#The Iron Horse Chronicles

[robertleemurphy]

Book Signing at Arts & Crafts Fair

On Saturday, September 21, 2024, Robert Lee Murphy signed his books at the Fall Arts & Crafts Fair held in the Sun City Anthem Recreation Center in Henderson, Nevada. This was the first book signing event at which Robert could tell interested readers (and listeners) that The Iron Horse Chronicles is now available as audio books on Amazon’s Audible.com

[celestiamour]

‧₊˚✧ ❛[ one loss after another ]❜

ft. peter pevensie x gn! reader — prince caspian, the chronicles of narnia

╰₊✧ peter realizing that his lover didn’t get past the gates┊1.1k words (prt two)

setting: the telmarine age (prince caspian) contains: angst!! prince caspian spoilers, guilt, descriptions of battles, mentions of death & murder, open ending, maybe ooc/lore inaccurate

➤ author's note: mmmm, narnia brainrot…

all around him was the state of his troops being massacred, the same troops who swore to follow him to the very end and were now paying the price of his foolishness with their lives. they were heavily outnumbered and deep in enemy territory while more and more telmarines joined the battle from seemingly nowhere. the call to retreat has been made several times, but some narnians were dealing with as many as three soldiers at once and the wave of archers from above raining arrows on them all certainly wasn’t helping. they were being held back, and as much as peter wanted to stay and help as many escape as possible, there were too many and the brave minotaur giving his life to hold the gate open wasn’t going to be standing forever.

he could feel his heart beating up to his ears and the wind rushing past him as he rode his horse past the archway with several others, but it wasn’t loud enough for him to ignore the battle cries and the howls of pain of those who didn’t make it behind him slowly becoming distant. as soon as he managed to flee, the minotaur collapsed on the spot and the heavy iron gate crashed atop his body. there were so many who were still trapped, trying to climb the metal bars in a futile attempt while getting stabbed in the back while some others decided to kill as many of the enemy forces as possible until their dying breath. whatever they were doing, they were all yelling at their noble king to turn back around and get away before miraz could chase after him.

it was difficult to listen to them and tear his eyes away from the entrance of the castle, but it was even more difficult to resist the urge to cry as he got to a safer distance. he failed them, he failed them all. he didn’t dare to look at the survivors, keeping his head down in shame and disbelief. he was supposed to be a king, the fabled magnificent high king of old who once saved the land from the white witch, but it was time for him to look the truth in the face and admit that he was still the troublesome schoolboy from finchley who wasn’t fit to rule anymore, much less mythical beings who were threatened to being driven to extinction.

when he finally lifted his head to address the remaining few, he felt his heart now drop. “w-where is…?!” panic was setting in as his world started spinning. lucy was back at base, susan was right in front of him, edmund just flew in with the help of a griffin, but you weren’t anywhere to be found. he thought he was going to be sick, tightening his hands on the reins and ready to go speeding back, “they must still be in there…! i-i need to go back!”

“you can’t!” susan exclaimed, the centaur whose back she hopped earlier on was now blocking his way.

“i have to! they’ll die in there!” despite being one of the most proficient with swords (even more so than him) and one of the best fighters at his disposal, he never wanted you to endanger yourself in battle and now regrets not trying harder to convince you not to join them.

“peter, you need to stop and think! you don’t have any way to get back in there— even sneaking in wouldn’t work now that they are high-alert! you’ll just get yourself killed while we need you to lead us. besides, you know that if anyone can make it out alive, it’s them, and if they can’t, then you need to stay alive to avenge them!”

she was right, and he knew that he should be listening to her since he still has the narnians and his younger siblings to protect, but his mind was racing even faster than his heart was earlier. he doesn’t know how he’ll handle the grief if you don’t make it, not after the massive scare of assuming you were already gone while he was away from narnia just to find you frozen in time thanks to aslan’s magic. ever since then, he’s kept you as close to him as he could, but now he’s afraid that fate is continuously trying to rip you away from him.

he took a deep breath, trying to collect his thoughts and swallowing his fear to put on a brave facade in an effort to lift the spirits of his troops, telling everyone to head back to aslan’s how before they will figure out how to recover and their next plan of action. he didn’t follow them immediately, not wanting to see the likely spiteful look in their eyes and hear the possible gossip about how incompetent he is, and instead looked back at the telmarine castle. it was much quieter now and darker with the looming knowledge of death indirectly by his hand, but the faint sound of metal clashing against metal was enough to give him a glimmer of hope you were still alive.

and alive you were, swinging your sword like the battle just started! they just couldn’t seem to pin you down, tripping over each other as they tried to swarm you and arrows hitting their own men instead of you. there might have been even more deaths by friendly fire than there was from you, but you were only here to raise hell for them to avenge your fallen friends. if you were going to die behind these walls, then you were going to take down as many of them as possible with you! you didn’t really know if there were other narnians still alive or if it was only you, but it didn’t matter right now when you were putting all of your strength to defending yourself.

the general leaned over to catch the attention of his king who was focused on you, “that one might single-handedly wipe out everyone in the palace if we don’t intervene right now…”

miraz couldn’t help but smirk, what was a warrior like you doing serving the boy king of a lost cause? you would be much better suited in his own army, maybe as a captain or as a lieutenant. “indeed… capture them and bring them to me after a night in the dungeon, perhaps they would make a good ally with a bit of convincing…” too bad for him, your loyalties are to the high king peter pevensie the magnificent and none other. that single night that he foolishly allows you to spend in his prison will be more than enough time to break out and make your way back to camp.

[book--brackets]

Summaries under the cut

The Chronicles of Prydain by Lloyd Alexander

Taran wanted to be a hero, and looking after a pig wasn't exactly heroic, even though Hen Wen was an oracular pig. But the day that Hen Wen vanished, Taran was led into an enchanting and perilous world. With his band of followers, he confronted the Horned King and his terrible Cauldron-Born. These were the forces of evil, and only Hen Wen knew the secret of keeping the kingdom of Prydain safe from them. But who would find her first?

The Trumpet of the Swan by E. B. White

Louie is very popular. Who wouldn't love a swan who can read, write, and play the trumpet? When Louie goes to camp, he meets a boy named A.G. who doesn't like birds, and since Louie is a bird, that means he doesn't like Louie. When A.G. pulls a dangerous stunt out on the lake, he realizes that Louie is a hero, after all.

My Side of the Mountain by Jean Craighead George

Every kid thinks about running away at one point or another; few get farther than the end of the block. Young Sam Gribley gets to the end of the block and keeps going--all the way to the Catskill Mountains of upstate New York. There he sets up house in a huge hollowed-out tree, with a falcon and a weasel for companions and his wits as his tool for survival. In a spellbinding, touching, funny account, Sam learns to live off the land, and grows up a little in the process. Blizzards, hunters, loneliness, and fear all battle to drive Sam back to city life. But his desire for freedom, independence, and adventure is stronger. No reader will be immune to the compulsion to go right out and start whittling fishhooks and befriending raccoons.

The Black Stallion by Walter Farley

Alec Ramsay is the sole human survivor of a devastating shipwreck. Trapped on a deserted island, Alec finds his only companion is a horse, beautiful, unbroken, and savage . . . a horse whose beauty matches his wild spirit.

The Magisterium by Holly Black and Cassandra Clare

All his life, Call has been warned by his father to stay away from magic. To succeed at the Iron Trial and be admitted into the vaunted Magisterium school would bring bad things. But he fails at failing. Only hard work, loyal friends, danger, and a puppy await.

The Two Princesses of Bamarre by Gail Carson Levine

Twelve-year-old Addie admires her older sister Meryl, who aspires to rid the kingdom of Bamarre of gryphons, specters, and ogres. Addie, on the other hand, is fearful even of spiders and depends on Meryl for courage and protection. Waving her sword Bloodbiter, the older girl declaims in the garden from the heroic epic of Drualt to a thrilled audience of Addie, their governess, and the young sorcerer Rhys.

But when Meryl falls ill with the dreaded Gray Death, Addie must gather her courage and set off alone on a quest to find the cure and save her beloved sister. Addie takes the seven-league boots and magic spyglass left to her by her mother and the enchanted tablecloth and cloak given to her by Rhys - along with a shy declaration of his love. She prevails in encounters with tricky specters (spiders too) and outwits a wickedly personable dragon in adventures touched with romance and a bittersweet ending.

Bunnicula by Deborah and James Howe

Before it's too late, Harold the dog and Chester the cat must find out the truth about the newest pet in the Monroe household -- a suspicious-looking bunny with unusual habits... and fangs!

Beka Cooper by Tamora Pierce

Beka Cooper is a rookie with the law-enforcing Provost's Guard, commonly known as "the Provost's Dogs," in Corus, the capital city of Tortall. To the surprise of both the veteran "Dogs" and her fellow "puppies," Beka requests duty in the Lower City. The Lower City is a tough beat. But it's also where Beka was born, and she's comfortable there.

Beka gets her wish. She's assigned to work with Mattes and Clary, famed veterans among the Provost's Dogs. They're tough, they're capable, and they're none too happy about the indignity of being saddled with a puppy for the first time in years. What they don't know is that Beka has something unique to offer. Never much of a talker, Beka is a good listener. So good, in fact, that she hears things that Mattes and Clary never could - information that is passed in murmurs when flocks of pigeons gather ... murmurs that are the words of the dead.

In this way, Beka learns of someone in the Lower City who has overturned the power structure of the underworld and is terrorizing its citizens into submission and silence. Beka's magical listening talent is the only way for the Provost's Dogs to find out the identity of this brutal new underlord, for the dead are beyond fear. And the ranks of the dead will be growing if the Dogs can't stop a crime wave the likes of which has never been seen. Luckily for the people of the Lower City, the new puppy is a true terrier!

Fairest by Gail Carson Levine

In the kingdom of Ayortha, who is the fairest of them all? Certainly not Aza. She is thoroughly convinced that she is ugly. What she may lack in looks, though, she makes up for with a kind heart, and with something no one else has-a magical voice. Her vocal talents captivate all who hear them, and in Ontio Castle they attract the attention of a handsome prince - and a dangerous new queen.

Trickster's Duology by Tamora Pierce

Alianne is the teenage daughter of the famed Alanna, the first lady knight in Tortall. Young Aly follows in the quieter footsteps of her father, however, delighting in the art of spying. When she is captured and sold as a slave to an exiled royal family in the faraway Copper Islands, it is this skill that makes a difference in a world filled with political intrigue, murderous conspiracy, and warring gods.

[tildeathiwillwrite]

Tag Game: WIP Questionnaire

Thanks to @diabolical-blue and @paeliae-occasionally for the tags here and here!

Blank Questions:

1. What’s the first part of your WIP that you created? 2. If your story was a TV show, what would the theme song/intro be? 3. What are your favorite characters that you made? Why? 4. What other pieces of media do you think your fanbase would share? 5. What has been your biggest struggle with your WIP? 6. Are there any animals in your story? Talk about them! 7. How do your characters travel/get around? 8. What part of your WIP are you working on right now? 9. What aspects (tropes, maybe?) will you think draw your audience in? 10. What are your hopes for your WIP?

Gently tagging @faytelumos @thewritingautisticat @pluttskutt @illarian-rambling @somethingclevermahogony

@scaewolf @grimmdivinity @crwn-nrth and open tag! :D

Answering for The Legend of Orian Goldeneye under the cut:

1. What’s the first part of your WIP that you created?

I actually created Jas first. I fleshed out her design as a portal fantasy protagonist ages before I started thinking up the plot to TLoOG. It consisted of a character sheet with her name, appearance, and general sense of her personality, though that would get fleshed out later as I wrote the first draft.

2. If your story was a TV show, what would the theme song/intro be?

Oooooo I had to think long and hard about this, but I'd love for the song Ghosts That We Knew by Mumford & Sons to be the hypothetical intro. I think the lyrics reflect a lot of the characters' motivations, backstories and relationships.

3. What are your favorite characters that you made? Why?

Killian because I like to whump him, Jas because she's me but slightly to the left, Orian because he's precious baby, Diana because she's a bard, Henrik because he means well but needs improvement, Azura because she is multifaceted.

4. What other pieces of media do you think your fanbase would share?

I suppose other works in the portal fantasy genre such as The Chronicles of Narnia, Beyonders, The Owl House or the Cosmere (I guess?? Worldhoppers are portal fantasy protagonists???) would have overlap. I would say amnesia trope as well but it might be surprising to learn that I haven't read very many books with it. While there are some Wheel of Time elements I don't think there'll be very much overlap compared to the rest.

5. What has been your biggest struggle with your WIP?

This storming rewrite draft. I have a plan that I'm going for but I'm currently at a standstill because Diana didn't originally exist the way she does now and I'm trying to find a good way to introduce Azura that isn't just Orian talking about her. Seriously the first draft was very different than what I'm trying to do now and I'm having issues.

6. Are there any animals in your story? Talk about them!

Does Octavian count? Sure let's say his wolf form counts. Also Henrik's horse.

Octavian's wolf form doesn't come out very much, it tends to operate on instinct and its instincts usually are kill and maim and maul. But if Octavian's cornered he won't hesitate to call out to it and transform.

Henrik's horse's name is Swiftling, she's a powerful mare, former warhorse and as no-nonsense as a horse can possibly get. Asta's stallion learned early on that she won't tolerate anything she considers beneath her. A very fitting horse for Henrik.

7. How do your characters travel/get around?

Well Henrik obviously has his horse. Most of the story takes place in Saint's Shoal, so everyone just walks until they have to travel to Iron Hollow, a city some distance away. Then Diana hires a wagon and horse for the journey.

Some dreamshapers can warp space inside the dream, but only for themselves. Morpheus is one of these. Azura and Orian are not.

