#KRYPTEIA

[krypteiagroup]

CISA Releases SCuBA Hybrid Identity Solutions Architecture Guidance Document for Public Comment

https://www.cisa.gov/news-events/alerts/2023/03/15/cisa-releases-scuba-hybrid-identity-solutions-architecture-guidance-document-public-comment CISA has released a draft Secure Cloud Business Applications (SCuBA) Hybrid Identity Solutions Architecture guidance document for public comment. The request for comment period is open until April 17, 2023. Comments may be submitted to…

[the-good-spartan]

Stalkers in the Night: The Krypteia

Few groups are more obscure despite being comparatively well known as the Krypteia. Please be aware that this is a grim topic, so if the mention of brutality to slaves triggers you, you may like to skip this one.

There's a lot said about what the Krypteia was in modern scholarship, which as usual, presents speculation with the total confidence of fact. In reality, it can’t be so easily pinned down; or, as Ducat says in his work, Spartan Education, speaking of a general agreement between the preeminent scholars in the field, ‘[there is a] disproportion that… exists between what modern scholars say about the Krypteia, and what an objective analysis of the sources actually allows them to say.’

I have assembled all the primary sources that explicitly mention the Krypteia [here]. The following is just my summary and thoughts on the subject.

The Stalkers in the Night

We know that in Hellenistic times, the Krypteia were an intelligence gathering unit of the Spartan army - basically, scouts; however, it's broadly agreed that Sparta in the Classical period didn't engage in scouting (or spying) activites - a position that I find hard to believe, but more about that below.

There's a general prevalence of thinking of the Krypteia as, to use Cartledge's terms, 'a kind of secret police… roughly ‘Secret Ops Brigade’, the principal aim of which was to murder selected troublemaking Helots and spread terror amongst the rest.’

Two interpretations offered by Ducat.

As noted in the adjoined primary sources, Ducat discards two of the five sources keeping only Plato with the scolion, and Aristotle, so this is by no means an exhaustive array of possibilities.

A Test of Endurance.

In this version, the Krypteia was a test for the 'boys' in their final years of the agoge (Ducat posits 28-30, but perhaps between 18-20, when they weren't technically men - this, as I explain in my post about the agoge, is very shaky ground; there is nothing certain here), where they were sent out into the mountains. Initially, they would have no clothes or food. They were expected to survive for a year, during which they couldn’t be seen by people - perhaps older men whose task was to pursue them. They would have had to hide by day, while emerging to kill helots at random by night.

An Initiation Ritual

Drawing on Aristotle - a group of young men sent out for a brief period to target specific helot troublemakers as a test and perhaps a hunt. They, too, hid during the day and hunted at night. Ducat goes all in on the concept that this was an initiation rite into adulthood.

My Conclusion? I Don't Know Her.

One thing that Ducat really bangs on about is how this process, in whichever form, cannot possibly be a preparation for war. Where, he argues, would it be of use to be able to do without any supplies or clothes/shoes? To have to steal your food and make do without a slave? In standard warfare, these skills are of no use.

Personally, this is one of those times when I think the answer is entirely clear - this is not for warfare in the external, phalanx/battlefield sense; this is internal warfare, frankly guerilla warfare, very specifically against the helots. I firmly believe that whatever else the Krypteia may have been, or come to be, at this early period it was definitely the pointed end of the brutal and continuous warfare being waged against the slave population of Lakedaimon.

It was obviously intended to induce terror. The hiding, the coming out at night, the going unseen - this was intentional and consistent in all accounts. The killing of helots - whether targeted individuals or at random - was a process whereby these men were being killed without knowing it was coming.

I say men, as in Thucydides, he mentions how the Spartans (not the Krypteia specifically - he doesn't use this term at all) killed any Helot men they might see in the fields who was particularly well-built or strong-looking; and lest we forget the episode of the two thousand helots who'd served as hoplites along the Spartans in the phalanx that were killed after the terrible defeat at Koryphasion (Pylos) in 425 BCE. Thucydides says '...nobody knew how any of them were killed.' [Thuc, 4.80]. This smacks of the Krypteia. These were certainly all men.

I don't understand how anyone can come away from these sources thinking it didn't have anything to do with warfare - but that's Ducat. He and I do not see eye-to-eye on much.

I also just want to mention that I can't help but think there is more to the idea in Phylarkhos, though discounted by Ducat, that this was an intelligence unit in the army at this early stage; and that they were already intelligence gathering - even if that was only within Sparta. I mean, for one thing, if there are specific targets, then those targets had to be identified in the first place. Who was identifying them?

I could go on for much longer than this, but this is enough of a summary, I hope, to give you the broad strokes of my thoughts on the subject.

[onlyhurtforaminute]

ENTARTUNG-UNBER DIE GRENZEN DES TODES

[attackcopterblog]

TOOR KNIVES DEBUTS THE KRYPTEIA T FIXED BLADE KNIFE

Toor Knives has expanded on the popular Krypteia series of fixed blade knives with the new Krypteia T featuring a Tanto style blade. Toor Knives states “As a concealable blade with a low profile KYDEX® sheath, our Krypteia Tanto has a proven track record of versatility and protection. Whether being used as a policing tool on the streets, or tucked into the gear of a modern-day operator, this…

[smolsleepyfox]

Interesting article I read for my thesis recently:

Very much worth the read and fairly accessible even if you're unfamiliar with the topic.

I had to message the author personally because my uni doesn't have access to that journal. If you have the same issue just hmu 🤟🏻

[crowns-of-violets-and-roses]

“You do not have the luxury of that lie,” the old woman said. “You are to be a Mask, Tristan Abrascal. A creature of angles and lies, necessity’s bastard son. The Krypteia is despised by the other covenants because we are, in truth, as much a check on them as we are on the Watch’s enemies.” He could not quite see it, but he felt Abuela smile. “Care for them, if you like,” she said. “But do not ever forget that should they betray the Watch, it is you that will be called on to put poison in their morning tea.”

Calling it now at some point Tristan is going to be ordered to kill his cabal.

[brasideios]

WIP Wordsearch Game

I was tagged by @sleeplessincarcosa, thank you my dear!

My words are: help, eye, sit, hair and touch.

This was pretty fun - like a tour of my own WIPs :)

Help

From A Story Set in Sparta [I really must choose a better title for this project!]

