#Lumen Gauze

[burdenedreverence]

' i failed. i failed to save someone again. ' ( Lumen to Hayden )

It rained awfully today, most professions would decide to not work when such a downpour happened.

Professionals' soldiers did what was required of them, regardless of the terrain or weather. Thus, Hayden sat on remnants of a window which had been destroyed by an explosion. Between his lips was a half-burnt-out cigarette, ash slowly falling onto his pants leg. His eyes seemed distant yet attentive to Lumen. His clothing and body armor soaked by that rain, his hair clung to his face, runny face paint had faded from his skin.

It was a bad fight, a bloody fight.

His head tilts down to the body at Lumen's feet. A grizzly sight. The poor bastard's legs where missing below the knees, double tourniquets applied at the knees to having stopped the bleeding. Packing gauze thrown about the wound, their blouse torn open to expose their chest which had a needle on their chest, no doubt to relieve the tension pneumothorax.

Lumen tried, he tried his damnest to say that person. But they were gone. And there was nothing more he could do.

Hayden takes a drag of the cigarette, a slow exhale of smoke leaves his nostrils and mouth.

"You tried. Did all you could. That is enough, Lumen." It has to be enough, for people like them. To try, and to perhaps not succeed. "I reckon you a better man for having tried." His voice is soft-spoken and hoarse. His throat raw from the acrid taste of gunsmoke.

He turns behind him as he hears thunder in the distance, his eyes gaze at the destruction they have wrought to take this place. It's a scene from hell, burned into his memory. His hands flick the cigarette outside the window, towards the storm, and pushes off of it. The heavy sound of his equipment russles as he moves towards the stretcher, beginning to grasp at the straps.

"It's time to package them. You did not save them. But you can take them home."

Hayden wishes he could shed tears. He cannot. Not while there is work to be done.

Bloody work.

@starryskied

[yourmedicalfriend]

Central Venous Catheter Kit (CVC Kit Price)

CVC Kit is meticulously designed to provide healthcare professionals with everything needed for safe and efficient central venous access. This comprehensive kit includes a high-quality CVC catheter available in single, double, or triple lumen configurations, made from medical-grade materials to ensure durability and patient safety.

The sharp, beveled introducer needle allows for precise vein access, minimizing tissue trauma, while the flexible, kink-resistant guidewire ensures accurate CVC Kit catheter placement. Various sizes of dilators are included to gently enlarge the insertion site, facilitating smooth catheter insertion.

CVC Kit Price

A sterile, disposable scalpel enables precise incisions, and the included syringes and needles ensure thorough site preparation with anesthetic application and saline flush. Central Venous Catheter (CVC) Kit is meticulously designed to provide healthcare professionals with everything needed for safe and efficient central venous access.

Additionally, the kit comes with a sterile drape and gauze pads to maintain a clean field and manage blood during the procedure. Extension tubing and injection caps provide secure, flexible connections cvc kit price for reliable intravenous access, and a chlorhexidine swab ensures effective skin antisepsis, reducing the risk of infection. 

Key Components of CVC Kit:

CVC Catheter: Available in single, double, or triple lumen configurations, made from high-quality medical-grade materials for durability and patient safety.

Introducer Needle: Sharp, beveled needle for precise vein access, minimizing tissue trauma.

Guidewire: Flexible and kink-resistant, ensuring accurate catheter placement.

Dilators: Various sizes to gently enlarge the insertion site, facilitating smooth catheter insertion.

Scalpel: Sterile, disposable scalpel for making precise incisions.

Syringes and Needles: Includes syringes for anesthetic application and saline flush, ensuring thorough site preparation.

Drape and Gauze: Sterile drape and gauze pads to maintain a clean field and manage blood during the procedure.

Extension Tubing and Injection Caps: Provides secure and flexible connections for reliable intravenous access.

Chlorhexidine Swab: Effective antiseptic for skin preparation, reducing the risk of infection.

The CVC Kit is ideal for emergency medicine, ICU and surgery, and nephrology and dialysis, providing rapid venous access in critical care situations and long-term venous access for central venous catheter kit intensive monitoring and treatment. Each component is individually sterilized and packaged to ensure the highest hygiene standards and patient safety.

Applications of CVC Kit:

Emergency Medicine: Rapid venous access in critical care situations, enabling the administration of life-saving medications and fluids.

ICU and Surgery: Long-term venous access for patients requiring intensive monitoring and treatment, safe administration of medications, parenteral nutrition, and chemotherapy.

Nephrology and Dialysis: Reliable vascular access for hemodialysis and other renal replacement therapies.

Benefits of CVC Kit:

Safety and Sterility: Each component is individually sterilized and packaged to ensure the highest hygiene standards and patient safety.

Efficiency: All necessary tools are included in a single, organized kit, reducing preparation time and enhancing procedural efficiency.

Versatility: Suitable for various medical applications, from emergency care to routine hospital procedures.

Ease of Use: Designed for user comfort, facilitating ease of insertion, reducing complications, and improving patient outcomes.

Portable and Organized: Comes in a sturdy, compact carrying case for easy transport and storage, keeping instruments organized and protected.

This organized kit reduces preparation time and enhances procedural efficiency, making it suitable for various medical applications. The ergonomic design of the instruments facilitates ease of insertion, reduces complications, and improves patient outcomes.

CVC Catheter

The kit comes in a sturdy, compact carrying case for medical easy transport and storage, keeping instruments organized and protected. Overall, the Central Venous Catheter (CVC) Kit is a comprehensive, high-quality toolset designed to meet the needs of healthcare professionals across various medical fields, ensuring reliable central venous access and enhancing the overall quality of patient care.

Central Venous Catheter (CVC) Kit is a comprehensive, high-quality toolset designed to meet the needs of healthcare professionals across various medical fields. Its durable instruments and ergonomic design support accurate and effective catheter insertions, enhancing the overall quality of patient care. Whether for emergency situations or routine procedures, the CVC Kit is an invaluable resource for ensuring reliable central venous access.

[studentshaul]

Loss. He is no stranger to losing those closest to him. It's an innate, almost deep-seated fear lingered near the fringes of his mind. But there's a job to be done, despite how pale and shaken Lumen seems as he finishes bandaging up one patient --- before moving onto assess Hawk's injuries next.

" Geez. What happened? Did you run into trouble along the way?" The Aegir queries, voice thickened with concern. Jordi grabs the spare roll of bandages and gauze from the stand, his healing abilities kicking into overdrive as he attempts to calm himself down. She's alive, he repeats it over and over again in his head.

" Here. Let's get you patched up. "

Hawk lay there, bleeding. There was a large slash wound on her stomach and puncture wounds on her legs and arms. She looked really bad, like bad then normal.

"Heh...Doctor H-Handsome- fuck!" She hissed as she tried to get up but pain shot through her so she fell back on the makeshift hospital bed she was laying in.

"-Yeah got into a scuff with those Seaborn creatures. Dangerous as always.."

[magoschool]

Carry things that will make your day easier

Belt- Kore, Wilderness or Magpul

Flashlight- Streamlight Protac 1L

Multitool Big-Leatherman Skeletool

Multitool Small- Gerber Dime

Hemostatic Gauze- QuickClot or Celox

Bic Lighter (remove the 'child proof' donger and secure the plunger with a ranger band)

Knife

[rosesupposesmanythings]

Lumen graduated highschool at 16 whith a perfect GPA, finished her degree in two years and then refused to go any further. At 18 she took her belongings and moved to Bridgeport, to an impossibly expensive apartment that she somehow had the money to rent. As far as her family knows she runs an internet based financial services company...

Lumie met Lazulite the day after she hacked the secure server of her dad’s cigarette company. Lazulite planned to steal back the information and teach a lesson but instead lost her heart to the feisty redheaded thief.

They still live in Bridgeport and at least two government agencies would like to have a chat with them... if only they had any proof.

Thank you to @getinloserweregoingsimming for Lazulite, they make a lovely couple and have so far not procreated except for one dog and a lot of money!

[luminous-letters]

Henlo Lumen. Can I request Sebek with a fem! reader who's an expert in medical works especially in giving first aid. They're the most gentle person out there when giving first aid or any medical help to other people but they're reckless when it comes to themselves (I'm a child of a doctor and the amount of scars I have on my legs from tripping throughout my childhood is... a bit interesting)

man, anon, i feel u 😭

"It hurts...!"

"Not so tough now?"

Sebek was hissing nonstop as you applied ointment to his blistered arms— the result of an uncontrolled fire blast with a damaged pen.

It hadn't been a while since you took your new role as Sebek's personal nurse, much go his chagrin if you may add, you felt as if you hurt his pride with your frequent scolding.

What started off as a few bruises and cuts now escalated to something like this— burns and sometimes even broken bones. You weren't a miracle worker nor are you capable of healing him with magic, so you had to make do with what you had and would send him off to get treatment after first aid.

Before your unwarranted 'transfer' to NRC, you helped out at the nurse's office for some time. So you could say you were adept with the practice.

"Please don't overwork yourself this time. It might get worse, I already asked Lilia to let you off for a while until you heal."

"YOU WHAT?" Sebek boomed, startling you, causing the assortment of bandages and alcohol to come crashing down the floor.

"At least try to be a bit more gentle."

"NO! First of all, how bold of you to underestimate my healing capabilities. And second of all, how dare you make me look so useless! And to Master Lilia of all people?!" He huffed, crossing his arms with a wince. "I've been through many trials and have braved all of them! So this is nothing to me."

You sighed, realizing that your words won't be able to get through him. "Just rest a bit, at least," you turned to face him, before busying yourself with cleaning up.

He handed you a stray box of band-aids, "I don't need it," he looked at you dead in the eye. He stood up proud, and marched back out as if he wasn't hissing in pain just a few minutes ago.

Dumb and obnoxious. That was Sebek at that moment, and prideful and so infuriatingly ignorant. He was many things, sure, but those were what you felt he was right then.

"I just hope that he'll take my advice this time..."

The next morning, just as the darks of the night before faded into the fresh golden glow of sunrise, just when dew rested upon the blades of grass that littered your lawn, Sebek came knocking on the shabby oaken door.

"On it," you yawned, rubbing the sleep off your eyes.

He was standing on the porch, his hair down, and wearing a light green t-shirt and a pair of camouflage shorts. Not necessarily the best choice of clothes, but it fit his pallet— green, green and more green.

"I assume Malleus told you to take a break?"

"...Yes... We're both excused from classes today. And I was told to come here and... And spend some time here until I've healed..." the last sentence became hushed.

"Come in, I need to change those," you pointed at the thickly wrapped gauze around his arms.

You made sure to thoroughly clean it first, lathering it up with antibacterial soap, then another gentle application of burn ointments, and finally finishing it with another handsome wrapping of fresh bandages.

"It looks better than yesterday. Did you use magic?"

"No, I just heal fast. I would've recovered much faster if only..."

You were satisfied with your work, confident that it would hold until the next time you had to change it. Sebek, meanwhile, was pouting and complaining the whole time.

"I rented an album from that artist you like on the way here," he handed you a C.D. case. The black and white cover's notable features were the repeating texts to make it look like news articles.

"Rep?"

"I honestly have no idea," he shrugged.

It was a good thing that Deuce was kind enough to lend you his player last Thursday. You had to get it back to him sometime soon.

"We can rest here until class ends," you popped the disc into the player, waiting a few seconds before the first song was queued.

"...Are you ready for it?"

Some time passed by.

"And all at once you are the one I have been waiting for— King of my heart, body and soul. And all at once you are the one, I'll never let you go— King of my heart, body and soul."

By the time the last song came to an end, you were lightly dozing off on Sebek's chest, deaf to the annoyed grumbles of the freshman.

"Get off me."

"You know I can't push you off."

"Come on."

"If you can't beat them, join them, I guess," you felt him relax, and it wasn't long before his head rested above yours.

[antpernas]

10/31/21

Sitting at my desk and having what might possibly turn out to be the worst day of my life!

Long story short, I had/have fucking bugs all over my body and went to the ER in a state of unease (if not just straight panic) to of course get taken care of. While I'm waiting, I do as much research as I can and come to the conclusion that they are crabs (pubic lice). My doctor said she thinks it's mites. Honestly, I don't care. They end up plucking out as many as they could find, prescribing me some antibiotics and permethrin cream, and sending me on my way. Today was spent triple washing clothes, replacing mattresses and bedding, and Nairing all my body hair off. This is where the story takes a nose dive.

I was already averse to the idea of removing my body hair in the first place, considering how fond I am of it. The fact that the only feasible way to do it was by using Nair only compounded to my distaste for the idea. But I figured it's better to be safe than sorry, and if removing the hair minimizes the chances of these things persisting, then I'll do it.

So the first pass of Nair went well enough. It took an entire bottle, but I Naired my thighs, and my pubic region. Very unsettling, dysphoric experience to watch my hair literally shrivel and burn off, and the smell was fucking disgusting. And the end result is equally, if not more, unpleasant; I look like a fucking rat. Thankfully, though, no burns, and now the lice don't have anywhere to place eggs, so I'll just breathe deeply and remind myself to get through this.

