#Lord Plunder

[evilhorse]

Wotta set o’ lungs!

[maniacwatchestheworld]

I do find it kinda funny how when it comes to Batman rogues, especially the more niche and obscure ones, people hear about characters like Snowflame or Lord Death Man with a cool, egdy name and an interesting character gimmick and think, "Wow what a cool and interesting villain! They must have some really good dark, edgy, and serious stories under their belts!" When in reality they are just silly little goobers. Meanwhile, they laugh at characters like Calendar Man or the Penny Plunderer on the sheer absurdity of their character themes alone, not realizing that the people at DC have been spending the last few decades taking these silly, goofy character concepts and making them as dark, serious, and edgy as possible. Just saying. Calendar Man apparently led a cult, and in current continuity, grows old and dies at the end of each year, only to get reborn again shortly afterwards! Which fuckin' SUCKS! And last we saw of Penny Plunderer, he was actually burning in hell. Oh yeah, he was also executed. Why? Probably attempted child murder. :/ Just a funny dichotomy. :p

[mako-designated-driver]

Codex Entry #92: A Ghoulish Delight

My dearest Regine:

Surely you must have heard of the Paget's failing fortunes? They've lost almost everything. The lord made some bad decisions and trusted people he shouldn't. All that's left is La Maison Verte, in the Dales. They have to sell it and move to the city. I was called upon to find someone willing to buy the house. You would be so proud of me. I surpassed all the lord's expectations.

I looked into La Maison's history first. Did you know it was built in the time of the elves? It was a sanctuary dedicated to Andruil, goddess of the forest; the house was built around the ruins. The heart of the shrine was an etched stone altar, now in the grand hall. It's quite spectacular. Any noble in Val Royeaux would be envious of something with such historical significance. I planned a party to show off the house and its elven altar. We had it decorated with white flowers and candles, even brought in some harts to graze in the garden outside. The effect was stunning.

Then, my stroke of genius! Remember when Lady Carine's pastime was reading about elves, and how sympathetic she was to what happened in the Dales? She couldn't stop talking about how we must make contact with the restless elven spirits. All her lady companions were so taken with the idea. Well, I did just that. Or I made the guests believe that's what happened. I had to hire a mage to help, of course—a very discreet fellow from Montsimmard.

During the party, I talked about how the house was a haunt for sad elven spirits. They ate it all up. Romantic, they said. For the final touch, I had everyone join hands around the elven stone and pray, and the mage (no names!) cast a spell that made us dance like puppets on strings and sing "The Little Bluebird of Summer."

It was a triumph! Offers began pouring in! One of them was even from a representative of Grand Duchess Florianne.

Oh, I have so much to tell you. I can't wait to return.

With great love,

Ignatius

[fogaminghub]

🌙💀 Calling all adventurers! The Witches Festival is creeping onto Tamriel from October 24 - November 6! Join the spoopy fun by battling the mighty Lord Hollowjack, collecting Plunder Skulls, and unlocking tons of spooktacular rewards! 🎉👻

Are you brave enough to take on the festival's horrors? Let’s show them what we’re made of!

[savage-kult-of-gorthaur]

JUNGLE ADVENTURES OF THE SUPER-SEVENTIES..."AT THE BOTTOM OF THE WORLD!"

PIC INFO: Spotlight on remastered & original published cover art to "KA-ZAR" Vol. 2 #2. March, 1974. Marvel Comics. Artwork by Gil Kane, John Romita, & Gaspar Saladino.

Resolution at 1164x1764 & 1042x1508.

"Your offer's tempting, though... You're my type, Ka-Zar -- Free and wild!"

—SHANNA THE SHE-DEVIL (Shanna O'Hara), story/script by Mike Friedrich

Sources: eBay & Marvel Database.

[comicavalcade]

Submariner Summer 30

Ay mi amigos, it is time for a key edition of #SubmarinerSummer, because here in part 30 we are covering Tales to Astonish #96: Somewhere Stands...Skull Island! Namor faces off Plunderer and his vibra-gun on Skull Island right on the cover; love both figures' sense of motion

Raymond Marais takes over the tale, with Everett pencils and Colletta inks. The Title page gives us Namor back on his throne in Atlantis, ready for another Council of War. Dorma's still voicing her misgivings, though, thinking he's acting in rash hatred.