It was dark as Adimantos passed out of the village, having slipped through the sleeping streets, the cold wind of early spring sharp on his skin – but he was used to that, used to ignoring it, bearing it stoically, like everything else. His thin cloak, something between a winter and summer garment not sufficient to either season, did little to help. The mountains, his destination, were at a distance as he slipped over fences and through long, empty avenues of olive trees, passing the small houses on individual lots, the kleroi, where the helots who worked the fields eked out an existence. All was quiet, no lights shone; they knew better than to draw attention at night with the ever-present threat of the krypteia – and with something of a start, it occurred to him once again that that was him right now. They feared his passing; it was his footsteps in the night that made the women hold their children a little closer.

Eye

This snippet is from a kind of breakaway piece of Arity - I have no idea where it fits, if at all, though I suspect it will end on the cutting room floor.

I found myself at five in the morning, or thereabouts, in the back seat of Brett’s four-wheel drive. Naturally, Jake has pushed himself in next to me; another guy Rowan, sits on the other side of him; and Brett and Luke are sitting in the front. They’re talking, at length, about breaks in New South Wales. I’ve tuned out, and am looking out at the ocean as the sky starts to lighten, and the water turns a very dark, rich green. I’m distracted when Jake’s hand slips casually along my calf, as he reaches (allegedly) to pick up his water bottle from by our feet. I look into his eyes, and he grins, a mocking kind of smile that says, you are so mine. I feel a shiver across the nape of my neck – it may well be a draft, it’s very cold again this morning – but I take it as an omen. I move my leg away from his hand, and give him a look that says, No matter how hot you may be, no matter how much you might strut around, there's no way I'm giving in to you. But I let myself smile too, because I don’t mean ever.

Sit

From the last scene that I added to Arity before I fell in a hole with it:

The coffee shop he chose was on the foreshore of Langarrin, the bottom floor of a high rise with woven cane chairs and dark wood everywhere. Elaborate ceiling fans whirred slowly, doing less than one would wish to cool the room. We sat in a booth on one side beneath one of them, for all the good it did us. It was busy that morning, with many people coming and going. Jimmy would nod or raise a hand now and then, but no one interrupted us. He ate like he hadn’t seen a meal in three days, and was finished long before I’d picked my way through the pancakes I’d ordered. He took the opportunity, sitting back with his cup of coffee in his hand, to say, ‘You wanted to know about my family.’ I nodded. ‘Only if you’re comfortable talking about it, though.’ He waved that off. ‘I told you my parents were older?’ ‘You did; and that you never knew your grandparents.’ He nodded, looking into his cup. After a long moment, he said quietly, ‘It’s hard to know where to start, actually.’ ‘Wherever feels right,’ I said encouragingly. ‘I’m listening.’

Hair

Another from A Story Set in Sparta:

The grasses shivered as the wind passed through them, the mountain above glimmering in the heat, the horses cropping the grass and flicking at insects with their tails and an occasional shake of the head.  He ran a hand along the flank of the bay colt, still young, still clumsy and all legs, who flinched at his touch but watched him boldly, with one eye.  He closed his own eyes, feeling the breeze blow his long hair away from his face, and stirring his beard.  The colt suddenly nickered and dashed away across the field, and Brasidas opened his eyes in time to see the colt reach his mother, calmly grazing at the crest of the hill.

Touch

From Newcastle 1929:

Fred went out to open up. There was always a bit of a rush from the regulars, the women whose homes lined the streets around them – small workers cottages, from the end of the last century; but that morning, a man came into the store in this first rush of women. They looked up at him sideways – he was head taller than any of them, and had wild blonde hair touched with red. He was obviously down at heel. Fred felt his heart sink even before he spoke. He saw him visibly square his shoulders and swallow his pride, before asking in a broad Scots accent, ‘Can y’ spare my family anything, lad? We’ve gone two days with nought to eat.’ He gestured at the doorway, in which two small girls stood, their eyes wide. ‘I’m sorry,’ Fred said, sighing deeply, and meaning it. ‘We may have something at the end of the day. Come back then.’ The man studied his face a moment, then nodded once. ‘Thank y’. I will.’ When he’d gone back outside, John stuck his head in from the kitchen. ‘You shouldn’t encourage them. You know there won’t be enough for even half who come.’ Fred only shrugged at his father, unrepentant.

~~~

Tagging (and apologies if you've already been tagged!) @ainulindaelynn @aeide @findusinaweek @myriath @woodsman2b @erzsebetrosztoczy @theinkandthesea @merelyafigment

Your words if you choose to accept them (lol) are: Spare, situation, certain, real and question.

[thatbostonbooknerd]

Rose Gold

Chapter Four: Ilithyia

“You’re with the Rising.” 

“The Republic,” she corrects him. Finally, she turns to face him once more, her features softening. “Now, I don’t suppose you know where the food is on this ship? I’m starving and we’ve got a long ride ahead of us.” 

Cassius finds that the Raa and their Krypteia left the food stores untouched. “The good news is, we recently stocked up,” he tells Ilithyia.

She quirks a eyebrow. “Is there bad news to go along with that?” 

He shrugs. “Depends on how picky you are about your culinary options.”

She can’t hold back a soft groan. Wonderful, two months of instant noodles and protein packets. And this after months living among the Raa, with their careful rations. Come to think of it, instant noodles might actually be an improvement. 

Minutes later, they sit in awkward silence at a small, round table. He gulps down the soup, while she eats hers carefully. He finishes before her, staring at the practiced motions in disbelief. Is he always this rude? She doesn’t expect much from men like him, but basic manners are among those few expectations. 

“You’re not at a gorydamn gala on Luna,” he says at last. 

The last of the noodles gone, she carefully sips a spoonful of the broth, pausing to level an icy glare his way. “That is not news to me. Are you always this moody?” 

“I am when I’ve gotten royally fucked in a duel and there’s no stims to take the edge off.” 

She hadn’t even thought to steal some before she freed him. Loathe as she is to apologize, she does anyway, and he softens with a sigh, waving away the apology as though to tell her let’s not talk of it anymore. 

“Do you need help getting back to your bunk?” she asks, but he shakes his head vehemently. 

“No, I can’t be in that room. I need to—” He shakes his head again, unable to finish. She waits patiently, and finally, he explains. “It was his room. I never realized…he’d painted his house sigil across the ceiling. I should have seen it, should have known he spent every night dreaming of getting it back. I suppose he’s doing just that, heading back with the Rim’s army at his back.” 

There’s so much under the surface of those words. He’s talking of the Lune boy, Lysander. She hadn’t paid attention to where she lay him and where she found another bed, exhausted from the escape. Ilithyia’s irritation ebbs, and she says quietly, “I didn’t know that. I’ll switch sleeping quarters with you.” 

He doesn’t protest. She offers her arm, and he accepts; it’s a sign of how much pain he’s in, for a man like him doesn’t take help from a Pink easily. Well, not this sort of help, that is. 

“You don’t like me,” he mumbles as she lays him against the pillows where she had lain her own head the night before. 

“I don’t know you,” she says. It’s easier to avoid the question. 

Unfortunately, even in his pained and exhausted state, he sees right through that. “And yet, you still don’t like me. Why?” 

She could simply walk away without answering. That would probably be the smarter thing to do. But since when has she chosen the smarter thing to do? So she tells him. “Because whether you’re in the Society or the Republic, men like you will never think twice of using girls like me, then tossing us aside like trash and laughing at the whore you discarded. Because men like you will do that even as they fight for the Rising, speaking of breaking chains but never once considering the girls who let themselves be shackled again just to pass along information. They’ll use that information, then they make deals with the men those girls had to degrade themselves before in order to get that information, and the girls are forgotten. Like everything they did meant nothing at all.”

He looks confused. She doesn’t care if he’s confused, or if he doesn’t know what she’s talking about. She doesn’t get to be confused. If only she could be so oblivious to what it means to be a Pink, but that’s not a luxury she can have. 

She presses her lips into a thin line. He’s still badly wounded, and he doesn’t need her bitter monologues, so she backtracks. “It doesn’t really matter. I don’t need to like you, I know you tried to do the right thing back there. But the boy made sure that was in vain, so the war is about to get much worse. If you meant what you said to the Raa, then that means that whether or not we like each other, we are on the same side. That far outweighs the question of whether or not I like you, wouldn’t you agree?” 

His brow furrows like a child practicing math for the first time. “I don’t think anyone’s ever told me to go fuck myself in quite that many words before.” 

In spite of herself, she smiles. “Sleep well, Cassius au Bellona. I promise to be nicer to you tomorrow.” 

[ilargizuri]

Three Things in One Creature - Part 6: Daenerys and the Hrakkar

When we look at the Lion as a Symbol of Death, we have to Take into Account who has the biggest Death Count, not only in personal loss but also in Killing People. And No matter how much we praise Daenerys for killing Slavers, that is killing a Person. So she has without a doubt the biggest Death Count.

But let’s count all her Deaths, Personal loss and active killing. I exclude her Brother Viserys because I would say with his Behaviour he sentenced himself to death, also I am unsure if it is a personal loss, mostly because Daenerys‘ reaction is understandably split between grief and relief. So I left him out for obvious reasons.

It started in “A Game of Thrones” with Khal Drogo, she smothered him with a Pillow. She also lost her Child because it is possible that her Slave Mirri Maaz Duur rebelled against her, to avenge her Village. Mirri Maaz Duur after that was sentenced by Daenerys to Death by fire. That makes at least 3 Deaths on Daenerys’s Page.

In the Next Book, Daenerys follows the Red Comet through the Red Waste and by that she loses the weaker Members of her Khalassar, mostly Children and old People. She decided to go East because they were surrounded by enemies, in the South were the Lhazareen, and in the North and West were Khalasars who wanted Daenerys to go to Vaes Dothrak and become part of the Dosh Khaleen. It is also numbered how many People they lost in the Red Waste, in Daenerys first Chapter in A Clash of Kings it is said that they lost a third of their number. We know that Khal Drogo had a Khalasar of ten thousand Dothraki Warriors, when Drogo fell ill, it was split between Jhaqo and Pono. We can assume that in a Society as the Dothraki, where Men and Warriors are highly valued, it is most likely that most of Drogos Khalasar left with Pono and Jhaqo, Jorah Mormont mentions to Daenerys that she has only a Hundred, let’s say she has 120 because that is easier to divide when Daenerys later says that they lost a third of her People in the Red Waste. That means the People who died by following her are at the Number of 40. She also kills the Undying in Qarth, which is the Reason she is sent away by the Pureblood. We don’t know how many Undying wizards she killed, but let’s say it was 20 Wizards in total.