That's when I ran errands; getting a new mattress, cleaning my room, doing laundry, etc. All the while, I was just trying to calm myself down, and just remind myself this is another obstacle in life unlike any other, and that it will pass.

Unfortunately, but unsurprisingly, I found more lice in other parts of my body after I looked in the mirror again. Two in my chest, a couple down on my thighs. Two on my literal penis. And as I was taking off my underwear, one was crawling around on them in the region touching the back of my left thigh; lo and behold, I missed a patch of hair there. Originally, I thought I could get away with just nairing the portion I had, but this made me realize that I should just get all of my hair to be safe. Cue trauma.

I apply the second bottle to my calves, my chest, the back of my thigh and... my balls. Well aware of the potential consequences, I again rationalized this decision by weighing the pain of scrotal caustic burns against the persistence of these fucking bugs. In error, I chose the former.

Cue a lot of burning. I sit through it for the instructed three minutes. I rinse, attempt to wipe; cue more burning. I now sit in horror, basking at my glowing red ball sack that is now contending against the sun for total lumen output. I sit in the shower compressing my balls with a hand towel, rinsing it off every few minutes, for about 45 minutes. Luckily, between each rinse, I could see all the eggs attached to my hairs being removed, so at least this was not in vain. However, this is not to say it necessarily was worthwhile.

The next two hours of my life were dedicated to aftercare. However, perhaps it might be more accurate to call this "judgement" or "karma," since the already excruciatingly painful burning sensation was only infinitely exacerbated by any attempt to alleviate it. Recalling a proverb I'd heard recently from a video of a Shaolin monk answering commonly searched Google questions-- "You do not get over pain. You only come to accept it."-- I realized that there was no way around this, only through.

Thus, I resigned to simply ensuring the least possible harm develops from this decision. Cue more burning at the hands of; disinfection via rubbing alcohol (which I will have to repeat again various times over the course of healing, I fear), wound dressing (Neosporin and gauze, as well as pressure applied from tape to keep the dressings in place), and redressing (as the wound goes healing, it dries against the gauze, essentially leaving me to wax my raw scrotum everytime I redress it). Topical pain medications are really only effective for a few minutes before pulsations of intense burning begin again.

So now, I sit awake at 4:44 AM, after hours of attempting to fall asleep to no avail. I'm trying my best to remind myself that this decision was the safest option to make to ensure that the infestation is truly remove. But the sudden occurrence of lava enveloping my scrotum every five seconds is seriously making me consider whether or not those lice were even that bad. They are pretty cute, admittedly.

But anyway. That was my Halloween. Hope yours all went well.

[serenavangstuff]

Juniper publishers-A Long-Term Care Hospital-Based, Novel, Cost-Effective Strategy to Reduce Central Line Associated Blood Stream Infections

Abstract

An innovative nurse-led initiative of central venous catheter (CVC) dressing maintenance in long-term acute care (LTAC) setting significantly reduced the organizational incidence of central line associated bloodstream infections (CLABSI). The initiative included limiting scheduled CVC dressing changes to a trained staff nurse dedicated to that task. The project demonstrated that the initiative reduced patient harm by eliminating CLABSI in LTAC patients and was cost effective.

Keywords: Central line associated blood stream infections; Long-term acute care; LTAC; CLABSI; Line maintenance

Abbreviations: LTAC: Long-Term Acute Care Hospitals; LTCH: Long-Term Care Hospitals; CVCs: Central Venous Catheters; CLABSI: Central Line Associated Bloodstream Infections; LOS: Length Of Stay; PICC : Peripherally Inserted Central Venous Catheters; CDC: Center for Diseases Control; NHSN: National Health Safety Network; DU: Device Utilization; CMI: Case Mix Index

Introduction

Long-term acute care hospitals (LTAC) serve clinically complex patients requiring extended medical and rehabilitative care [1]. LTAC hospitals also referred to as long-term care hospitals (LTCH), have patients with Central Venous Catheters (CVCs) akin to acute care patients for either long-term antibiotics or other chronic intravenous medications [2]. Therefore, they are at risk for Central Line Associated Bloodstream Infections (CLABSI) resulting in significantly increased mortality, mean Length Of Stay (LOS), readmissions to acute care hospitals and mean attributable costs [3,4]. Maintenance of CVCs is ever more important in LTAC due to prolonged need for CVC to administer long term intravenous medications. However, literature is scarce in studies focusing on prevention of CLABSI in LTAC population [5-8].

Use of dedicated specialized intravenous teams has been successful in some acute care hospitals but may not be feasible or cost effective in smaller settings such as LTAC hospitals [9].9 While dressing changes are an important aspect of CVC maintenance, there are variations in technique among nurses with a potential lapse in maintenance of sterility during dressing changes [10,11]. We sought to find a feasible and cost-effective intervention customizable to LTAC hospitals that achieves desirable patient safety outcome by limiting scheduled dressing changes to dedicated personnel thereby limiting the variation in technique. To our knowledge, this is the first study to have evaluated the effect of limiting scheduled dressing changes to trained personnel other than specialized IV teams dedicated to that task in the LTAC hospitals. This is also the first study to evaluate the effect of dedicating a trained staff nurse other than specialized IV team nurses for dressing changes on CLABSI incidence in any clinical setting.

Methods

Clinical Setting and Study Design

This study performed a retrospective data analysis in an 82-bed LTAC hospital using before-and-after comparisons. Institutional Review Board has deemed this study a non-human subjects research.

Study Period

The baseline period was July 2014 to September 2015. Intervention period was January 2016 to September 2016. Transition period was October 2015 to December 2015 (when we rolled out the intervention).

Study Participants

All LTAC patients with a central catheter in place during the study period were included in the study.

Protocols During Baseline Period

Trained physicians inserted single, double or triple lumen CVCs, which are coated with chlorhexidine/silver sulfadiazine. Vascular access nurses placed peripherally inserted central venous catheters (PICC). All central catheter insertions used maximum sterile barrier precautions. LTAC used TegadermTM chlorhexidine gluconate dressings. Staff nurses routinely changed dressings once a week or when dressings are not occlusive, intact or dry with the exception of gauze dressings that were uncommonly used for oozing sites and were routinely changed every 48 hours. Nurses scrubbed the hub prior to any line access per CDC guidelines.9 Physicians discontinued the central lines when no longer needed. All staff nurses received catheter maintenance training at their new hire orientation and on skills days that occurred on a yearly basis.

Intervention

All baseline period protocols were also followed during intervention period. The nurse educator trained one staff nurse on dressing change technique for this intervention. The staff nurse (intervention nurse) changed dressings on a weekly basis. All staff nurses continued to be trained at their new hire orientation and on skills days. When an impromptu change was needed because of a soiled or non-occlusive dressing, the bedside nurse changed the dressing.

Outcome Measures

We used Center for Diseases Control (CDC)/National Health Safety Network (NHSN) definitions for CLABSI surveillance [3]. Outcome measures were CLABSI incidence rate per 1000 central line days  and device utilization ratio. Device utilization (DU) was calculated as a ratio of device days (central line days) to patient days. The case mix index (CMI) is an economic surrogate marker used to describe the average morbidity of patients in hospitals [12]. We compared the CMI during the baseline period and intervention period to evaluate if there was a change in morbidity in the LTAC patient population during the two periods that might otherwise explain the changes in CLABSI incidence and DU.

Cost Estimates

CLABSI Costs: Costs for CLABSIs were obtained from previous research in LTAC hospital residents [4]. A mean attributable cost of $43,208 for a single CLABSI was used for cost analysis.

RN Wages/Benefits: We obtained data on RN wages from the Bureau of Labor and Statistics FY 2016. Since these wages are without benefits, we conducted additional analyses using a benefit estimate of 25.6% from previously published literature [13].

Statistical Analysis: Statistical analyses were performed using R version 3.3.0.28. We used two-tailed t-tests to examine the difference in mean (± standard deviation) CLABSI rate, DU ratio and CMI between baseline and intervention groups. Statistical significance was determined at a P value of 0.05.

Results

We evaluated a total of 21,770 central line days and 35,732 patient days during the entire study period.

CLABSI Incidence Rate, Catheter Utilization and Case Mix Index

As shown in Table 1, mean CLABSI rate significantly decreased from 0.87 ± 1.2 per 1000 central line days in baseline period to 0.11 ± 0.34 per 1000 central line days (P = 0.034) in intervention period. Device (catheter) utilization ratio also decreased from 0.69 in baseline period to 0.52 in intervention period (P = 0.003) (Figure 1). There was no statistically significant difference in CMI in intervention period (1.17 ± 0.03) compared to baseline period (1.14 ± 0.06) (P = 0.21) (Table 1).

*Significant at P<0.05

SD = Standard Deviation

CLABSI Attributed Costs

Using the mean attributable cost for CLABSI ($43,208 per case) published in 2014 and methods previously used, we calculated the cost avoidance achieved by the intervention during the study period [13-15]. There were 15 CLABSI in baseline period of 15 months and there was one CLABSI in the intervention period. The expected number for intervention period was projected as seven CLABSI cases applying the rate from baseline period and actual central line days in intervention period. Therefore, we calculated that the number of CLABSI avoided over the intervention period as six cases with an avoided cost of $259,248. Based on data from Bureau of Labor Statistics and previously published studies, we calculated the cost of RN time involved during the intervention period as $41.33 per hour including the base wage and benefits. Calculating for 8 hours a week for the 9-month intervention period, the cost of RN time devoted to the intervention was $11,903. Therefore, we calculated the cost savings as $247,345 (Table 2).

Limitations

This study was conducted in a single LTAC hospital but we believe our findings are generalizable since our hospital is similar to most LTAC hospitals in the country. The intervention nurse did not perform impromptu dressing changes (unscheduled, as needed) and had to rely on staff nurses for those. Even though we do not have data on how many impromptu dressing changes were performed, the significant decrease in CLABSI rate during the intervention period indicates that the collective intervention was effective. The training of nursing staff has not changed between baseline and intervention periods. However, it is possible that there was increased awareness among educators (trainers) during the intervention period and that could have affected nursing performance which we are not able to measure.However, one could argue that this effect, if it occurred, was desirable though unintended. Simultaneous decrease in DUR may also have played a role in reduced CLABSI. However, we believe this decrease was also the result of increased awareness due to this intervention. We did not assess patient level data such as age and length of stay. However, we showed that there was no difference in CMI between the baseline and intervention periods.

Discussion

Literature addressing CLABSI reduction with strategies specifically applicable to LTAC hospitals is scarce. Attention to dressing maintenance is even more important in LTAC hospital setting where patients have long stays with CVC in place for prolonged durations. However, ensuring adherence can be a challenge especially with increasing patient care demands on nursing. Utilization of intravenous therapy teams dedicated to dressing maintenance has been described in acute care literature [11,16,17]. We created and validated an effective strategy that specifically addressed the challenge of limiting variability in dressing maintenance in LTAC hospitals while avoiding the burden of increased costs related to specialized IV care teams which is neither feasible nor practical in these settings.

Our study has shown that limiting scheduled dressing changes to trained staff nurse/s dedicated to that task is associated with decreased CLABSI incidence in LTAC setting. Even though our CLABSI rate during baseline period was low, we had opportunity to improve our CLABSI rate even further with this intervention. This thought process is consistent with the culture of safety which asserts that one preventable complication is one too many. We could show a clear decrease in our CLABSI incidence to near-zero in intervention period. No other processes have changed between baseline period and intervention period. It is interesting that the device utilization ratio has also decreased during the intervention period despite not having any other simultaneous intervention to reduce device utilization. We believe this was due to an increased awareness towards CLABSI prevention due to mere introduction of the study intervention.

Hiring or allotting FTE to dedicated tasks such as this may be considered a hindrance from the standpoint of cost. However, we showed that having dedicated staff for central line dressing changes is very cost effective with avoided cost of CLABSI being much higher than the RN time required to perform the intervention. A detailed business plan explaining the cost effectiveness of this approach to hospital administration may be effective in getting the needed support for such an intervention. This approach could be an alternative to having a dedicated IV team for central line maintenance when having such a team is not feasible either due to financial constraints or due to small size of the healthcare setting.

Our study has much strength. First, to our knowledge, this is the only study to have assessed the strategy of dedicating a trained staff nurse that is not part of intravenous therapy team for CVC dressing maintenance especially in LTAC hospital setting. Second, we were able to demonstrate that this approach is feasible and cost-effective. Third, this simple intervention can be easily adapted at any LTAC hospital.

Conclusions

In conclusion, we demonstrated the feasibility and cost- effectiveness of limiting scheduled CVC dressing changes to trained staff nurse/s dedicated to that task in LTAC hospital setting. We showed that this approach was successful in reducing CLABSI to near-zero. This strategy should be considered in LTAC settings to reduce CLABSI.

To read more articles in Journal of Gerontology & Geriatric Medicine

Please Click on: https://juniperpublishers.com/oajggm/index.php

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Click on: https://juniperpublishers.com/journals.php

[thecoroutfitters]

Written by Guest Contributor on The Prepper Journal.