But Namor can't let go that the "air-breathers" had the temerity to build an undersea city in his territory. He feels its too late for diplomacy and he must act now. Vashti speaks up and reminds him he'd best take care of Plunderer first; Namor agrees, and knows where he is

As a Ka-Zar villain, Plunderer's base is of course in the Savage Land. So, Namor goes towards Antarctic waters since the Savage Land is hidden there. While there he visits the crumbling ruins that was his boyhood home, the previous Atlantis now destroyed, and makes his way to-

-the grave of Princess Fen, his dear beloved mother, the very sight of which threatens to overwhelm him. He attempts to banish the sadness with a happy memory. But he soon recalls instead the city's death and destruction, and her's, at the hands of an attack from the surface

So now we've seen how he lost his first city, his mother, and his memory, though he isn't sure who on the surface is to blame. But the surface keeps pushing, so he feels he must go to war...once Plunderer is taken care of. Before he can, though: Savage Land sea monster attack!

Just then, Dorma arrives, having felt compelled to go where Namor went. Unfortunately, she picks the wrong moment to get closer, as just then Plunderer attacks Namor and she gets caught in the blast radius!

But it takes more than that to stop Namor, especially when he's in the water, much to Plunderer's shock. Just as Namor is about to wrap him up, he reveals he saw Dorma sink from the previous attack and a wild-eyed Namor lays him out before going to her. She's actually fine, but he's angry

She wants to be beside him, but he tells her to return to Atlantis. She wonders if there's something else behind his anger. You ask me, he should keep Action Dorma. Unfortunately by the time Namor returns to the Plunderer, he's laid a trap for our Prince

Um. Plunderer sure knows how to outfit some henchmen, huh? Better rename it from Skull Island to Beefcake Island. At any rate, Plunderer has a scheme in motion because, y'know, villain. Meanwhile, Dorma makes it back to Atlantis, where their screens give a puzzling view of Namor

But the truth is Namor is caught, and the Plunderer's plan is conquest! We are once again at a cliffhanger, Namor Nation.

Once again we see the debate between Dorma and Namor about war, we revisit the site of the Atlantis from the Golden Age comics, go over its destruction, and the loss of one of the key characters in all Namor's history, his mother Fen. Oh, plus a sea monster, and a villain scheme. Quite a full issue, and you see why I called it key right at the start!

But now we look forward, because NEXT we will cover Tales to Astonish #97: The Sovereign And The Savages

[lordgodjehovahsway]

1 Chronicles 20: God Hands Over Rabbah To David And His Army

1 In the spring, at the time when kings go off to war, Joab led out the armed forces. He laid waste the land of the Ammonites and went to Rabbah and besieged it, but David remained in Jerusalem. Joab attacked Rabbah and left it in ruins. 

2 David took the crown from the head of their king—its weight was found to be a talent of gold, and it was set with precious stones—and it was placed on David’s head. He took a great quantity of plunder from the city 

3 and brought out the people who were there, consigning them to labor with saws and with iron picks and axes. David did this to all the Ammonite towns. Then David and his entire army returned to Jerusalem.

War With the Philistines

4 In the course of time, war broke out with the Philistines, at Gezer. At that time Sibbekai the Hushathite killed Sippai, one of the descendants of the Rephaites, and the Philistines were subjugated.

5 In another battle with the Philistines, Elhanan son of Jair killed Lahmi the brother of Goliath the Gittite, who had a spear with a shaft like a weaver’s rod.

6 In still another battle, which took place at Gath, there was a huge man with six fingers on each hand and six toes on each foot—twenty-four in all. He also was descended from Rapha. 