After that Daenerys sails to Pentos, during that travel, Ser Jorah convinces her to buy herself an Army from Astapor. And then this happens:

»„Slay the Good Masters, slay the soldiers, slay every man who wears a tokar or holds a whip, but harm no child under twelve, and strike the chains off every slave you see.“« -Daenerys in Astapor to the Unsullied, Daenerys 3, A Storm of Swords.

We have no idea how many people lived in Astapor, but we can assume that it was on the level of a Big City during the Late Middle Ages, which is the period from around 1250 to 1500 AD. The Biggest Cities during that Time had a Number of approximately, 20000 Citizens. We know Daenerys buys 13600 Unsullied and Boys in Training. So let’s say these 13600 Slaves are part of the Population and Astapor does have a total population of 20000 People, that means we have only 6400 People left, from which we have to assume that there are still some slaves in the City, which by default means that the Slave population is higher than the Population of Free Man.

Little Sidenote, that means GRRM’s World building is a little problematic in its organization because, in a City that trains soldiers and sells them, there live more Slave Soldiers than free People who NEVER even THOUGHT about rebelling?

That would not happen. For Example, the Ancient City Sparta, famous for its Warrior Culture had a Secret Service, admittedly we know very little of that, BUT many Historians believe that ONE Function of that Secret Service (The Krypteia for google-purposes) was to prevent any Slave-Rebellions from happening. The Spartans lived in constant fear of a Slave-Rebellion, and for good reason, one Ancient historian took a guess and mentioned in his Writings that possibly 80% of Sparta’s population were slaves. So by Numbers alone, if all slaves rebelled against their Masters in Sparta, Sparta would have been destroyed.

Back to our calculation of a Fantasy-City whose Slaves are either dumb, blind, Lazy or all of that together. Because with the Information on how these Slaves are treated in Essos, I would say Real Life Slaves would have rebelled hundreds of years before Daenerys came to their City. So we were left with 6400 Citizens, for easy Calculations let’s divide that population into equal sizes one-third are Slaves, one-third are Women and Children under twelve and the Rest are Free Men and Guards. This means the Unsullied killed approximately, 2133 People with an unknown Number of Children who looked older than Twelve and other Casualties.

That Means by the Time Daenerys leaves Astapor she has a body count of presumably, 2196 dead People, not all of whom she killed personally or even intended to kill them.

She comes to Yunkai, the City has paid 2 sellsword companies who have 500 Men each and Yunkai has a standing Slave Army with 4000 Soldiers. Daenerys’s Army is better in Quality and quantity, and also she deceives her Enemies so that there will be even fewer dead People. And in the end, we learn that only 200 Soldiers lost their Lives. Which makes Daenerys’s Body count 2396 People.

She then travels to Meereen, where we have no numbers of the Casualties or any kind of Number aside from the 163 Slave Children who were killed by the Masters and later the 163 supposed Great Masters, we also learn during Daenerys’s court in Meereen that during the Sack a lot of Murders happened, committed by slaves against their Masters. And Daenerys pardoned all Crimes which were committed during the Sack of Meereen. So we have an unknown dark Number, again.

On a Sidenote, by pardoning the Crimes which happened during the Sack, Daenerys is hypocritical. She sentenced a Slave to death by Fire because she didn’t save Khal Drogo and possibly killed her Son during a Magical Ritual, although that murder could also be manslaughter because before Mirri started her Ritual she said the following to Daenerys:

»„You must. Once I begin to sing, no one must enter this tent. My song will wake powers old and dark. The dead will dance here this night. No living man must look on them.“« Miri Maar Duur, Daenerys VIII, A Game of Thrones

So she explicitly told Daenerys not under any circumstances to enter this tent! Which Daenerys did and that means we have to question Mirri’s Intention because we don’t know if she meant to kill Rhaego, although it is most likely that Khal Drogos State after her Ritual was the Outcome that would have happened no matter what. BUT she warned them not to enter the Tent, she did kill a Horse for the Bloodprize and started her singing. So possibly Rhaego was a casualty because Daenerys entered the tent after Mirri started to sing.

So by now, we can assume that Daenerys has a body count of presumably, 2559 dead People in her Chapters whose deaths she either ordered or caused because of her Actions. And this is without the dead People in A Dance with Dragons.

Daenerys tries to avoid unnecessary deaths during A Dance with Dragons because she wants Peace. But unwillingly, she causes a lot of innocent people to die, mostly because she didn’t train her Dragons when they were younger. Because of this oversight, Hazzea dies and later when Drogon arrives in Daznaks Pit, he kills 214 People and wounds three times more, which means he wounded around 600 People. And not all of these people were Meereenese Slavers or Noble Families, some were just people who were in the wrong place at the wrong time. By the Way, Drogon breathes Fire at everyone in his Reach because people shoot arrows and throw Spears at him, in other words, scared people trying to defend themselves from a big carnivore. So in total Daenerys either willingly, unwillingly or unknowingly killed 2773 People, with an unknown Number of deaths she caused in Astapor and Meereen.

So we have established the Body Count of Daenerys Targaryen, BUT where can we find the Lions or Cats in her Story?

There are surprisingly very few living Lions in her Story. The most Prominent is the Hrakkar which is killed by Khal Drogo and was then made into Daenerys’s favourite piece of Clothing, her Lion pelt is mentioned at least once in all books in which she is a Point of View. The First time it is mentioned, George Martin makes an interesting description which I will add here:

»Her Hair had burned away in Drogo’s pyre, so her handmaids garbed her in the Skin of the hrakkar Drogo had slain, the white lion of the Dothraki Sea. Its fearsome head made a hood to cover her naked scalp.« Daenerys I, A Clash of Kings

So Daenerys wears the Pelt with a Hood, which is the Head of the hrakkar. So from afar it would look like a human Body with the Head of a Lion. This is the Description of Lion of the Night, as we learn later in the Series from Arya’s Point of View when she arrives at the House of Black and White. There she sees an Ebony Statue of a God with the Head of a Lion and a Human Body sitting on a throne.

From the World Book, we learn that the Lion of the Night fathered with the Maiden-made-of-Light a son, The-God-on-Earth, who ruled over the Empire of the Dawn. But when one of his Descendents, the Bloodstone Emperor usurped and killed his Sister the Amethyst Empress, the Maiden-made-of-Light turned her Face away from the World and the Lion of the Night came forward to punish the wickedness of Men.

Interestingly, along these lines, that is what Daenerys wants to do. Her Family, most famously her Brother, was slain by a Usurper, a cousin of the Targaryen Family. And Daenerys wants to punish those who she thinks are responsible. So it is not the same Story, but the similarities are there and should not be overlooked.

Later Daenerys has the Vision of a Lion in the Dothraki Sea, many think it is a Vision of the Past about the Time her hrakkar pelt was still alive. But it could also be that it foreshadows Tyrion Lannister’s Travels to her, but it is a fact that she sees a Lion.