Editors Note: A guest submission from Cellcounter about a different disaster you may have to factor into your prepper planning!. As always, if you have information for Preppers that you would like to share and possibly receive a $25 cash award, as well as being entered into the Prepper Writing Contest AND have a chance to win one of three Amazon Gift Cards  with the top prize being a $300 card to purchase your own prepping supplies, then enter today!

One of the challenges of being a dedicated prepper is that is almost impossible to cover all contingencies. No matter how well you plan, prepare and stock up, you can always have situations arise that you did not prepare for or count on.

For me, one of my almost daily challenges, involves travel. I fly over 200,000 miles domestically every year. This can keep me on the road and in the air almost five days a week. Not the best “Bug Out” scenario, huh?

Over the past three years I have developed a travel friendly, TSA compliant, carry on, bug out bag.

 vs    

First, let me say a few words about what you carry. Do not try to carry credit card knives, ceramic knives, or any type of knife device intended to be covert. TSA will find it and you will be arrested. I have witnessed this with my own eyes on several occasions.

     I am going to list each item and explain how it fits into the travel bug out bag scenario. Each item will have a “problem” rating. A number will appear in parenthesis ahead of each item indicating how many times I have been stopped because of the item. If I have never been stopped because of the item, “NI” will appear indicating NO ISSUES.

First, EDC (Everyday carry) items. These items should be in your pockets when you approach the TSA checkpoint. You will be required to place these items into a TSA “dog dish” for pass thru in the scanner. Any keys, metal coins, cell phones, etc. must go into the dish as well.

(1) Tactical 300 lumen flashlight – I have been stopped only once with this flashlight and TSA only wanted me to unscrew the lid to the battery compartment so they could view the battery

(NI) Standard “Bic” type lighter – Yes, believe it or not, you are allowed to carry a standard lighter with you. You cannot have any torch type or jet type lighter. These will be confiscated by TSA

(1) Metal tactical ink pen – These pens are available in many shapes and sizes. Stick with the smaller size and make sure you can demonstrate that it writes if stopped and questioned about it (only questioned once)

(NI) Paracord bracelet – This a handy item for many situations and has never been an issue.

(NI) Large metal coin – A large metal coin can be used as a flat-head screwdriver, can be heated to seal wounds or as a hand warmer when placed in between two pieces of cloth. I have a large NRA coin that I have carried for six years. Challenge coins are great as well.

On to the bug out bag itself. I use the Travelon Packable Multi Pocket Back Pack. I do not unfold it, but leave it in its compact size. Unfolded it expands to 19” x 12.5” x 6”. I place it in my computer bag or shoulder messenger bag. Leaving it in its compact form, I still can put the following items in it:

(NI) Eton Scorpion AM/FM/NOAA Emergency Radio – This is one of the most compact radio units out there. It has both solar charging and crank operations. It has an LED flashlight built in and a tough rubberized case and is waterproof. A top-mounted carabiner will allow you to attach it to most anything.

(NI) Mylar space blanket – These have multiple uses and have never been an issue through security.

(NI) Generic Whistle/Compass/Signal Mirror Match Holder – You have seen these dorky things on every survival site on the web. They normally come with matches and a lanyard. REMOVE the matches. Bad day otherwise.

(NI) Lifeline First Aid Kit – This is a small, compact kit containing the normal assortment of bandages, gauze, etc. NOTE: Remove the alcohol wipes and moist towelettes from the kit and place them in your quart-size, 3 oz or less TSA bag.

(NI) Hotel size bar soap – Never an issue

(NI) Small sewing kit – Small variety of needles, safety pins, buttons and thread.

(NI) Eton Blackout Buddy H2O – This a small flashlight device that is activated by adding a few drops of water to a sealed compartment on the device. Last up to 12 hours.

(NI) Collapsible shopping bag – These fold up to about 2” X 2”. Great for stashing foraged supplies.

(NI) Hiking socks (2 pair) – If TSHTF, you will probably be doing a lot of walking.

(2) LifeStraw water filters – This is perfect for travel and will outlast your journey. I have been stopped twice with this item. Once I explained what it was, no problem.

Remember, you are already carrying a lot of useful items as part of your regular travel packing.

Spare clothing

Paper – Notebook paper makes great kindling

Pens, sharpies

Toiletries – toothbrush, toothpaste, shampoo, body wash, etc.

What scenarios would necessitate needing these preps?

Well, hopefully you are on the ground if an EMP event happens. If you are lucky enough not to be plunging out of the sky, the items you have with you would allow you to start a trek on foot towards home, a safer situation, etc. If you have any experience in prepping for survival, you will be scavenging and foraging as you go.

   Economic collapse/civil unrest. When the economy goes, it will go quickly. The day the government handout checks will not cash, the country will plunge into anarchy. Angry entitlement recipients will begin looting, plundering and attacking anyone they see as privileged. Other than the tactical pen, the TSA has rendered you weaponless, so your skill set needs to include defensive techniques, etc.

Earthquake/natural disaster. Least likely if you travel domestically as I do but if it did happen, the LifeStraw could be the difference in life or death. Utilities are the first thing to shut down is these situations.

This is by no means and exhaustive list, this is just what I personally carry through trial and error with the TSA. Remember, the TSA has a horrible job. They have to deal with thousands of disgruntled flyers, flyers ignorant of the regulations, and defiant or drunk flyers as well. Your best chance to go through a TSA checkpoint unscathed is to be polite and treat them like humans. Most days, they do not want to be there any more than you do. Happy Trails and be safe out there.

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from The Prepper Journal Don't forget to visit the store and pick up some gear at The COR Outfitters. How prepared are you for emergencies? #SurvivalFirestarter #SurvivalBugOutBackpack #PrepperSurvivalPack #SHTFGear #SHTFBag

[nyotasaimiri]

Lumen’s Workbench

This is more for my own use so I don’t misplace it, but here’s a general text wall of stuff from Lumen’s workbench and apothecary cabinet. Caution: contains headcanon, rambling, and mention of needles. 

Medkits—Lumen keeps an individual kit for each member of the crew (carefully labeled so he doesn’t forget whose is whose). His field kit is composed of the necessities for whoever’s coming along. The basics are the same for everyone: bandages, nanowrap, several antitoxins for common poisons, numbing salves, burn cream, stimpacks, a vial of healing water, basically anything to keep them alive long enough for proper treatment. Everyone has a few customizations, like allergy medicine for Hadley, extra pain meds for Nyota, and low-strength static cells for both Novakids (a weak current can kickstart sealing up tears, especially useful when they’re low on energy).

Salves—Produced from assorted xenoflora, these have a variety of uses, best used for cuts, bruises, and light burns. Lumen favors an all-purpose recipe with a numbing effect, though he does make specialty creams and ointments for specific dangers like allergy rashes or acid burns. Nyota taught him a variety that’s particularly good for soreness or stiff joints. Some gel variants are actually useful for Novakid, reacting with the plasma membrane and encouraging localized repair for the thinning caused by burns, cuts that are mending too slow, or splintery, thick bruises.

Bandages—Part of his standard field kit as the go-to for injured Novakid, typically combined with salves. For non-Novas, Lumen favors gauze or cotton. Novakid would incinerate standard bandaging with venting plasma, so he keeps a decent supply of thick, fireproof cloth, with nanowrap serving for emergencies. Nanowrap in particular is useful, as the living root extract in it can impart the root’s regenerative properties, encouraging the patient to heal even from severe injury. Lumen has successfully reattached someone’s fingers with it before. Do not doubt the nanowrap.

Needle and Thread—Sometimes you just don’t have enough nanowrap… Lumen keeps two sets in his kit, one for medical purposes and one for more mundane clothing repairs. He’s not great at sewing cloth, but very good with people…

Patch—A little home-remedy of sorts, Patch is Lumen’s name for a clear acrylic-gel compound he discovered pretty much by accident. Applied over a damaged brand, it works almost like glue or a splint, quickly hardening in the heat of the Novakid’s body (external heat sources can be used in cases where patient is dangerously cool). Used correctly, it prevents cracks from worsening until the brand’s shell can self-repair, though the patient’s senses are muffled until it naturally flakes off. If Lumen knows the basic composition of the Novakid’s brand, he can mix in a bit of the component metal to encourage quicker mending, but this is rather risky with more volatile metals.

Healing Water—Rare and precious to healers, legend holds that healing springs cropped up in places where stars fell long ago. Lumen isn’t sure what he thinks of that idea, but after hearing Esther’s story about the Cultivator, he’s started wondering if Their energy, pure life and creative potential, formed the healing springs. It’s a bit of a misnomer—healing water doesn’t directly heal. It strengthens the drinker’s life force and vitality, keeping them alive through all but the most catastrophic of wounds. The surge of vitality also greatly enhances self-healing for a short time. It’s almost impossible to dilute, and also impossible to artificially replicate.

Red stimpack—Originally developed by the Ministry of Scientific Progression, though they’ve since been adapted for use by non-Apex. Essentially raw living root extract with only a slight dilution, red stims force the body to heal and regenerate, but draw heavily on what energy reserves the user may have left, often leading to loss of consciousness for whole days. Most of them turn off pain receptors—rebuilding nerves, skin, and muscle at many times the normal speed is remarkably painful otherwise. Do not use in cases of poisonings; they can react fatally with most organic toxins, encouraging regeneration in the toxin as well as the subject. Avoid overuse—the exhaustion can also kill. Can be safely used alongside healing water if it’s available.

Lumen’s mystery bottles—The green ones contain high-energy fuel, an emergency pick-me-up for a badly injured Novakid so they don’t die from energy loss. After Nyota saved his life in the snow, he added a few vials of cryonic extract. The blue ones have homemade painkillers in a highly diluted alcohol solution (he finds the familiar taste and smell tends to relax people a bit). None are obviously labeled until you pick one up—he etches very fine symbols on the surface. Clear is miscellaneous. He usually has plain water, possibly healing water, and disinfectants in those. Do not drink from the brown glass bottles. Those are explosive.

[thepathsofdestiny]

Trail of Embers, Ch. 4 - Eyes in the Dark

~*~ Glory, Marta, and David have had a long week. As they head out onto the road and put Halcyon City behind them, the trio takes a moment a breathe, rest, and (re)discover each other- three wandering souls, out in the wild. Read it on AO3 here.  ~*~ Marta dreams. She is sitting on a cliff, gazing out at the sea. Her legs dangle over the ledge and she kicks them, like a child. Her mother is with her, a smudged blur in her peripheral vision, robed in midnight blue- a memory from too long ago, coalescing from fog. She stands, and finds herself in a copse of trees- smoothly, seamlessly, as is the flow of dreams. There is a man sitting cross-legged on the grass before her. His head was a stag’s skull, crowned with antlers, lit from within by a gentle sapphire light. Vines spill out the back of his skull and lie draped across his shoulders, his arms, in a semblance of long hair. He smells like the land; of honeysuckle and tilled soil. Thunder rumbles in the distance. Marta lifts her head, sees the glint of red and gold, tastes the tang of smoke in the air. He is coming. The stag-headed man fixes Marta with his empty gaze, blue fire in an antlered skull. His voice comes out like gravel, like crumbling stone. Do not let him in. ~*~ 

