#Guild Unity

[marveltournaments]

[violasarecool]

NPC: ....an acrobat?

Arno, literally just jogging down the street:

[linuxgamenews]

The Lonesome Guild's Journey: Friendship and Adventure

The Lonesome Guild top down action RPG game is due to be playable on Linux and Steam Deck via Windows PC. Thanks to the creative minds at Tiny Bull Studios, this title is shaping up to be something unique. Working to make its way onto Steam. If you’re into action RPG title with a real emotional punch, The Lonesome Guild is one to keep an eye on. Developed by Turin-based Tiny Bull Studios and published by DON’T NOD, this top-down, single-player action-RPG is all about friendship, connection, and taking on a world that's falling apart.

..knowing that tools like Proton and Lutris are doing a great job of bringing Steam games to Linux users, we currently must focus on other priorities.

Tiny Bull Studios mentioned in an email that if The Lonesome Guild gets a warm welcome and strong sales after launch, they might consider adding native Linux and Steam Deck support. So, let’s keep our fingers crossed. In The Lonesome Guild, you play as Ghost, a spirit who wakes up with no memories in a land drowning in loneliness. And things aren’t looking great. A dark, creeping mist is spreading, corrupting everything in its path. But there’s hope. Ghost must gather a squad of six unique misfits, each with their own struggles, stories, and abilities. These aren’t your typical fantasy heroes – they’re flawed, complex, and real. But together, they just might be strong enough to push back the darkness.

The Lonesome Guild | Reveal Trailer

What’s really great about The Lonesome Guild is how it blends combat and friendship. You’ll seamlessly switch between your characters during battles and exploration, using each of their unique skills to survive and thrive. But it’s not just about fighting – it’s about bonding. The deeper your connections with your teammates, the stronger your combos and team dynamics will be. That bond-building happens not just in battle, but during quiet moments by the campfire, where characters share stories, struggles, and maybe even a few laughs. It’s these moments that turn a group of strangers into a real guild. And let’s talk The Lonesome Guild gameplay. Expect dynamic combat that keeps you on your toes, challenging puzzles that will test your brainpower, and a world full of secrets waiting for you uncover. The game’s setting, Etere, is designed to pull you in with its mysterious landscapes and hidden lore. It's the kind of place that feels alive and ready to explore – or maybe ready to haunt you. From the start, Tiny Bull Studios set out to make more than just another ARPG game. The Lonesome Guild is about building connections that matter, both in gameplay and storytelling. It’s about finding strength in friendship and hope, even when the world feels dark and empty. The Lonesome Guild is due to release in fall 2025 for Linux and Steam Deck, playable via Windows PC on Steam. So, if you like deep RPGs with emotional stakes and action that keeps you hooked, this one needs to be on your radar. Get ready to fight, bond, and survive. The darkness is coming – but here, no one faces it alone.

[puddingface1902]

Hey everyone! I uploaded episode 6 of my Daggerfall playthrough. Check it out!

[thingsihavecrochetandknit]

My guild did a knit-a-long of Unity by Jennifer Weissman. I didn't think I'd finish it time but managed to get it cast off the night before 😅

[guildofpriapus]

The Guild: A Unique Subculture

The Guild is a closed society, often described as a cult, that insists on its female members dressing in leather encasements, full-body leather catsuits, and high heels. This attire is seen as a symbol of membership and unity, reinforcing the group’s values of empowerment through distinct fashion choices. However, The Guild's practices place it at odds with mainstream society, which often views such attire as provocative or unconventional. This clash highlights tensions between individual subcultures and societal norms, raising questions about autonomy, identity, and the acceptance of alternative lifestyles. The Guild's existence challenges broader societal perceptions and sparks discussions about freedom of expression versus conformity.

Fashion and Identity:

Expression: Wearing leather encasements or full-body catsuits can be a bold fashion statement, expressing individuality and confidence. It challenges conventional norms and can signify empowerment for some women.

Perception: Such attire might be perceived as provocative or edgy, potentially attracting attention and judgment. High heels, often associated with femininity and allure, can amplify these perceptions.

Stereotyping:

Women in leather attire might be stereotyped as rebellious or non-conformist. This can lead to assumptions about their character, such as being labeled as attention-seeking or lacking professionalism.

Cultural Context:

The acceptability of leather attire varies across cultures. In some contexts, it may be embraced as high fashion, while in others, it might be seen as inappropriate or overly sexualized.

Sociological Implications

Gender Dynamics:

Such attire can play into existing gender dynamics, where women are seen as subjects of the male gaze. Leather and high heels can emphasize traditional notions of femininity and sexuality, reinforcing certain gender roles.

Agency and Autonomy:

Choosing to wear leather and high heels can be an act of autonomy and self-expression. However, it also raises questions about whether these choices are freely made or influenced by societal pressures to conform to certain beauty standards.

Subculture and Identity:

Leather attire is often associated with specific subcultures (e.g., punk, BDSM). For women within these subcultures, such clothing can be a powerful marker of identity and community belonging.

Semantic Implications

Language and Connotations:

Terms like "fetish wear" or "provocative" are often linked to leather attire, carrying connotations that can influence how women are perceived and treated. These labels can either empower or diminish based on context.

Media Representation:

Media often portrays leather and high heels in a sexualized manner, shaping public perceptions and expectations. This framing can influence how women’s fashion choices are interpreted and judged.

Symbolism and Meaning:

Leather encasements, catsuits, and high heels are rich with symbolic meaning, often associated with power, sexuality, and rebellion. They communicate different messages depending on the context and the individual's intent.

In essence, wearing leather encasement, full-body leather catsuits, and high heels involves navigating complex layers of personal expression and societal influence. These choices reflect broader conversations about identity, autonomy, and the male gaze

Fashion and Identity:

Expression: Wearing leather encasements or full-body catsuits can be a bold fashion statement, expressing individuality and confidence. It challenges conventional norms and can signify empowerment for some women.

Perception: Such attire might be perceived as provocative or edgy, potentially attracting attention and judgment. High heels, often associated with femininity and allure, can amplify these perceptions.

Stereotyping:

Women in leather attire might be stereotyped as rebellious or non-conformist. This can lead to assumptions about their character, such as being labeled as attention-seeking or lacking professionalism.

Cultural Context:

The acceptability of leather attire varies across cultures. In some contexts, it may be embraced as high fashion, while in others, it might be seen as inappropriate or overly sexualized.

Sociological Implications

Gender Dynamics:

Such attire can play into existing gender dynamics, where women are seen as subjects of the male gaze. Leather and high heels can emphasize traditional notions of femininity and sexuality, reinforcing certain gender roles.