In the Next Book, Daenerys is in her pelt when she calls for Barristan, whom she knows as Arstan Whitebeard, because she wants to hear more stories about Rhaegar.

»When the old man came, she was curled up in her hrakkar pelt, whose musty smell reminded her of Drogo.« Daenerys IV, A Storm of Swords.

Later, Daenerys even seeks comfort in this pelt when she pulls the pelt tighter around her when she and Arstan talk about Lyanna Stark and Rhaegar and what started the Rebellion.

In “A Dance with Dragons” Daenerys wears her pelt when she goes to see the killed Unsullied.

»“He died for me.“ Dany clutched her Lion Pelt to her chest.« Daenerys I, A Dance with Dragons.

As we can see, Daenerys wears her Pelt every time it is mentioned and every time it is mentioned Drogo is also mentioned. Also, every time she wears it, either someone died recently or Death is discussed in some way. So Daenerys wears the pelt every time she mentions it, she doesn’t look at it in a closet or remember it, she always wears it. And she is always surrounded by death when she wears it.

I think Daenerys doesn’t need any real Lions in her chapter because the Way I see it, she is the Lion. As I mentioned the Sphinx is the Daughter of the hundred-headed Dragon Typhoon, the Targaryen see themselves as Dragons, Viserys, as well as Daenerys, said that someone wakes the Dragon when they get angry, referring to themselves as the Dragons. So it wouldn’t be too farfetched that GRRM thought about making the Daughter of a Dragon, the Lion Part of the Sphinx. Also, Death is a big part of Daenerys’s Chapters, as we established. So in my humble opinion, Daenerys is the Lion of the Sphinx.

How can this work out in the Endgame? I have no idea, but the most likely scenario is that Daenerys is meant to burn away what is left of the Old Ways, just like she did in the Essos. BUT is that good?

In some ways, it is, and in some ways, it isn’t we should never forget that at the End of this Dawn age, the Long Night started and in this Long Night and after it some Creations came to life. In Westeros that were the Others and after the Long Night in Essos came the Dragons. So if these Creatures are the Result of this unbalance, it is possible that they won’t survive when the Old Ways are destroyed. And we don’t know a lot about the Others, so we are not as attached to them as we are to Daenerys’s Dragons. But most likely the destruction of the Old Ways means also the Destruction of these Creatures because whatever caused the Long Night also laid the Groundwork to create the Others and the Dragons. The Others were created in an Environment where it was always cold and always Night, the Dragons were created in a Land that is called Always Summer, so it was probably a very long Summer. So they are most likely the magical embodiment of these 2 Extremes, flesh-made Ice and flesh-made Fire. Which means they will have to be destroyed to really ensure that the Balance will return.

And someone like Sansa or Arya won’t see that as a Problem, but as a necessary evil that has to be done. But Daenerys won’t like it. And I can see it happen that the Narrative challenges her in the Way that she has to sacrifice her children for the greater Good. And here comes the question that I can’t answer: How will she decide?

Many of her Fans will say that she will choose the right thing, without hesitation, but that’s not what Martin likes to write, he wants to write The Human Heart in Conflict with Itself. And there is no greater Conflict than a Mother who has to kill their Children and let’s be honest, most Parents would select their Children, not the World. So Daenerys won’t have a problem with destroying anything of the Old ways that are against her and her Throne, as I said her targets in Westeros are the Starks, Baratheons and Arryns, but if she wants to help her People and stop the others there most likely will come a Point where she has to destroy the Origin of the Long Night, the Reason Dragons and the Others exist and that will destroy her Children, the Dragons.

This Quote of Daenerys is very telling how I think she would choose:

This Quote of Daenerys is very telling how I think she would choose:

»She felt very lonely all of the sudden. Mirri Maaz Duur had promised her that she would never bear a living Child. House Targaryen will end with me. That made her sad. „ You must be my children,“ she told the dragons, „my three fierce Children. Arstan says that Dragons live longer than men, so you will go on after I am dead.« Daenerys IV, A Storm of Swords.

My next Post will hopefully be shorter and about another Candidate who could be the Lion in this Story.

Here you can reread my other Posts:

[senatushq]

NAME. Hyacinth AGE & BIRTH DATE. Prehistoric & Unknown GENDER & PRONOUNS. Male & He/Him SPECIES. Demigod VARIANT. Avariel OCCUPATION. Unemployed FACE CLAIM. Michiel Huisman

biography

( tw: death, blood, child soldier ) Greek authors would someday write of the beauty of the young prince of Sparta, Hyakinthos and the Gods Apollo, Boreas, and Zephyrus who competed for his affection. They would come to write of his skill with the lyre, of how the west wind betrayed him, but they forgot that Hyakinthos was born of Sparta, that he was more than Apollo’s doomed lover. The prince was descended from Zeus himself, grandson of the legendary hero Perseus, son of Queen Gorgophone of Sparta, and a demigod whose fondness for a flower later earned his namesake. Born with unsurpassed strength, the celebration that followed Hyacinth birth was repeated for generations to come. 

Being born male, and a son of one of Proto-Sparta’s two kings, the winter noble Oedapalus, meant only one thing, Hyakinthos was destined for the military. At age seven he was sent to train in the agoge and lived apart from his family so the young man could be fully immersed in the Spartan way of training. His homeland had no walls, thousands of years before his birth King Lycurgus had decreed that they be taken down, and that the young men of Sparta would train to be the walls of their state. Starved, beaten, trained to survive the most intolerable conditions, and desensitised to the trials of war, Hyacinth was released into the streets and told to steal. To fight. To do whatever was necessary to survive. Blades came to him with natural affinity, conjured from air, those that came his wave swerved and always missed their mark. A dancer of doru. 

Under his paidonómos, Hyacinth was intentionally starved and when he was caught stealing, the young man was whipped until he was unconscious. The Spartans valued brevity in speech, and tactfully the thoughtful young man learned to use his sharp tongue to his advantage. After he became accustomed to hunger, he learned next to coordinate with other boys from the agoge, to use the inherent magic that existed within the demigod’s veins to his advantage. The prince was naturally blessed, both in power and beauty, and as his body grew, his muscles hardened, his strength focused, and the young man survived. 

The prince had a natural affinity for leadership, his fellows would look to him for guidance, for council, for advice, and Hyakinthos took to this role in stride. The ephors took notice of this and made him a member of Sparta’s Krypteia, a form of police used to suppress the Helot population within both Sparta and the Spartan-controlled territories. At this point the prince had already pledged himself to a member of the Spartan military, a man that would be his shield, as he would be his. One he had already known for years, someone that the young prince could engage in with stories of war and conflict, garner advice from on strategy and how to best stay alive. It was a practice of friendship and love and respect, and it was how best to protect Mother Sparta.