Marta woke with a soft gasp, her cheek resting on smooth fabric. She instinctively nuzzled the cloth before she caught a flash of black and red and remembered where she was. She snapped awake, jerking back and banging her head on the low ceiling of David’s sedan. She mewled in pain, the beginnings of a blush coloring her cheeks. “I am… so… sorry,” Marta eked out, wincing. Glory stared at her, her dark eyes rimmed with red. Unnerving as Glory’s piercing, unblinking gaze was, there was a hint of mirth buried beneath the ice. Glory’s smiles rarely made it all the way to her lips, but they always started in her eyes. “It’s okay,” Glory said. “How did you sleep?” “Okay,” Marta shrugged. “Weird dreams. You?” “I didn’t sleep,” Glory said flatly. “And I don’t dream.” “Oh.” Marta looked past Glory and out her window. They were at a fueling station, framed by trees, fog, and a cloudy sky, with the dim yellow lights of a mini-mart only barely cutting through the gloom. “Come on,” Glory said, tipping her head towards the window. “I was just going to ask if you wanted anything.” ~*~ “Good lord, David, you’re still driving that hunk of junk? It’s so old it still runs on gas.” “Yeah, and you still sell it, so what does that say about you?” The shopkeeper grinned. He was an older man, in a denim vest over a white T-shirt, with a gray beard and a trucker’s cap. Steve Wilk, owner of Wilk’s Fuel Station and Auto Shop (and Mini-Mart), the last little island of civilization before trees and fog took over. “You going on some kinda trip?” Wilk asked, amused, as he scanned and bagged a veritable mountain of protein bars, energy drinks, string cheese and soy jerky. “It’s for a job,” David explained, a growing number of shopping bags hanging from his arms. “I’m going to be out of the city for awhile.” Glory appeared, silent and inscrutable. She dropped another pile of goods on the counter just as Wilk had finished bagging the first- aspirin, rolls of gauze, bottles of quick-sealing trauma spray. Marta followed behind, adding a number of boxes to the pile- tampons, teabags, chemical hand warmers. She glanced up at David. “...I get cold,” Marta said, sheepish. David reached into the pile and picked up a bottle of trauma spray. “‘For the instant sealing of open wounds’,” David read. “‘Like stitches in a bottle.’ ...Y’know, don’t all three of us have some form of healing magic?” “Say you’ve just received a traumatic, painful, bloody wound,” Glory said, tone flat as always. “What would be easier: concentrating on a healing spell, or shaking a spray can and pressing a button?” “Point,” David admitted. Wilk stared at the trio. “Just what kind of trouble do y’all think you’re gonna run into?” “Bears,” Glory said, deadpan. She took an armful of shopping bags and left, Marta following close behind. Wilk watched them go, shaking his head. “There’s an interesting girl,” Wilk muttered. “She’s my boss,” David cut in. “And she’s paying for all this, so-” “Easy, boy. Meant no offense.” David mumbled a non-response, handing over his credstick. Wilk scanned it and handed it back, along with the rest of the crew’s supplies. “Did you hear about the fire?” Wilk asked. David hesitated. “Which one?” “South side. Took out a church, a homeless shelter…” David’s expression darkened. “Yeah. That was a shame.” “There was another one, up at the docks. Some chemical fire. But this one, they’re saying, this one was the gangs. Bunch of thugs bombed the place. Can you believe that?” Shadows flashed across David’s eyelids. The Branded. The mob. The sorceress. The fight in a burning church. The daemon seizing his skin, fighting him for control. David sucked in a breath. “I really can’t,” he muttered. “Nasty. Nasty stuff. It’s shit like this that makes me want to get out of this city, myself.” Wilk smiled. “...Can’t, though.” “Why’s that?” “Come on, kid. I can’t skip town. I gotta wait for everyone else to do it, so I can fuel ‘em up on their way out. You think I’d miss out on all that business? I’d make a fortune.” David chuckled. Grinned. “It was nice seeing you, Mr. Wilk. I gotta go. Say hi to the dogs for me, would you?” “When was the last time you saw ‘em, huh? They’re gettin’ big. Real big. They’ve been dying to see you again.” Mr. Wilk reached out and gave David’s hand a firm shake. “You take care on your little road trip, son.” “Thanks, Mr. Wilk.” “Oh, and David?” Wilk called, with David halfway out the door. “The next time you want to buy me out of jerky and string cheese, you call ahead, first!” ~*~ Scarcely an hour out of Halcyon City, and already the urban sprawl gives way to one-lane roads, thick woods and log cabins. The sky remained gray and gloomy, and fog seemed to follow them wherever they went. It was as if the Nameless Queen’s ghost had risen from the burning ruin of her church, and had come to haunt their steps. Everywhere they looked, it was gray, gray, gray. It was gray in the misted woods closing in around them, and it was just as gray in the shifting shadows of astral space, where David now lurked. In astral space, the light of life blazes like stars. But as David scanned the lodge, he saw only the faintest traces of memory, echoes of its previous inhabitants, glimmering like moonlight through the trees. David blinked, and the faint glow of astral space receded back into the darkness of reality. He eased open the door, pistol drawn. He crouched in the shadows, reaching up to key in his comm. “All clear,” he whispered. The lights came on, and David practically jumped out of his skin- only to feel Glory’s hands on his shoulders in an act of questionable reassurance. “You’re okay,” Glory said tonelessly. Marta stood behind, smiling sheepishly beside the light switch. David exhaled, holstering his pistol. This lodge wasn’t quite like the one David was working at four days ago, when Glory charged in, killed all his coworkers, and only spared him because, he was forced to assume, he asked nicely. That lodge had two storeys, couches, and bedrooms on the second floor. This place, meanwhile, could charitably be called a lodge, when in reality it was more of a ‘shack’. That being said, it was still roomier than David’s car, so nobody was really complaining. “Nice place,” Marta said, glancing up at the lumen strips incongruously set into the walls. “Electric lighting kinda ruins the look, but- Oh! A fireplace!” “Let’s start a fire, then,” Glory said. “I don’t want anyone coming by and wondering why the lights are on in the middle of spring, with hunting season months away. Do we have any firewood?” David poked his head out the back door. “Hopper’s empty.” “I’ll go find some, then,” Glory said. “Do you have a hatchet?” Marta asked. Glory extended her hand razors with a click of metal. “I’ll manage.” She waggled her clawed fingers at Marta, a playful smile in her eyes, before stepping out. “Keeping the lights off is one thing,” David said, “but what about the car?” “I can take care of that,” Marta offered. “Come on. I’ll show you something cool.” Outside, David shut the trunk with a thud, slinging his rifle over his shoulder and stepping back. “Okay,” Marta said, cracking her fingers. “Watch this.” David watched, fascinated, as the tips of Marta’s hair began to shine like hot coals. Traceries of blue light flowed down her arms and gathered at her fingertips in a coruscating cloud of energy. Marta blew a kiss across her palm. The spell dusted across her hands and coiled around the car like wisps of smoke. David’s vision shifted and blurred, like heat haze, and just like that, his car had vanished. David reached out, groping for his car in the seemingly empty air. He could feel it beneath his touch, and could hear himself tapping on the roof. He blinked and slipped into astral space. There he could see it, tinged with the lingering traces of their auras- Marta’s in blue, David’s own in gold, with a shadow where Glory’s should have been- but to his eyes in realspace, his car was as good as gone. David whistled, impressed. “Whoa,” he breathed. Marta beamed. “It’s- It’s, y’know, not perfect. The illusion only works if it’s not moving, so no taking it with us on the go. We can run or hide, not both.” “Still. That’s a hell of a trick,” David said. He looked up at Marta, suddenly sheepish. “But, uh. You can make it visible again, right? All our food’s still in the trunk, and uh… I can’t see where to put the key.” ~*~ Glory returned from her firewood-hunt soon after with an apology and an armful of moist wood. (“It rained last night, remember?”) Fortunately, Marta then used her magic to draw the water out of the wood, making them properly dry and oh-so-flammable, and a spark from Glory snapping her mechanical fingers took care of the rest. Their little fire crackled in the hearth, borrowed, like so many other things- shelter, stillness, time. Who knew how long this safety would last? But despite everything, a moment of calm managed to settle over the trio- a trio who met under decidedly un-calm circumstances. Marta took a deep breath and sighed, savoring the moment’s peace. The three of them were assembled on the floor around a collapsible cot they were all using as a table in the sparsely furnished lodge. To her left was David, gnawing on a piece of soy jerky. He was fiddling with his PDA, putting together a playlist to sync to his comm. Marta could hear the first few muffled seconds of each track as he considered it; plaintive strings, melancholy piano, blaring synth and everything in between. To her right was Glory, also studying her PDA, her eyes fixed in her characteristic intense, unblinking stare. Glory wasn’t too close, but neither was she too far away. Marta was between them, facing the fireplace. She sat in the shifting firelight, their little borrowed hearth so unlike the blaze that had consumed her church. Scarcely a day ago, she’d been a nun, living a life of charity and piety in the service of the Nameless Queen. Now, look at her. She’d fought daemons and sorceresses, pulled people out of burning buildings… She’d stepped out of her life of quiet devotion for all of 24 hours, and now here she was, on the run, with friends old and new, both of whom had already saved her life at least once before. How much difference a day makes. Unlike David and Glory, Marta wasn’t looking at her PDA. She was shuffling her deck of Tarot cards, handmade and hand-painted. They had been a gift from Sister Shelley, long ago, when she’d first joined the abbey. ‘They’ll tell your fortune’, Shelley’d told her, ‘and if you don’t care for what they tell you, you can use just them like regular playing cards.’ Honestly, Marta wasn’t really looking at her cards, either. She was just shuffling them so she had something to do with her hands. It was Glory who really held her attention. Glory, who sacrificed herself, body and soul, to break free of Harrow and The Horned King. Glory, who literally carries the weight of that sacrifice everywhere she goes. Glory, who, even after escaping The Horned King’s grasp, dove right back into Hell to pull Marta and the other kids out. Glory, who, years ago, caught first Marta’s eyes, then her heart. Glory, who, even now, clung to Marta’s thoughts and wouldn’t let go. “Marta?” “Huh? What?” Marta blinked. “You’re staring,” Glory said, peering over the top of her PDA. “Do I have something on my face?” Glory’s eyes glinted in the firelight. Marta sucked in a breath. “Um. Yes, actually. D’you mind if I…?” Glory nodded her assent, leaning closer. Marta reached out with a tissue and dabbed at a few rust-red flecks on Glory’s cheek. In the firelight, one could almost believe they were freckles. Marta pulled away, trying not to dwell on how warm Glory had been beneath her hand. “Blood,” she said, simply. “Don’t worry,” Glory said. “It usually isn’t mine.” “Usually,” Marta echoed, watching the shadows flicker across Glory’s face. “Thanks,” Glory said lightly, returning to her work, while Marta gathered the willpower to finally wrench her gaze away. Marta fixed her eyes forward, embarrassed and annoyed at her own feelings. It had been years since she and Glory had been together. Even then, it was as part of Harrow’s Apostles, his inner circle of wives and, frankly, accomplices. They were just teenagers, then. Just kids. Marta could barely remember it all, through the intoxicating haze of The Horned King’s influence. Then Glory snapped. The Horned King pushed her too far- deceived her into killing her own mother. That moment of grief yanked her out of the fog, and she disappeared. She got the surgery that gutted her magical potential and cut her off from The Horned King, and vanished into the shadows, beyond Harrow’s reach. Then she came back, years later. She rescued Marta, rescued Harrow’s acolytes, and purified the Heart of Feuerstelle, the fragment of The Horned King that Harrow was using to force their obedience when words alone were no longer enough. Their reunion was short-lived. Marta left to rediscover herself, now that she was cut free from Harrow’s poisonous influence. And she promised she’d get back in touch once she’d figured things out again. Well, here she was, and Marta did not, in fact, have everything figured out. She didn’t have all the answers. But she sure kept the feelings- even after all this time, it was like riding a bike. You never really forget. Marta heaved a weary sigh, fanning her cards out on the cot. She blew a strand of hair out of her eyes and drew a card, holding it up to the firelight. A woman, robed in blue, seated between two pillars- the darkness and the light- with a banner or veil stretched behind her, separating the conscious from the unconscious. The High Priestess. Patience. Insight. Intuition. The unknown. Marta made a face. “You think that’s funny?” Marta muttered, and shuffled it back into the deck. ~*~ Marta dreams. She half-expects to see someone berating her for still carrying a torch for Glory. Maybe she’d be on a stage, under a spotlight, in front of a leering, laughing crowd. Maybe there’d be someone looming above her, mocking her. Maybe it’d be her parents. Or Harrow. Maybe even The Horned King himself. Marta doesn’t dream of any of these things. Instead, she is back in the Wood. The Heart of Feuerstelle sits before her, his antlered skull of a head lit from within by a tranquil blue light. He sits, serene, even as fires burn in the distance. Smoke drifts into Marta’s face and stings her eyes. One by one, torches appear in the clearing- rising up out of the ground in an eerie imitation of trees taking root. Six. The Heart’s voice rumbles through Marta’s head like a tremor in the earth. Six jewels in the crown of the Horned King. Six torches ring the clearing, but only four are ablaze. Two of them stand unlit, weeping black smoke into the air. The Heart leans forward. He sighs. Smiles, if a skull could be said to smile. A cool breeze passes over Marta, ruffling her hair and whistling through the trees, smelling of honeysuckle and tilled earth. The Heart speaks, his voice like thunder. You’re almost halfway there. ~*~ Daylight came- technically, if not literally. The weather stayed gloomy as ever, with clouds overhead and fog blanketing the road. The loamy earth and sweet honeysuckle of Marta’s dream gave way to wooden floorboards, charcoal, and a sizzling skillet. “I’m sorry about this, boss,” she heard David saying. “I’m, uh, not really a cook.” “That’s fine. These aren’t really ingredients.” “That’s the last time I go grocery shopping at a gas station,” David muttered. “But I meant more along the lines of, ‘this is my first time cooking in a fireplace’.” Marta blinked herself awake, her vision settling into place. She pushed off of her bedroll, sitting up. David was kneeling by the fireplace, Glory sitting nearby. He had propped a grate over the coals, and was tending to a small pan, the smoke making his eyes water. “I feel like I’m doing this wrong,” David grumbled. “I’m getting smoke all up in my face.” “Is there anything I can do to help?” Glory offered. “Yeah, actually. Would you mind chopping up some potatoes?” “Alright. Do you have a knife?” “Just use your claw-thingies.” “You want me to use my hand razors? Do you have any idea where those have been?” Glory turned, and caught Marta’s gaze. She smiled at her- figuratively, as Glory’s smiles so rarely made it to her mouth- and in the dim morning light her eyes glinted like lit coals. “Good morning,” Glory murmured, the warmth in her voice pricking Marta’s heart like a fishhook. “G- Good morning,” Marta returned. The flush across her cheeks was twofold; first, from the blissful thought of simply waking up to Glory, and second, from the embarrassment of such a little thing getting her so flustered. Glory held Marta’s gaze for a long moment. Their eyes glinted in the firelight, brown and amber edged with red, the mark of the Horned King’s influence lingering on them both. Marta swallowed. Even before the surgery, Glory had a habit of staring right through her... “Mornin’,” David chimed in, oblivious, and Marta exhaled, quietly grateful. “Good morning, David,” Marta smiled. She lifted her pendant, the icon of Venus, and slipped it around her neck. “What are we having?” “Breakfast! ...Sort of!” David announced, with something almost, but not quite, resembling pride. “We’ve got eggs, sort of, and uh, sausage, sort of. And potatoes. Those are real. I’m like… ninety percent sure.” “I don’t know