Agency and Autonomy:

Choosing to wear leather and high heels can be an act of autonomy and self-expression. However, it also raises questions about whether these choices are freely made or influenced by societal pressures to conform to certain beauty standards.

Subculture and Identity:

Leather attire is often associated with specific subcultures (e.g., punk, BDSM). For women within these subcultures, such clothing can be a powerful marker of identity and community belonging.

Semantic Implications

Language and Connotations:

Terms like "fetish wear" or "provocative" are often linked to leather attire, carrying connotations that can influence how women are perceived and treated. These labels can either empower or diminish based on context.

Media Representation:

Media often portrays leather and high heels in a sexualized manner, shaping public perceptions and expectations. This framing can influence how women’s fashion choices are interpreted and judged.

Symbolism and Meaning:

Leather encasements, catsuits, and high heels are rich with symbolic meaning, often associated with power, sexuality, and rebellion. They communicate different messages depending on the context and the individual's intent.

In essence, wearing leather encasement, full-body leather catsuits, and high heels involves navigating complex layers of personal expression and societal influence. These choices reflect broader conversations about identity, autonomy, and the male gaze.

[reikiajakoiranruohoja]

One of the things that Guild Wars 2 really masters, that I don't often see in other setting, is treating species and an individual as two different things. And that no species is truly evil. You can see this in the core game with how only a few factions are made up of one species. Even then, those are usually the 'evil' faction within the species. All others can have Charr, Asura, Norn, humans and Sylvari as random mooks.

Through the Living World story, we also get to see members of the 'bad' factions redeem themselves. Flame Legion is now trying to be better and Gorrik was a former Inquest member. It doesn't even stop at playable species, because by Living World season 4's end, the Awakened are free from Joko and resume their lives with their families. Cue a lot of complaining from people whose parents are now undead and nagging them. Or, with the latest Living World story over, the Kryptis. What at first seemed like mindless horror hordes are actually just people. You get to see these creatures that look like standard baddies try to paint or get nervous over jumping from a diving board. I think this is great, because it goes into the message of unity the game is about. Every species has their arseholes and saints, even those that at first seem evil.

[sammakesart]

You Will Be the Death of Me (Illario & Sancia)

Sancia and Illario meet for the first time when they are ten and eleven, respectively. It’s barely a look and a nod of recognition, but they instantly see a kindred spirit in the other. Like calling to like. Unfortunately, Sancia is here to meet Lucanis. 

A betrothal is discussed between their Houses, Balazar and Dellamorte. Caterina Dellamorte, First Talon of the Antivan Crows, on one side of the table, Juan Balazar, Second Talon, on the other. Both of their Houses are old and powerful. They could be more powerful still together. 

Their alliance will bring stability, Juan claims with his most charming smile. There have been many years of unrest and upheaval for the Crows, the assassins’ guild that all but rules Antiva. All because of the “Black Shadow”, or so they call themself. Killing Talons. Sewing malcontent. A show of unity and strength is what they need.

It is decided Sancia will wed Lucanis upon her eighteenth year. Sancia makes a face. Lucanis remains silent. Illario laughs—and earns a swift crack from his grandmother’s crow-headed cane for the disruption.

In truth, Caterina has no real intention of marrying her precious Lucanis to Sancia. The girl reminds her far too much of Sancia’s great aunt, Elvira. Same dark red hair, same even darker eyes. Caterina does not want to think of Elvira Balazar ever again. 

All the same, Sancia and Lucanis are forced to meet once a year at the Dellamorte Villa. Caterina playing along to keep Juan Balazar under heel, at least for the time being. Perhaps Lucanis will get some practice wooing a pretty girl, Caterina reasons.  

Lucanis mainly talks about wyverns, if he talks at all. Sancia doesn’t have much of an opinion on wyverns. Or Lucanis. She’s far more interested in seeing Illario, who often sneaks in to join their awkward luncheons or prearranged outings. 

When Sancia and Illario are thirteen and fourteen, respectively, they are caught kissing in the gardens by Caterina and Juan. 

Caterina feigns outrage and calls off the betrothal. This saves her from having to come up with an excuse herself. 

Illario gets a bloody lip and bruised ribs for the kiss, as well as a week in a dark, cold cellar room. It was worth it, he thinks. 

Sancia only has to live with her father’s disappointment and cold shoulder for a fortnight. 

When they see one another again, and Sancia sees the fading bruises on Illario’s face, it is the first time Sancia thinks she hates Caterina Dellamorte. It will not be the last. 

***

Late one night, Sancia overhears her father talking to her eldest brother, Dante. Caterina’s antiquated style of leadership will be the death of the Crows, he says. They need to find another way. Sancia slips away before they spot her.

***

Years pass. Sancia and Illario continue to meet in secret. Their favorite spot is a certain rooftop overlooking the Rialto Bay. Illario sometimes finds his way to her after a particularly brutal “lesson” from his grandmother. They don’t speak of the blood or the breaks or the bruises.

They are fiercely competitive in their fledgling training. A not insignificant reason Illario is as talented  at being a Crow as he is (and he is), is not only because of Caterina’s lessons or Lucanis’s existence, but because he’s always trying to impress—or perhaps outmatch—Sancia. He’s not sure which. 

***

Sancia’s father meets with an elf dressed in all black at the Balazar Villa. They exchange words and coin. She listens from her hiding spot, the one her great aunt Elvira showed her. Before he leaves, the elf looks directly at her. He winks, but says nothing. He has three lines tattooed on the left side of his face. 

***

Sancia informs Illario her father is discussing her betrothal to a merchant prince. They are sixteen and seventeen, respectively. They don’t discuss why this news makes them both angry. Or why they sleep together for the first time soon after. Or why Illario is sure to be seen sneaking from Sancia’s bedroom early the next morning.

Sancia faces her father’s harsh words. Illario gains a few more scars on his back and another week in the cellar with nothing to eat and only the damp condensation on the slimy stone walls for water. It was very much worth it, he thinks. 

The engagement with the merchant prince is abandoned. 

***

The next time they see one another, a clandestine meeting on their rooftop, Sancia notices the hollowness of his cheeks, the way he favors he left side. She brings up running away together for the first time. Illario laughs it off as a joke. Sancia laughs too. 

***

Sancia’s eighteenth birthday comes and goes. She would have been marrying Lucanis, once upon a time. She wouldn’t have minded being a Dellamorte, she thinks. For the right Dellamorte. Or the wrong one. The one presently sleeping soundly beside her, his hair spread out over her pillow. 

Sancia gently moves a stray lock away from his lips, lets her fingers linger over a cut on his high cheekbone that is almost healed. 

She shoves the thought aside. She rolls over and closes her eyes. 

Only then does Illario opens his own. He watches her sleep until first light. 