8. What part of your WIP are you working on right now?

I just got to Diana's introduction and am gearing up for Azura's. In the first draft Azura was introduced when kidnapping Jas, but I changed that because of reasons. I'm currently having a bad bought of writer's block in this scene though, and I'm considering trying to write it from a different POV instead. Orian's maybe? I'll have to decide soon.

9. What aspects (tropes, maybe?) will you think draw your audience in?

Portal fantasy

High Fantasy

Sarcastic female lead

Dreamcore magic system

Child of prophecy

Badass female villain

Lots and lots of whump

Minimal romance

Low/no spice or smut

10. What are your hopes for your WIP?

That I finish this rewrite draft hehe

[words-writ-in-starlight]

Hello, I came across your Kencyrath rec post and I am tentatively intruiged. That said I wanted to ask about a trigger before I dive in. Suicide is pretty strong trigger for me. I can handle it if it's mentioned, but detailed descriptions of the act or a lot of time spent in a suicidal character's head/thoughts dealing with suicidal ideation would not be. Is this an issue in the Chronicles of Kencyrath, and if it is, do you have a different recommendation?

Okay SO.

The Kencyrath exist in a honor/shame society, in which going against the code of honor (lying, breaking your word, etc) is considered a sin that can only be forgiven through an honorable death. Sometimes this takes the form of going into battle without the intention to come back, generally without armor, but it also takes the form of ritualized suicide with a specific kind of knife. I would call it a very specific kind of suicidal ideation, in which it doesn’t come so much from a depressive headspace as it does from a kind of rigidly religious one. There isn’t a ton of time spent in the heads of characters actively pursuing ritual suicide, nor what I would call traditional depressive suicidality, but it IS a very present element of the society, including people freely making choices with the understanding that they will be expected to take their own life afterward, or people being forced to take their own life as an alternative to being dishonored. Think samurai rules or Imperial Chinese rules and you’ll be in the right ballpark. Ultimately I can’t know the inside of your brain, but if onscreen suicide discussion or aftermath is a concern, I might table this series until you feel more ready for it.

In terms of alternative recommendations, buckle up, I have a list based on what part of the Kencyrath pitch you were into. These recommendations are made with the assumption that all the OTHER content warnings for the Kencyrath are not a problem, but I’ll note any really major ones and include a broad rating according to AO3 rules. Anything with an asterisk by it heavily features the big Chivalric Devotion vibes of the main Kencyrath dynamics. I read a lot of that.

Sprawling politics:

The Unbroken* (drafted soldier impresses daughter of the empress, they try to stop a war, full of double-crossing schemes and gallant ladies, cw colonialism, M for violence, sex, and extremely real colonialism)

The Captive Prince* (dethroned prince is sold into slavery under his mortal enemy, definitional enemies-to-lovers content, cw sexual assault, E for a very sexually relaxed culture in a bad way)

A Taste of Gold and Iron* (unambitious prince gets tangled up in a currency fraud scheme and gets a shiny new bodyguard, E for a very sexually relaxed culture in a good way)

October Daye series (starts out classic urban fantasy, rapidly becomes Blood Magic and Politics The Series, for those committed to a long series, T for violence)

Pulp fantasy adventure vibes:

Hero and the Crown/The Blue Sword* (classic sword and sorcery fantasy, for DnD lovers and people who read Horse Girl Books as kids, General Audiences)

Silver Under Nightfall* (vampire couple teams up with vampire hunter to cure a magical plague, the polyamorous murder romance you need in your life, cw coercive assault and body horror, E for gore and numerous threesomes)

Heaven Official’s Blessing***** (translated Chinese novel, very old fallen god returns to Heaven and Does His Best, for those committed to a LONG book, currently on volume 8, T for violence)

Witch King (body hopping demon tries to solve his own murder with his found family in tow, perfect standalone book, T for violence)

Spicy magic systems:

The City We Became/The World We Made (sentient cities and extra dimensional invaders, for everyone who read a lot of Avengers In NYC fic back in 2012, cw racism and survival sex work, M for sex)

Gideon the Ninth/The Locked Tomb series***** (everyone knows about this series, it’s the one with the lesbian space necromancers, cw for just the craziest flavors of abuse, M for violence and cannibalism I guess, also fits the below category)

The Gilded Ones* (what if all the misogynists who said women were demons were absolutely correct, and it was fucking rad, cw for SO much sexism and also religious indoctrination, T for violence)

A Soul to Keep* et al (okay oKAY LOOK THIS IS MONSTERFUCKER CONTENT BUT I RECOMMEND IT, local cursed woman gets forced to marry a demon, they argue a lot and the sex scenes are REAL bizarre, cw kidnapping and the second book deals with a character coming out of a severe depression, HARD E for monsterfucking, obviously)

Interpersonal relationships that are just SO fucked up:

A Dowry of Blood (a letter from Dracula’s first wife to the man himself, cw domestic abuse, M for adult themes and sex)

Remnants of Filth/Yuwu* (translated Chinese novel, loyal general becomes the jailer for his traitorous ex-lover, cw slavery and discussion of sexual assault, E for sex)

The Salt Grows Heavy (homicidal Little Mermaid and plague doctor wander through an apocalypse together, actually read everything Cassandra Khaw has ever touched, the absolute pinnacle of horror, cw all her stuff for really creative violence and body horror, M for violence and gore)

Anyway if you have any other book recommendation questions and/or you read any of these and enjoy them, hit me up, recommending books to people is genuinely one of my great joys in life.

[thefirstempress]

Warrior Princess in Exile

Link: https://www.heroforge.com/load_config%3D46566089/

As mentioned a while back, I'm planning a spin-off of sorts to The First Empress, starring Viarra's mom, the Warrior-Princess Lutaxa of the Andegamni tribe. Lutaxa's people are based on the ancient Celtic tribes, and in particular the Pre-Roman Gauls. My working title for the story is Warrior Princess in Exile, though I'm open to other names. I finished the first full scene earlier and thought I'd share it here. As always, feedback and comments are welcome!

“Though she was mother of one of the most powerful women in the world, Lutaxa of the Andegamni was never crowned queen of anywhere. Technically she was princess-consort of Kel Fimmaril when she gave birth to the future Empress Viarraluca and her brothers. Meanwhile, she was more of a warlord or war-chief to the Andegamni tribe than queen. As Iron-Age Gannic tribes rarely kept a calendar, we can’t know for sure when she was born, though sometime in late 55 or early 54 BE seems most probable. While Empress Viarra was famous for her gargantuan height, we know that Princess Lutaxa was slightly taller, and like her daughter was also famous for her bright copper hair. She was reputed to have a will like iron and an edge like obsidian. And although she wasn’t present for Viarra’s famous usurpation of the Hegemony of Andivel that began the great empress’s rise to power, we know from accounts by Viarra and her colleagues that Lutaxa was a mighty warrior-princess in her own right and bequeathed both her martial prowess and political savvy to her Titan of a daughter.” —from Empress Viarraluca: Life of a Titan, by Zahnia, the Chronicler

35 BE, Early Summer

Part of her wishing she didn’t have to wear this bronze helmet and scale-armor on the most humid day of the summer so far, Princess Lutaxa of the Andegamni tribe took a swig from her water-skin as she watched the approaching scout riders. She wiped sweat from her eyes, trying not to smear her blue and black war-paint more than it already was. The weather wasn’t even particularly warm, but the inescapable moisture in the air bordered on oppressive.

“What d’ye report?” she demanded as the scouts rejoined the rest of the four-hundred-warrior war-band.

“Is like ye grandfather predicted,” a tall, shirtless spear-warrior named Velitax reported from his horse. “The traitor Cenali and their allies send another war-band tae attack our fortifications from behind.”

“Up the old wagon road?” Chief Adgenix—Lutaxa’s second-cousin and Grandfather’s master-of-horse—asked as he trotted up beside her.

“Aye,” a brigandine-clad shield-maiden named Cavarixa confirmed, nudging her horse closer. “We think seven-hundred strong.”

“From clothes and the crimson war-paint, I recognized their guides from the Iatta tribe,” Velitax added.

“So much for the Iatta’s claims of neutrality,” Adgenix groused behind his long, droopy brown mustache.

“Or maybe they have traitors of their own,” Lutaxa offered. “Grandfather, Father, and the others can piece that together when the Cenali and their allies are defeated. For now, let’s deal wi’ these foes so we can get back tae Grandfather and the rest of the army!”

“Aye, Princess,” Adgenix nodded, grinning and thumping his fist against his bronze breastplate.

“I’ll take the shield-warriors and hunters and hit their vanguard’s flank, while ye take ye horse-warriors and hit their rear as hard as ye can,” Lutaxa ordered. “Let’s see if we cannae smash the rest of their war-band between us and drive them back intae the forest.”

“Aye!” Adgenix grinned again. The scouts rode off with him to rejoin the rest of his seventy-odd cavalry-warriors.

Hefting her shield and spear in her left hand and two javelins in her right with her broadsword dangling from her hip, Lutaxa gave a quick, sharp whistle to signal the rest of her warriors to move out. Her copper hair was twisted up into a topknot and tucked under her conical bronze helmet. The helmet included hinged cheek-flaps to protect her face and a short, angled brim to deflect arrows away from her head. Painted dark blue with wolf-like devices, her wooden shield was tall and oval-shaped, held behind a central bronze boss. Under her scale armor, Lutaxa wore a maroon-dyed, long-sleeved wool shirt with crimson, navy, and pine-colored checkered pants. Lastly, she wore soft-leather ankle-boots to partly muffle her steps.

The wealthier warriors and shield-maids in her band were armed and dressed similarly, some with leather brigandine or bronze plate instead of scales or with tall, hexagonal shields instead of oval. Most of these warriors were either nobles who could afford to buy armor and spend most of their time training or were veterans who’d used spoils from past victories to buy armor and better weapons.

Most of her warriors, however, were conscripted farmers and tradespeople who wore little if any armor and carried either tall oval shields or more often simple round-shields. These warriors usually carried a single spear and a few javelins with maybe a dagger, hatchet, or cudgel as a sidearm. Hunters and huntresses conscripted into Grandfather’s army served as ranged support and typically carried either a longbow or shield and sling with sidearms similar to the poorer warriors. Though the conscripts’ training ranged from rudimentary to nonexistent, the Gannic tribes were a naturally strong and hardy people made mightier by harsh northern winters.

All shades of brown, black, blonde, red, or copper could be found among Gannic hair colors. Northern Gan tended to wear their hair long and wild, twisting it into topknots before going into battle. Though younger men sometimes grew short beards and older men often grew long beards, the more common facial hair was beardless with long, drooping mustaches. And while it varied from tribe to tribe, many men and women also plucked or shaved their body hair during the spring and summer.

Most Gannic shield-warriors and shield-maidens wore war-paint and dyed wool garments plain or with striped, checkered, tartan, diamond, or herring-bone patterns—though fighters who went shirtless were not uncommon. Zealots of warlike gods such as Vindicatus or Atepu were known to fight with only their weapons and war-paint. As in, no clothes: just spears, swords, and shields, with scrotums or snatches bared to all.

While Lutaxa could appreciate the courage it took to charge into battle stark-naked as well as the harrowing effect that screaming, painted nudists could have on enemy morale, such zealots tended to fight bravely and die quickly.

Admittedly, her war-band was a far cry from the disciplined, semi-professional Venarri armies and mercenary Tollesian phalanxes she’d encountered during the two years she’d spent fighting as a mercenary for the Venarri kingdoms and city-states to the south. The Tollesian hoplite sell-spears had been particularly impressive, with their tall spears and bronze or linothorax armor, and Lutaxa remembered being relieved her warriors were fighting beside them instead of against them.

Uncle and Grandfather had used the pay and spoils their tribe acquired from those campaigns to fund this war against the treacherous Cenali. After two years of campaigning, Grandfather—the great War-Chief Camulatix—had forced their foes into a grand showdown at the fortified village of Carix. Expecting the Cenali to send a flanking force around the nearby mountain to attack the village from the west while the main Cenali horde attacked the eastern and southeastern fortifications, Grandfather had assigned Lutaxa’s war-band to locate and ambush this force.

Creeping amid the trees a quarter-mile south of Carix’s stone- and palisade walls, Lutaxa located the wagon-road that she knew the Cenali would be using. Crouching with her warriors amid the tall grass, brush, pines, and other foliage, she readied her javelins and war-horn for the enemy’s arrival. Minutes later, she could hear the tramping of horses’ hooves amid the muttering and footfalls of leather-booted or barefoot warriors.

Crouching nearby, a stark-naked shield-maid named Saglia made a low growling noise as the first invaders came into view. Daughters of Atepu—followers and priestesses of the divine patroness of women warriors, huntresses, and jilted brides—were known to be particularly fearsome, painting their bodies in garish designs and bleaching their hair with lime. Saglia muttered a war-chant to herself, wearing only her blue-and-crimson war-paint, her bleached hair twisted into a topknot that dangled above her right ear.

Armed, clad, and painted similarly to Lutaxa’s war-band, the Cenali vanguard consisted of a few dozen mounted warriors mixed with shield-warriors and hunters. The Gan tending to be a fairly tall people with a lengthy stride, these warriors maintained a steady, mile-eating pace in order to reach their destination quickly and still have enough stamina to fight.

Once the enemy war-band came parallel to her group, Lutaxa raised her war-horn to her lips and blasted out the attack signal. All at once, her band let out their savage battle-cry and loosed their javelins, arrows, and sling-stones into the enemy’s unshielded right flank. Throwing both javelins before charging in, Lutaxa grinned as the first javelin took a rider from his horse while the second tore into a spear-warrior’s leg. The melee warriors led the charge, screaming and shouting as they engaged the startled invaders.

Using the slope to her advantage, Lutaxa screeched a battle-cry her mother taught her and rushed down upon a cavalry-warrior who was trying to get his frightened horse under control. Not giving him the chance, she shoved her spear deep into his kidney. The warrior screamed and fell from his horse, bleeding heavily. The horse responded by freaking out and charging off into the pines.