if I like those odds,” Marta teased. David made a face. He held out the skillet and Glory dropped in a handful of chopped potatoes, hissing as they hit the pan. “Come on,” David protested. “Doesn’t that just smell delicious?” “Well. I mean...” “It certainly smells.” “Thank you, Glory. That’s… that’s real helpful.” ~*~ For all their needling, in the end, David really could make a halfway decent batch of skillet potatoes. Although, next time, he’d prop up the grate a little higher for better temperature control… and maybe put the potatoes in first, so they have time to get tender before the eggs start to burn. It was still miles better than soy jerky and string cheese, although, admittedly, that wasn’t a very high bar. Marta sat back and sighed, satisfyingly full. Glory and David were both poking at their PDAs; Glory, studying her screen and scribbling notes into a pocket notebook; David, his eyes darting quizzically between his PDA, the still-warm skillet on his lap, a spatula, and a little box of coarse salt. For one reason or another, Marta found herself smiling. It had been a hectic few days. To simply enjoy a meal with friends, old and new, felt comfortingly domestic and mundane. That is, until David snapped to attention. He jumped up and pressed his ear against the wall, the skillet falling off his lap and hitting the floor with a thud. “What-” Glory began. “Get down,” David hissed. Marta dropped flat, her pendant clanging against the floorboards. Glory followed suit. David crouched by the wall, his hand hovering over his thigh holster. Marta felt the rumbling along the ground. She exhaled, sliding into astral space. She saw Glory beside her, a shadow threaded with green, and David by the door, his aura glimmering gold, urgent, attentive. She saw them- a cluster of glowing red, ambling past like a meteor in slow motion. She felt the weight of their tires on the pavement, the rumble of engines. Marta exhaled, vision snapping back to reality. “Two vehicles,” David reported, peering out the window. “Red pickup, then a big white van. Probably driving slow ‘cuz of the fog. Gone now.” David exhaled, returning to his spot at the folding camp bed they were all using as a table. “Sorry, guys,” David said. “False alarm. Probably.” “Better safe,” Glory shrugged, returning to her notes. David glanced at Marta and Glory, looking up from his PDA’s extranet article on how to clean a cast iron skillet when you don’t have access to running water. “You know,” he began, shaking some coarse salt onto the pan and starting to scrape, “I’d meant to ask this earlier, before the, y’know, stuck-in-a-burning-building thing. But how did you two meet?” Marta and Glory shared a look. “It’s a long story,” Marta offered. “We’ve got time,” David said. “We met through Harrow,” Glory said. Her eyes were flinty and hard. “That’s all you need to know.” David withered under Glory’s stare. Eventually, Glory exhaled, tucking her PDA into a coat pocket and rising to her feet. “I’m taking a walk,” she announced icily, slipping out the back door. An uncomfortable quiet settled between them. Marta cleared her throat. “I’m sorry,” she said. “No, I’m sorry,” David muttered. He set the pan aside, half-finished. “It’s a touchy subject. I probably shouldn’t pry.” “That ‘touchy subject’ is the foundation of this whole trip,” Marta said. “I’m just a bodyguard,” David shrugged. “...Who, admittedly, just let his primary walk off into the woods without him. But still. Glory doesn’t have to answer my questions.” “No,” Marta pressed. “If you’re going to help Glory in this hunt- if you’re going to follow her into Hell- then you deserve to know exactly who you’re after and what you’re getting into.” David considered that. Swallowed. Nodded. “Alright,” he said. “Fair enough. So… how did you two meet?” Marta let out a long, tired sigh. “It feels like a lifetime ago…” ~*~ Marta told David everything. Haltingly at first, then all at once, like a handful of misplaced pebbles triggering a landslide. How she first joined the cult as a teenager, sucked in by Harrow’s looks, his charm, his bright lure of freedom, the promise of independence from an unjust, uncaring society. How he put her to work, combing the streets for kids who’d be open to what Harrow had to say- and how, over time, they’d hang on to his every word. She told him about how they touched up an abandoned hunting lodge in the Schonbuch Forest and transformed it into Der Feuerstelle, The Fireplace, Harrow’s compound and castle. She told him about what she became: a face of the cult, recruiter, kidnapper, a den mother to the acolytes, a wife to Harrow himself. Harrow made her dye her hair fire-red, as a symbol of her status. She was favored among the cult; Harrow’s queen and right hand. All this time, Harrow hadn’t resorted to using dark magic to control his followers. He lured them and kept them, with words alone. Harrow’s poisonous charisma was enough to utterly consume Marta’s thoughts. She was obsessed. Poisoned by his words. Addicted to his body. And then, on a routine scouting sweep for potential recruits, Marta found Glory. Glory was homeless. Penniless. Young. Vulnerable. Beautiful. That’s what Marta thought. She couldn’t let someone so beautiful simply starve on the street. So Marta reached out her hand… and Der Feuerstelle swallowed Glory up. Over time, the influence of The Horned King began to grow. Little changes piled up over time, little things that went unnoticed in the haze of Harrow’s worship. His iconography spread throughout the house, in etchings, wood carvings, decorations on the shelves, the walls, the mantelpiece in the lounge. Antlers everywhere. Antlers and flames. Der Feuerstelle might have been Harrow’s house, but it was The Horned King who truly reigned. The daemon’s presence was intoxicating. Harrow’s followers hung on his every word, and leapt at the chance to please him, no matter what his demands. Petty theft. Robbery. Arson. Kidnapping. Assault. It didn’t matter. Harrow spoke, and his disciples obeyed. He was the king of Der Feuerstelle. A narcissistic criminal whose pockets swelled with blood money while lovestruck addicts clawed at his feet. And Marta was the one who gave Glory the invitation. Marta was Glory’s gateway drug. Glory was special. She climbed the ranks much as Marta did, and soon found herself counted among Harrow’s inner circle. Glory commanded respect from the acolytes, and soon became charged with carrying out Harrow’s will on expeditions outside the lodge. If Marta was the matriarch, then Glory was the muscle. Together, they formed the pillars of the household. But then something went wrong. Glory went out on an expedition and never came back. And with Glory missing, Harrow’s influence began to crack. No one knew why Glory had suddenly disappeared; or if they did, no one was saying anything. Some of Harrow’s followers proposed that they search for Glory, Marta foremost among them. But there was no search. Harrow set aside a room of the lodge, placed a shining stone on an altar and declared the room off-limits. And, just like that, the whispers of dissent grew silent. “I don’t remember much after that,” Marta said, her expression clouded. “There’s just a heat, and this stinging feeling, like smoke getting into your eyes. Anyway. A year ago, Glory returned to Feuerstelle with a shadowrunner named Poplar. They purified the spirit that Harrow had press-ganged. That snapped me out of my… trance, I guess. They broke us out; me and the kids that were still around. Glory went back to Berlin. I went to join the Sisters. And, well. You know the rest.” David sat, pensive, his fingers steepled. Marta watched him, wary. She was waiting for the judgment; waiting for the surprise, the outrage, anything. She was waiting, anxiously, for David to react to the years of messy, damning history she’d all-but-vomited onto his lap. She was waiting for him to berate her; to call her stupid, gullible, desperate, foolish. He didn’t say any of that. He didn’t say anything; only met Marta’s eyes in the dark, and kept his maddening quiet. David opened his mouth, as if to say something. Marta leaned forward, expectant. David slumped in his seat. He closed his mouth and heaved a sigh. “Man…” David’s caught Marta’s gaze. “That’s some fucked up shit.” Marta barked a laugh, despite everything. “...Yeah. I’m- I’m sorry to just dump that on you all at once. I just thought you needed to know.” David smiled. “It’s fine. For your part, I think you needed to tell it.” Marta grinned in return. David was right. In her time at the abbey, she’d only divulged her checkered past as a cult matriarch in bits and pieces, hiding behind imperfect memory and ambiguity. There was something truly refreshing about being able to lay the truth bare. She’d known David for scarcely a day, but Marta thought he could be a friend. He made for a decent enough confessor, at any rate. Marta shivered. Marta wasn’t sure what she’d expected David to say, but he’d taken her impromptu honesty hour completely in stride. Her anxiety left her in sighs, in smiles, only lingering in the tips of her fingers. “What about you?” Marta asked, shuffling her Tarot deck if only to occupy her restless hands. “What’s your story?” “Well, shit,” David shrugged. “I don’t have anything like all that. Honestly, I’m kinda boring. Even my aura’s boring. You can read me, if you want.” “Can I, really?” “Yeah. No skin off my nose.” Marta exhaled, sliding into astral space. David’s aura unfurled before her, a pale, smoky gray, threaded with luminescent gold. His magical potential coiled around him like smoke, only coalescing into two distinct spells: the ability to heal minor wounds, and the ability to sharpen one’s aim. Even these two spells didn’t crystallize in his aura like they would a professional, textbook mage. Self-taught, then. Intuitive. Adaptive. He could be an Air magus in the making, if he could get the proper training. “I’m nothing special,” David was saying, as Marta returned to realspace. “I’ve got a few drops of magic in me, but that’s never paid my bills. I never had any real aptitude for book learning, but I’m in decent shape, and I’ve got decent aim, so I went for a career in CorpSec. I was there almost ten years. I was even on track for a position at Knight Errant. But…” “But?” David let out a breath. “...I quit.” Marta blinked. “Why?” “I don’t know,” David shrugged. “It just sort of… happened. That’s when I went freelance, and moved to Halcyon City. I packed up my gear, my coat, my car, and tried to make it on my own.” David smiled, rueful. “It didn’t work out as well as I hoped. I was broke for a while. But there weren’t so many contracts, and there wasn’t as much fine print and corporate PR to sift through. So that was a plus. And, well… I got by. More or less.” Marta nodded. “So how did you meet Glory?” “Glory saved my life,” David said softly. He broke into a grin. “Well, more like she spared my life. I was on a job, guarding some little cabin in the woods. Easy money, standing on a porch and taking in the air. Turns out I should’ve looked into my client more carefully. They were there laying the groundwork for a Firepact cell.” Marta cringed. “...Yikes.” “Yeah, ‘yikes’,” David snorted. “So imagine my surprise when Glory charges out of the woods to kick our goddamn teeth in. Blows out a guy’s chest with a high caliber revolver round. Uses her claws to tear two other guys to shreds. Only spared me, I can imagine, because I asked nicely- in other words, begging and damn near pissing myself. I still wound up getting kicked into a tree because I said something stupid. Blacked out for a bit. When I came to, she was gone.” David shook his head. “Just left bodies behind.” “I’m sorry,” Marta said. “Don’t be too sorry,” David said. “Sergeant Castor was alright, but the other two guys were dicks. Besides, we were rent-a-cops. Mercenaries. Mercs who make it to retirement are one in a million.” Marta nodded. She shuffled her Tarot deck, somber. “Anyway,” David said, breezing past. “I ran into Glory again on another job. That night, if you can believe it. Long story short: she saved my life for real, that time. And then she offered me a job. As her bodyguard, which, y’know, only gets more laughable the more I see her fight.” “Still,” Marta smiled in gratitude. “I’m glad you were with her, even for a little bit. With how much danger she’s been in, with who knows many people coming after her… I hate the thought of Glory facing that alone.” “But she’s not alone, is she?” David asked. “She has you.” Marta’s Tarot deck slipped from her fingers. Her cards scattered across the floor, a flush coloring her cheeks. “That’s…” Marta bristled, crossing her arms across her chest. “...I don’t know what you mean by that.” “Oh boy,” David sighed. He started gathering up the fallen cards. “Look. I’m sorry. I know it’s none of my business. But, if you’d like my unsolicited opinion-” “Which I don’t.” “-I think you should tell her.” Marta’s expression softened. She sighed, picking cards up off the floor. “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Marta murmured. “I think you two are adults,” David said, “and it’s better to have stuff like this out in the open instead of letting it keep you in knots.” David handed her his pile of cards. Marta took them, muttering muted thanks. David sighed. He reached out, snagging one last card that had slipped under the cot they were using as a table. “Why did you go with Glory?” Marta asked. “Honestly? A job is a job,” David admitted. “Nothing personal. But it’s personal for you, and for Glory, too. I don’t know this Harrow guy, but he sounds like a real scumbag. He sounds like he deserves every bit of karma coming his way. So if I can help you guys make that happen, I will. In the meantime, I’ll be happy just getting by.” “That’s all?” Marta wondered. “If you just wanted to make a living, you could have stayed in CorpSec. I’m sure that’d be a more comfortable life. If you stay here, you’ll be a fugitive. Is that what you want?” David shrugged. “You could’ve stayed with the Sisters, helped Sister Shelley rebuild the church. The Firepact’s gunning for Glory. Once she left the city, you’d have been safe- now you’re a fugitive, too. Why did you stay?” “Glory’s my-” Marta bit her lip. “...friend. I couldn’t let her do this alone. But you don’t know her, David. The Firepact is dangerous. What if you get hurt? What if you get killed? You don’t owe her anything.” “Yes, I do,” David said. “She saved my life, remember?” “I just…” Marta sighed. “I just don’t want you to die for her.” “Wouldn’t you?” Marta paused. She looked at the floor, shuffling her Tarot deck. “I’m a mercenary, Marta,” David said softly. “I know the numbers. Chances are I won’t retire. I could die working in CorpSec, or for Knight Errant, or as a freelancer. I could die, no matter who my boss is. But what Glory’s trying to do… I don’t know. I want to do this. This feels like something big. Something important. I haven’t known her as long as you have, but I know she’s someone worth following. Even into Hell.” Marta nodded. David handed her the card that had fallen under the table. She held it up to the light- an eight-spoked wheel, so like a compass, with no mortal hand to guide it. The Wheel of Fortune. Circumstance. Change. The hands of fate, spinning out of mortal control. “I don’t think Glory needs a bodyguard,” David said. “But I think she needs you.” Marta took a deep breath. She swallowed. Nodded. “Thank you,” she breathed. “I’ll-” Marta paused as a strong breeze buffeted the cabin, carrying the scent of coming rain. The back door swayed open. A figure slipped inside before the door closed again, a shadow in the dim light. Glory. “You’re back,” Marta blinked. “Where did you go?” Glory decided not to disclose that she had briefly stepped outside to escape bad memories, and then been promptly preoccupied by a stray cat that was wandering through the undergrowth. “I got distracted,” Glory said flatly. “Now’s not the time. Get down. Mr. Wen, the road.” Marta tucked away her Tarot deck and fell flat onto her stomach. David crept up to the window and peeked outside. They could hear it; the sound of engines, of tires creaking over pavement. The sound grew louder, got closer, before it faded into the distance. “Damn it,” David muttered. “Two vehicles. Red pickup. White van. Damn well the same ones from before.” “Pack your things,” Glory ordered. “We’ve stayed here too long.” ~*~ The rain came, haltingly at first, then all at once. It came down in fat, wet drops, turning the ground into mire in a matter of minutes. Marta, for her part, was untouched by rain. Since abandoning the Horned King as the source of her magic, her affinity for water meant she didn’t have to worry about getting wet. A bubble of Marta’s magic kept the driving rain at bay. David and Glory were grateful; but they still weren’t too comfortable, perched as they were in the boughs of a tree. “Four guys on foot,” David reported, squinting through his rifle scope. “Hunting dogs. Five, maybe six. There’s something up with their eyes. A glow, like fire. So, I’m guessing hellhounds.” “Fun,” Glory muttered. “The rain will cover our sound and our scent,” Marta chimed in. “It’s not too late for us to just give them the slip. We can circle behind them, get back to the car, and get out of here before they make it back to their