***

They take every opportunity to make one another jealous, mostly by flirting with the next nearest person when the other is present—at the markets in Treviso, the Cantori Diamond, the coffee house. They frequently find themselves together in a dark corner by the end of the evening, hands roving, lips barely parting. They don’t acknowledge any feelings beyond attraction. 

***

Two years later, Juan Balazar is killed. Dante is made the new Second Talon. Sancia finds herself at Illario’s bedroom window, not sure why this is where her feet led her after the funeral. He holds her the entire night as she cries. 

She asks him to run away with her a second time. He says nothing. When he wakes, she is gone, and only the faint scent of her perfume lingers on his pillow—citrus and jasmine. They never speak of it again. 

***

Sancia and Illario become fully-fledged Crows at twenty and twenty-one, respectively. They both entertain a string of lovers, but find their way back to each other’s beds every time. Illario watches as Sancia grows colder, harder. Bitter. Sancia watches as Illario remains trapped in Luncanis’s shadow, always smiling wide as his eyes stay dead. He calls himself Dellamorte the Lesser before someone else can. He has never been the lesser Dellamorte to her. 

***

Dante starts seeing Teia Cantori, and Sancia and Teia become friends. Teia suspects there is more to the on-and-off-again dalliances between Illario and Sancia, but doesn’t press when Sancia denies it with a too-loud laugh.

***

Prince Ezio Valisti, Third Talon of House Valisti, begins courting Sancia in earnest on her twenty-second birthday. Dante is pleased. Valisti is also an old dynastic House, one of only three. This would align their houses and make them strong against House Dellamorte. And Dante has never hidden the fact he despises the First Talon and her two grandsons. Especially Illario. Ezio and Sancia are both attractive and charming. Both from powerful Houses. Both deadly. A perfect match. A match that could rival House Dellamorte’s place as first.

Illario starts drinking. Heavily. He gets lost in a blur of lovers. He smiles and charms and kills when he’s told. He watches as Sancia and Ezio swan arm in arm around the Cantori Diamond. The way he looks at her… the way she looks at him… Illario is going to be sick. It’s just the cheap wine. He fantasizes about strangling Ezio Valisti to death. 

Teia discovers Illario passed out in the casino one morning. She realizes Dellamorte the Lesser may have a heart after all. She endeavors to be kinder to him, speak up for him with Caterina.

***

Ezio Valisti is found dead. Killed on a job, they say. His second cousin, Lera, becomes Third Talon. After the funeral, Illario finds Sancia on their rooftop, looking out over Rialto Bay. He asks her to run away with him. She says nothing. He tells her he didn’t do it. She remains quiet. He begs and pleads and rages at her to say something. Anything. To just look at him, even in disgust. She kisses him instead. They fuck. There is no other word for it. Illario feels like he’s just been pulled back from a perilous ledge, feet on steady ground once more. 

***

Dante takes on a contract at the suggestion of Caterina Dellamorte, though a suggestion from the First Talon is no suggestion at all. He is to go undercover as a Templar. When he comes back, he is never the same again. The lyrium will always call to him, no matter how many times he tries to ignore its song. Teia ends things with him. Dante cannot blame her. 

Sancia’s hatred of Caterina grows. 

***

Illario and Sancia fight. They don’t speak for a month. Neither of them can recall what the fight was about. Some petty jealousy, most likely. Sancia leaving a party with Vicente Kortez instead of him. Illario gifting Nadia Valisti a string of pearls instead of her. The necklace was ugly anyway. 

***

Sancia wakes one morning and feels ill. Her first thought is poison. Her second… the inevitable consequence of a rooftop tryst. The fight seems so pointless now—instantly forgotten. Sancia tries to see him, but he is absent from his usual haunts. She writes Illario a note, pays a street urchin with her earrings to get it to him. For the first time in her life, she is afraid. She needs to see him. She needs to tell him. She needs him. In the note, she asks to meet. He will know where. 

It is not Illario who is waiting on the rooftop to greet her, but Caterina Dellamorte. Illario is tired of her, the First Talon says. He doesn’t want to see her. Her grandson asked for her help in cleaning up this mess, and she will be cleaning up this mess, for all their sakes. Sancia doesn’t want to believe her, she refuses to believe her, but… Illario is not here. Caterina offers a solution. Sancia goes with her, rides in a carriage across from Caterina Dellamorte to a small clinic in the Drowned District known for being discreet, and walks inside.

True to her word, Caterina takes care of it. She warns Sancia to never contact her grandson again. 

Sancia is sick for three days, in more pain than she ever thought possible. She has a vague memory of Teia sitting by her side. Dante must have begged her to come. Viago won’t be pleased. 

Sancia cries until there are no tears left in her, until she is rung dry. On the fourth day, she rises and begins to plan. 

***

Illario is finally released from the cellar. It has been years since this particular punishment was utilized. The cold has seeped so far into his bones he is not sure he will ever be free of it. His stomach feels like it is trying to eat itself. Lucanis tells him to slow down when he gulps down a bowl of broth in one swallow. Lucanis warns him against putting on his boots. Tries to stop him from grabbing his cloak. But he needs to see her. 

He has found clarity in the darkness of that cell. They will leave. Tonight. With only the clothes on their backs. They don’t need anything else. 

It is only when Lucanis points out he hasn’t bathed in a week that he finally stops. He rubs at the uneven scruff on his face. He can’t let her see him like this.  Luca calls for a tub to brought up to Illario’s room, along with as many buckets of hot water as can be found. 

Perhaps a plan wouldn’t hurt, either. 

***

Illario suspects Sancia may be avoiding him. It has been weeks since he went to find her, and she refused to see him. Months since their stupid argument, whatever it was. He meets her eyes; she looks away. He enters a room; she exits. He sends her flowers. Her favorite perfume. Jewelry. A stiletto inlaid with mother-of-pearl on the hilt. All are returned—except for the dagger. 

Until finally a note from her arrives, smuggled in by a kitchen maid. “Meet me. You know the place.” The note smells of citrus and jasmine. He goes immediately to their roof. 

***

Sancia watches as a figure approaches, as tall as Illario, wearing Illario’s cloak and expensive leather boots. The air carries the scent of Illario’s signature cologne. The docks are quiet this time of night, and the sound of each step echoes in the stillness. 

The man has the wrong gait. The scent is too strong. Sancia considers whether to face the assassin or flee. She feels for her stiletto, wraps her fingers around the mother-of-pearl hilt.

The man who is not Illario charges, and they grapple. He is larger, taller, stronger. But Sancia is quick. She sinks the blade into his side, and the man grunts, but he is able to throw her off balance with a kick to her left knee. A weakness of hers. They fall to the ground in a heap, the old wooden planks groaning under the struggle. The man locks his legs around her, pulling her back to his chest, and the wire in his hands wraps around her throat. The pain burns. She can’t breathe. Her fingers come away sticky with blood as she tries to pull the thin metal from her neck. 