Lutaxa turned just in time to deflect a spear-thrust with her tall shield. The unarmored spear-maid facing against her managed to block Lutaxa’s return attack but found herself forced to back off as another of Lutaxa’s warriors attacked her unshielded side. Unable to handle the press of the Andegamni warriors, the young spear-maid tripped backward over one of her fallen comrades.

The spear-maid had beautiful golden hair, Lutaxa decided, and could potentially be a valuable battle-captive. Instead of stabbing her to finish her off, Lutaxa flipped her spear around to smack the woman in the temple to knock her out.

As the shield-warriors assailed the vanguard, the hunters, slingers, and javelin-warriors still amid the trees turned their missiles toward the middle of the enemy column, not yet engaged. Lutaxa smirked as two enemy warriors dropped their weapons and ran into the pines on the other side of the wagon-road.

Using her height and the leverage it gave her, Lutaxa punched her shield downward against an enemy shield, staggering the shirtless warrior backward. As the warrior stumbled, she used the opening she’d created to stab her spear deep into his chest.

Around her, the enemy vanguard crumbled at her warriors’ assault, more and more survivors fleeing into the trees. Screaming out another battle-cry, Lutaxa stepped over her fallen enemy to engage a grizzled warrior in what looked like an older bronze breastplate looted from a Venarri foe. The enemy warrior snarled and threw a javelin from less than ten feet away before drawing his broadsword and charging. Lutaxa knocked the javelin aside with her shield before side-stepping his charge and stabbing out with her spear. The spear struck less than an inch too low to catch the warrior’s unprotected armpit, instead deflecting off his bronze cuirass.

As the warrior turned to face Lutaxa, however, the shield-maiden Saglia shrieked out a war-cry and threw her spear into the side of the bronze-clad warrior’s head. Though the spear wasn’t balanced for throwing and the older warrior’s helmet deflected the attack, it knocked him off balance enough that Lutaxa could shove her spear deep into the bastard’s neck.

Lutaxa decided to include seducing Saglia as part of her victory celebration. Meanwhile, Saglia drew her broadsword and raced forward to pounce shield-first on another enemy warrior, tackling him to the ground and stabbing him repeatedly as she frothed at the mouth.

As Lutaxa’s war-band continued to cut their way through the enemy warriors and hunters, a cry came from the back of the enemy mob that they were under attack from both sides.

“Horse-warriors!” an enemy shouted. “We’re attacked from behind!”

Tall enough to easily look over the heads of the struggling Cenali warriors, Lutaxa smirked at the sight of Adgenix’s cavalry scattering the enemy rear-guard. Beset from two sides, the Cenali and their allies stood less than a minute before their horde broke. Lutaxa stabbed through a javelin-hunter’s defenses, her steel spear cutting deep through his chest and pinning the bastard to the ground as he fell. Drawing her broadsword, Lutaxa looked about to see the enemy scattering.

“Chase the fockers tae the river!” Lutaxa screamed to her warriors, a victory cheer going up from their ranks.

In a victorious frenzy, her war-band charged headlong after their routing foes, cavalry taking the lead and trampling deep into the disintegrating enemy war-band. Lutaxa and her shield-warriors chased down and cut down or captured every fleeing Cenali they could catch while her hunters and javelin-warriors lobbed their projectiles at retreating backs.

A deep river flowed less than a quarter-mile to the south of the wagon-road. Venarri merchants she’d met had a name for the river, but Lutaxa couldn’t recall it. Swift and bloated from the spring melt-off, the river was over an eighth of a mile across and was unfordable this time of year. Nevertheless, many Cenali warriors threw down their arms as well as armor if they wore it, leaping into the swift waters to escape the Andegamni warriors’ retribution. Many others threw down their weapons and surrendered.

Lutaxa estimated perhaps two hundred enemies struggling in the swift current. A few hunters lobbed arrows or sling stones after the escaping swimmers. At least one enemy warrior screamed as an arrow stuck deep in his back. The poor bastard screamed and thrashed, bleeding heavily as the current carried him off.

“Save ye arrows!” Lutaxa ordered, sheathing her sword and breathing hard from the battle adrenaline. “Any fockers can make it across deserve tae escape. Ye,” she continued, turning to a surrendering enemy spear-maid in leather brigandine and a bronze-rimmed leather cap. “Who’s in charge of ye war-band?”

“Fock if I ken,” the red-haired, freckled warrior admitted as one of Lutaxa’s warriors took her sword and dagger and another bound the woman’s hands. “I watched ye slay Chief Vocorix with ye own spear. I dinnae ken who’s left in charge after him.” She titled her head. “Ye are Princess Lutaxa, aye?”

“Aye,” Lutaxa confirmed. So the grizzled warrior that Saglia helped her slay must have been their war-chief.

“Ye reputation precedes ye,” the spear-maid nodded. “I suppose Chief Vocorix dinnae expect ye Chief Camulatix tae send his mightiest grandchild tae fight us.”

“Flattery will get ye everywhere,” Lutaxa smirked, raising the woman’s chin with two fingers. The spear-maid was handsome and brawny, probably in her thirties and looked like an experienced fock. Maybe Saglia would like tae share a battle-captive tonight, she mused to herself.

“Secure the prisoners and round up our wounded and theirs!” she barked to her war-band. “Adgenix,” she added, addressing him and handing the captive spear-maid off to her warriors. “Have ye horse-warriors stay alert in case any Cenali who escaped try anything. Once we’ve secured the captives and wounded, ride ye horse-fockers back tae Grandfather’s horde, see if ye cannae help the battle there. We’ll catch up tae ye.”

“Aye,” Chief Adgenix smirked before turning his mount to gather his horse-warriors.

When she was around fourteen winters old, Lutaxa rode her first battles with Adgenix’s cavalry—back when she was still small enough and light enough to ride in combat. While still a proficient horsewoman, her size and weight tended to reduce her mounts’ speed and stamina significantly, especially when riding with full armor and kit. As such, she tended to prefer to lead the charge beside the shield-and-spear warriors.

“Make any looting quick, loves!” Lutaxa added, watching a young spear-warrior conscript trying on a bronze helmet from a dead Cenali warrior. “If needed, we can loot them more thoroughly when we come back tomorrow tae gather our dead.”

A few nearby warriors grumbled, but not loudly.

“Saglia!” Lutaxa announced upon spotting her new favorite Daughter of Atepu. “Thank ye for ye help fighting they war-chief, love!”

“Aye, ye are most welcome, ye highness!” Saglia laughed, stripping a bronze dagger with an antennae-style crossguard and pommel from a dead warrior. From another corpse she took a leather bag full of what sounded like knucklebones. She scrounged a leather cord to tie both, since being naked she didn’t even have a belt to tuck them into.

“As thanks, would ye care tae celebrate by sharing a battle-captive or two with me tonight?” Lutaxa asked, kneeling to help up an allied warrior with a leg-wound.

“That sounds fun!” Saglia agreed, moving to support the warrior’s other side. “I will warn ye,” she added, “I have focked three men tae death, so dinnae bring any captives ye want tae keep alive.”

“I cannae tell if ye are serious,” Lutaxa observed, looking over the wounded warrior’s head at her.

“Aye, she’s serious,” the injured spearman nodded, limping between them. “One of them was my poor, stupid cousin who heard she focked two men tae death and decided tae try her anyway. Dumb bastard died from a broken pelvis.”

“Aye, two men died from broken pelvises, the other from a ruptured bladder,” Saglia added. “Several others were injured for weeks.”

“I killed a man in bed, but he was an assassin sent by the Cenali,” Lutaxa admitted. “He disguised himself as a bed-slave tae get close tae me. I was a bit surprised when he drew a knife, but he was even more surprised when I swatted his knife away with one hand and broke his neck with the other before he could react,” she added, flexing her huge left hand. “Any of ye injured partners women?” she asked next.

“Nae sae much,” Saglia shook her head. “Focking a lass needs a different technique and motions, aye? Lads get hurt, but lasses just cannae walk straight for days.”

“I think ye and I will get on great,” Lutaxa laughed.

[wulfricwashere]

Fav movie and why??

I honestly cannot answer this question because I have SO many favorite movies and the moment Im asked, they all just disappear frok my mind, so I can't even pick, but I'll lable the ones I can remember! Also, the way they are ordered isn't on how much I love them, it's just the order I remember them in. But whilst I can give you a list of movies, Im not sure I can tell you why, but Im like 99% sure there is a theme here so it won't be hard to find a reason 😭

Narnia series (Haven't watched all the movies in a while though.)

LotR/the Hobbit.

Werewolf: The Beast Among Us. Pretty ass movie, but I love it still.

The Labrynth. (I love this movie so fucking much.)

The Corpse Bride.

Hellboy.

Underworld. (Love this one too.)

The Lost Boys.

Paranorman.

Van Helsing. (Hugh Jackman in it omg.)

The Water Horse: Legend of The Deep.

Lion King 1 and 2 (These movies I swear omg.)

Gods of Egypt.

The Iron Giant.

The Devil Conspiracy.

The Spiderwick Chronicles.

The Crow.

Legend of The Gaurdians: The Owls of Ga'Hoole.

The Secrets of Moonacre. (Added this last minute, I also thought this one was a fever dream???)

There is ALOT more, but I didn't want you to read a ten foot long page of movies that I consider my favorites 😭 I actually had to run my way through prime to remember all of these movies and I FOUND A MOVIE THAT I SWORE WAS A FEVER DREAM BECAUSE NOBODY ELSE REMEMBERED IT? Albion: The Enchanted Stallion.

[llaberration]

Coyne's Chronicles: Shadow Over Yfiria - Chapter 11

Trevor slowed his gait a little as he felt Belfus squeeze his flanks, glancing back and upwards at the man quizzically.

“The glow... it's shifting,” murmured Belfus, staring intently at the college seal in his hands. He held it down for Trevor to see. The glowing stone was no longer the one pointing ahead down the path, but had begun to take a left direction, shifting as though they were no longer following directly.

Trevor stamped his hooves and made a little bucking motion, indicating he wanted Belfus to get off, and the Soldier, understanding, dismounted quickly, before the Druid got impatient and tried to buck him off properly.

Trevor returned to his human form, flung his long, curly hair out of his face and and grabbed for the seal, looking at it, turning it in his hands. “It could just be that they're following a bend again... the path doesn't all go in one direction and I've told you that before...”

“I know... but this was a much more sudden change... the bends and turns were gradual... this wasn't.”

Trevor walked a few steps backwards down the path, then paced a good ten metres forwards before scratching his head. “You might be onto something there...” he said, looking up in the direction of the pointer, “we must be close... but... why would they have stopped here... there's nothing...” he glanced at the ground, lowering himself to a crouch and running a finger over a heavy set of hoofprints. “These are pretty fresh... not the freshest but...” he looked along the track and saw they deviated from the path, heading off in the direction that the seal was pointing. “No... they were ahead... why have they stopped?” he frowned, some latent danger instinct telling him this wasn't right. It wasn't what he had been expecting. “I don't like it...”

“Well... what were you hoping would happen? We were bound to find them sooner or later?”

“Yes but not having stopped. I thought we'd find them on the road... my plan was to get ahead of them and then... you know... do the giant snake thing... or something.”

“Sounds like you had a reaaaaaally good plan set out there my friend,” sighed Belfus, dusting off his armour. “Well. We're here now and the situation has changed. So I think the best thing to do is go scout it out carefully. Looks like an old quarry from here so let's go around and look from above at what's down there.”

“Okay...” Trevor agreed, “that sounds good... we can decide what to do when we know what's happening in there...”

Belfus hid his pack in some bushes and the two of them quietly snuck up the hillside behind the quarry, dragging themselves to the edge and looking carefully down into the area below. Trevor held the tracker up carefully, frowning as he saw that even though they were now facing a completely different direction, the glow still firmly directed them to the quarry below. Honestly, he hadn't known quite what to expect... the scent of ancient magic left behind from Alan's kidnapping had him thrown firmly off-kilter even then but now... it made even less sense.

It was just a guy.

With a horse.

An unassuming guy with an unassuming but large horse.

A bit on the short side, dark curly hair, skinny but wearing reasonable quality clothing... apart from those strange, worn iron bands on his wrists the guy looked normal.

There was no sign of Alan, but the stone still firmly indicated this was where he was. If he was dead the glow would have gone out. “Apparently Alan's down there...” he whispered. “Somewhere. But that just looks like some guy that stopped for a rest...”

“It does. he doesn't even look like he's armed... no evidence he's any kind of trouble...”

Trevor chewed his lip. “I don't think he'd be much of a threat to us... I mean... I can turn into a bear and you you're a soldier right? I've never seen you fight but I assume you can.”

Belfus swelled up a little, “I assure you I am a warrior of some respectable skill.”

“Okay good. Well. I'm going to go in there first... I want you to hang out behind me in the bushes... and if I need backup, I'll give you a sign.”

“Are you going to attack?”

“No. Not attack. Well. I'm going to play it safe. See what happens.”

“What exactly is your idea of playing it safe?” asked the Soldier, but Trevor did not answer, already clambering down the hill. “Trevor?”

Coyne sat quietly on the rock, patiently waiting. He knew they had company. Fez, currently curled safely on the rock beside him in his travelling cloak, had spotted them a while ago. Having been fed a hearty meal of rat, he'd regained his strength a little, and they had been quietly relaxing for a few hours, giving the druid time to catch up to them.

The mimic tried not to react as he heard something crashing in the bushes outside the quarry, sitting calm and still as the huge form of a brown bear came charging out of the woods at him. He had been warned this was a possibility, but even though he knew he wasn't prone to death, some distant instinct in him didn't really care for sitting so calmly in the path of a charging bear.