7 When he taunted Israel, Jonathan son of Shimea, David’s brother, killed him.

8 These were descendants of Rapha in Gath, and they fell at the hands of David and his men.

[sssaintyboy]

update: still cant stop playing rimworld

also now everything is medieval themed because (failing) making medieval themed towns so so funs!

i want to achieve my lifelong goal of actually finishing my castle walls ..... wish me luck

[tenth-sentence]

The rulers reward these lords by sharing plunder with them.

"Why the West Rules – For Now: The patterns of history and what they reveal about the future" - Ian Morris

[revvethasmythh]

on the one hand, i both understand and somewhat agree with the criticism that the lords of fortune were defanged of the more problematic elements that accompany treasure hunting and piracy, but on the other hand the idea that isabela reformed her raiders into a group that checks how important a plundered item is culturally before doing anything with it specifically because the last time isabela did NOT do this it resulted in An Actual Violent Coup That Almost Destroyed Kirkwall And Got The Viscount Literally Murdered is so fucking funny that i'm just like "yeah, fair enough"

[kdmiller55]

Give Credit Where Credit Is Due

25 The Lord said to Moses, 26 “Take the count of the plunder that was taken, both of man and of beast, you and Eleazar the priest and the heads of the fathers’ houses of the congregation, 27 and divide the plunder into two parts between the warriors who went out to battle and all the congregation. 28 And levy for the Lord a tribute from the men of war who went out to battle, one out of five…

[evilhorse]

The scion of an English lord throws back his golden-maned head…

[convertgrapeling]

reading about the coronation ceremony, it's impossible to parody this thing because the actual details are so ridiculous. instead of just having Christian leaders present, charles will make things more inclusive by also having Buddhist, Hindu, Jewish, Muslim and Sikh leaders bowing down to him! the chair he will sit on whilst wearing a crown made from plundered gold and jewels is recycled! the sovereign's sceptre will be carried by a black woman! instead of just asking lords to swear their allegiance, the king will demand the allegiance of everyone in the country!

i mean you wouldn't want to feel excluded from a ceremony glorifying britain's long history of colonial domination, murder and plunder, as well as our ongoing inclination towards boot licking during an event to honour one of the UK's biggest landlords at a time of widespread deprivation, would you?

[edennill-archived]

Yes! — I've also thought a lot about just how important the Lay of Leithian must have been to them in those last years — the great defeats of Sauron and Morgoth, sure, but also Finrod's Ten, "but none would yield and none would tell", et cetera. Probably treated almost like a prayer at times, even — I've written upon this here and here, I think. I've never considered the lesser known stories in that context though, and the bit about the Third Kinslaying is fascinating to think about. Venerating Bor out of spite at the racism of the ruling class... wow.

The reason I'm wondering about martyrological traditions is that, well, I'm hard-pressed to imagine that a people (and religious tradition!) who experienced such persecution could not have one... except that what happened in Númenor, with that entire "human sacrifice to the embodiment of evil" facet is, I think, slightly more awful than anything that happened — on a similar scale — in real life history (and the things that did were already... bad). And I don't know if they'd be able to look at it with anything but horror, even knowing these were heroes, these were people who conquered in death — and to be honest, the idea that they wouldn't even be able to draw comfort from the bravery of others, would make that completely terrifying situation even worse. I don't know if I want that, from a "narrative satisfaction" POV, but I keep debating this with myself.

I'm also wondering in how much did they take the whole idea to be a parody of their own religious traditions — how much Sauron intended it to be in fact — as the kings did make bloodless offerings (i.e. fruit and grain probably) upon Meneltarma. The kings of Gondor are still high priests, but they fulfill any rites alone (anyone have that letter in which Tolkien expounds on this?) — and I feel like what prompted the change had to have been either a sense of collective guilt, or lingering horror at the once-committed desecration.

You're probably right that any martyrological tradition would swiftly decline in popularity during the Third Age; I don't think that if one existed it could be utterly forgotten, but it wouldn't be something an average citizen thinks about too often (or at all), and the númenórean co-responsibility for it might be downplayed too (although I do have this particular headcanon about the Gondorian psyche that might preclude this somewhat, but I believe "they didn't want to think about it too much" is more or less canon...) I do imagine that there is, for example, a symbolic grave someone had raised in Pelargir to a kinsman who was slain in the temple, and that centuries later, there is still a tradition of leaving flowers upon it, but these are local things and need not be accompanied by too much reflection over what they really mean.