He manages to lean in, his breath hot against her ear. “Illario Dellamorte sends his regards.” 

She recognizes the man after all. Her world grows dim. She is only vaguely aware of being pushed into the bay, the ice cold current pulling her under. She opens her eyes, looks up through the rippling darkness to see a figure toss a bag of coins to her assassin, a cane topped with a crow’s head in the figure’s hand.

She has never hated Caterina Dellamorte more than in this moment. 

Then she feels nothing at all. 

***

Illario waits. The sun rises. He waits, and she never comes. 

At first he is confused. And annoyed. She was playing games. It is only after days pass without any word from her or even of her that he begins to worry. Teia tells him her brother, Rodrigo, is claiming she abandoned the family. Fled into the night. A few of her most precious belongings are missing from her rooms.

Was the meeting only to say goodbye? Did she simply lose her nerve and instead left without a word? Without him? Illario tells himself he doesn’t care. What were they, after all? Lovers? Friends? Foes? Nothing? Everything? He thinks of their first kiss in the gardens of his family home, hiding from his cousin. It was the first time he kissed anyone. He thinks of the first time they shared their bodies with one another, another first of his he gave to her. Perhaps he waited too long to apologize after the fight—and what had it even been about! They fought all the time. They fought more than they did anything else. He loves fighting with her. He loves not fighting with her. He loves—

No. 

Vicente Kortez is reported missing a few days later, and Illario at last burns with rage. She left without him and fled with another man. Memories flash in his mind of Sancia and Vicente entwined together on a couch in the casino, sharing sweet words and sweeter kisses. He curses Vicente’s name. He curses hers. He is glad they are gone.

***

In the spring, a pair of her earrings are found by one of Bolivar Nero’s pearl divers. Dante orders more divers search the bay. Other things of Sancia Balazar are found. Items Illario has seen countless times in her rooms. A silver hairbrush. Her great aunt’s cigarillo case. Her favorite stiletto—a gift from her father on her eighteenth birthday. 

A body would not last long in the bay. There will be no body to find now.

All the rage pours out of him, leaving only an echoing hollowness. She is gone. Dead. 

They hold a funeral for Sancia Balazar. Illario attends. He waits until it is over to start drinking. He doesn’t stop. Caterina rebukes him. Lucanis doesn’t understand him. Viago chastises him. Teia is the only one who shows him any amount of sympathy, though he’s not sure why. 

Late at night, every night, he hunts for some shred of information. A witness. A whisper. Someone to blame. Someone to kill. He finds nothing. 

***

The cracks that had formed between Lucanis and Illario, borne from a childhood of always being compared, always being found wanting, widen into rifts. At least in Illario’s heart. He continues to play the devoted cousin, the charming assassin, the loyal grandson. Dellamorte the Lesser. 

***

The next year, four Talons meet their end in a handful of days. They hold a funeral for Dante Balazar. Rodrigo becomes Second Talon. He is much easier to control than his brother—certainly easier than his father. 

The next Talon to rise from House Valisti, Nadia, is equally biddable. 

New Talons take their places in Houses Kortez and Arainai as well, though those Houses were always weak, one misstep from falling into ruin, only to be replaced by a lower House, one ready to rise to the task of Talon of the Antivan Crows. 

Caterina has wrested power back from the brink once again. And one day, this will all belong to Lucanis, if she has her way. 

***

She does not see Illario’s jealousy fester. Does not see how his heart fully, finally blackens. He has nothing left to lose and everything to gain. He falls into bed with the wrong woman—or perhaps the right one. A moment of pillow talk, tongue loosened by wine—or perhaps magic, he’ll never be sure—removes his cousin from his path permanently. Or so he is lead to believe. 

He will decide what to do with his grandmother later. After he is Talon. Perhaps then he’ll find the strength the wield the knife the way he couldn’t with Lucanis. He will only have to think of every biting word from her tongue, every sharp strike of her cane, every minute in that cursed cellar.

***

When Illario stands before the whole of the Antivan Crows to accept the title of First Talon, he gives a speech. He scans the crowd gathered in the wings. He feels Teia and Viago’s stare heavy on his back. He looks up, sees a woman with dark red hair, even darker eyes, watching him. Sancia. He blinks, looks again. She’s gone. 

It’s fitting, he thinks. That her ghost should haunt him at this moment. Would she be proud of him? Would she have stood by his side as he took the mantle of First Talon? Perhaps after he groveled for seducing the blood mage to aid him in his plot. Would he even have had to turn to a Venatori, had Sancia been alive? Would she be Second Talon now? 

They could have ruled the Crows as its King and Queen.

A fanciful dream. A foolish dream. She is dead, and a part of him died with her. 

The door opens. Lucanis enters the room, his voice ringing out. It is to be a day of ghosts, it seems. 

Eventually, he is brought to his knees. Lucanis is no ghost. 

As he is being lead away, he looks up again. Has her specter witnessed his humiliation? Their eyes meet. He blinks. She remains. He blinks again. Sancia tilts her head, burgundy waves slipping over her pale shoulder. A velvet ribbon is tied around the column of her neck. Her name catches in his throat. 

She is no ghost either. 

[monstersdownthepath]

Homebrew Horror: Vodani, Nascent Demon Lord of Intoxication and Anger

(Art by the amazing @stranger-chads!)

First mentioned here, Vodani is one of the least ambitious yet most active among the Nascent Lords, never truly vying for territory but viciously holding what power and reach he stumbles into with a ferocity and determination that cause most others to simply leave him to his own devices. His primary concerns in his day to day life are acquiring alcohol to drink and people to drink it around (specifically around, and uncommonly with), and though he can conjure seemingly bottomless amounts of it and convert even pond scum into a palatable beverage, he's always hounding for a flavor of spirit he's never tasted before, which is one of his motivators for venturing into the world of mortals.

The primary motivator, however, is only barely more complex than that of most demons: chaos, mayhem, destruction, and the corruption of innocents. Vodani takes on the appearance of a common human vagrant or wanderer to inveigle himself in established populations of the destitute and downtrodden. With endless gifts of cheap drink and drugs woven between sob stories he's collected from hundreds of past victims, Vodani establishes himself as a strange but beloved member of the community, where he works to ignite the fires of hatred within them.