The creature reached him in a few loping strides and then jumped to its full, towering height, letting out a thunderous roar.

Coyne waited until the sound died down, then looked up politely, “You must be Trevor,” he said with an unassuming smile, trying hard to pretend that the roar hadn't turned all of his insides to concentrated liquid terror. He stood up and reached out, taking one of the bear's clawed hands and giving it a polite shake. “He did warn me that you might... be a bear.”

The creature's jaw dropped in confusion, rather than aggression this time.

“It's okay, Alan's fine. I can assure you what happened was just as much a surprise to me as it was to you,”

The creature shook off its surprise, dropping down to all fours and giving a threatening growl, looking around as though it was confused.

“You're looking for Alan, I get it,” said Coyne, nodding. “It's fine, he's here, my 'colleague' just wanted to have a chat with him. He's not been hurt...”

The bear growled again, and Coyne gave it a shrug, “If we'd been doing him harm, would he have warned us about you? Would he have told us your name was Trevor?”

The bear narrowed its eyes, then right before him, began to change. There was a swirl of smoky, green magic as the beast shrank and shifted down to a more normal sized shape, a normal guy in somewhat scruffy travelling robes. “Well then,” he said, flicking long, curly hair out of his face, “Where's Alan?”

“Kind of a long story there...” said Coyne, holding up his hands. “Don't worry. He's not hurt. He's just... y'know what, I'll let him explain but first we should address the... soldier in the bushes.”

“Oh, right,” Trevor turned, “Belfus. You can come out he knows you're there.”

“I mean... with all that armour on it would have been hard not to notice him right?”

“Right?!” Trevor exclaimed, “I'm glad someone agrees that armour is not stealthy!”

Coyne smiled, and they watched as the other man rolled himself out of the bushes and stumbled over to them, brushing leaves off himself. “Jolly good then,” he said, nodding to Trevor. “Did you... find out what the situation is?”

“Not yet, not really. But I don't think this guy is a danger and honestly anyone who's happy to face down a bear like that is someone I'll hear out.”

Coyne gave a grateful grin, “Thanks... that wasn't easy. But please...” he gestured to two rocks nearby, “Take a seat.”

The both of them sat down, looking a little puzzled, as neither of them had expected this to be how the situation went. “So... where's Alan,” said Trevor, “You said he wasn't hurt.”

“He's fine,” said Coyne, “But... I need you guys to promise you'll hear out the whole situation here without taking any violent action, okay? We don't want to hurt you, and I hope you don't want to hurt us so can we just make a truce for now? Agree that we'll talk this out like grown ups?” he looked at Belfus, “No... soldier shenanigans... you guys can be a little rough and ready with the...” he made a stabbing gesture, “Make holes first ask questions later... thing.”

Belfus held up his hands, “As long as you don't try to harm us, I see no reason we'd try to harm you.”

“Okay good,” Coyne reached into his bundled up cloak and retrieved Alan, leaving Fez safely hidden for now. He turned and showed the two men the tiny mage in his hands, drawing simultaneous gasps from both of them.

“What the f...” Trevor began, but Alan held up his hands to silence the druid.

“I'm fine Trevor. It's okay... they haven't hurt me, and my size is a temporary situation I hope.”

“But... where... and why... and how... did you end up here?” Trevor visibly stumbled on wanting to know which question he wanted answered first.

“Remember when I wandered off at the wall?”

“Muttering the word 'orange' like a madman? Yeah...”

“I had just seen Coyne walk in...” Alan gestured at the man holding him. “I'd never seen someone with orange energy before... nothing like this... so... I followed. I went after him a ways... and he turned on me... and at the time I didn't really know what happened... magic kind of enveloped me and then I was trapped in a coin pouch moving across the landscape. As it turns out... Coyne's colleague had spotted my eyes and was... more than a little interested in them so he used some magic to shrink me so Coyne could get me away from other people... he just wanted to talk but couldn't do it at the wall.”

“That leaves more than a few questions unanswered,” grumbled Trevor. “Magic can't just shrink people, that isn't a thing. Even the more powerful mages can only shrink simple objects, and even then there are known side effects. Shrinking a whole person, having them live through it, and doing it that fast is. Well. It's impossible.”

“Impossible for a mage,” said Alan, “Coyne's colleague... or... boss I guess, isn't a mage.”

“This is the reason I wanted you to promise no stabbing,” said Coyne, “Fez is not a mage, or a man, he's a dragon.” It felt strange to say it like that. So openly.

“A dragon. As in. Huge, flying, firebreathing murderlizard, that kind of dragon?” Trevor's voice was a mix of disbelief and concern.

“Yes,” Alan confirmed.

“I was helping him get past the wall because he can't really pass unnoticed, and obviously didn't want to be impaled,” said Coyne. “We were only trying to pass through I swear... but when he saw Alan, he wanted him. Something about 'the eyes of an ancient' honestly I don't understand the details but it turns out your little friend here is a lot more special than the college realised,”

Alan blushed a little bit, “They haven't hurt me. Really. They've been civil apart from this... one thing... but we're not going to discuss that.”

“You say that this 'dragon' of yours 'wanted' Alan... what does that mean?”

“He puts people under contract, that's all. To be his assistant. I'm his assistant. His treasurer, coinpurse, accountant... that kind of thing, and he wanted to sign Alan up as well.”

Trevor scoffed, “You said no of course?” he looked expectantly at Alan.

Alan fiddled nervously with his glasses, “He. Uh. He's really persuasive. He made me an offer... train me to control my eyes, something the college has never done, give me something to allow me to see normally in the meantime, it's only a five year contract and he'll stop me ageing through that time so I don't even 'lose' anything material.”

“Yes but of course you said no. You'd not be fool enough to deal with a dragon, right Alan? Right?”

“He also agreed not to harm you and Belfus. You were following us... and I didn't want to risk him hurting you.”

Trevor slammed a hand into his face, palm-first. “You said yes.”

“Trevor. He's nice. He's given me these!” Alan tapped his glasses, “I can see. I have never once seen clearly since the day I got these eyes! Do you have any idea what it's like?! Don't you realise I've never even seen your FACE before?!”

“What?! Of course you've seen me before we've lived together at the college for years.”

“No,” said Alan, “I haven't seen anyone's face properly since this happened to me,” he gestured to his eyes. “Even the least magical person, always hidden behind a haze of energy. But you... and the other mages... I've never once been able to look you in the eye like I am now.”

The two magic users fell silent for a long moment, just staring at each other, and Coyne sensed something was going on, but when he looked at Belfus, the soldier just shrugged cluelessly. “Ookay... anyway...” he said, clearing his throat, “Your little friend here is now under contract with Fez, like I am... so...”

“But... what about the college,” said Trevor, “You know they can track you too, and they're not going to just let you go.”

“That's the thing,” said Alan, “Fez can remove the ring. He can take off their tracker. He was going to just as soon as we'd explained to you. I can get away from them. You could get away from them with his help.”

Trevor glowered. “It has to be a trick. Nobody can escape Meadowfield's grip.”

“The college has never once caught a dragon through any means other than stumbling onto it and murdering it. If anyone can get away from them, it's a dragon. Come on Trevor, won't you at least agree to talk to him? I'm sure he'd hire a druid, then at the end of your contract you'd be free... no more risk of being... y'know... weaponised.”

Trevor went still at this, his hard expression wavering a little.

“You're not actually considering this...” said Belfus, looking shocked. “It's a dragon Trevor. They're dangerous...”

“So is the college,” said the druid, chewing on his lip. “The dragon just wants to talk?” he directed the question at Coyne and Alan.

“Just talk. Fez is reasonable and he signed a contract with Alan saying he won't harm either of you unless you take violent action against him first.”

“Then it can't hurt to talk,” said Trevor to Belfus, “Alright. Where is this flying monster?”

“Well I think you'll be a bit underwhelmed,” said Coyne, smiling as he set Alan down on his thigh and reached for his cloak, “We had to take measures to hide him to get him past the wall,” he gently herded Fez into his hands and lifted the scaly little body over into view. “Fez... meet our guests.”

Both men stared a little blankly at the small creature, who sat up in Coyne's hands, well balanced and dignified on the fingers, and gave them both a grin with his glittering teeth. “Good afternoon gentlemen.”

“That's your dragon?” asked Trevor.

“I... rather thought they were supposed to be...” Belfus gestured grandly with his hands, “Bigger.”

“Oh, he is. But... we had to sneak him past the wall so, he's currently a bit more compact,” explained Coyne.

“I suppose an entire dragon is a hard thing to smuggle,” said Belfus.

“That explains why the magic used on Alan smelled... different,” said Trevor, “It was dragon magic. Older than ours,” he narrowed his eyes at Fez. “Alan says you wanted to talk to us.”

“In particular, to you,” said the small dragon with a nod. “I have made my deal with your friend, that's not something that can be undone, that part is not what we are negotiating here. However, I can extend you a similar offer. Just as he wanted control of his gift... you want freedom from your College do you not? I cannot have you continue to chase us like this, so I believe we need to come to some other solution.”

Trevor made a face, “Getting right into it are we then?”

Fez smiled, “We have already laid in wait for some time for you to catch up. I am eager to resume our journey.”

“Fine. I suppose a dragon has many important places to be. Right then. Well. First of all, in terms of demands... you seem to have a pretty good idea what I want. If you can offer a good, safe, back door out of Meadowfield's grip, I'd be interested. However. It doesn't seem fair that Alan gets that, in addition to his new little trinket there, and I don't get to make any additional demands.”

“Alright, that seems a fair point. What demands would you have?”

Trevor took a moment to pause, considering this. What did he want that a dragon would have. “No, on second thought... I just want freedom,” he shrugged after a moment. “Nothing else holds much appeal for me really.”

The dragon nodded slightly, “I suppose I should have expected as much from a druid. Alright, well, what can you offer in return that would make that worth my while?”

Trevor frowned, “I'm a druid. I can turn into big scary things, or small sneaky things. That is kind of my skillset. Surely you'd have use for something like that?”

“But is that all?”

“What do you mean?”

“I chose Coyne to be my assistant because he's unique. I chose Alan because his eyes are all but unique... I don't expect the same from you, that would be unreasonable, but if I just wanted a druid I could hire any druid. Why should it be you?” the dragon gave him a coy smile, and Trevor found himself stumbling a little

“Because I'm... conveniently sitting here? I mean, I don't see any other druids around here. And you did already kidnap my colleague so... I presume the reason you would pick me is out of sheer convenience and a want to stop me chasing you?”

Fez chuckled, “That's fair enough. Well. We'll have to see about teaching you to be something other than a run-of-the-mill Druid along the way. I can't go around having anyone that's too ordinary with my group,” he paused, his gaze travelling to Belfus. “Which bring us to you.”

The soldier sat up a little, looking around, “Me?”

“You are a soldier of the wall. A faction I am not terribly fond of. You have nothing to fear from the college because your complete ordinaryness arms you against their interest. From the looks of you lugging your armour all this way you even take pride in what you are, am I wrong?”

Belfus puffed his chest out. “I am proud of what I do.”

“Indeed. That leaves us at an impasse does it not?”

“How so?”

“I cannot let you go running back to the wall to tell of your wild adventures meeting a dragon and losing two college mages into its clutches. At the same time, I believe going back with such a tale would be detrimental to both your career and continued state of aliveness. But you can't really come with us in the role of a soldier either. I have also contractually agreed with Alan not to harm you unless you harm me first, and since we are all being civil to each other at this moment... you can see that leaves us in a bit of a spot.”

Belfus scratched his head, “I... suppose it does. I like my life and honestly, I don't have anything to run from.”

“No? Do you have anything to return to?”

“My work.”

“Your work.”

There was an awkward silence before Trevor spoke, “I suppose you might have something to run from now... technically,”

Belfus paused, looking at him, “I do?”

“Well, Fez made a good point... you did tell Poffers that you were coming with me to investigate something magical. If you go back without the two of us, the college isn't going to care much for it. I didn't think about it before because I assumed we'd all be going back together but returning alone wouldn't be a good idea,”

“Ah. Yes,” Belfus looked thoughtful, “You do have a good point there...” he huffed, “Well then. We are a bit stuck aren't we? What do you want from me dragon? I am as you see, a simple guard of the wall, of limited use to a being such as yourself. I do not know what you could gain from signing any contract with me. But clearly, I cannot simply return to the wall without my friends here. I could attempt to slay you in order to free them but... I sense that would be a more difficult task than your size indicates. It also raises the issue that they do not appear to want to be freed as you offer them more than the college would,” he raised his shoulders in an exaggerated shrug. “I am at a loss for suggestions.”

The dragon licked his nose thoughtfully, and Coyne thought he saw just a glimmer of mischief in the reptile's eye as he spoke once more. “Perhaps you could be made more useful.”

“How do you mean?”

“You are, as you say, just a man. Are you content as such? Have you ever considered being something else?”

Belfus grimaced, “It seems to me than being anything else leaves one at something of a... disadvantage in our present world. Animals and magical creatures are hunted for resources or weapons... I would be a fool to want that.”

Fez smiled, “Ah but you see these things only through the eyes of a human. You see only one side of the story. Being anything else is freedom from your rules and regulations. It is licence to go where and when you wish...”

“Anywhere except over the wall...”

“You say that but look... here I am, a magical creature who a short time ago crossed the wall.”

“What exactly are you proposing,” Trevor spoke up, visibly suspicious, “You're starting to sound like the tricky dragons we're always warned about. Everyone else got a fair deal... why should Belfus have to change?”

Fez held up his hands, “Merely something to think about. There is time yet before he has to make his decision. It is not as though I have the means to change him into anything else at this time anyway. I shall make out your contract Trevor, and a simple one for you,” he looked at Belfus, “For the time being a short term one only agreeing to not stab anyone or tell anyone about any of this... is that reasonable for everyone?”