(Tbh, I wonder what it looks like in Gondor vs. Arnor, because the latter strikes me as both less connected to that Númenórean heritage, for very understandable reasons — Gondor was always nearer and is partially founded upon the colonies — and more... I don't know how to describe it, ascetic maybe — especially after its might is dissolved? rational? likelier to focus on tragedies?)

The questions of morality when living at the heart of a tyrannical empire are also an interesting subject, since you cannot really avoid being partially complicit. The Lords of Andunië canonically have ships and riches, so I think it's likely the Faithful in the Westlands/Romenna (I have no idea where they were living at this point and the text itself isn't helpful) were almost self-sufficient as a whole — but not all of them were part of this community. At the same time, I also think there was a lot of internal debate on whether the colonialism is justified — I really don't imagine Elendil & co supporting slavery, but there has to have been someone who used the very beliefs of the Faithful to justify it ("We were given this island and power by the Valar, so what follows is that they want us to rule the world et cetera"). Which conflict probably also boils over into how the kingdoms-in-exile approached the "middle men" later on.

Do you maybe have any thoughts about the Faithful in Númenór, esp. in the last, darkest years... their motivations and ways of going about the hellish reality they found themselves in? Do you think the later remnant that formed the kingdoms in exile has a martyrological tradition?

(feel absolutely free to ignore this if I'm being presumptuous by asking — I don't think Númenor is your "specialty" as far as I'm aware, but I really like your philosophical approach to the Silm in general and I kind of yearn to hear the opinions of other religious people on the Akallabeth... since I think one cannot ignore that facet of the story, as interwined with the subject as it is)

I love these kinds of asks and I’m delighted you sent it! I hadn’t comsidered it before – thank you for setting me off thinking about it, because it is fascinating!

I think you’re right, that the Faithful would certainly have matrys and hold strongly to the memory of them as inspiration to hold fast in dark times. It must have bern horrific to them, seeing their entiee culture that they loved twisted and turned to the service of evil, and their friends dragged off as human sacrifices on Sauron’s altars. Remembering borth their own martyrs, and heroes of the First Age who defied the darkness, like Beren and Lúthien and Finrod and Húrin, could be inspiration in that time. I can even see them developing traditions around parts of the First Age they hadn’t thought much about until that time; for example, Fëanoreans followers who turned against the Fëanoreans during Sirion could be an image of rejecting allegiance to your nation-state when it has turned to evil. Or around Bór and his people, who fought against Morgoth; which could also become a symbol of solidarity with the Men of Middle-earth whom Númenor was victimizing. You would see Faithful risking their lives to save Men of Middle-earth from being made sacrifices, and being killed themselves (which would probably also draw parallels with Finrod in Tol-in-Gaurhoth), and memorialized by the Faithful. Martyrdom would be further elevated by being a symbolic contrast to the obsessions of Ar-Pharazôn and his followers: willingly giving up your life in service of what is right, set against the all-consuming obsession with avoiding death.

I think one thing that would become pressing to the Faithful in the time of Ar-Pharazôn and Sauron (and even well before that) would be the question of how to avoid being complicit in an empire that is bring your country such wealth and power. Because of this, I could see a strong ascetic tradition developing among some of the Faithful, living with minimal possessions and on simple food to avoid partaking of the spoils of empire; the love of craft and beauty is rooted to deeply to disappear, I think, but for some it would change to a determination that the only objects of art/beauty you would have would be ones made by yourself and your loved ones – a sort of return to the roots of what makes art meaningful, in human connection not vain display.

In times of such despair, I can also see these things taking a darker turn in some cases. People deliberately seeking out a martyr’s death for its own sake, seeing it again as a defiance of the King’s Men’s obsession with extending life, and because they had lost hope of things ever being better. Ascetics deliberately starving themselves to death.