Vodani uses inflammatory rhetoric to gradually unite the societies he infiltrates against specific targets, most of them nobles or government officials, or members of an organization with considerable power over the poor (such as bankers, guards, and local guild members), preferring to pick whomever would cause the largest power vacuum if they were removed from their position and/or cause the largest breakdown of societal order (his least favorite type of order). This habit causes many to call him the Prince of Paupers, believing him a figure of hope and unity, but this is false hope at best; Vodani is not driven out of a sincere desire to help, but a demonic desire to destroy. He intentionally steers people away from any solution that does not lead to violent revolution and utilizes drugs, social and societal pressures, and his magic to prevent anyone from speaking against him or offering relief to his "friends," victims of his toxic influence who quickly find themselves with few choices but to continue wallowing in his lifestyle of violence, indulgence, and hate.

Were the Lord of Gin truly a bringer of rebellion and freedom, he would actually stay to help the reconstruction once the dust settled, or even help at all. As it is, the targets of ire he chooses often serve as convenient scapegoats for the actual reason inequality runs rampant; he may target a guard captain enforcing unjust laws while treating the council who made the laws as an afterthought, or call for the death of a king who is unaware that his advisors have been wringing areas of the city dry behind his back. Vodani gets his fill of destruction quickly once he's gotten a whole riot going, wading into the fray to kill and destroy with savage impunity, often felling friend and foe alike. Whether or not his assembled "freedom fighters" actually succeed in destroying their perceived "oppressors" and "enemies" or if they themselves are routed is of little true consequence to him, with the fiend vanishing from the world once his cruel work is done to let everyone else shoulder the consequences. Any actual good that may emerge in the wake of his riot is purely accidental, and hearing that he has bettered a city sends him into a frothing fury which takes him days to calm down from. He often goes out of his way to either send his followers into the same city or slither back in himself to make it burn down 'for good this time,' and this is one of the only things in creation which can give him actual focus and motivation to plan things over the course of the long term... provided he doesn't completely forget about why he was so angry in the first place during days of senseless rage and endless drinking.

Vodani appears to be a humanoid with an extremely severe case of jaundice and lengthy fingers that end in sharpened, bony points. He wears shabby local clothing and is always clutching a bottle of spirits he takes frequent drinks from. His head is his most startling feature, taking the shape of a tapering pillar of flesh that swirls as though it were smoke in a vortex, solid yellow eyes and a mouth filled with shark-like teeth emerging and disappearing at random in the twister. He has a strange amount of control over his malleable head, able to shape it into distorted faces and exaggerated expressions at will, or even lash his head out like a tentacle to deliver bites to distant foes.

Even when magically disguised, his pure yellow eyes or sharpened teeth randomly peek through to reveal his true nature, forcing him to take pains to hide them with long hair, facemasks, tall collars, or other coverings. His commonalities with the Ginever are noted by most who know of both him and the strange, alcoholic carnivores; many believe him to either be their progenitor, or a member of their kind who ascended to demonhood. He gives contradicting reports, alternatively calling them his children, his kin, his subjects, or his parasites, seemingly just to annoy anyone trying to find a concrete truth. What is known is that any mortal who drinks themselves to death with alcohol he's interacted with in some way has a chance of returning to life as a Ginever. When asked of this phenomenon, he is curiously quiet.

Vodani, the Demon at the Bottom of the Bottle CR 23 Chaotic Evil Medium Outsider (Chaotic, Evil, Demon, Extraplanar) Init: +7; Senses: darkvision 60 ft., low-light vision, Detect Good, Detect Law, True Seeing; Perception +37 Aura: Unholy Aura (DC 29)

------- Defense ------

AC 45, touch 35, flat-footed 38 (+7 Dex, +4 deflection, +10 natural, +14 luck) HP 530 (26d10+364), Regeneration 15 (Good) Fort +27, Ref +33, Will +27 Defensive Abilities: Freedom of Movement; DR 15/Cold Iron and Good; Immune: Charm and compulsion effects, cold, death effects, electricity, disease, poison; Resist: Acid 30, Fire 30; SR: 35

------ Offense ------

Speed: 60ft, climb 20ft; Air Walk Melee +3 Improvised Weapon +38/+33/+28/+23 (1d8+10/19-20), claw +28 (1d6+4 plus Intoxicant), bite +33 (1d8+7 plus Intoxicant), OR two claws +33 (1d6+7 plus Intoxicant), bite +33 (1d8+7 plus Intoxicant) Ranged +3 Thrown Improvised Weapon +38/+33/+28/+23 (1d8+10) Space 5ft, Reach 5ft (10ft with bite) Special Attacks: Cloak and Dagger Tactics (DC 28), Intoxicant, Jaundiced Gaze, Sneak Attack +2d6, Whatever's At Hand Spell-like Abilities (CL 20th; concentration +31)

Constant--Air Walk, Freedom of Movement, Detect Good, Detect Law, True Seeing, Unholy Aura (DC 29) At-will--Charm Person (DC 22), Greater Dispel Magic, Greater Teleport (self plus 50lbs only), Invisibility (self only), Rotgut, Suggestion (DC 24) 3/day--Create Drugs, Crime Wave (DC 27), Mass Suggestion (DC 27), Song of Discord (DC 26), Tears to Wine 1/day--Dominate Monster (DC 30), Life of Crime (DC 29), Summon Demons or Ginever, Time Stop

------ Statistics ------

Str 24 Dex 25 Con 38 Int 20 Wis 27 Cha 33

Base Atk +26; CMB +33 (+4 when performing Dirty Trick); CMD 66 (+4 vs Dirty Tricks)

Feats Catch Off-Guard(B), Cloak and Dagger Style, Cloak and Dagger Subterfuge, Cloak and Dagger Tactics, Dirty Fighting, Dirty Trick Master, Grab and Go, Greater Dirty Trick, Improved Dirty Trick, Improvisational Focus, Improvised Weapon Mastery, Multiattack, Quick Dirty Trick, Throw Anything(B), Vital Strike

Skills Appraise +15, Bluff +40, Craft (Alchemy) +34, Disable Device +26, Disguise +17, Escape Artist +21, Intimidate +40, Knowledge (Local) +34, Knowledge (Nobility) +15, Knowledge (Planes) +16, Perception +37, Perform (Comedy) +21, Perform (Oratory) +31, Sense Motive +37, Sleight of Hand +26, Stealth +30

Languages Abyssal, Common, Dwarvish, Draconic, Orcish; telepathy 300ft, Tongues

SQ Change Shape (Any humanoid or monstrous humanoid; Alter Self or Monstrous Physique I), Drunken Demagogue, Happy Hour, Nascent Demon Lord traits

------ Ecology ------

Environment: Any urban Organization: Solitary, hellions (self plus 3~10 Ginever plus 10~30 humanoids), riot (self plus 10~20 Ginever plus 30+ humanoids). Treasure: Triple standard

------

Combat: While preferring to never battle any foe with a reasonable chance of fighting back, Vodani is a bewildering foe to battle on even terms and will utilize his feats to hamper his foes via rapidly-delivered Dirty Trick maneuvers before beating them down with whatever he has available as the negative conditions mount. Capable of turning anything into a deadly weapon, Vodani is never truly unarmed and will utilize any lull in the combat (or rounds in Time Stop) to customize his held item with enchantments he feels would best harm his foes; he usually begins each day having a single bottle opener or corkscrew he keeps loaded with Anarchic, Human-Bane, and Unholy already on his person. If his foes are intoxicated, he will attempt to use his spell-likes to convince them to either fight on his side, fight with each other, or not fight at all.