vans.” “No,” Glory shook her head. “We slip away now, they’ll just be back on us later. We stop this tonight.” Glory turned, her eyes glinting in the dim light. “Marta, can you shroud this location?” “Yes,” Marta nodded, “but the dogs are magically active. They’ll sense us hiding, even if they can’t see us.” “The shroud will still keep the hunters from getting a shot off,” Glory said. She dropped to the ground with a splash, flicking out her hand razors. “Stay here,” Glory said, glancing up at Marta. “Stay safe. This shouldn’t take long.” “But-” “Don’t worry about me,” Glory smiled in her eyes, not quite reaching her mouth. “Just stay close to David until we get this over with.” Marta opened her mouth, then closed it again. She sighed. “...Alright.” “Mr. Wen? The dogs, if you please.” “You got it, boss.” Marta took a deep breath and sighed. Pale blue power gathered at her fingertips and coalesced in a glyph around the base of their tree, hiding them from view. David shouldered his rifle and swept his aim, while Glory turned, coat-tails flaring in the wind, and strode out into the storm… ~*~ Two hunters picked their way through the mud and the muck, rifles tucked under their arms, cheap plastic ponchos flapping in the wind. Their pack of hunting dogs had vanished ahead of them into the woods. With the fog, and the pounding rain, if not for their incessant barking, they would’ve lost track of them already. “Shitty day for a hunt,” one of them muttered, boots sloshing through the sodden undergrowth. “Pay’s gonna be worth it,” his partner replied. “The boys are gonna have steak tomorrow.” “Yeah, and if the fuckin’ dogs are having steak, imagine what we’ll have,” the first hunter grinned. “We’ll have some fancy shit wrapped in gold foil. Whassat called? Pheasant.” “Man, there ain’t no pheasant ‘round here. They’re in, like, China.” “We’ll import it, then. We’ll have the money-” An explosion rocked the woods, and the two hunters snapped to attention, their rifles shouldered, peering through their scopes and into the dark. The edges of a red-hot fireball curled into the air, rising above the trees. Seconds later, it happened again: a sharp bang, like a grenade going off, and a curl of flame and smoke. “D’you see ‘em?” the hunter hissed, urgent. “Man, I don’t see a damn thing.” And he really couldn’t. In the dark, and the fog, and the rain, there was nothing in those woods but the glow of distant fires and the shadow in the trees. Movement. Splashing footsteps, flashing steel- The hunter went rigid, reaching for his throat, fingertips hooked and numb. His blood fountained into the air in a ghastly mist, damped down by the rain. His partner swiveled and took his shot. Strong hands jerked his rifle up, and he fired over the phantom’s shoulder. The butt of his rifle slammed back into his sternum, the impact jarring it from his grip. It swung up and cracked him in the chin. He fell to one knee, and had his neck broken by a home-run swing. Glory dropped the rifle in the mud and kept on running. ~*~ The hellhound was huge, by dog standards. It was an English mastiff before its Awakening, already one of the biggest dog breeds out there. But when its spark ignited, its dormant magic transformed it into a beast- a three-foot tall battering ram, corded with muscle, glowing with magma beneath its skin. In realspace, it was a shadow through the trees, only given away by its eyes, smoldering like hot coals. In astral space, its aura, fire-red, blazed like a torch. Three rifle rounds punched into its body and cut its thread, its aura going dark. In realspace, its body did the opposite- it exploded in a huge, bright ball of fire and cooked meat, its volatile metabolism erupting in some catastrophic, arcane reaction. David exhaled, adjusting his scope. He slid back into astral space, hunting for targets, seeking the bright lights in the charcoal dark. “Is it always like this?” Marta asked from her perch, while David fired another aimed burst that set a hellhound off like a bomb. “You watching from a distance, while Glory’s out there, in the thick of things?” “In theory,” David said. He dropped another distant hellhound, its dying explosion throwing up mud and steam. “I mean, I’ve only been working for her for, like, four days. But that’s the plan. More or less.” “I see.” David glanced back at her, his vision sliding back into realspace. Marta was a shadow beside him, stricken and pale in the dim, misted light. “...Hey. She’s gonna be fine,” David said gently. He clicked out his empty rifle magazine, reaching into his coat for a fresh one. “You’ve seen Glory fight, haven’t you? She’s a monster. She can take care of herself.” “I know,” Marta murmured. “I just… wish she didn’t have to.” Marta suddenly grabbed David’s arm. He looked up, sliding a new magazine into his rifle. “What is it?” David wondered. Marta didn’t know. But she could feel it. A tremor at the edge of her aura. A distortion. A whistling- Marta kicked off the branch she was standing on and shoved David off his perch. Three magical bolts slammed into her and exploded in a plume of flame. ~*~ Glory ducked behind a tree an instant before a high-powered round tore a chunk out of the wood. She drew her revolver and coiled out of cover, firing into the dark. Two shots blew out chips of tree bark. The third yanked the hunter off his feet like a bad actor being pulled off stage. A bolt of magic exploded against the tree beside her, gutting its trunk in a burst of flame. The tree toppled over in a cloud of sparks and splinters, nearly severed at the waist. Glory ducked out of the path of the falling tree, only to spot a hellhound bearing down on her, charging through the mud. Fire gathered in its mouth, trailing embers in its wake. Glory spun around the bolt of magic the hellhound vomited in her direction. It seared past the small of her back and exploded against a tree behind her. The hound leapt at her, and Glory followed through with a spinning kick that pancaked the beast against a tree trunk. Glory shot it in the chest. It exploded against the tree, its arcane metabolism igniting like a firework. Glory jerked to the side, spun by torque. A hellhound’s jaws clamped around her wrist. Its weight and momentum wrenched her arm around, the heavy impact forcing her to the ground. Glory cried out in pain as she hit the muddy ground. She rolled to her feet, shaking her arm, but the beast had sunk its teeth into her augmetic musculature and would not let go. Glory grimaced and plunged her claws into its heart. The beast glowed white, and then exploded in her face. Glory dragged herself up out of the mud, dizzy with pain and fatigue. She clutched her stricken arm to her chest, the augmetics straining. An organic arm, she knew, would have been broken and dislocated, or worse. In the distance, Glory heard the frenzied barking of more hellhounds. Just how many of these damn things were there? “David, I need you to take care of these dogs,” Glory said into her comm. Glory coughed, gagging on soot. She tapped her commlink. “David?” ~*~ David hit the ground with a splash, his ears ringing. He should’ve known. The first rule of astral space is if you can see them, they can see you. And Marta was a Mage, more powerful than he was by a country mile. No wonder they’d be drawn to- “Marta,” David breathed, falling to his knees beside her. Marta was sprawled on the muddy ground, haloed by the burning skeleton of the tree beside them. For someone caught in an explosion, she was remarkably, surprisingly intact. Marta coughed, and blinked, her vision settling. She sat up in David’s grasp, the shimmering traces of a pale blue barrier lingering in the air around them. Her fingertips brushed against the icon of Venus hanging from her neck. “Thank you, Hecate,” Marta smiled. David blinked. “Who?” Marta abruptly pulled David behind her, her fingertips shining blue. A dozen bolts of fire sailed through the air towards them. At Marta’s command, a wall of water rose up to meet them. They struck the barrier and exploded into wisps of steam. Through the swirling water of Marta’s barrier, they could see the pack approaching: another half dozen hellhounds, their handlers undoubtedly close behind. The pickup truck and the white van from before. The ones that had passed their cabin twice. It hadn’t been the same ones, after all; there were two teams. Two hunting parties. And just because they managed to get the drop on the first one didn’t mean they were ready for the second. David swore under his breath. He shouldered his waterlogged rifle, misfired, and swore again. “Marta,” David began, slinging his rifle over his shoulder. The pack was closing in. “Can you gather all the water on the ground into one big puddle, deep enough that the hellhounds can’t just run through it? And can you do that while making sure the two of us stay totally dry?” Marta swallowed. Nodded. “I think so. Why?” David drew his pistol and racked the slide, a soft blue glow coming from the base of the grip. “No reason.” Glyphs traced themselves in the air around Marta’s hands. Magic thrummed in the air, the rain and water around them standing to attention, heeding her silent voice. Six hellhounds broke through the treeline. They charged forward in a frenzy, jaws trailing spittle and embers, scenting Marta’s magic in the air like blood in water. Marta’s wave surged around their feet. Their charge slowed to a trot, then a crawl, and finally, a paddle, as the water rose around them and they couldn’t simply run on through. The wave held them, halted in their tracks. In a circle around David and Marta’s feet, the soil became parched and pale. David fired. The gel-tipped phasic rounds burst as they struck the surface of Marta’s wave. Azure lightning cascaded through the pool, surging into the pack of hunting dogs. They shivered, convulsed, and went still, weeping smoke and steam from their singed bodies. Marta exhaled, and released her hold on the wave. The water receded back into the muddy earth, and for a moment, the only sound was the patter of rain. David turned to her and grinned. The rifle round punched through his chest in a spray of red. David staggered took two halting steps forward. Marta caught him in her arms, fear rooting her in place. She stared down at the ragged hole in the back of his coat, looked up and saw the shadow in the trees. The spent shell fell by the hunter’s foot. He slid the bolt back in place, took aim- His shot exploded off of Glory’s shoulder in a burst of chipped ceramite and sparking metal. She let the force of the shot spin her around. She drew her revolver, took aim, and fired. ~*~ Their healing power merged together, the scent of honeysuckle and tilled earth mingling with that of seafoam and rain. David gasped awake, coughing. He sat up too fast, clutching his head when the dizziness hit him. He groaned, prodding at the frayed hole in his shirt and the unbroken skin beneath. “Oh, man,” David muttered. “If I had a nickel…” “You’d have two nickels,” Glory said. “Three if you count the stun round,” David smiled, despite everything. Glory helped David to his feet with her good arm, clutching the other to her chest. Already, the soft green glow of the Heart’s healing power was coiling like climbing ivy around the damaged limb. He glanced behind her, to where Marta was lingering close at hand. “Everyone alright?” David asked. “Compared to you?” Marta asked. “Fair.” David shrugged. “Come on,” Glory said. “There’s something you should see.” David made his way over to the last of the fallen hunters, leaning on Marta for support. The hunter was lying in a puddle, bleeding out from a shot to his stomach courtesy of Glory. Blood darkened the mud around him. The man lifted his head and glowered at the trio. David’s lips curled in disgust. “You shot my dogs, boy,” Mr. Wilk spat. “Well, you shot me,” David grumbled. “So I guess we’re even.” David searched for the tell-tale glint of fire in Mr. Wilk’s eyes, but found nothing. He exhaled. “He wasn’t enthralled,” Glory said flatly. “None of them were. If they were, the Rose Compass would have sensed something, before.” David gritted his teeth. “Every man has his price,” David said, his voice cold. “Don’t you judge me, boy,” Mr. Wilk said, pulling himself up to his elbows. “I’m just a man trying to make a living. To provide for his family. You’re a mercenary too, boy, or did you forget? A job is a job. You would’ve done the same.” “Would I?” David asked. He reached into the mud and pulled out Mr. Wilk’s hunting rifle. He examined the scope, drew back the bolt, then slid it back into place. For a moment, Marta thought David might shoot him. Instead, David simply slipped the rifle into a canvas sleeve on his back and walked away. “...Little vulture,” Mr. Wilk spat, indignant. “Business expense,” Glory shrugged. She turned and left him there in the mud, Marta following at her heels.   ~*~ The rain cleared, but the mood stayed sour. They drove just long enough to put their encounter with the hunting party behind them, before they stopped and found somewhere to make camp. David, normally the most talkative of the three, was quiet the whole way. When they stopped to make camp, he disappeared into the tent and fell asleep almost immediately. Driving must have worn him out, Marta thought. That, or being shot in the back just a few hours before. Marta sat on an uncomfortably moist log, shuffling her Tarot deck to steady her fingers. Briefly, she considered using her magic to dry it out. But after summoning that wave against the charge of hellhounds, re-casting the concealment spell on David’s car, and, most importantly, subconsciously shielding herself from that explosion… Marta sighed. She was spent; magically, physically, mentally. But when Glory took a seat beside her, her heart still skipped a beat. “I can keep watch,” Glory said, flexing her still-recovering arm. “You should get some rest. That tent is really only big enough for two, anyway.” “I’m okay,” Marta said. “Suit yourself.” Marta exhaled, gazing up at the sky. The clouds were clearing, and the moon was shining through. “So this is what you do?” Marta asked quietly. “This is what you’ve been doing, for all this time?” “Yeah. More or less.” Marta shuffled her Tarot deck, her fingers still trembling. “All this… danger. All this fear, and bloodshed. And for what? Nothing. Nothing but your own survival.” “Sometimes surviving is the best you can do,” Glory said, her eyes distant. “I can’t believe this,” Marta said. “All this time, while I’ve been at the abbey growing tomatoes and ladling out soup for the homeless, you’ve been fighting. You’ve been getting back at the Firepact, punishing them for what they did to you. For what…” Marta swallowed hard. “...for what I did to you.” Glory shook her head. “It wasn’t you. It was the daemon.” “Not in the beginning,” Marta pressed. “I fell for Harrow. No magic involved. I ate up his lies. And then I turned around and did the same thing to you.” Glory exhaled through her nose, staring blankly ahead. Her silence was agonizing. “Glory,” Marta asked, her throat tight. “Do you… hate me?” Glory took a deep breath. “A little,” Glory admitted. The words turned Marta’s insides to ice. “If you had never found me on the street, I wouldn’t be where I am now. I wouldn’t be hunting Harrow down, fighting off Firepact assassins at every step. I wouldn’t even have these,” Glory said, holding up her cyber-arms. “...So… yes. Part of me hates you. A small part. I can’t not, after everything that’s happened.” Marta’s voice was tight. “...I understand.” “But,” Glory continued, “I’m glad you’re safe. I’m glad you’re here with me, Marta. And I’m glad you got out.” “You got me out,” Marta whispered. “You broke me free of Harrow’s control. You saved those kids. You saved me. I…” Marta hesitated. “...I love you for that.” Glory stiffened. She fixed her gaze straight ahead, letting out a sigh. “...I think…” Glory said, choosing each word carefully. “...you may be confusing adrenaline for some other emotion.” She reached out, placing a hand over Marta’s. Beneath her cool touch, Marta’s shaking hands stilled. She exhaled, idly drawing the card from the top of the stack. A woman, bearing a sword in one hand and a set of scales in another, a blindfold around her eyes. Justice is blind. But so is love. It was the sign she needed. The courage she couldn’t find. “I love you, Glory,” Marta breathed. “I love you now, and I loved you then.” “What we had with Harrow was not love,” Glory warned. “I know,” Marta said. “He got in our heads, poisoned us to worship him- but what we had was real. What we had was not the daemon’s doing. We’re not the same people we were before. We can try again.” Glory heaved a sigh, squeezing Marta’s hand in hers. “Do you really believe that, Marta?” Their eyes met in the dark- brown and amber, ringed with red- both of them touched by fire, but neither one consumed. There was still some blood flecked on Glory's cheek, light enough that one might hope they were freckles. Marta didn't care. None of that mattered right now. Marta summoned the last of her courage. She traced a fingertip down Glory’s cheek and curled her hand beneath her chin. “Believe this,” Marta whispered. They were so close. They were haloed in moonlight; wreathed in rain. All that lay between them was just an inch of indecision. And very soon after, not even that. ~*~