With discretion, Hyakinthos wandered Sparta’s countryside, familial attachments were distant, unfamiliar now, as he had not seen his mother or sisters in over a decade. Still a young man, fresh-faced and keen, the avariel was said to be possessed of a monstrous level of strength that he hammered forward with his spear in an intricate dance. Transmute lungs into roses and leave fauna where rebels once stood. Sharp, beautiful, dangerous, the Spartan prince had been equally blessed with both beauty and rage. Focused by his years of training, the Krypteia was told to find the strongest of the Helots and murder them, to kill any who spoke of rebellion. Such was the practice of Sparta, Autumn came and annually the ephors declared war upon them, so the blood that ran over Hyakinthos was not seen as a sin, but instead was celebrated as a great service to Sparta.

Talented, ambitious, and proud, Hyakinthos joined the Spartan military at the age of twenty-one, officially, and under King Oedapalus the great state was on the move. A campaign that would never end, the Spartan way of life was superior, this was known across the Greek world. So much so, that notable houses from all over would pay tribute to send their sons through the training at the agoge, for a time, anyways. Hyakinthos met such boys in his youth, weak-minded Athenians, and barbaric Thracians, even those deemed worthy of similar training could not hold a blade to any true-blooded Spartan man.

It was the young man’s fate to prove himself on the field of battle, on behalf of his homeland Hyakinthos participated in one successful campaign after another; the prince fought with a grace that had not been seen since his grandfather Perseus had tactfully severed the head of the gorgon, Medusa. When he flew off on the winged-Pegasus that emerged from the blood that kissed the earth with the remnants of Athena’s magic. When drought led to shortages, his power tended to the fields, the prince became more than just another brick in Sparta’s high walls but was instead revered. Vegetation bent to his will, the Spartan’s laconic tongue served him well and inevitably Hyakinthos rose higher and higher as he was deified. Blessed with a mind well-suited for ambition, and beauty enough to catch the eye of even Apollo himself.

Hyakinthos toiled alone in the forests outside of Sparta, hidden somewhere in the wildernesses of Lakonia. The Pythia of the time had decreed that the campaign would not resume until the Spring, that the winter be spent in observance, and preparations for a great and terrible loss were to be made. It was here, bent over a yet unnamed flower of his own creation that Apollo first appeared before him, the God was as beautiful as any story had ever perpetuated, as expertly carved as any statue had ever been chiselled. More so, even, because to look upon him was to stare at the sun itself: bright and disarming, uncomfortably so. Apollo spoke most often in riddles, a challenger to the Spartan’s direct manner of thinking.

Hyakinthos, dejected, warned that he had not asked anything of the God, that he would be no more bound to the curse of a Sphinx than Apollo was to Spartan soil. Brave, unyielding, outspoken, Hyakinthos did not back down when challenged, and apparently this only further endeared the divine towards him, but he was not the only one.

Boreas first took notice of the Spartan prince when he saw that Apollo had managed to convince Hyakinthos to leave Sparta while his homeland was no longer at war, just for the winter, the God had promised, and despite his better judgement, he agreed. The God of the north-wind spotted the prince in the swan-drawn carriage of Apollo as the god escorted Hyakinthos from Sparta to Elysia. As they passed over Thrace and flew beyond the North Wind, Boreas was immediately enamoured. The God made claims of Hyakinthos’ beauty to Zephyrus loud enough that whispers of a competition for the Spartan’s heart were found among the Thracians.

The Elysians were a race of Gods, creatures unlike anything the Spartan had ever seen. They valued music, dance, craftsmanship, and it was here that Apollo trained the man to shoot his bow with all the lethal accuracy of a God. How to dance among the divine, how to make love under a sun that would never set. It was there that Hyakinthos honed his craftsmanship under Vulcan’s tutelage and at last, Hyakinthos claimed that he never wished to leave, but with a kiss, Apollo gave him a simple gift instead: the swan-drawn carriage he’d used to transport the prince to Elysia, a land nestled high above ruined Hyperborea. The promise was this: you may return whenever you wish.

It was Thamyris who awaited Hyakinthos back in Sparta, it would be to war once more, but not before the Thracian singer aimed to throw his name into the ring for Hyakinthos’ hand. The prince would need to be married in a few years, produce an heir, hopefully another Spartan man to add to the military, where, like him, he would serve until he was sixty years old. The Thracian singer, with his flowery words and ego were of no use to the Spartan, he had met greater men as a child and poets were better suited for Athens. Thamyris boasted he was a better singer even than the muses, and when they were called to prove such a claim, Hyakinthos named himself Thamyris’ prize should he win. When the muses were victorious, they slashed out the Thracian’s eyes and the singer returned home, blinded and disgraced.

Amused, Apollo boasted of his place at the prince’s side, even among the gods Hyakinthos was widely regarded. The envy of both God, and Goddess, Titan, and Titaness, Hyakinthos revelled in it, while outwardly the Spartan did not seem phased by the attention, privately he craved it. Grandson of Perseus, great grandson of Zeus, son of the Blessed Gorgophone, Hyakinthos had lightning in his veins and had always aimed to be regarded for more than simply his looks. He was a veteran of several conflicts, seasoned, hardened, and bright in the ways of military strategy. Already Hyakinthos’ feet had touched lands that not even the great Perseus had seen. And he was still just a young man, one who had barely kissed his prime.

Boreas came to him next; the north wind blew his carriage off-course one night and forced the prince to land so that he might get his bearings once more. The God presented Himself and Hyakinthos argued that had he wished to impress the Spartan then perhaps he should have done more than derail his voyage. Rejected, Boreas retreated, too proud to continue, but Zephyrus did not take rejection as kindly. He wanted Hyakinthos’ attention, plying the spartan prince with gifts, blessings for the Spartan people, favourable breezes under blistering hot days, relief from exhaustion on their ceaseless campaigns. Yet, in the end Hyakinthos did not choose the west wind, he chose Apollo, and permitted the God of prophecy boasting.

In Elysia, Elysium, and across Sparta, Apollo and Hyakinthos would hunt, and laugh, and sing, they fell quickly and madly in love with one another. Apollo taught the young demigod the art of prophecy after he spit in his mouth, he taught him storytelling, and the Spartan would reply in short, terse responses that were indicative of his laconic upbringing.  Hyakinthos had no skill for singing, or poetry, or prophecy, but he had the capable hands of a musician, and learned to play the lyre under Apollo’s expert tutelage. While the pair of them revelled in one another, the Gods of the West and North wind plotted their undoing. It was while the two-oiled frames of Apollo and Hyakinthos threw discus one morning that a stray-wind dictated a tragic end. A fatal fate for Sparta’s promising young prince.

Apollo, wracked with grief, cradled Hyakinthos’ lifeless body in his arms and wept as the tears of the God mottled with the blood of the earthen-witch, flowers of Apollo’s make sprouted from the ground where these two regents met. It would later be said that this was the power of transformation, that Hyakinthos’ soul was denied Elysium in favour of eternity under the baking sun as the purple and blue Hyacinth. But that was not the end of the Spartan’s story.

The God refused to be parted from Hyakinthos, refused to lose him to the other side, Apollo wove his power of his riddled tongue and bound the Spartan’s life and blood to the flower of his namesake. To ensure that nobody would attempt to steal the Spartan’s shade to the Underworld again, Apollo made a home for the two to share in Elysia so that they might be together for eternity.