Morale: The Lord of Gin turns invisible and flees any fight that is no longer "fun" for him, typically meaning fights in which his foes take no damage from his attacks, cannot be meaningfully impaired with Dirty Trick, and any combat where he is reduced to 200 or less HP. If prevented from fleeing, he flies into an indignant rage and fights to the death.

------ Special Abilities ------

Drunken Demagogue (Ex): Vodani's drunken swaying allows him supernatural grace when avoiding danger, granting him a luck bonus equal to his Constitution modifier to his AC, his CMD, and to his Reflex saving throws. In addition, inebriated creatures have a significantly harder time resisting his words; when communicating with inebriated creatures--even one unwillingly rendered drunk by his own abilities--Vodani gains a +5 profane bonus to Charisma-based skill checks against those creatures, and those creatures have a -5 penalty to saving throws against Vodani's mind-affecting spells and abilities. If a creature is normally immune to mind-affecting effects, Drunken Demagogue allows his spells and abilities to bypass this immunity, but the spell or effect ends instantly when the creature is no longer drunk.

Happy Hour (Su): Thirteen times a day as a swift or standard action, Vodani can conjure a bottle or flask of any common, nonmagical alcoholic drink he desires, or which is desired by someone he is speaking to (even if they don't know the specific name). In addition, Vodani can consume single servings of alcohol (the bottles/flasks he summons contain three servings each), as well as potions, tinctures, and similar items as a swift action without provoking an attack of opportunity. Each time he drinks a serving of alcohol, a potion, or a tincture, he recovers 1d8+10 hitpoints and may immediately move up to 10ft in any direction without provoking an attack of opportunity.

Intoxicant (Su): Vodani may, as a free action once per round when successfully damaging a creature with his claw or bite attack, attempt to convert a portion of the liquids in that creature's body into alcohol. That creature must succeed a DC 35 Fortitude save or take 1d4+1 points of Dexterity and Constitution damage, becomes inebriated, and become sickened as though they had drank too much (alternately, a failure raises the victim's level of inebriation by 1, if using the alternate rules present in Inner Sea Taverns). A creature that fails their saving throw against this ability while already inebriated takes 1 additional point of Dexterity and Constitution damage. The sickened condition caused by this ability lasts until all ability score damage from it is healed. This is a poison effect.

Jaundiced Gaze (Su): While his mundane alcohol is typically enough to get what he wants, Vodani can dramatically enhance the effects of nearby alcohol with nothing but his gaze. This gaze attack operates in a 60ft cone, and any alcoholic beverage in this cone is converted into a ferocious brew: one serving of converted alcohol counts as four to any creature not immune to poison, and creatures normally immune to poison can be affected by the drink, though they treat it as only one serving. Alchemical and magical liquids almost always contain at least traces of alcohol in them which is enhanced by this ability, rendering the substance useless; such items can resist this infusion with a DC 35 Fortitude save. Inebriated creatures who meet his gaze while this ability is active must succeed a DC 35 Fortitude save or become confused, fascinated, or prone (his choice) for 1d8 rounds. He may activate or suppress this ability at will as a free action once per round.

Nascent Demon Lord Traits: A nascent demon lord is a powerful demon that has not yet made the full transition from unique demon to full demon lord of an Abyssal realm. They have several traits, as summarized here:

Immunity to charm and compulsion effects, death effects, electricity, and poison.

Resistance to acid 30, cold 30, and fire 30.

Summon (Sp) Once per day, Vodani can summon any demon or combination of demons whose total combined CR is 20 or lower. He can instead choose to summon two Fiendish Ginever with up to 12 levels of any one class each. This ability always works, and is equivalent to a 9th-level spell.

Telepathy 300 feet.

Vodani’s natural weapons, as well as any weapon he wields, are treated as chaotic, epic, and evil for the purpose of overcoming damage reduction.

Vodani can grant spells to his worshipers. He grants access to the domains of Chaos, Community, Evil, and Trickery. His favored weapon is improvised weapons.

Whatever's At Hand (Ex/Su): Vodani is a master of bar brawls and improvisation. He gains Catch Off-Guard and Throw Anything as bonus feats. Any item he uses as an improvised weapon is treated as if it were a +3 magic weapon (dropped or thrown weapons lose these qualities at the end of the turn). As a standard action, Vodani can further empower anything he is wielding--even a weapon that is already enchanted--with up to +3 worth of additional enchantments selected from the following list: Anarchic, Bane (the Bane type is chosen each time this ability is used), Cruel, Deadly, Flaming, Frost, Keen, Throwing, Shock and/or Unholy. These enchantments last until Vodani uses this ability again, or if the improvised weapon leaves his grasp for longer than 1 minute (which allows him to temporarily lend out enchanted armaments). He cannot use this ability to bring a weapon's total combined enchantments above +8.

[zandoarts]

The Hibourverse *scifi tough gal* Gisha Hiara, an ex-Ganymedian soldier turned Space Security Guild enforcer. She's a somewhat recent immigrant to Vesta.

One like: Coffee, even the crappy instant stuff she can make in the shuttle.

One dislike: Anti-Jovian prejudice. She’s not even patriotic or particularly proud of her heritage, but the Galileans aren’t well thought of these days. She actually harbors a lot of resentment for the Ganymedian Unity.

[ydsurluvhsm]

stardust and magic

♡ just a quick one-shot for nalu! it’s also posted on my ao3, so feel free to check it out there if you’d like to leave kudos or comments! they’d be super appreciated ♡

── .✦

after a grueling mission that took its toll on everyone, lucy found herself standing alone in a peaceful meadow. the night sky above was clear, the stars shining brighter than ever, as though calling to her. she let out a quiet sigh, her thoughts drifting far away as she gazed upward, feeling the familiar pull of the stars. in this moment of solitude, she felt more at peace than she had in days, her magic quietly humming within her, resonating with the cosmos above.

as lucy stood there, her hands softly gliding through the air, the stars seemed to dance in response. she could feel them, almost like old friends whispering secrets in a language only she could understand. there was a deep, overwhelming sense of unity, of belonging. her celestial magic felt stronger than ever, not just as a tool for summoning spirits but as a part of who she was—one with the stars.

unbeknownst to her, natsu had been wandering the area after the mission. his usual fiery energy had dulled after their latest fight, but something about the quiet night had drawn him away from the guild hall. as he walked, he saw her—lucy, bathed in a soft, ethereal glow. for a moment, he couldn’t help but stop and watch. the sight of her, standing there with the stars twinkling around her, made him feel like he was witnessing something beyond magical.

his heart skipped a beat. it wasn’t just her magic—there was something in the air, an unspoken connection between her and the cosmos. he felt like he was witnessing something deeply personal, something he wasn’t meant to see, but couldn’t look away from. slowly, he stepped closer, careful not to disturb the moment.