[techpriestess]

Drabble: Destruction of the Rampant

He set his teeth as the team made their way through the Rampant. He had left her on the ship- it was supposed to be safe. And now the lumen strips overhead sputtered and symbols that writhed as their gazes passed over them covered the walls. The smell of copper and ozone permeated the narrow passages, penetrating their rebreathers. Blood pooled around his slain crewmen. Somewhere in this nightmare, she was here.

Some hours of slogging through the wreckage brought them team to the door of his personal quarters. The guttering light of her soul lay just beyond. Past doors they had to pry open was as if bison has rampaged through. Furniture was overturned and broken. More obscene symbols defaced the walls and floor. A piece of the bulkhead lay across the bed they had once shared. A seven pointed star had been carved into it, and across the center was her.

Her mouth hung open, her eyes blank and unilluminated. Mechadendrites, no longer attached to the mounts in her back, were slung about the points of the star. Strips of metal torn from the walls had been pounded through her wrists and ankle. Synth skin around the stud in her hands had blackened and still faintly smoked. Her near-black hemolubricant smeared her porcelain skin which was bare for all to see. Her belly, once swollen with their growing child, was carved open like a garish smile, her insides a mishmash of shatter hardware and pulped organs.

Radcliffe wavered as he stared at his wife, leaning against the doorframe. “Rebeckah…” He moaned. A Vornian moved forward to cover her with one of the blankets left torn in a heap on the floor. Her fingers flexed, startling the infantryman. The synth skin cracked and peeled.

Racliffe’s eyes went wide, and in a moment he was by her side, cradling her face in his gloved hands. ‘Amoura…’ He caressed her mind, delicate. Within the confines of her skull, cracked as it was, she screamed. They had destroyed her vocal chords. Her soul flickered in the presence of his.

“We need to get a medical team with a Mechanicus consult up here, now.” He heard Kara direct behind him. The medic in the unit moved to her other side and began his work stemming the leaking fluids and removing her from the bulkhead panel.

Victoria wiped her hands and mechadendrites with a stained rag. An incense burning servoskull circled above her head, nearly brushing the ceiling. A thick smog puffed from it, emitting an earthy smell not unlike what had come to associate with Rebeckah’s research laboratories.

“She will live!” She chirped, obviously very proud of herself. Mitlan raised an eyebrow at the priestess. He remained at his position, arms crssed and boots up on the workbench that sat in the middle of the room. Radcliffe simply stared at her, stopped amid his pacing. “The modifications we had made previously kept 92.4% of the malatek programming out of her software and cogitators. It appears she did make use of the pariah cognator we made for her before it was torn out. Whole thing! All gone.” She giggled and looked up at her servoskull to chirp at it. It chirped back and whirled around her head. Vicca’s gaze wandered around the room, lost in her own thoughts.

“Vicca.” Mitlan warned.

“Oh! Oh. Right. Uhm. Well. She’s recovering now. We will need to replace many of her components. Most of them, really. And I do not have her style of hardware- oh I will have to pick her brain for the method of creation-“ Mitlan got to his feet, drawing her attention. “Oh, oh. She’ll live, but she will not look the same.”

“What of her mind?” Radcliffe rasped.

She giggled and shrugged. “I have no idea! Her programming is mostly in its proper place. She might be crazy. She might not.”

The Inquisitor set his jaw. “And my child? Could they have taken my child alive?”

Vicca’s expression flickered for a moment before her grin returned. “With Chaos, anything is possible!”

“How likely is it?” Mitlan’s voice was low, narrow eyes fixed on her.

“Uhm… Unlikely. There was a significant amount of material left in her abdomen. At most, they took parts for later ritual.” Vicca nodded and tipped her head to one side.

Radcliffe turned away and ran a trembling hand over his face. It was a cold comfort, knowing they did not succeed in taking their son. “When can I see her?”

Vicca hummed, glancing back at the doors she had come through. “My adepts are running diagnostics. She is heavily sedated. It takes quite a load of chemicals to overcome her blood scrubbers! Even after replacing all her hemolubricant-“

“Vicca.” The assassin barked.

“Oh! Oh. Uhm…  She will be conscious enough to communicate in 3.4 hours. She may not be coherent, even if she is totally sane.”

Radcliffe grimaced and set his hands on his hips, his gaze on his feet. “I want to be with her until then.”

Vicca’s grin grew. “Oh yes. That will be fine. My adepts will work around you.”

Past the veils, plastic barriers, and incense burners, she lay in a mesh litter that allowed her newly repaired mechadendrites to dangle freely below her. Some parts were wrapped in black stained gauze, and others were covered in plastic sheets. Synth skin had been peeled away to reveal just how much she had given over to the Machine God. Her long black hair was gone, along with the skin below, and her skull was wired into the machines around her.

Adepts surrounded her, each checking machines, comparing dataslates, or administering new concoctions to her IVs. A low hum underlined the room, their constant chatter mingling with the whir of the cogitators monitoring her. Radcliffe studied her with mouth slightly agape. His breath caught in his throat as his gaze passed over broken cognators and split tubes that hung in the place of what he had once known as skin and limbs. The gaping hole where their child had once grown was still open, a weeping slice that mourned with them. Clear plastic cover her belly, tacked to the edges of her wounds. He approached her; the adepts parted to let him through. No part of her seemed safe to touch. His mind brushed hers briefly, as much to let her know he was there as to confirm to himself that she was in this body of metal and flesh, and that she was truly alive. He sat down in a chair an adept silently offered, and cradled his head in his hands.

The light in her eyes brightened as a sunrise, so slow as to be neigh inperceptable. Her head began to move along with unfocused eyes. Her lips twitched from time to time, but no words came.

Radcliffe moved closer as she stirred, gently brushing his mind against hers. It pained him to see all her barriers gone. Her mind was clouded fragments between tumbling streams of data, and those seemed disjointed to even the uninitiated Inquisitor. “Rebeckah…” He whispered, brushing her cheek.

Her gaze fell on him. Gears ground slowly, struggling to focus on his strained face. He smiled at her. Rebeckah’s brows furrowed and her lips struggled to form words, but only a rasping whine came. Augmented vocal chords had yet to be replaced. She pulled at her arms, which had been clamped down while they were being repaired. Gears cried in their effort to move. Her increasingly agitated shifting soon had the Adepts scrambling to get her to stop. Static filled the room.

‘Rebeckah, amoura… Be still, it’s okay.’ Radcliffe insisted in her mind. His thumb rubbed the smooth synth skin of her face. ‘You’re okay.’

The words she could not speak raced through her mind in a whirlwind of static and distress. ‘They took- they took- no no no no Omnissiah no- I can’t-‘ Her mind began to push him out, the barriers returning.

‘Amoura, please…’ His heart was breaking again. ‘It’s me, please be calm, I’m here…’ Radcliffe pleaded.

Her eyes kept slipping in and out of focus as they darted around the room. ‘Gone gone gone. 28.2 hours, no response. Decibal levels in dangerous numbers. Gone. Where is he? Taken. Taken. Killed. Murdered. Homicide. Infanticide. Taken. Gabriel.’ Her gaze fell on him again. ‘Amoira…’ A smile pulled at the edges of her lips. ‘I needed you- I needed you. Where are you? Where is my husband?’

Radcliffe choked, and his other hand cupped her face. ‘Rebeckah, my love, my life, I’m so, so sorry… “I’m here, I’m here now. Please…’ Tears tumbled down his face anew. ‘Amoura… Be still, you’re going to be okay.’

Her head shuddered and the light in her eyes flickered. She made a noise of disbelief but her blood scrubbers were doing well to clear the haze of her mind. ‘Gabriel… I tried… I really tried… Everything, anything… I couldn’t... I can’t… I needed you. Dead. Dead. They’re all… The Rampant cries… Blood, symbols…’

He leaned forward, touching his forehead to hers. ‘I know, I know. I came as soon as I could. I’m here now… We’re taking care of the Rampant. Please, Rebeckah.’