But Apollo was not the first man to teach Hyakinthos the pleasures of the flesh, and while they reveled in each other most of all, the prince became quite used to the sight of the God sharing such mysteries with whomever he pleased. In Elysia and Elysium, the Spartan remained, content in paradise as years stretched towards centuries, before the passing millennia reached the twenty-first century. It was not just Apollo’s power that had waned, but all the Gods, and with the passing of years came an innate desire to see them all fall.

personality

+ dedicated, loyal, patient – dogmatic, aggressive, aloof

played by shane. est. he/him.

[the-good-spartan]

Sources on the Krypteia

Below are all of the primary sources that mention the Krypteia from antiquity. These are taken from Ducat's 'Spartan Education,' and it is worth noting that he discards all but Plato, Aristotle and the scholion from consideration.

[This is a companion post to Stalkers in the Night: The Krypteia.]

Plato (Athenian, Late 5th C BCE):

Plato alludes to the Krypteia in his dialogue, The Laws:

‘There is also something called the Krypteia, which is an extraordinarily harsh form of training: in winter, neither footgear nor bedding; no slaves, so that each one looks after himself; and wandering all over the territory, night and day.’

Aristotle (Athenian, 4th C BCE):

Aristotle later mentions the institution also:

‘It is said that [Lykourgos] also set up the Krypteia, whereby, even to this day, men go out of the city to hide by day, and by night in arms… slaughter helots as they think necessary.’

Plutarch (1st C CE. Roman period, Boeotian):

Plutarch in his Lykourgos 28.1]

1. In none of this is there any trace of the equitable spirit and desire to dominate, for which people censure Lykourgos’ Laws, saying that while they may be admirably suited to whipping up courage, they lack anything that might foster the practicing of justice. 2. It is the so-called Krypteia (if indeed that really is one of Lykourgos’ institutions as Aristotle states) that may have inspired Plato in his opinion of the Spartan institution and its author. 3. This is how it worked: from time to time, the authorities would send out into the countryside though with no specific objective, those of the neon whom they judged most intelligent, supplied only with daggers and essential rations, nothing else. 4. By day, dispersed in concealed positions, they stayed hidden and rested; at night they came down onto the roads and cut the throat of any helot they could lay hands on. 5. Often, too, they would range through the fields, killing the strongest and most influential of them.

Phylarchos (Hellenistic, 3rd C BCE. Birthplace contested - Athens, Naucratis in Egypt or Sikyon.):

Phylarkhos is quoted in Plutarch, Kleomenes 28: 

‘2. Phylarkhos, on the other hand, claims that treason was the chief cause of Kleomenes’ defeat… 4. He summoned Damoteles, the commander of the Krypteia, and despatched him with orders to observe and investigate what was going on at the rear of, and around, the lines.’

The Scholion of Plato (Unknown. C. 9th C AD):

A scholion is an explanatory note added to an ancient text to explain that text to a (at the time) modern reader. Scholions may be useful to us as the author of these notes may have had access to sources now lost to us; however, as the sources they used are not sited, they could be completely unreliable; they might be much later even than Plutarch. In this instance, it seems clear that the scholar was summarising two different text with two different versions of what the Krypteia may have been.

‘A young man would be sent out of the city, with orders to avoid detection for a certain length of time. He was therefore forced to live wandering the mountains, sleeping with one eye open so as not to be caught, and without being able to use slaves or carry provisions. This was also a form of training for war, since each young man was sent out naked, having been ordered to spend an entire year wandering outside the city, up in the mountains, and to keep himself alive by stealing and other shifts of that kind, and to do it in such a way as to avoid being seen by anybody. This is why it was called the Krypteia: because those who had been seen, wherever that might occur, would be punished.

[arthurdrakoni]

Three is set in Ancient Sparta. It follows a trio of helots who are on the run from a band of 300 Spartan warriors. This is my review.

Three takes place in Ancient Sparta in the year 364 BC.  It follows three helots names Klaros, Damar and Trepander.  They manage to survive as well as three helots can; each day's being its own small blessing.  One night, after their master Eurytos forces them and their fellow helots to get drunk and dance for his amusement, they kill their master and his Spartiates in revenge for massacring their fellow helots.  Now the three helots are on the run.  Danger lurks around every corner as they are pursued by their master's son, Nestos, and a band of 300 Spartan warriors.

So yeah, this comic is, in many ways, intended to be the antithesis to Frank Miller's (in)famous comic-turned-movie 300.  Kieron Gillen said that he was inspired to write this comic because he found 300 to be hypocritical, with how the Spartans bragged about fighting for freedom, and yet kept slaves.  From the very first pages we get a sense of this.  We begin with some helots picking olives, but then they're massacred by Spartans as part of the Krypteia.  Krypteia was an annual festival where Spartans were allowed to kill helots just for fun.  The Spartans did this to cull the helots, and prevent and slave revolts or other uprisings.  It also did a lovely job of keeping the helots in constant fear.

I suppose I ought to explain what helots are.  Helots were slaves who did all of the agricultural work, and other undesirable jobs, in Sparta.  To say that it sucked to be a helot would be a massive understatement.  Besides the Krypteia, there were several other ways to be killed.  For example, when young Spartans trained to be warriors they had a final exam to take.  However, if they successfully murdered a helot they automatically passed the final exam.

You don't really see many historical fiction comics, at least in America; it's a different story in France and Japan.  So, this comic was quite a treat, and there's a very strong commitment to historical accuracy.  At the end of the comic there are several pages devoted to explaining the reasoning behind different panels of the comic, and the historical research behind them.  There's also an extended conversation with a professor of Classical Antiquity who specializes in the study of Sparta.  

Even without all of that you can just feel that there was a lot of time, love and research put into this comic.  For example, at one point our trio of helots stop by a statue of Aphrodite, who is carrying a spear, and Trepander remarks that even the gods follow the insane way of life in Sparta.  The Spartans did indeed worship Aphrodite.  Ares was, unsurprisingly, Sparta's favorite god, but they did worship other gods.  Aphrodite is often depicted as Ares' lover, and you could make an argument that love and war spring from the same sorts of passions and emotions.  Also, all of the statues are depicted as fully painted in full color, just as they would have been in Ancient Greece. 

Another point of note is when we met Nestos' mother Gyrtias.  She's shown to clearly be the one in charge of the family plantation, especially after Eurytos is killed. Women in Sparta enjoyed quite a bit more freedom than most of the other city-states of Ancient Greece.  They managed the farms and estates while the men were off fighting wars and waging battles.  

Then there's the armor the Spartans wear.  Nine times out of ten, when you see Ancient Greek helmets they tend to be Corinthian helmets.  Corinthian helmets were the ones that covered almost all of the face, and often had plumes on the top.  Those appear here, but they're always shown to be older, more antiqued armor inherited from previous generations.  The overwhelming majority of the Spartan warriors wear opened-face conical pilos helmets; which is what most Spartans wore at the time of the story.  