“lucy…” he called out quietly, his voice carrying across the quiet night air.

she turned to him, her expression soft, almost serene, yet filled with a warmth that melted away any remnants of the exhaustion she’d been carrying. “natsu… you’re here.”

natsu couldn’t help but smile. “of course, i am. what are you doing out here all alone?”

lucy’s eyes sparkled with a kind of mystery. “just… feeling connected to the stars. it’s like they’re a part of me.”

the words felt heavier than she intended, yet they made sense in that moment. she had always been drawn to the stars, but now, with the way her magic flowed so effortlessly, she realized just how much she truly was a part of the universe. her celestial magic was more than just summoning spirits—it was a piece of the sky itself, a tangible connection to something far greater than herself.

natsu took a step closer, his gaze never leaving her. “you’ve always been special, lucy,” he said, his voice full of admiration. “but this… this is something else.”

lucy’s heart fluttered. she could sense natsu’s unwavering faith in her, his admiration for her not just as a wizard but as a person. she realized, with him standing there, it wasn’t just the stars that made her feel so powerful. it was the bond they shared, the way natsu believed in her when she couldn’t always believe in herself.

with a soft smile, she reached out, her fingers grazing his hand. “thank you, natsu. for always being here.”

he squeezed her hand gently, his warmth grounding her as the stars continued to shine above. and for the first time, lucy didn’t just feel like a celestial wizard—she felt like she was part of something endless, something as timeless and beautiful as the stars themselves.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/64278349

[nebulaad]

I FEEL INSANE WHY DO THEY KEEP SAYING THE ALLIANCES UNITED TO SAVE COLDHARBOUR NO THEY DIDN'T !!!!!!!!!!!!!!! THEY EXPLICITLY TEXTUALLY AND FACTUALLY REFUSED TO STOP FIGHTING IN CYRODIIL AND SO THE GUILDS WENT IN WITHOUT THEM !!!

probably the same way we did the first time where he was not at all involved and countess hakruba led the fighters guild from Stirk into Coldharbour. is everybody huffing paint.

[puddingface1902]

Hey everyone! Episode 5 of my Daggerfall playthrough is here. Check it out!

[mysticinsightstarot]

☀️Was SEVENTEEN’s Formation Written in the Stars?☀️

✨ A deep-dive into their soul contracts, past-life bonds & divine purpose ✨

So, bestie, buckle up because we’re about to unlock the cosmic archives of SEVENTEEN and why these 13 souls literally HAD to come together in this lifetime. I shuffled the deck, asked the universe some hard-hitting questions, and let the cards spill all the divine tea. And oh boy, it’s giving past-life contracts, karmic debts, and higher spiritual missions. ☕✨

💫 Their Collective Soul Archetype – Prayer

First off, the very core of SEVENTEEN is wrapped in PRAYER energy. This isn’t just about making music for fun—this group is a divinely orchestrated answer to a call. Maybe it was their own souls that prayed for this union across lifetimes, or maybe a higher force (yep, the universe itself) manifested their bond. They were MEANT to come together. No coincidences, just straight-up cosmic alignment. 🔮💜

⏳ Their Past-Life Connection – Temple

Now, this is where it gets spicy. Temple suggests SEVENTEEN’s souls were together before in a setting deeply tied to spiritual devotion, discipline, and sacred bonds. Were they monks? A brotherhood? A group of divine scholars?? 👀 Whatever it was, their past lives were ALL about dedication to a higher cause. And guess what? That same devotion translates into their teamwork, their discipline, and their unity now.

🔥 Their Karmic Debt or Shared Mission – Thanatos & Aletheia

Whew. These two cards together are SCREAMING transformation and truth. Thanatos is death, rebirth, and letting go of the past, while Aletheia is raw, undeniable truth. SEVENTEEN isn’t here just to make music; they’re here to break illusions and redefine what unity looks like in an industry known for its cutthroat energy. Maybe in past lives, they struggled with separation, ego, or loss—but in this lifetime, they’re here to show that true connection is unbreakable. 💀✨

🌙 Soul Family Energy – Crone

Ooof, the Crone card tells me these boys have old souls and have been doing this soul contract thing for eons. They’re like a soul guild—an ancient, wise energy that came back together for a higher purpose. Their dynamic is almost psychic; they understand each other without words, and their growth as a group is deeply spiritual. It’s not just talent—it’s destiny.

💖 The Divine Force That Brought Them Together – Agape & Eternal Child

HOLD UP. Agape is unconditional, divine love, and Eternal Child is pure, untamed spirit. SEVENTEEN was formed out of pure cosmic love. They are souls that thrive in joy, freedom, and genuine connection. They bring a childlike wonder to the industry, reminding everyone that passion > profit, and real artistry is soulful and authentic. This group is here to heal others simply by existing and radiating their energy. 🌈

👑 S.Coups’ Soul Role – Maiden, Cave & Dead End

Wow, wow, wow. As leader, S.Coups embodies the Maiden—open-hearted, intuitive, and protective over the group's energy. But the Cave & Dead End? That’s heavy. His past-life role might have been the one who lost everything, the one who carried burdens alone, the one who sacrificed for the collective. In this lifetime, his soul is healing that karma by leading with wisdom instead of fear. He’s their spiritual protector, even when things feel impossible. 🛡️

💞 The Core Emotional Connector – Siren & Mother

Okay, let’s talk about the emotional glue of the group. The person who holds the deepest connection to everyone, emotionally and spiritually, is symbolized by Siren & Mother. This means they have a hypnotic energy—someone who pulls people in, creates harmony, and nurtures the group's spirit. My guess? Jeonghan. 👀

🛤️ Soul Contract Pairs – Thread & Bridge

Two members share a Thread & Bridge connection, meaning one pulls the other forward, and the other holds them steady. It’s an unbreakable past-life tie. One of them might’ve been the other’s protector, guide, or karmic mentor before. DK & Woozi energy? Possibly.