In the kingdoms in exile, Arnor and Gondor, it becomes complicated in a different way. When the Faithful left Númenor, I think they knew in their hearts something dreadful was going to happen; but I don’t think they necessarily expected it to encompass the destruction of the entire island and everyone on it. While the martyriologucal tradition may have endured until the end of the Second Age, while they were fighting Sauron, as a memorial of what he had done to them and why it was necessary to fight, I think that things would have changed fairly rapidly in the Third Age. When we look at how Gondor remembers Númenor – the ritual of looking west before dinner as an equivalent to saying grace, and the way it’s talked about throughout The Lord of the Rings – it feels remembered primarily as a glorious lost past, not as a cautionary tale. I think the memory of Ar-Pharazôn’s era would have faded quickly, and the earlier history of Númenor would have been valorized – at first the time of Elros and the years when things were uncomplicatedly good, but after a while even the pre-Sauron time of empire and the years of Tar-Ciryatan and Tar-Atanamir might also be remembered as glory days, and the Downfall seen as the tragic consequence of corruption brought about by Sauron, rather than a progressive moral decline that long preceded Sauron and of which he was only the culmination. I think that it’s natural to idealize a thing once you’ve lost it; even a political refugee who left their country because it was tyrannical and oppressive – even one who had vigorously opposed their country’s actions as immoral – would feel grief, nostalgia, sentiment, if while in exile they saw that country destroyed. So I think that in the Third Age, Gondorian memory of Númenor as a whole becomes rather hagiographic, and the period under Ar-Pharazôn and Sauron is sidelined as an anomaly.

[hubbaslubba]

the ‘lords of fortune make sure we dont take artefacts of cultural importance’ is wild for many reasons but IDK if youve studied even a little bit of a humanities subject like history or archaeology or anthropology (or just thought about it rly) it is easily argued that EVERYTHING they could feasibly be taking is of cultural value

its such a wishy washy statement that appears to flirt with this vague notion that colonialism is bad but doesnt actually decide to engage with this in any deep way. really just salt in the wound given how staggeringly orientalist the depiction of the rivaini and qunari are

i would love if the lords of fortune were presented as a group of people who do plunder things of important cultural value and then actually made the player engage with this idea. it could be a really confronting thing given how ‘looting’ is such a core mechanic of so many games including this one. not saying to get didactic about it but make the player think about something thats v much taken for granted

[whimsyvixen]

𝕄𝕚𝕟𝕖

Resident Evil Drabble

Pairing: Lord Dimitrescu x Female Reader

Rating: 18+

Synopsis: You learn that you can never refuse your Lord's desire for you.

WARNINGS/TAGS: dark smut, rape/noncon elements, extremely dubious consent, explicit content, teratophilia, master/slave, monster/human, overstimulation, forced pleasure, table sex, dacryphilia, food kink? Lord D likes to attend to you, unprotected sex, creampie, very obvious size difference since he's literally fucking 9'' tall.

A/N: Guess my perverted ass did want to write more filth for this man. Gonna have to dedicate this to all those Lord D fans out there 💋!! I changed up his design a little so I hope you still like it!

The castle was cold, goosebumps rising on your skin and making your nipples stiff beneath your dress. You couldn’t suppress shivering, folding your arms over your chest to try to stay warm, unknowingly giving your Lord a flattering view of your cleavage. You squeezed your legs together, mortified when you could still feel it swirling inside you, Lord Dimitrescu’s gift to you filling your womb. 

After swallowing the last bite of food on your plate, you looked up nervously to your right, flinching at the intense look your captor threw your way. He was a giant, making you feel like little more than a doll seated at the table, the satin, maroon night dress you had donned making you self conscious from how thin it was. It did little to hide every imperfection or curve along your body, making you lift your shoulders up defensively as his eyes traveled down your seated form. 

He filled up your cup, the red liquid swirling around the glass making you uneasy as it reminded you of the color of blood. You didn’t bother to reach for it, Lord Dimitrescu already bringing it to your lips to coax you to drink it. He held your chin gently, his eyes focused on your puckered lips as he raised the glass. To your relief, it tasted like ordinary wine (albeit with a very rich texture) and not the metallic taste you feared. The liquid ran smoothly down your throat, a trickle escaping the corner of your mouth to trail down the length of your neck to slide between your breasts. 