Overall, the way that Sparta feels in this comic is a nation past its prime.  It's been almost 100 years since the famous Battle of Thermopylae.  Sparta's glory days are behind it, and everyone in positions of power are keenly aware of this.  That's why 300 warriors are sent after the three helots.  Even a rebellion that small could have major ramifications for Sparta's waning way of life.   

Have you read Three? If so, what did you think?

Link to the full review on my blog: http://drakoniandgriffalco.blogspot.com/2018/09/comic-review-three.html?m=1

[theshampyon]

Aussie kids who study Ancient History in high school get admittedly brief overviews of Ancient Egypt, Rome, and Greece, but it certainly doesn't gloss over shit like the Krypteia. We were taught with no uncertainty that Sparta was horrifically brutal and unequal.

Which I guess makes the popularity of the 300 movie here even worse...

Despite Sparta’s reputation for superior fighting, Spartan armies were as likely to lose battles as to win them, especially against peer opponents such as other Greek city-states. Sparta defeated Athens in the Peloponnesian War—but only by accepting Persian money to do it, reopening the door to Persian influence in the Aegean, which Greek victories at Plataea and Salamis nearly a century early had closed. Famous Spartan victories at Plataea and Mantinea were matched by consequential defeats at Pylos, Arginusae, and ultimately Leuctra. That last defeat at Leuctra, delivered by Thebes a mere 33 years after Sparta’s triumph over Athens, broke the back of Spartan power permanently, reducing Sparta to the status of a second-class power from which it never recovered. Sparta was one of the largest Greek city-states in the classical period, yet it struggled to achieve meaningful political objectives; the result of Spartan arms abroad was mostly failure. Sparta was particularly poor at logistics; while Athens could maintain armies across the Eastern Mediterranean, Sparta repeatedly struggled to keep an army in the field even within Greece. Indeed, Sparta spent the entirety of the initial phase of the Peloponnesian War, the Archidamian War (431-421 B.C.), failing to solve the basic logistical problem of operating long term in Attica, less than 150 miles overland from Sparta and just a few days on foot from the nearest friendly major port and market, Corinth. The Spartans were at best tactically and strategically uncreative. Tactically, Sparta employed the phalanx, a close-order shield and spear formation. But while elements of the hoplite phalanx are often presented in popular culture as uniquely Spartan, the formation and its equipment were common among the Greeks from at least the early fifth century, if not earlier. And beyond the phalanx, the Spartans were not innovators, slow to experiment with new tactics, combined arms, and naval operations. Instead, Spartan leaders consistently tried to solve their military problems with pitched hoplite battles. Spartan efforts to compel friendship by hoplite battle were particularly unsuccessful, as with the failed Spartan efforts to compel Corinth to rejoin the Spartan-led Peloponnesian League by force during the Corinthian War. Sparta’s military mediocrity seems inexplicable given the city-state’s popular reputation as a highly militarized society, but modern scholarship has shown that this, too, is mostly a mirage. The agoge, Sparta’s rearing system for citizen boys, frequently represented in popular culture as akin to an intense military bootcamp, in fact included no arms training or military drills and was primarily designed to instill obedience and conformity rather than skill at arms or tactics. In order to instill that obedience, the older boys were encouraged to police the younger boys with violence, with the result that even in adulthood Spartan citizens were liable to settle disputes with their fists, a tendency that predictably made them poor diplomats. But while Sparta’s military performance was merely mediocre, no better or worse than its Greek neighbors, Spartan politics makes it an exceptionally bad example for citizens or soldiers in a modern free society. Modern scholars continue to debate the degree to which ancient Sparta exercised a unique tyranny of the state over the lives of individual Spartan citizens. However, the Spartan citizenry represented only a tiny minority of people in Sparta, likely never more than 15 percent, including women of citizen status (who could not vote or hold office). Instead, the vast majority of people in Sparta, between 65 and 85 percent, were enslaved helots. (The remainder of the population was confined to Sparta’s bewildering array of noncitizen underclasses.) The figure is staggering, far higher than any other ancient Mediterranean state or, for instance, the antebellum American South, rightly termed a slave society with a third of its people enslaved.

[seasideretreat]

Krypce

I must tell you what's what. The things we have seen happening over the past few years are terrible and magnificent at the same time; they happen all the time and they constrict us in our work; but at the same time they create a level of pacificity that makes us notice the little things more, which makes us aware of the beautiful world and allows us to exist in the here and now more, to see the wonders of the world more clearly.

It seems ancient Sparta is a place long forgotten: other than, say, ancient Athens, Sparta hasn't contributed lasting institutions to modern civilization: there are no grandiose schemes of philosophy and culture, no playwrights and statesmen, no poets and ascetics: only heroes. Leonidas of Sparta, the legendary king, looms large in modern representations of ancient Greece, but his legacy is adventure, not enterprise. Yet there is a vocabulary, that I have discovered, that is quite edifying and informative, which is entangled within Spartan culture: notably the word spartan itself, which conveys a whole range of noble attributes, such as austerity, moderation and hardiness. Then there is the word laconic, which conveys down-to-Earthness, economy of words and wisdom. These two words alone, with their precise and noble meanings, are a great bone to free thought. But there's more, I have discovered. There is agoge, which is the name of the Spartan training program for youths, which conveys a unique style of instruction that joins us to the work of everyday usefulness, and makes us realize how to perfect our smallest efforts. Then, notably, I have discovered the word krypce from the depths of Spartan history, which is my translation of the word krypteia which means secret police of sorts. But in my definition, krypce means something specific and glorious: it is a style of reasoning, that makes us know the schooling of the highest orders, recreating ourselves, to make us truly pastoral in our work, making us truly elevated.

That's what's happening. The greatness of knowledge and ignorance will be delivered to us: there will be mighty moments of reckoning and atonement, but we will continue working to liberate the oppressed and enslaved, and we will grow in wisdom and intelligence to make the most of everything, so that we can really know the truth and free the down-trodden and foolish simpletons that have the worst of fate's fortunes. When we really see the movements of history in the fabric of the world, we will be free to reminisce about the by-gone days and glorify our history in the annals of pure happiness and revolution, so that there will be order and beauty at last, and no more tearsdrops and no more sorrow. This is what I see in krypce especially: a method for honesty and dignity to reign supreme, and give everyone a chance to shine in the world and be happy and joyful in the eventuality of justice and reward. We must be solitary for a time, but we will not be alone: the great operation of virtue is going to give us a boon in the elucidation of justice and reward, and there will be a new delivery of wealth and prosperity so that we will be united in our happiness and our knowledge, and mostly in our modesty and our reception of wealth and lustre.