Coyne could tell the dragon was tired, and just wanted to rest before he properly dealt with this conundrum. He gently ran a finger down the small creature's back in a stroke, the same way one would stroke a cat, “You have the energy for this?”

Fez stretched under the stroke, nodding. “I do. But after this I will need you to take control for a while, put me away safely and resume our journey, for I will be too tired to be of much help, We are changing our course a little bit, but I will supply you that knowledge once we have resolved things here. Can you handle that?”

“Yes,” said Coyne, nodding.

“Good,” Fez straightened up, returning again to his human form in a puff of purple smoke, “So... to business,” he said, summoning a scroll from the air, and starting to work on yet another contract.

They sat in awkward quiet as Fez wrote up two scrolls. One quite long, the other relatively short, and on what appeared to be much lower quality parchment. When offered to the two men, the magical documents immediately adjusted their size to scale, allowing Trevor and Belfus to read.

“Seems a little simple...” said Belfus, turning his in his hands, “Just says I won't harm you, your associates or tell anyone about any of this until a new contract is forged or two weeks pass, whichever happens sooner.”

“Well... we have yet to come to a deal. All I need is an assurance of your trustworthiness until we do,” said Fez, “It does not need to be elaborate.”

Belfus shrugged, “Seems reasonable to me.”

Fez nodded, “And you?”

Trevor, finishing his reading, pointed to some writing at the bottom of the page, 'smallprint' if you will. “What about this? It says 'Upon signing I agree that any additional magical procedures required by Mylfeziah to proceed with his journey will become immediately active' that seems bad... what does that mean?”

“Oh that's on mine too,” said Belfus, pointing.

“Oh, that's just a caveat to ensure any magic you have active at the moment that would affect our ability to continue will be dispelled by an alternative magic,” said the dragon, waving a hand dismissively. “So... you will be immediately affected by a spell as it says but only one to ensure we may all continue in peace,”

“Sounds... reasonable...” said Trevor, his eyes narrowed to slits at the dragon, still suspicious.

“If that is agreeable, hold your contracts out to me for a moment...” said the dragon, using a nail to cut the side of his finger.

They both did so, and he skilfully flicked a drop of blood onto each, “Now you do the same,” he said.

Belfus frowned a little, but took a small dagger from his waistband and made a tiny cut on his finger, dropping it onto the page.

Trevor used his shapeshifting to change just his teeth to sharp points, bit a small cut on the side of his hand, and squeezed a drop onto the paper.

Both contracts sizzled and hissed before rolling and returning to Fez, who caught them, and filed them back into nothingness with a flourish of his hand. “Excellent,” he said, folding his hands, “Now just a moment and the spell will activate. Don't worry, it can be a little dizzying at first but... you're quite safe.”

Coyne's brow furrowed a little bit. Dizzying... surely Fez wasn't going to... he blinked as both men were suddenly engulfed in purple magic, disappearing immediately. “You didn't...” he said to Fez. “More?!”

Fez, changing back into his dragon form, gave a toothy grin to the mimic. “Sorry Coyne... it's much easier to travel this way.”

A moment later the magic faded, and the two men were revealed, still on their rocks, but tiny now, like Alan.

“Oh he's not going to like this...” warned the other mage, “You should probably have said to them that this is what you were going to do...”

Coyne sighed, moving Alan and Fez onto the rock and standing, reaching out to gently scoop the two small bodies closer and gently bring them to rest beside Alan. He could see they were both very much alive, but stunned from the change. “I really hope you never do that to me,” he said, looking at Fez.

“Of course not. Not at the moment anyway, I need SOMEONE reliable out there to drive,” said the dragon with a smile. It was a weary smile though. Coyne could tell the dragon had used the last of his energy on this, and was ready for rest.

“WHAT?!” Trevor was awake.

“Shh, it's okay,” said Alan, quickly kneeling beside the other mage, “You're okay,”

“Alan... I'm tiny...” said the druid, looking accusingly at Fez. “You didn't say this would be the magic that would activate,”

Fez smiled, “I didn't say it wasn't,”

“Oh for goodness sake...” Belfus sat up with a groan, “We both fell for that one didn't we?”

“We do only have one horse,” said Coyne, “I suppose it would have been problematic to carry on any other way...”

“I am a druid,” said Trevor, standing up, staggering a little, “I am literally a portable horse,”

“Granted,” said Fez, flopping up onto Coyne's lap, “But you are also tired are you not? The chase all this way to find us, using your powers to scare Coyne as a bear?”

Trevor scowled, “I could do more...”

“But you do not have to. Now we can all rest, and trust Coyne to continue our journey.”

“Rest like this? Are you mad? We're in danger from just about everything now...” said Trevor, his eyes on the sky above them, checking for predatory birds.

“Oh...” Alan's eyes widened as he realised they didn't yet know about where the dragon intended for them all to travel, “Trevor... it... kinda gets worse yet...”

“Worse?!” exclaimed the druid.

“Yeah... you remember how Fez was saying he needed to be smuggled past the wall? Well... he has an... unusual way of travelling with Coyne...”

“Unusual?”

“Unusual...”

Fez smiled broadly, looking up at Coyne, “Why don't you demonstrate? I am quite ready for some rest.”

“What if they don't want to join you?”

“They can ride in your coinpurse if they really prefer it,” he glanced at the two men, “But I wouldn't recommend that, it's not comfortable.”

Coyne sighed, gently scooping the small creature up and opening his mouth. Fez felt limp in his hands, tired and floppy once again, and he knew the dragon badly needed some sleep to regain some of his spent magic. For someone who hadn't had to wrangle even one assistant for a while, taking on three... and a maybe, had been a lot of magic for him. He gently stroked along the dragon's back again and started to ease him into his mouth. Fez helped, heaving himself forwards, his slender head and neck plunging deeper, seeking out that safety he was growing increasingly familiar with.

Trevor let out a gasp of disgust and surprise as he saw this, the dragon's small form swiftly squirming itself into the mimic, whose neck bulged with the shapes of the powerful little body as they slipped beneath the flesh. As soon as one hand was free, Coyne raised it to conceal this as much as he could, but Trevor had seen quite enough, and turned to Alan. “No.”

Alan, part mesmerised by the horror of the process, blinked, “Hm?”

“No. Nope. No thank you. I will take the coin pouch.”

“It's pretty uncomfortable in there,” said Alan, “I was kept there when I was first taken and... it wasn't a lot of fun.”

“I think I will take 'not a lot of fun' over being eaten,” said Trevor.

“I think I'm with Trevor on this one,” agreed Belfus, “This does not seem safe at all...”

“It is... Coyne isn't like you and I... he doesn't eat food in a traditional sense. He can't really digest anything so... no acid. It's basically just a storage pocket for him,” Alan tried to explain.

“What... exactly is he anyway?” asked Trevor, “The dragon said he was unique... but he just looks like some guy.”

“He's... well... he's complicated,” said Alan, not quite feeling right trying to explain to them on Coyne's behalf... he did not yet know the man well enough to make that assumption. “But he's nice, and really quite kind from what I've seen...”

Trevor frowned a little as he looked up at the man, seeing him now looking shyly at the ground, a hand on his stomach as the small dragon completed his trip down. The cloth over the area tightened visibly as Fez settled in, and Coyne hesitantly looked at them, “Sorry... I know that's weird to watch... but I have to protect him and he's tired now...”

Alan came forwards a little, and Coyne extended a hand in an almost automatic movement, allowing the small mage to step up onto it. “It really is safe,” said Alan, “If you won't join us, you can ride in the coin pouch but... don't come crying to me when you have a bad back.”

“Wait... you're not going to...” Trevor began to exclaim, but fell silent as Coyne lifted Alan to his mouth and gently, shyly opened it to allow to tiny mage to clamber in of his own free will.

Coyne, knowing they needed to get moving again, felt a light touch on his palate, the tiny press confirming the mage was ready, and he closed his mouth to swallow. The small body felt like a mere snack compared to Fez, and took almost no effort for him, easily sliding down in a few gulps to join the much more substantial weight in his belly. He quickly saw the others still staring at him and blushed, “Sorry,” he repeated, “I know... it's... weird. But they're safe and warm... it's that or...” he drew the coin pouch from around his neck and showed them. “I don't really have any other accommodations at the moment...”

Trevor was still stunned into silence after watching his friend get reduced to a mouthful, and even when his choices were laid out before him, he didn't manage to recover his voice. He just stumbled silently to the offered pouch, climbed in and slid to the bottom of it, his jaw half-agape the entire time.

“Right... well then...” Coyne looked at Belfus, “And you?”

The solder stood with his arms folded for a long moment, considering this, “I say... it's a jolly tough choice...” he admitted, “Don't you have a... pocket or anything softer?”

“No...” admitted Coyne, “When I bought these clothes I honestly didn't know this was what I'd be doing or I might have thought about it... for now this is all I have.”

Belfus sighed, “I suppose I'd better stay with Thenore... sorry... Trevor. He's struggling with this, and I think I might be as well... a little touch of shock at...” he gestured vaguely, “all this.”

“I think I can understand that...” agreed Coyne. After all, just a week ago he'd been scraping about in the dirt begging for coins and looking at the end of his life. “I know it's a lot to take in, if you guys need anything you can shout for me,” he offered a hand to help the soldier climb into the pouch.

Belfus seemed to consider him for a moment before giving a satisfied nod, using the offered hand to climb up and into the small space, sliding down beside Trevor, who was muttering to himself.

Coyne gently closed the purse and tucked it back into his shirt before sliding off the rock with an 'oof,' his belly weighing him down as he went to Bubbles. As they had been waiting for the druid to catch up and after feeding Fez, he had put a little time into cutting her mane with his little dagger. He hadn't gone overboard, just trimming the front up to a length that allowed her to see. She still needed a lot more grooming overall but... seemed glad that now she could actively hunt out thistles for herself with a bit more ease.

He carefully took her reigns, and used a nearby rock to clamber up onto the enormous animal before heading her back towards the road. He gently ran a hand over his stomach, “Fez... you haven't told me what our new destination is... where am I going?”

There was a sleepy movement as the dragon squirmed against his hand, waking up just enough to send him a brief image in his mind. It was just a snippet of knowledge, barely a memory, sped up to its key moment... flying... soaring high above the forest, this forest, but long ago, when the land had been a lot less populated, and before the wall had existed. He could see everything below him, spread out like a map... but the focus was on a clearing deep in the forest... that was where they were going now.

Coyne frowned a bit, looking around. Trees. Trees. Few more trees... the only recognisable feature in the land was the quarry he had just left... and that was more recent than the memory Fez had given him. He needed to get his bearings using something he could see. Sighing, he started to steer Bubbles along the road, starting to compare rock formations to the vague map in his head, looking for something he could use. “You could have been a little more helpful,” he said softly to himself, stroking his stomach gently, knowing full well that Fez was too tired to have done anything more.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

<<First || Previous || Masterlist || Next>>

And so the group is finally all together and on their way.

Fez has gone from having zero assistants to having three in a matter of days.

A reminder that owning an assistant is a long term commitment, and they require a lot of care and hard work to train.

Don't be like Fez. He has no idea what he's getting into.

[hiding1ntheforest]

Horse Sacrifice, Symbolism, & Mythology of the Anglo-Saxons

Germanic horse sacrifice has it’s roots in a similar cultural practice of the Indo-Europeans, which originated in the Eurasian Steppe and eventually expanded Westward. Matter of fact, the earliest discovered horse burial dates back to approximately the 4th century BC in what is modern day Ukraine. The Eurasian Steppe also happens to be where horses were first domesticated 6000 years ago. It is likely that the horse sacrifice present amongst the Indo-Europeans traces back even further to the Proto-Indo-European peoples. Horses first began to be used in Britain during the Bronze Age, in which they were used to carry carts. Throughout the Iron Age, horses were utilized to transport goods during battle, a custom that survived among the Anglo-Saxons. Within the past few decades, several excavations have unearthed fascinating horse burials indicating ritualistic horse worship, as well as suggesting the existence of a horse cult. This post delves into the many burials, mythology, and worship of horses amongst the Anglo-Saxons.

Connection to the Gods

The spiritual significance of horses was greatly recognized by our Germanic ancestors. They were of course crucial for their physical capabilities, but the Germanic peoples viewed them as links to the divine and possessors of sacred knowledge. Tacitus discusses this in his work Germania, claiming that the Germanic peoples divined the future from the neighing of horses. Furthermore, Tacitus beautifully explains the attentive treatment of these animals: “These [horses] are nourished by the State in the same sacred woods and groves, all milk-white and employed in no earthly labour.” This description certainly asserts the prized status of horses within Germanic society. In the Vedic religion, Hayagriva was a horse headed god mostly associated with wisdom, who is also Vishnu incarnate. Those with educational aspirations or hopes to obtain higher knowledge would have worshipped Hayagriva. The concept of horses being creatures of spiritual wisdom is very much an Indo-European belief. Additionally, there are a plethora of horses mentioned in the Sagas. The most notable is Sleipnir, Woden’s eight legged horse who travels to Hel in Baldrs draumar. Most of the gods have their own horses, and the valkyries ride down to battlefields to collect the slain while mounted on them. The horse Grani in the Volsunga Saga is said to be related to Woden’s majestic horse. The Anglo-Saxons may have believed that horses also had the ability to traverse transcendent realms and were the means of transportation to the afterlife.