💘 Another Soulmate Pair – Lover

We’ve got another divine soul bond here. This isn’t necessarily romantic (unless you want to interpret it that way 👀), but it’s deeply spiritual and magnetic. This pair knows each other on a soul level. Their bond has existed across lifetimes. Hmm… Joshua & Jeonghan, anyone? 👀

🔥 The Shadow Energy – Flame, Gnosis & Vessel

Not everything is sunshine and rainbows. The Flame represents raw passion and fire, Gnosis is hidden knowledge, and Vessel is the physical form. This means their biggest spiritual challenge is staying grounded despite their massive spiritual intensity. The group has to balance their divine purpose with their human experience.

🌊 Their Higher Calling – Ocean

They’re meant to be fluid, ever-expanding, and limitless. SEVENTEEN’s energy is like the ocean—depths unknown, constantly moving, and impossible to contain. Their legacy will ripple through generations. 🌊

🔮 Their Future Evolution – Kiss, Castle & Shapeshifter

Hold up—Kiss, Castle & Shapeshifter?? This tells me SEVENTEEN’s final evolution is something unimaginable right now. The Kiss means they’ll always be bonded, no matter what. The Castle? They’re building something huge—legacy level. And Shapeshifter? Expect them to completely transform into something new and unexpected in the future.

👀 Bottom of the Deck – Mask

One last little secret… there’s more to SEVENTEEN’s destiny than meets the eye. Their public image is only a fraction of the real story. The universe isn’t showing all its cards yet.

Final Thoughts

🔥 SEVENTEEN isn’t just a group—they’re a cosmic soul family. 🔥 They were destined to reunite after lifetimes of devotion. 🔥 Their energy is divinely protected and meant to inspire the world. 🔥 They will transform into something even greater.

So yeah… they were 100% written in the stars. 🌟💜

✨ That’s all for now, besties! Drop your thoughts, theories, and biases in the comments because this reading unlocked a whole dimension. 💓🫠💙💛✨️

[azorius-eloquence]

With so many extraplanar folks visiting Ravnica, to alleviate some potential culture shock, here are local guild expressions and customs.

This only goes over the guilds I personally have spent time in the territory of. I highly encourage other guild members to expand on this list for our extraplanar friends’ convenience!

Azorius Senate

“Peace and order.” - Formal greeting. Blessing of safety.

“Quadruple negatived.” - To make 100% sure of something. This is a reference to many of our laws using double or triple negatives to account for edge cases. If someone says this, they are telling you to be thorough.

“Heathen.” - One who knowingly refuses to follow customs and laws. Likewise, “Heathenry” is the knowing refusal of customs and laws.

“Worthy of unanimity.” - Of very high quality. Reference to the rareness of total guild cooperation on decisions

Boros Legion

“Hold fast.” - Formal greeting. Blessing of vigilance.

“Angellic.” - Correct, of high quality, or of extremeness.

“Truer than truth.” - Of excessive detail. Can be used either as a condemnation or an encouragement.

Orzhov Syndicate

“Prosperous day.” - Formal greeting. Blessing of fortune.

“Like dead old men.” - Outdated or corrupt. Reference to the guilds previous masters, who’re now immortalized in this expression.

Custom: In the syndicate, one is expected to bring a gift when visiting a superior. Or an inferior. Or a friend. Or a family member. Just, bring a gift if you have business in orzhov territory.

Selesnya Conclave

“As one.” - Formal greeting. Blessing of unity.

“Only for us.” - For something to be obvious or to affect many people. Of large consequence.

Custom: Openly carrying metal is frowned upon in much conclave territory.

[communist-manifesto-daily]

Socialism: Utopian and Scientific - Part 31

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We have seen that the capitalistic mode of production thrust its way into a society of commodity-producers, of individual producers, whose social bond was the exchange of their products. But every society based upon the production of commodities has this peculiarity: that the producers have lost control over their own social inter-relations. Each man produces for himself with such means of production as he may happen to have, and for such exchange as he may require to satisfy his remaining wants. No one knows how much of his particular article is coming on the market, nor how much of it will be wanted. No one knows whether his individual product will meet an actual demand, whether he will be able to make good his costs of production or even to sell his commodity at all. Anarchy reigns in socialized production.

But the production of commodities, like every other form of production, has it peculiar, inherent laws inseparable from it; and these laws work, despite anarchy, in and through anarchy. They reveal themselves in the only persistent form of social inter-relations — i.e., in exchange — and here they affect the individual producers as compulsory laws of competition. They are, at first, unknown to these producers themselves, and have to be discovered by them gradually and as the result of experience. They work themselves out, therefore, independently of the producers, and in antagonism to them, as inexorable natural laws of their particular form of production. The product governs the producers.

In mediaeval society, especially in the earlier centuries, production was essentially directed toward satisfying the wants of the individual. It satisfied, in the main, only the wants of the producer and his family. Where relations of personal dependence existed, as in the country, it also helped to satisfy the wants of the feudal lord. In all this there was, therefore, no exchange; the products, consequently, did not assume the character of commodities. The family of the peasant produced almost everything they wanted: clothes and furniture, as well as the means of subsistence. Only when it began to produce more than was sufficient to supply its own wants and the payments in kind to the feudal lords, only then did it also produce commodities. This surplus, thrown into socialized exchange and offered for sale, became commodities.

The artisan in the towns, it is true, had from the first to produce for exchange. But they, also, themselves supplied the greatest part of their individual wants. They had gardens and plots of land. They turned their cattle out into the communal forest, which, also, yielded them timber and firing. The women spun flax, wool, and so forth. Production for the purpose of exchange, production of commodities, was only in its infancy. Hence, exchange was restricted, the market narrow, the methods of production stable; there was local exclusiveness without, local unity within; the mark in the country; in the town, the guild.

But with the extension of the production of commodities, and especially with the introduction of the capitalist mode of production, the laws of commodity-production, hitherto latent, came into action more openly and with greater force. The old bonds were loosened, the old exclusive limits broken through, the producers were more and more turned into independent, isolated producers of commodities. It became apparent that the production of society at large was ruled by absence of plan, by accident, by anarchy; and this anarchy grew to greater and greater height. But the chief means by aid of which the capitalist mode of production intensified this anarchy of socialized production was the exact opposite of anarchy. It was the increasing organization of production, upon a social basis, in every individual productive establishment. By this, the old, peaceful, stable condition of things was ended. Wherever this organization of production was introduced into a branch of industry, it brooked no other method of production by its side. The field of labor became a battle-ground. The great geographical discoveries, and the colonization following them, multiplied markets and quickened the transformation of handicraft into manufacture. The war did not simply break out between the individual producers of particular localities. The local struggles begat, in their turn, national conflicts, the commercial wars of the 17th and 18th centuries.

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