Lord Dimitrescu’s attention was fixated there, bringing a calloused thumb to trace the path of the droplet, grazing the numerous bites and hickeys littered across your neck and shoulders along the way. When he tugged down the front of your dress, exposing your naked tits to his hungry gaze, you had to resist the urge to scoot away from him, gripping the sides of your chair tightly to allow him to inspect you. 

The feeling of his warm palm caressing your globe had you biting your lip, unwilling to let him know much comfort it brought to your freezing body. When he tugged on your nipple, squeezing the tiny nub between his thumb and forefinger, you couldn't contain your small mewl, breathing shallowly as your nerves lit up with your arousal. He shifted his gaze back to your heated face, taking in your tortured expression with a smile before leaning down to kiss you gently on your soft lips. 

It started out innocently, his lips brushing against yours in a teasing manner as he continued to grope at your plump breast. It had you sighing into the kiss, your body responding to his soft touch as it warmed up your body. When you felt his other hand squeeze your inner thigh, you gasped allowing his tongue to breach past your lips to plunder the hot caverns of your mouth. From there, the open mouth kiss turned heated, your tongues dancing aggressively against each other, Lord Dimitrescu growling deeply with every muffled moan escaping your sweet lips. The hand on your thigh traveled up to push your dress out of his way, his thick fingers brushing against your swollen folds to make you jolt in your seat. You flinched away at the contact, your wet lips disconnecting from his sensual mouth when you shoved him away from you.

“I, I..” you stuttered out the words, snapping your legs closed to prevent him from touching you further. “I don’t…” You cast your eyes down, trying to explain yourself when a stony expression crossed his face. “It still hurts.”

Your response only had him raising an eyebrow, Lord Dimitrescu clearly not pleased with your reluctance to service him once more.

Suddenly, he grabbed you by the waist and lifted you off your chair. He sat you on top of the table, amused at your little shocked gasp before pushing his chair back to kneel before you. He brought his hands up to his neck to begin unbuttoning his shirt, showing off the broad expanse of his chest and muscled form as he pulled the fabric to the sides. You couldn’t look away from his body, your mind replaying the events of last night when you lay under him, screaming and moaning out in ecstasy as he took you over and over, uncaring of your sobs as he brought you to climax after climax. 

When he applied pressure on your knees, his large hands possessing the capability of breaking your bones, you knew what he wanted. 

“Open up for me, uibito.” His smooth voice tickled your ears. “Let me see what I’ve done to you.” 

“M-my Lord!” You put up your hands to stop him, “Don’t you think it’s too soon to… to-.” A shriek escaped you when he forced your legs open, the cool air stinging your inflamed vulva and making you shudder when you felt his cum dribble out of you in copious amounts. You tried to reason with him once more, desperate to hide your shame from his curious eyes. “What I mean to say is, I have not fully recovered from your affections, and I don’t think it’s a good idea that we–AH!”

He rubbed your engorged clit, shocking you enough to have you fall back on the table on your elbows. You tried to shove his hand away, tears of humiliation glistening your eyes when you felt his spend leak out of you to pool on the table cloth. You hated how you couldn’t control yourself, your hips grinding against his palm despite your protests. He rubbed none too gently at your stimulated nub, taking note of how your little breathless gasps indicated your body’s readiness to take him once more. With his other hand he tugged down his pants, the twitching organ responding to your pleasured moans as it sought out your tight pussy. You shook your head, twisting and turning your body when his cock rubbed along your ass. 

“You’re still of a mind to refuse me? My patience grows thin with you, draga mea.” Lining up his cock to your reddened folds, he began to push his way through, delighted at the sight of your pussy struggling to wrap around his sheer girth. “Shall I remind you what it means to be mine?”

💓 Thank you for reading!! 💓

Here is the art for my drabble ft my OC so enjoy~🫣🤭

For the full NSFW Art, select here --> (⁠●⁠♡⁠∀⁠♡⁠)