Kings & Warriors

Horses have long been associated with the ruling class. The majority of Anglo-Saxons did not own horses as they were expensive to maintain and there were a myriad of other animals much more useful in their society. Horses were instead reserved for the wealthy elite and times of war. The significance of the horse amongst nobility is certainly rooted in Indo-European culture. Ashvameda, a horse sacrifice ritual of the Vedic religion, exemplifies this. The rite aimed to validate a ruler’s authority and status. Ashvamedha was a rather elaborate event which made use of many men, animals, and other resources. Some horses were even selectively bred for the use of Anglo-Saxon kings during battle, as suggested in The Anglo-Saxon chronicle. However, it is worth nothing that it has been debated for decades whether the Anglo-Saxons used horses exclusively as a mode of transportation to battle, or if they fought while mounted as well. Regardless, the importance of horses in warrior culture is unequivocal. Horses take on more of an adventurous role in the Anglo Saxon Rune Poem: “Riding seems easy to every warrior while he is indoors and very courageous to him who traverses the high-roads on the back of a stout horse.” The rune poem demonstrates the brave nature of horses, and perhaps has a more arcane double meaning referencing a more metaphysical journey. It was also not uncommon for horses to be gifted to each other (again, typically for use in combat) indicated by several prominent tales such as Beowulf. A 10th century collection of manuscripts known as the Exeter Book contains a poem called The Wanderer, in which a rather sorrowful narrator reflects on the past’s events and lessons. The entire poem is filled with imagery of warriors in the mead hall, fighting alongside and honoring their friends, as well as the gloom of a bloody battlefield. More importantly, however, is the second half of the poem: “Where is the horse gone? Where the rider? …Alas for the mailed warrior! Alas for the splendour of the prince!” The poem not only strengthens the bond between the warrior, the elite and the horse, but highlights the introspective all-knowing aspect as well. Although a blatantly Christian poem, many scholars are confident that this poem predates the Exeter Book. The meaning of this poem and it’s imagery is very much rooted in the pre-Christian Anglo-Saxon warrior mindset. Additionally, knowing that many pagan beliefs were syncretized with the new foreign faith, may suggest that this poem is more pagan than one may expect. The Anglo-Saxons had their own ancestral horse gods in the form of Hengist and Horsa, whose names translate to “stallion” and ���horse.” The two brothers originated in Jutland, eventually leading the Angles, Saxons, and their fellow Jutes to settle in Britain. During the 5th century, the brothers arrived in Kent and later reigned over this region. Horsa was killed during a battle between the native Britons, leaving Hengist to rule over Kent. Hengist and Horsa are also descendants of Woden, as asserted by Bede and other royal genealogies- another reason horses are closely connected to the divine, prophetic abilities, and wisdom. Hengist and Horsa’s existence as great kings and warriors emphasizes the idea that horses are noble, honorable creatures; the totem animal of great leaders.

Horse Inhumations & Consumption

Numerous horse burials have been excavated across Northwestern Europe the past couple of decades. For the sake of conciseness, I’ll focus on three. The first horse burial worth noting is the Suffolk horse burial which dates back to 600-700 AD. The excavation unearthed the remains of a horse and an Anglo-Saxon warrior. The warrior was buried alongside a shield and sword, and scholars believe the horse was likely a sacrifice. The Wulfsen horse burial of Germany contained the remains of three horses dating back to 700-800 AD, and human remains were discovered in the surrounding areas. One of the oldest horse burials uncovered in England is that of the Pocklington chariot burial, which consisted of the remains of an elite Iron Age Briton, two horses, and a chariot. All of these burials acknowledge the large role horses played in the culture of warriors and nobility among the Northwestern Europeans. The muslim writer Ahmad ibn Fadlan even described a funerary ritual for a chieftain farther North in which two horses were made to run laps, then cut up and placed into a ship to be buried. Consumption of horse meat amongst the Germanic peoples also occurred, though it was not as common among the Anglo-Saxons. This practice was completely expunged from England upon the arrival of Christianity. Post conversion, the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle records periods in which horse consumption resumed upon times of famine.

Other Information

Horses played a large role in fertility rituals, especially those dedicated to the God Freyr, though I have not seen this specifically recorded among the Anglo-Saxons. The 12th century work Liber Eliensis claimed Queen Aelfthryth used magick to transform herself into a horse while behaving in a promiscuous manner. A story in the Flateyjarbok describes a strange ritual among the Norse where a woman sought out a sacred horse penis. Moreover, there is a link between horses and the celestial bodies, as attested by the Eddas and Bronze Age archaeology.

Conclusion

Horses were a prominent feature of the elite Anglo-Saxon class and warrior culture. A connection to the divine, Woden, and magick is made obvious by literary records. It is very likely that horses were vessels to the afterlife, perhaps explaining the several burials and funerary sacrifices featuring them. They may have even been a symbolic animal to Freyr/Ing cults and fertility cults across Northwestern Europe.

[shadow-wasser]

First and Last Lines

Fic meme: post the first and last lines of the last 10 fics you posted. WIPs are welcome. I'm going by AO3 update date, though some of these are very old fics. In this one, I'll be skipping two pieces that are not strictly "fic" - a fandom meta essay and a fansong.

The Land Before Sburb

First: From above, two beings observe a planet full of vibrant life.

Last: Meanwhile, the tiny descendants of dinosaurs curl up to sleep, content for now, in a slowly spinning world of Wind and Shade.

2. Guide to the Zodiac

First: The Prince of Hope, The Emperor, the Aquatic, The White, the White Philosopher, the Wrathful, One Who Leads to Rivers of Self-Knowledge, He Who is Evening and Morning, The Stormcrow, The Prince Who Sits Beside Worshipful Kings, Bearer of the Staff, The Thrice-formed Prince, the Adversary.

Last:  Rare is the one who escapes from this grip, but they are said to be richly rewarded for their efforts.

3. A Horse with No Name

First: Winter had fallen in the wood, the snow heavy and white.

Last: By sunrise, he was gone.

4. Crup of Hogwarts

First: Feeling eyes on his back, Harry turned to look over his shoulder.

Last: It struck him as strange and disconcerting that a wizard as wicked as Riddle would be kind to animals.

5. On the Formation and Occurance of Phantump in Paldea

First: The purpose of this journal is to chronicle my studies of a potentially undescribed phenomena preventing the formation of Phantump in Paldea.

Last:  Imagine that, a ghost reading about ghosts…

6. Into Thin Air

First: Your name is Roxy Lalonde, and you are about to break your employment contract.

Last: The next time you video chat, he's got a clown painting framed on his wall, plain as sober day.

7. How I Became Yours, Revised

First: The Iron Ostrich was not the fanciest nor the nicest of taverns the Earth Kingdom had to offer.

Last: Whether they would have regretted saving her was, by that time, a moot point.

8. The Last Earthbender

First: Fire. Air. Water. Earth.

Last: It is.

9. Avamorphs

First: I’m Sokka.

Last: I closed my lemur eyes, and saw Black.

10. Ill Wind

First: With the doors shut tight, the inner sanctuary of the Northern Air Temple was dark, and the air was thick and burning

Last: He thought of going back to the apartment, but decided he would rather sleep on the street.

TAGGING:

@wmb-salticidae

@madam-melon-meow

[robertleemurphy]

Bear Claws Audiobook Available Now

Bear Claws: The Iron Horse Chronicles–Book Two is now available as an Audiobook on Amazon.com. The audiobook is narrated by Brian James Stenberg. You can download the audiobook at: Amazon.com: Bear Claws: The Iron Horse Chronicles, Book Two (Audible Audio Edition): Robert Lee Murphy, Brian James Stenberg, Robert L. Murphy: Books  

[celestiamour]

‧₊˚✧ ❛[ silly block game ]❜

ft. lucy pevensie, edmund pevensie, susan pevensie, peter pevensie (seperate) x gn! reader — the chronicles of narnia

╰₊✧ playing minecraft with the pevensie siblings┊1.5k words

setting: modern au, no mentions of narnia contains: fluff & crack, modern alternate universe, they are children in the image but ages are unspecified (so it could be romantic or platonic), mentions of in-game player & pet deaths,

➤ author's note: i had a dream that peter died in my arms while we were playing minecraft and decided to write cute headcanons when i woke up like a loser

━━━ .°˖✧ lucy pevensie ˚₊ ⊹

╰₊✧ favorite biome - cherry grove, favorite mob - frogs, favorite flower - lily of the valley, favorite wood - birch, favorite block - moss

╰₊✧ she takes her time when it comes to completing the game and may take forever to get to the end dimension, prefering to play on peaceful mode so that she can focus on exploring and creating with keep inventory on since she doesn’t want to stress out about playing, enjoying everything it has to offer and will continuously pause on making progress to admire the scenery (but sometimes she turns it on easy mode to give her a little challenge when caving). oddly enough, even if the difficulty was on hard mode, she never seems to encounter any hostile mobs and they all decide to attack you instead while mining. it’s not an uncommon occurrence for her to tell you that she found her eighth patch of diamonds only for you to scream in response because you found a zombie spawner. she’ll manage to make it out of a pillager outpost without losing so much as half a heart while you’re looking like a pincushion, how does she do it?

╰₊✧ more of a farmer player who is mesmerized by all the different types of flowers and will have a goal of harvesting all of them to make colorful fields that stretch on for longer than your render distance will allow you to see. she’s most excited about updates that have new plants, wood types, and animals, keeping pets of all kinds even if they aren’t meant to be domesticated! her base is practically a zoo and is always full of life just like she is, yet it still naturally blends in with the area so well that it seems naturally generated at first glance. on a creepier note, the more hidden areas might have a skull or two placed to fit an overgrown and abandoned aesthetic, but at least it’s pretty with all of the spore blossoms!

╰₊✧ lucy hates villager trading farms with a passion, finding them too inhumane despite the fact that the villagers are npcs without sentience of any sort. it breaks her heart to see them in such cramped living conditions whose only purpose is for trade, so she’ll work on freeing them while you’re offline. she’ll spend hours upon hours gathering materials in secret to build a nicer village than the one they formally resided in before dismantling your system, with a good amount of iron golems to protect them from hostile mobs since she didn’t want to restrict them by building a fence or walls. (don’t worry, all of them are named and she’s kept a book on all of their trades so that you can keep track! the hard part is only tracking them down, but the big village is a thousand times better than the ugly trading hall you had before).

━━━ .°˖✧ edmund pevensie ˚₊ ⊹

╰₊✧ favorite biome - ice spikes, favorite mob - horses, favorite flower - torchflower, favorite wood - dark oak, favorite block - prismarine

╰₊✧ he enjoys speedrunning, the only thing standing between him and being on the leaderboard is minor slip-ups that cost the entire game. he tends to get too cocky, especially once he’s gathered all he needed from the nether fortress and prematurely celebrates before a blaze knocks him off the edge, so you bet that you’re going to hear him come up with the most creative insults you would ever hear over the discord call (not including swears because he will be scolded for his language by someone in his house). his best record of beating the game is around forty minutes, nothing to gawk at, but something that he’s very proud of after all of his practice.

╰₊✧ if it’s not a world dedicated to that, where he doesn’t need to build a base, then he’ll place down all of the essentials and call it a day without a roof over his head. it’s not like he can actually get wet from the rain or sunburn from the sun, so he doesn’t bother and just lives like that until you persuade him to at least dig out a hole in a mountain to keep away from night-time mobs and expand whenever needed. his scattered chests are a mess, by the way, you can’t find anything while he just spam clicks and glazes over the screen to find something in his strange little system. he insists that he knows where everything is and that organization isn’t needed.

╰₊✧ also a total prankster, but will never blow up builds or destroy anything of yours because he knows how much time you put into it for a minute of amusement. he likes watching where you log out and trapping you in that spot with obsidian, something that you can easily get out of with a pick but is still annoying enough for him to get a kick out of it. once he wasn’t sure where the exact spot was, so he spent an entire real-life night meticulously encasing the area in glass and then flooding every block of air with water. he wondered multiple times if the effort was worth it in the process, but he cried tears of laughter when you couldn’t get out at all since you drowned before you could break the glass and then swim out. it was an endless cycle of “died by drowning” until you offered him a chest of iron blocks for your freedom.

━━━ .°˖✧ susan pevensie ˚₊ ⊹

╰₊✧ favorite biome - mountains, favorite mob - foxes, favorite flower - rose bushes, favorite wood - mangrove, favorite block - quartz

╰₊✧ has mixed feelings on redstone, something that makes so much yet so little sense. it’s something that she likes to think that she mastered quickly, but you can always hear her muttering under her breath about how an entire contraption broke because of something dumb like the repeater being a tick off. she always covers up these machines with big, elaborate builds in a unique gothic style that you’ve only seen from her— although most of these builds are hollow since she doesn’t know how to design the interior, leaving entire towns empty until she lets you fill them up with various shops and villagers to make it feel more lived-in.

╰₊✧ refuses to throw anything away and maybe has a bit of a hoarding tendency, you cannot convince her to toss so much as a rotten potato into the lava because she “might need it in the future” even though it’s the most worthless item in the game. her storage system is immense and conscientiously organized with item frames and color signs while practically overflowing, but she has copious amounts of everything and is very generous when it comes to sharing as long as you ask beforehand! (as a result, her least favorite mobs are creepers because she needs to sort out the damaged chests before everything disappears, a complete nightmare)

╰₊✧ has god-like accuracy with any projectiles and has mending on her bow because she hates how expensive it is to get a new one with maxed-out enchantments and argues about how it’s so much better than infinity once she made the switch. you need an inventory slot with at least one arrow anyway, so why can’t you just have the full stack when you can always pick up more by killing skeletons? it may be a bit pretentious of her, but she might mock you that you just have a skill issue when she sees you being a bad shot before giving you some tips on how to improve.

━━━ .°˖✧ peter pevensie ˚₊ ⊹

╰₊✧ favorite biome - fields, favorite mob - dogs/wolves, favorite flower - oxeye daisy, favorite wood - spruce, favorite block - diamond ore

╰₊✧ from “the sky’s the limit” to “whatever floats your goat,” the game isn’t done until he’s gotten all of the achievements no matter how stupid they may be! he’s pretty serious about completing, but once he’s finished, you can see him start goofing off and being more ridiculous. unlike his brother who plays the pranks, he tends to be the victim of them and can’t get revenge at all because his traps are a bit obvious (lucy always helps him out in that department). on the other hand, he’s great at pvp and fighting mobs, best with a sword, and likes to start raids to fight for fun with the “hero of the village” effect being a massive ego boost as well.