The broken priestess stopped, her whining cognators powering down. ‘The ship cries… The crew is dead… Our son is dead… Am I dead? I want to be dead.’

‘No, my love. I need you now. You are alive. You are being made whole.’ Radcliffe murmured. ‘Rebeckah, I’m sorry… Forgive me…’

Her shoulders sagged as she once did when she sighed. In her mind, she reached up to cup his face. ‘Amoira, I need you. I need you with me. Never leave.’

His chest tightened- his work had taken him away again and again, and would always be that way. Inquisitors never retire. A part of him prayed that this request was only a part of her broken sanity; it was not something he could promise her. ‘I am with you, Rebeckah. I am always yours.’

His answer seemed to pacify her enough, though she seemed to deflate further. His mind caressed hers. ‘I am yours.’ Was all she could muster. He kissed her gently and carefully retreated from her mind.

“I love you, Amoura…” He whispered.

[montemoutdoorgear1]

What Is The Most Important Gear To Bring On A Camping Trip?

Camping is a highly personal experience, and every outdoor adventurer brings to it his or her own strengths, weaknesses, needs and desires. This means that you will probably want to bring along a different set of items than your buddy when heading out on your next trip. For example, you may want to bring along your camera, while your companion would prefer to bring a book. But your equipment list won’t differ entirely from that of your partners — there are a half-dozen or so things that every camper will need to bring. There are also a few items that are necessary for the group but needn’t be carried by every individual member of the party.

We’ll cover both types of equipment below – those things that should appear in every camper’s pack, and those things which should be divvied up between the members of the group.

What Supplies Should I Bring Camping?

For the most part, you’ll need these things no matter where you are heading or how long your trip is scheduled to last. Because you’ll use these items on each and every trip, it is always wise to prioritize these things when allotting your camping-gear budget.

Sleeping Bag

A sleeping bag or camping blanket will keep you warm while you’re sleeping out in the elements, and they’ll cushion your body a little bit too. Most campers elect to bring a sleeping pad too, but this is not absolutely necessary, particularly if you are the type that can sleep anywhere.

Most campers will also be using a tent, but extreme campers may prefer using an enclosed or bivvy-style bag, which will protect you from rain and snow. These are rarely as fun for recreational campers, but they can actually keep you warmer than a traditional tent in extreme conditions, and they obviously help you free up pack space and eliminate a lot of weight.

Water Bottle

Decades ago, camping websites books would list a canteen among the items every camper must bring, but in the 21st century, campers have a number of better options. Canteens make water taste kind of funky and they have narrow mouths, which limits their flexibility. You can’t, for example, cook soup in them very easily.

Instead, most modern campers bring along a wide-mouthed plastic bottle. Often called “Nalgene bottles,” because they were originally produced by a company of the same name, these bottles are now made by a variety of manufacturers. There are differences between the various models, so be sure to think carefully about your choice and be a discriminating buyer.

Flashlight

Every camper should have a flashlight on his or her person. Flashlights are not only imperative for safety reasons, but they’re also good for your sanity – sharing a flashlight is no fun at all. Try to select a small, lightweight flashlight that has an easy-to-activate switch, fits comfortably in your hand and pumps out plenty of lumens.

Some campers like to bring along a headlamp, but you’d be wise to bring a flashlight too, as they excel in a variety of ways that headlamps do not. For example, it can be difficult to hold a headlamp steady for a lengthy period of time.

Multitool

A good multitool is one of the most important things in any camper’s pack. They are the Swiss army knives of modern outdoor enthusiasts. Multitools give you a way to carry several different tools in one convenient and relatively light package.

Even the simplest of multitools will usually feature pliers, screwdrivers, scissors and a knife blade, while the more elaborate models will include everything but the kitchen sink. As with almost every other camping-gear decision, you’ll have to balance the competing forces of weight and luxury, so consider your needs carefully when making your choice.

Survival Kit

A small survival kit should be one of the first things every camper packs before a trip. It should contain the essential items you’d need to survive, should a worst-case scenario unfold during your trip. Some campers prefer to purchase commercially assembled survival kits while others prefer to create their own custom survival kit themselves. Either approach is fine, as long as you are sure to include everything you need. Check out our guide to making your own survival kit, if you are so inclined.

Items Every Camping Party Needs

In addition to the things each individual needs, each camping party needs several items that can be shared among the members. Obviously, if you are camping alone you’ll have to carry each of these items yourself, while large parties will be able to spread the weight of these items among the members.

Tent

Tents are shared by two campers, but large tents can accommodate up to 5 or 6 people. This means that you’ll have to adjust the number of tents in your group to match your space needs.

Note that it is not necessary for any one person to carry the entire tent, as you could split it up into its component pieces if you like. This way, you could carry the rainfly and poles, while your companion carries the main tent shell.

Water Purifier

You should never drink untreated water while camping, as even the purest of mountain streams can carry a variety of nasty pathogens. Just a sip from the wrong creek could ruin your trip and have you heading to the emergency room. There are a variety of ways to treat water, but most campers will find that a water purifier is the most convenient and effective solution.

You’ll probably want to bring a purifier for every two members of your group. Aside from the redundancy benefits of multiple units, they’ll save you time too — it can take a while to pump a single liter of water, and time always seems to move slower when you’re thirsty.

Camp Stove

You can cook on an open fire, but this is usually a lot more trouble than it’s worth. Additionally, campfires are prohibited in many locations, particularly west of the Rockies, where wildfires are a perpetual threat. This means that you’ll want to bring along a camp stove whenever you go camping.

You’ll also need to bring along fuel too, and this will typically take up more space than the actual stove. As with water purifiers and tents, you’ll probably want to bring along one stove for every two campers. This will make it much easier to cook larger quantities of food than a single stove would.

First Aid Kit

While some campers will choose to include a few basic first-aid supplies in their survival kit, every camping party should have a well-stocked first-aid kit. Although you can certainly pack as much as space permits, the following items should be considered mandatory:

An assortment of bandages

Gauze

Tape

Tweezers

Benadryl

Aspirin

Ibuprofen

Topical pain-relieving lotion or gel

Antidiarrheal medication

Antacid

Antiseptic wipes

Triple antibiotic ointment or cream

Moleskin

Additionally, you’ll want to bring along any prescription medications you’ll need during the trip. Make sure to pack your first-aid items in a good carrying case to keep everything together and organized. If possible, select a brightly colored bag, so it is easy to find in an emergency. A first-aid kit can be used for several people; you’ll just need to adjust the quantities packed to reflect the size of the group.

Mess Kit

Every camping party needs a mess kit so that you can prepare, cook and serve food. A typical kit would be comprised of two sets of minimal flatware, a couple of pots or pans, two cups and two plates. However, there are plenty of variations on the theme and plenty of options in the marketplace. Mess kits aren’t really life-or-death equipment, so you can pack like a minimalist or a gourmet chef, depending on your desires. You may consider a mess kit an individual item, or you may try to get away with a single mess kit for four people – either way will work.

It’s also important to consider the type of food you’ll be making when planning out your mess kit. Many commercial camping foods can be prepared in and eaten from the bag, which will eliminate the need for individual plates. But on the other hand, you’ll need plenty of pans and individual plates if you want to make pancakes and bacon for breakfast.

Map

If your camping party is to have any chance of reaching its intended destination, you’ll need a good map to help you get there. A good map is even useful when you are hiking along well-marked trails, as it will allow you to determine how far you’ve traveled (and more importantly, how much farther you’ll have to travel to reach the campsite).

Digital maps – such as those displayed on your phone or tablet – are an intriguing option for modern campers, as they can provide a wealth of information that isn’t provided by paper maps. They also provide value from a safety context, as you can use your phone to contact help in an emergency.

However, digital devices present problems too. They are much heavier than a paper map is, and they are dependent on a good signal – something that is rare in the wilderness. Accordingly, it is probably wise to bring a paper map along too, as a backup.

Your Pack; Your Gear; Your Decisions

Every camping trip is different, so you may need to tweak this equipment list to account for the local terrain, wildlife, climate or laws of your destination. Accordingly, no list – including the one above – should be considered exhaustive and foolproof. You must always plan your trip carefully to ensure you have a good time and remain safe while enjoying the great outdoors.

However, the items listed above do represent the primary supplies and tools that you’ll need to ensure most of the memories you’ll make will bring a smile to your face. Additionally, some campers are willing to endure rougher conditions than others. We compiled this list for the “typical” camper, who wants a reasonable amount of comfort during the outing. Ultralight campers and survival-minded minimalists may scoff at a tent, but the typical weekend camper will likely have a much better time if sheltered from the elements.

Conversely, car campers and those for whom camping must include access to bathrooms and showers will probably want to double or triple the length of this list. And as long as you’re driving up to your campsite, there’s nothing wrong with that at all. Did we leave anything out that you consider being critical for camping? We’d love to hear your thoughts on the issue. Let us know what other items you always pack – whether they are personal or group needs.

The post What Is The Most Important Gear To Bring On A Camping Trip? appeared first on Montem Outdoor Gear.

from Montem Outdoor Gear https://montemlife.com/what-is-the-most-important-gear-to-bring-on-a-camping-trip/

[rosesupposesmanythings]

Lumen: Tell me I’m not seeing thing

Lazulite: Nope. That’s a legit astral projection of some basic ass girl on our bedroom wall,

Lumen: Should I stab it?

Lazulite: You’ll probably just get the wallpaper. Save your diabolical urges for something more profitable and come back to bed babe.

[campandhikestore-blog]

Pink Leopard Stay Warm Sleeping Bag Pink

Add some personality to your tent, camper or campsite! The Wildkin Stay Warm sleeping bag features a fully adjustable contoured hood, an interior pocket to stash valuables, a trapezoidal foot box, a tough polyester coated liner, a 2-way and self-repairing zipper, and stuff sack for storage and easy packing. Temperature rated at 30 degrees Fahrenheit. One-year manufacturer's warranty against defects-normal wear-and-tear, and misuse excluded. Rigorously tested to ensure that all parts are lead-safe, bpa-free, phthalate-free, and conform to all rules and regulations set forth by the Consumer Products.

•  Temperature rated at 30 degrees Fahrenheit. Made with water-resistant coated polyester. Warm double layer off-set, multi-needle quilt construction.

•  2-way and self-repairing zipper. Includes matching stuff sack. Fully adjustable contoured hood. Inside 'stash pocket'.

•  Trapezoidal foot box. Suitable for children up to 5 ft. 2 in. tall.

•  Color: Pink. Measurements: 27in. Wx 67.5in. L .Care Instructions: Machine washable; front loader only, gentle cycle, cold water

•  Collection: Ashley Collection.

GI Base Camp Cot

GI Base Camp Cot with reinforced stress points will provide a firm and restful nights sleep; The frames are 1.22mm steel leg construction with additional inner steel tubes for added strength; Weight capacity 275 lbs.; Black Silver color; Durable storage bag included; 83"" x 31"" x 18"".

This product meets the oversized requirement per UPS/FedEx. The shipping weight reflected is the dimensional weight. This product also meets the large package requirement per UPS/FedEx. The estimated shipping cost will include this fee. Large package is $70.00, applied when length plus girth [(2 x width) + (2 x height)] combined exceeds 130 inches. Additional Handling charge of $10.50 applied where a package's longest side exceeds 48 inches in length, the second longest side exceeds 30 inches in length, or total weight is greater than 70 lbs.

Pro III First Aid Kit

Pro III First Aid Kit contains 12 Non Aspirin (Acetaminophen), 10 Adhesive Bandages (3/4x3), 8 Sterile Gauze Pads (3x3), 8 Sterile Non-Adhere Pads (3x4), 4 Antiseptic Towelettes, 4 Antibiotic Ointments, 4 Butterfly Closures, 4 Q-Tips, 3 Safety Pins, 2 thermometers, 2 Thermometer Sheaths, 2 Pill Vials, 2 Roll Gauze (2x5 Yds), 2 Cleaning towelettes, 2 Oval Eye Pads, 1 Splinter Forcep, 1 Scissor, 1 First Aid Cream, 1 Instant Cold Pack, 1 Wire Splint, 1 Adhesive Tape (1/2x10 Yds), 1 ABD Pad (5x9), 1 Triangular Bandage, 1 Emergency Sheet, 1 First Aid Guide, 1 Moleskin (3x4), 1 Razor Blade (Non-Sterile).

DORCY 41-4312 450-Lumen Z DRIVE PWM Slide-Focus Flashlight

DORCY 41-4312 450-Lumen Z DRIVE PWM Slide-Focus Flashlight

Slide focus lens adjusts from spot to precise target beam ; 3.5-hour run time on high; 175 lumens with 12.5-hour run time on low; Weather-resistant; PWM circuitry; Durable, machined aircraft aluminum construction with knurled nonslip barrel grip; Battery indicator; Clip attachment; Includes 2 AA batteries;

For more details on our products and services, please feel free to visit us at hiking accessories, tent accessories, hatchet knive, hiking backpack & camping gear