╰₊✧ his builds are pretty boring and cramped since he never upgrades it as needed, his house is really just a box made out of planks from the surrounding area. he didn’t think that you could create anything pleasing to the eye in a game where everything is made from cubes, so you’ll need to open his eyes to the fact that he can construct whatever he wants and how the only limit is his creativity. he won’t advance any further than using two different types of woods and including cobblestone, it simply isn’t his strong suit and he would much rather spend his time exploring and slaying his enemies instead.

╰₊✧ he has so many dogs, it’s not even funny, you need to turn down the volume for passive mobs whenever you’re at his base because they are barking nonstop. it’s not intentional either, he just somehow constantly forgets that feeding them makes them breed and can’t ever resist not giving them some steak when they tilt their heads at him. he gave up on naming all of them since he didn’t have enough tags and dying all of their collars after building a separate home for them, but the original ones that he tamed in the wild remain in his bedroom. despite the number of dogs, he refuses to take any of them on adventures with them because he will cry when unnamed number two hundred-something dies after sniffing lava and holds a funeral with a proper burial place.

[sunnydaleherald]

The Sunnydale Herald Newsletter, Saturday, August 12th (part 1)

FRED: It's almost as if your essence is straddling a dimensional void, which may be the key, assuming that the amulet you used to save the world is some sort of trans-reality amplifier capable of focusing massive quantities of mystical energy. SPIKE: And what in the King's English does that mean to the dearly almost departed? FRED: It means that if I can defy most of the laws of nature, there's a good chance I'll be able to anchor you to this plane and make you corporeal. SPIKE: Well... might be a hug in your future after all.

~~Hellbound~~

The Sunnydale Herald is looking for at least one new editor. Contributing to the Herald is a great way to get your Buffy on! Find out more here.

[Drabbles & Short Fiction]

Walk With Me by Mirrored_Illusions (Buffy, Dawn, faith, T)

I Will Remember Trust by VoronaFiernan (Buffy, Spike, Angel, T)

That Bastard Beggar's Horse by batzulger (Buffy, Jonathan, Willow, T)

Realities by heckate (Willow, G)

Once More With Gallavich by LadyEkaterina (Ensemble, Shameless crossover, T)

Creating Lies in the Waiting Room by Hecate (Bufy & Dawn, G)

Summers Meets Summers by cjsmalley (Scoobies, Danny Phantom crossover, not rated)

Backstage 48: Listen to the Mockingbird by aadler (Giles, K+)

Walk With Me by MirroredIllusions (Buffy, The Walking Dead crossover, FR15)

[Chaptered Fiction]

Runaway, Chapter 7 by 19BBY (Buffy/Spike, not rated)

Distance and Perspective, Chapter 2 by Trace_Coburn (Ensemble, Jagged Alliance 2 crossover, T)

You Are Worth Saving, Chapter 8 by Kittenwritings (Spike/Fred, M)

Fuel’s Aflame, Chapter 6 by wickedrum (Buffy/Spike, not rated)

The Other Woman, Chapter 11 by aliceinwonderbra (Buffy/Faith, E)

Spiderwebs, Chapter 32 by Willow25 (Buffy/Spike, T)

Buffy The Princess Consort, Chapter 2 by MattanzaMFedora (Buffy/She-Ra, She-Ra and the Princesses of Power crossover, not rated)

Supporting Natasha Romanoff (and Iron Man too), Chapter 27 by SomeMeaninglessName (Willow/Natasha Romanoff, Marvel Universe crossover, T)

Your Timing Needs Work, Chapter 22 by cosplayermadness (Buffy/Spike, E)

but I’m bending the light connecting you to me, Chapter 5 by winterlovesong (Buffy/Spike, T)

The Year With No Slayer, Chapter 18 by Nonkosherian (Faith, T)

Father Figure, Chapter 5 by dragonwriter24cmf (Giles/Joyce, T)

What's Meant to Be Will Always Find A Way, Chapter 3 by charmed4lifekaren (Angel/Spike, T)

You Are Doing Great, Babe: Chapter 1 by buffyslayer81 (storylove81) (Buffy/Pike, E)

Divide & Conquer, Chapter 50 by Removes_and_Cleans_Glasses_00 (Buffy/Giles, E)

Infiltré, Chapter 11 by MissKitty28 (Buffy/Spike, G, in French)

Rewrite, Chapter 36 by hopelesswanderer (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

Seven, Chapter 52 (complete!) by Holly (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

The Time We Had, Chapter 51 (complete!) by Dusty (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

Those 2 again, Chapter 39 by Julikobold (Buffy/Spike, G)

the broken gates of kingdom come, Chapters 4-5 by disco-tea (Buffy/Spike, R)

Dawn the Vampire Slayer, Chapter 18 by LJ94 (Buffy/Spike, R)

Oh The Sights You'll See, Chapter 22 by Melme1325 (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

California Sun, Chapter 3 by To Be Hers (Buffy/Spike, PG-13)

Bloom, Chapters 1-2 by ashcrashed (Buffy/Spike, PG-13)

Closure, Chapter 15 by The Danish Bird (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

It Travels With Redheads, Chapter 7 by Traszgo (Willow, The Amber Chronicles crossover, FR15)

Undulating Flames, Chapter 68 by dogbertcarroll (Xander, suprise crossover, FR15)

Back to the Light, Chapter 2 by MountainKing (Ensemble, Doctor Who/Torchwood crossover, FR18)

Those 2 again, Chapter 39 by Julikobold (Buffy/Spike, R)

She Came Back Wrong, Chapters 11-17 (complete!) by Desicat (Buffy/Spike, PG-13)

The Alphabet of Spuffy, Chapter 18 by VeroNyxK84 (Buffy/Spike, PG-13)

Swipe Right to Connect, Chapters 3-4 by ashcrashed (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

Because I could not stop death, Chapters 1-9 by Desicat (Buffy/Spike, R)

[Images, Audio & Video]

Artwork: "You're in love with pain" by blushing dove (Buffy/Spike, worksafe)

Manip: Buffy and Spike by quillsparkle (worksafe)

Artwork: Can we rest by tubesock86 (Buffy/Spike, worksafe)

The new tattoos we got with my girlfriend! by sickmary

Fanvid: Dark Buffyverse - Monsters by SlayerVid

Fanvid: Buffy Summers - I'm not a robot by Faith Victoria

Fanvid: Drusilla - The Devil by SlayerVid

Fanvid: Tara and Willow- (Buffy the Vampire Slayer)- Stronger Together by Multifandom_Fanatic

Fanvid: Tara MaClay- (Buffy the Vampire Slayer)- Courage In Me by Multifandom_Fanatic

Fanvid: Tara MaClay- (Buffy the Vampire Slayer)- If I Believed In Me by Multifandom_Fanatic

Fanvid: Buffy and Angel - Walk Me Home by juliaroxs241

Fanvid: Buffy the Vampire Slayer Season One Edit // Wundatrip by Duskas by Sophie

Fanvid: untitled Buffy fanvid by Kevin Jenkins

Video: Best of Buffy the vampire slayer Spike by Spike.55 (Spike cosplay, in French)

Video: Buffy the Vampire Slayer S01E10 HD Remaster Colour Correction 3 by The Scenes That Made Me

3D character creation video: Buffy: Buffy the Vampire Slayer by SlidersOnTheStorm

Video: Broforce Broview - Broffy the Vampire Slayer by NoESanity

Video:💫 SC VI Fandom: Legends: Buffy Summers by OURWORLD TV [MA 18] (worksafe)

[Reviews & Recaps]

Bad Eggs analysis by coraniaid

ReWatch: Buffy the Vampire Slayer: S6, E21 - 22 [Two to Go and Grave] by kimannebb

My thoughts on season 4 of Buffy! by Quiet-Living8975

Video: An Unnecessarily Unhinged Deep Dive Into the Buffyverse - Part 1 by Monica Louise Bryant

Video: Buffy the Vampire Slayer | The Xeppo: A Xander for Zoomers by Cool Channel DreadTube

Video: Spike's Destiny | How William the Bloody Earned His Soul by 5ft Geek

Video: Retro Cheese Review Buffy the Vampire Slayer by Retro Cheese Review

Video: Buffy the Vampire Slayer - Season 1 Review by Let's Play A Game!

Video: Buffy the Vampire Slayer - Season 2 Review by Let's Play A Game!

Video: Buffy the Vampire Slayer - Season 3 Review by Let's Play A Game!

Video: Buffy the Vampire Slayer 1992 Review by Preston E. Garrison

Video: The BTVS Twisted Guide - Episode 6: The Pack by Twisted View

Video: Dead Things S6 E13 Buffy and the Art of Story Podcast by Lisa M. Lilly

Video: Shadow-Slayer Sunday by Jane Talks Buffy

Video: BUFFY: A CAÇA VAMPIROS (Temporada 2) - Resenha crítica by Resenhas Malditas

[Recs]

Fic rec: The Butterfly Effect by cousinjean [Buffy/Spike, NC-17] recced by spuffyarchive

Fic rec: Choices by lafillesauvage (Buffy/Spike, M) recced by gh-0-stcup

Fic search: Tara fanfic recommendations where either she doesn't die or is resurrected somehow by Used_Ad342

[Community Announcements]

Otherworldly Chemistry is a livejournal community dedicated to BtVS and AtS crack pairings and rarepairs!

Submit a link to be included in the newsletter!

[xtruss]

Archaeology: How Asia’s First Nomadic Empire Broke the Rules of Imperial Expansion

Ancient China’s mobile neighbors built an empire that’s attracting scientific scrutiny

Xiongnu Herders in what’s now Mongolia, portrayed in this painting, followed their own rules in building a multiethnic empire and advancing iron-making technology starting around 2,200 years ago, new studies indicate. Flickr (CC0 1.0)

— By Bruce Bower | July 2, 2023

In an age that spawned the ancient Roman and Egyptian Empires, Mongolia’s Xiongnu Empire broke the rules of imperial expansion.

Long before the Mongol Empire arose, Asia’s first nomadic empire, horse-riding Xiongnu people, conquered ethnic groups across the continent’s northeastern and central expanses (SN: 1/29/10). A common political system headed by Xiongnu imperial rulers formed about 209 B.C. and lasted for roughly 300 years. Unlike in Rome or Egypt, mobile groups of Xiongnu animal herders accomplished this feat without building cities, forming central bureaucracies, devising a writing system or mobilizing masses of farmers to produce food.

Today, remnants of Xiongnu culture largely consist of more than 7,000 tombs, some heavily looted and many yet to be excavated, in Mongolia and nearby parts of China and Russia. In the last decade, geneticists and archaeologists have ramped up efforts to study these sites and ancient records to decipher the Xiongnu Empire’s political organization and technological achievements.

Starting from a heartland in what’s now central Mongolia, the Xiongnu Empire (brown) spread across a large part of northern Asia, taking hold around 2,200 years ago. Naturalearthdata.Com/Wikipedia (CC0 1.0)

A few ancient Chinese chronicles include descriptions of the Xiongnu political system. These accounts portray the Xiongnu as predatory raiders who belonged to a “simple” confederation of herding groups run by a few nomadic alpha males. Even so, warfare with mounted Xiongnu warriors equipped with bows, arrows and metal weapons had inspired Imperial Chinese leaders to construct their Great Wall.

Some researchers have argued that Xiongnu people formed a lesser, “shadow empire” alongside Imperial China. But that view is giving way to a picture of the Xiongnu Empire as a different, not lesser, type of ancient state, says Yale University archaeologist William Honeychurch.

In this view, nomadic Xiongnu elites developed a flexible system of political power that connected mobile groups with different genetic and cultural ancestries spread across extensive grasslands and forests. “Elite lineages were not only an important part of a multiethnic Xiongnu state, but members of these lineages were sent to peripheral areas as part of state integration,” Honeychurch says. One new study, for example, indicates that Xiongnu women from elite lineages in central Mongolia served as “princess” emissaries to the empire’s frontier, assuming political power in distant territories populated by various ethnic groups.

“This must have been an empire organized around moving populations,” says archaeologist Bryan Miller of the University of Michigan in Ann Arbor. “Xiongnu elites were savvy politicians who delegated power to keep the empire together.”

In another recent development, excavations in Central Mongolia point to Xiongnu people as early ironworking innovators whose advances spread to their regional neighbors. These discoveries, and others, highlight the unappreciated complexity and the ongoing mystery of how Xiongnu society worked, researchers say.

The Xiongnu Dispatched Frontier ‘Princesses’

Initial insights into the Xiongnu people’s diverse genetic origins were first published in 2020. DNA extracted from remains of 60 individuals excavated at 27 Xiongnu sites indicated that two genetically distinct populations of Mongolian herders had coalesced to become the Xiongnu people around 2,200 years ago. One population descended from several western Mongolian cultures and the other from a couple of eastern Mongolian cultures.

Additional genetic contributions to the Xiongnu mix then came from farther away, most likely a culture near present-day Ukraine as well as Imperial China, reported archaeogeneticist Choongwon Jeong of Seoul National University in South Korea and colleagues.

Building on those findings, Jeong’s team then examined DNA of 17 individuals from elite and low-status graves at two Mongolian cemeteries on the Xiongnu Empire’s western frontier. Central Mongolia’s Xiongnu heartland lay around 1,200 kilometers to the east.

The six largest and richest tombs contained women whose genetic ancestry traced back to central Mongolia, the scientists reported in April in Science Advances. These women rested in wooden coffins placed in square tombs. Items found in these tombs included gold sun and moon emblems of Xiongnu imperial power, glass beads, silk clothes and Chinese mirrors.

Gold Sun and Moon Emblems of Imperial Xiongnu power were found among other elite items in a woman’s tomb on the western edge of the ancient nomadic empire. DNA evidence indicates the woman was related to ruling families in the empire’s Mongolian heartland. © J. Bayarsaikhan

One woman was buried with horse-riding equipment, a gilded iron belt clasp and a Chinese lacquer cup. These objects have previously been found in graves of male horse-mounted warriors. But such items signal that a deceased person had been powerful, not necessarily a warrior, says Miller, a study coauthor.

Miller and his colleagues suggest that the women had been sent to the frontier to maintain Xiongnu traditions and nurture contacts with Silk Road trade networks (SN: 3/8/17). Preliminary signs of genetic relatedness among individuals interred at one of the cemeteries suggest that some elite Xiongnu “princesses” also cemented power by marrying into local families.

The elite women’s graves were flanked by simple graves of adult men, and of girls and boys ranging from babies to adolescents. These commoners possessed greater genetic diversity than the female big shots. If the men were retainers or servants of female elites, they had come from distant parts of the Xiongnu Empire or possibly beyond, the researchers say.

Male Rulers Were Homebody ‘Princes’

Like these female elites, premier Xiongnu rulers had common roots in central Mongolia while their followers had diverse geographic origins, another team reports in the June Archaeological Research in Asia. But rather than being sent to the far reaches of the empire, these rulers stayed close to home.

Three male nobles interred in large underground tombs at one of the largest Xiongnu cemeteries, Gol Mod 2, spent most or possibly all their lives in the Khanuy Valley where they were buried, say archaeologist Ligang Zhou of Henan Provincial Institute of Cultural Heritage and Archaeology in Zhengzhou, China and colleagues.

Meanwhile, at least four of eight individuals buried in some of the many small satellite graves situated near the nobles’ tombs had spent much of their lives in distant places before settling in or near the Khanuy Valley, measurements of different forms of the element strontium in individuals’ teeth and bones indicate. Diet-related strontium signatures, which vary from one region to another, signal where a person spent early and later parts of their lives.

The identities of those in satellite graves, who were apparently killed to form entourages of followers that accompanied deceased nobles, are unclear. They include children and adults, Zhou says. Some were buried with metal weapons or luxury objects such as jewelry.

Genetic and strontium findings suggest that “Xiongnu political organization in central and western Mongolia was highly similar,” Zhou says. Then, as the empire expanded, rulers in the Xiongnu heartland sent select members of their extended families, such as high-ranking women, to new territories in order to replicate the imperial power structure.

Seen from above, a Xiongnu noble’s tomb, left, lies near a set of small tombs that contained his followers to the afterlife. Xiao Ren, Henan Provincial Institute of Culture Heritage an Archaeology

Iron Innovations Bolstered the Xiongnu Empire

From the start, Xiongnu imperial power depended on a ready supply of iron weapons and other gear that enabled horse-mounted warfare. Researchers who view the Xiongnu Empire as a faint version of Imperial China argue that the nomads’ power depended on importing crops and borrowing iron-making techniques, or simply trading for iron products, from the Chinese.

But new findings suggest that Central Mongolian metallurgists launched a regional boom in iron production around the time the Xiongnu Empire originated, says archaeologist Ursula Brosseder of the University of Bonn in Germany.

At a riverbank site, Brosseder and colleagues have excavated five iron smelting installations that contain by-products of iron making and burned wood. Radiocarbon dates of that material extend to as early as around 2,200 years ago, when the Xiongnu Empire arose.

That makes these finds, each of which consists of two pits connected by a tunnel, the oldest Xiongnu iron smelting kilns by at least 100 years, the researchers reported in March in Asian Archaeology.

Earlier research had established that people living just north of Xiongnu territory in southern Siberia started producing iron as early as around 2,800 years ago. Based on comparisons of finds in the two regions, Xiongnu metallurgists not only learned about iron making from their neighbors but also invented tunnel furnaces, the investigators say. Eastern Asian groups outside the Xiongnu sphere began making and using tunnel furnaces over the next couple of centuries.

Discoveries by Brosseder’s group “show that metallurgy reached the Xiongnu in Mongolia from southern Siberia, not China,” says archaeologist Nikolay Kradin, director of the Institute of History, Archaeology and Ethnology at the Far-Eastern Branch of the Russian Academy of Sciences in Vladivostok. Craftspeople at several iron-making centers, some slightly younger than Brosseder’s discoveries and others yet to be found, must have managed that technological transition, hypothesizes Kradin, who did not participate in the new research.

Brosseder suspects the Mongolian site she’s studied hosted a major iron-making operation. Four iron-making furnaces excavated near the other five have not yet been dated. And ground-based remote sensing equipment has revealed signs of at least 15, and possibly 26, more iron smelting kilns still covered by sediment.

“We can expect more findings of Xiongnu iron smelting centers considering the demand for iron horse gear, arrowheads, carts and other material by the empire’s large army,” Brosseder says.

No reliable estimates exist for the size of that army, or for the overall number of Xiongnu people, says Michigan’s Miller. Xiongnu herders, who also occasionally cultivated a grain called millet, moved across the landscape in relatively small groups that must have been greatly outnumbered by Imperial China’s estimated 60 million citizens.

The Capital Was a Seasonal Seat of Power

In the same valley where Brosseder’s group discovered the oldest known Xiongnu iron smelting kilns, Mongolian researchers have uncovered remains of what was probably a Xiongnu political center, or perhaps even its capital, called Longcheng in 2020. Consistent with everything else about the Xiongnu Empire, “this was a capital of a different kind,” says Miller.

Longcheng excavations so far have focused on a large building that may have hosted important gatherings.

Roof tiles on that structure bear an inscription in ancient Chinese characters that reads “Son of Heaven Chanyu.” Chinese records refer to the supreme Xiongnu ruler as “chanyu.” That royal inscription, the only one found within the Xiongnu realm, identifies Longcheng as a seat of power, Miller says.

Rather than a permanent site, Longcheng, like several excavated Xiongnu villages and walled compounds in central Mongolia, served as a seasonal stopover or temporary meeting place, Miller suspects (SN: 11/15/17). “We don’t know if those other sites were separate political capitals for the Xiongnu,” he says. Top Xiongnu honchos gathered for part of the year at Longcheng before packing up and moving elsewhere, he speculates. Xiongnu herders, regardless of political status, navigated animals to seasonal grazing spots. Staying in one place throughout the year was not an option.

Having a flexible, mobile system of rule appears to have kept the nomadic realm rolling for a few hundred years before the Xiongnu Empire rapidly disintegrated about 1,900 years ago. Why it did so is an enduring mystery. Perhaps the empire succumbed to combined attacks by Imperial China and other groups or, in true nomadic fashion, Xiongnu people reorganized on a smaller scale and moved to safer areas.

Still, “the Xiongnu had created a massive imperial network in Asia,” Miller says. “Their ways of life didn’t go away overnight.” For instance, Xiongnu-mediated trading by groups situated along Central Asia’s Silk Road routes continued despite military defeats in the empire’s central Mongolian heartland. Only further archaeological and genetic discoveries can clarify how Xiongnu people in the imperial core responded to those setbacks.

Whatever happened, Asia’s first nomadic empire can likely be counted on for a few more surprises.

— Science New, July 02, 2023, By Bruce Bower

[adamwatchesmovies]

The Secret of Moonacre (2008)

While I didn't enjoy this film, that doesn't mean you won't. No matter what I say, the people involved in this project did it: they actually made a movie. That's something to be applauded. With that established...

No one has ever read a truly terrible book and thought “I could fix this by making it a movie!” This means The Little White Horse by Elizabeth Goudge - the inspiration for the 2008 film The Secret Moonacre - must be great. You couldn't tell from this snooze-fest but I have to believe it.

After her father's death, Maria Merryweather (Dakota Blue Richards) inherits a book titled The Ancient Chronicles of Moonacre Valley. It tells of a curse cast upon two feuding families by the Moon Princess (Natascha McElhone). Sent to live with her estranged uncle Benjamin (Ioan Gruffudd) along with her governess, Miss Heliotrope (Juliet Stevenson), Maria begins exploring the grounds of the castle she now calls home. There, she begins wondering if the story she's read is based on some truths.

Seemingly pieced together from bits of other fantasy films and obviously released to capitalize on the Harry Potter craze, Moonacre is profoundly dull. The only "original" elements of this story are scraps the bigger franchises rejected, such as the Capulet and Montague-like feud between the two families - a quarrel that makes little sense. On one side is uncle Benjamin and the handful of servants he employs. On the other is the de Noir family and their soldiers - all of which looks like they come from the Middle Ages, despite the film being set sometime in the 18th century. At least I think that’s when it’s set. There are a number of historical anachronisms which clearly indicate the story is set at some point in the past but when? Who knows? Anyway, the villains have this huge army and aren’t above murder as their skull-filled dungeons clearly prove, so why haven’t they just taken Moonacre Valley by force? We’re probably not meant to wonder such things, as this film is meant for children and children alone, but you can’t help it. None of the characters are interesting and the magic is as captivating as the protagonist. You just kind of sit there, waiting for it to end so you can walk away while averting the eyes of anyone else who had the misfortune of seeing the film too.

This is a terrible-looking picture. The special effects are so lousy I assumed the engorged moon in the sky was unintentional until it’s revealed the celestial body is on a collision course for Earth - part of the curse set by The Moon Princess. It’s obviously a low-budget production so more forgiving reviewers might be kinder to it but not this one. There is too much time wasted on useless characters such as the possibly magical cook (who I was thought was some kind of elf creature based on the DVD cover) to think even a big budget would've saved this project. While we’re on that subject, take a look at the quote on the back! “The Little White Horse was my favourite childhood book” says J.K. Rowling. That’s the best they could scrounge together for the home release? Merlin’s beard. Did I really pay $5 to see this?

The best thing about The Secret of Moonacre is that its instantly forgettable. If someone ever decided to properly adapt it, no one would ever say "oh, they're remaking that movie again? no thanks!" No one - not even those who acted in the film - will remember this adaptation exists. I can’t picture anyone saying they enjoyed the film - even ironically. (On DVD, January 25, 2019)

[lrninglnguage]

A little more Brazilian songs recommendations

Following on from the last post, here's a list of songs that narrate a single scene, instead of a story, because I love recommending things.

'Tá rindo, é?' by Ana Carolina feat Seu Jorge

Yes, Ana Carolina again. I love this particular version of the song (with Seu Jorge), because Ana Carolina is already an amazing artist, and then she joins Seu Jorge, who is just so incredible, and the result is perfect. Love this two together. This song tells a conversation between two friends. It's a celebration of the resilience and optimism in the face of everyday adversities. You can find the lyrics in Portuguese and English side by side here.

'Conversa de Botequim' by Noel Rosa

Seu garçom, faça o favor de me trazer depressa Uma boa média que não seja requentada Um pão bem quente com manteiga à beça Um guardanapo e um copo d'água bem gelada Feche a porta da direita com muito cuidado Que não estou disposto a ficar exposto ao sol Vá perguntar ao seu freguês do lado Qual foi o resultado do futebol

This song is a sung chronicle that portrays the daily life of bars in Rio de Janeiro in the 1930s. The lyrics describe a customer making a series of requests to the waiter, ranging from a simple meal to favors personal, such as lending money and objects. Through a humorous and ironic narrative, Noel Rosa subtly criticizes the society of the time, exposing the trickery and cunning of the common carioca. You can find the lyrics in Portuguese and English side by side here.

'De Frente Pro Crime ' by João Bosco

Tá lá o corpo estendido no chão Em vez de rosto, uma foto de um gol Em vez de reza, uma praga de alguém E um silêncio servindo de amém O bar mais perto depressa lotou Malandro junto com trabalhador Um bêbado subiu na mesa do bar E fez discurso pra vereador

This song is a social critique that portrays indifference and the trivialization of violence in big cities. Through a narrative that describes a crime scene, the composer exposes how urban life can be dehumanized and how people can become insensitive in the face of tragedies. You can find the lyrics in Portuguese and English side by side here.

'Feira de Mangaio' by Clara Nunes

Fumo de rolo, arreio de cangalha Eu tenho pra vender, quem quer comprar? Bolo de milho, broa e cocada Eu tenho pra vender, quem quer comprar? Pé de moleque, alecrim, canela Moleque, sai daqui, me deixa trabalhar E Zé saiu correndo pra Feira Dos Pássaros E foi passo-voando pra todo lugar

This song is a celebration of northeastern culture and life in street markets, places of meeting and commerce that are vital points for the economy and daily life of cities in the interior. The song's lyrics, rich in typical Northeastern elements, describe the variety of products for sale, from foods such as corn cake and cocada to items such as cangalha harnesses and horse halters, showing the diversity of what can be found in these retail spaces. popular commerce. Clara Nunes was one of the greatest artists in Brazil. You can find the lyrics in Portuguese and English side by side here. By the way, the genre of this song is "Forró"

'A Banda' by Chico Buarque

Estava à toa na vida O meu amor me chamou Pra ver a banda passar Cantando coisas de amor A minha gente sofrida Despediu-se da dor Pra ver a banda passar Cantando coisas de amor

This song, composed by Chico Buarque in 1966, is one of the most emblematic works of Brazilian popular music. With a cheerful melody and a rhythm reminiscent of carnival marches, the song narrates the passage of a band through the city and the effect that this passage has on the people who observe it. The lyrics are a celebration of life and love, capable of transforming people's routine and state of mind. Chico Buarque is considered by many critics to be the greatest living artist in Brazilian music. I'm gonna be honest, I like him better for his songwriting than for his singing, but he's really amazing. I'll bring more of his songs. You can find the lyrics in Portuguese and English side by side here.