#also I made Tomb of Greed but that was not as successful as this one has been

[reallyexists]

Heavy Ordnance 0.3 is live!

https://reallyexists.itch.io/heavy-ordnance

[mishy-mashy]

Concerning the Witch Cult and the Seal in Elior Forest;

So I watched through the episodes where Pandora and Regulus show up in Elior Forest, and Emilia is frozen, and had some wonders

First, Petelguese, when he takes the Witch Factor, apologizes to "Flugel-sama". But why Flugel? Remember, Flugel wasn't actually considered anyone great, and was only known because he planted a big tree and carved "Flugel was here" on it

Then there's also the Seal that the elves protect. Fortuna says that if the Seal is unlocked, the world will definitely end this time. But, at this time, who actually can destroy the world? Even looking at the Seal's colors and decorations, they befit Satella, who TRIED to destroy the world and was partially successful.

The world will definitely end this time. There was a past attempt, and this was only ever done by Satella.

So I'm assuming the Seal is containing Satella. The key only appears to the one qualified to open it—and that's Emilia. The same identical half-elf that the Witch Cult believes is the perfect vessel for Satella; the vessel can open the door, and has the key, no one else. Methinks if Emilia opened the door, she might be possessed or become a martyr

Yeah, it's said that Satella was sealed beyond the Great Waterfall. BUT BUT BUT, REMEMBER, they consider beyond the Great Waterfall as THE SAME AS A PARALLEL WORLD. Yin magic can easily sever reality and space, and create a pocket dimension or open to a new reality, just by upgrading Shamak.

For example, remember Beatrice's Door Crossing? The Seal could easily just be the doorway to a pocket dimension like Shamak, and it would still be considered beyond the Great Waterfall.

What the Elves are guarding is the tomb of Satella. That's why the Witch Cult's docile faction helps out the Elves; the Witch Cult reveres Satella. The Elves hid Emilia from the Cult on purpose, but Petelguese found her anyway; and Petelguese sacrificed himself in an attempt to keep the Witch of Vainglory (Pandora) and the Archbishop of Greed (Regulus) away from Emilia. The docile faction definitely had a different goal from the radical faction, the latter which always chases Satella's vestiges.

Petelguese definitely knows something more about Flugel than "Yeah, he made a tree" because to the public knowledge of the Re:Zero world, Flugel is only a guy that grew a tree that happened to live long. It's only realized that Flugel is who the Sage Shaula actually refers to, by Subaru's party in the Pleiaides Watchtower; a place even the Sword Saint couldn't reach. As part of the Witch Cult, Petelguese probably knew a lot of the truth of Flugel and Satella, if he revered Flugel, knew the implications of an incompatible Witch Factor, and knew of the Seal.

Petelguese knows what happens if you take in an incompatible Witch Factor: some sort of insanity. Even Regulus warns him about knowing the price to pay, yet Petelguese still took the Witch Factor. Petelguese knows about Flugel, so he probably knows about the Witch of Envy VS Satella; whenever he refers to the Witch of Envy, he mainly says Satella. There might be parts where he says Witch of Envy, but he mainly says only Witch or Satella. Petelguese taking the incompatible Factor his own choice kind of parallels Satella's own incompability, that it brings the question: was Satella also forced to make a similar decision?

The Elves guard the Seal of the Witch of Envy. The Seal is technically beyond the Great Waterfall. Petelguese probably knew the truth, and Emilia's oddly the only person that can access the Seal's key; that's what I think.

[reallifesultanas]

What brought Suleyman I to Hungary in 1566? How did he die? What caused his death and how they preserved his body?

This post is a translation of this article: https://24.hu/tudomany/2020/09/12/szulejman-hurrem-turbe-szigetvar/?fbclid=IwAR2uhezx-9l3UutOZEW5j7VCTjYpNgcagNjx0W7xtJ3bzDCdetfvFScTDqI

The joint project of the University of Pécs (PTE) and ELKH BTK ends in Szigetvár with a Saturday presentation of two summary study volumes and the film Life in the Shadow of the Turb. The main result of the eight-year, multidisciplinary work carried out in wide-ranging domestic and international cooperation was the discovery in December 2015 of Sultan Suleiman's tomb in Szigetvár, ie the tomb (türbe) erected above the place of his death. Suleiman I (the Great) is one of the greatest figures in universal history, known worldwide, and of the 36 Ottoman sultans, he is surrounded by the greatest reverence in modern-day Turkey.

The announcement was a world sensation, and by no means only in professional circles: the international “lay” press also wrote for weeks about Szigetvár and the discovery of the research group.

Although this was the main goal of the “Suleiman Research Group,” looking back from today, it still seems to be just the initial, first step. Over the course of eight years, almost the entire complex, which included the türbe and was surrounded by a complex, was reconstructed, the settlement organized around it - unique in the area of Turkish occupation - was discovered and, they outlined the destruction of Turbék (hungarian town), the death of Suleiman, the fate of his corpse.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mjewdiFTdXk

Needless to say, the results have been the subject of numerous books and scientific publications, and about four-fifths of the area is yet to be explored. The continuation is almost certain, and we asked Dr. Norbert Pap, Professor of Historical Geography of the University of Pécs, the head of the research to look back for more interesting details.

Building complex above the tomb

The challenge in 2012 began with finding exactly where the türbe was set up at the site of Suleiman’s death stood. And this could decide a more than 100-year-old debate. The most serious theory put the türbe in place of the Church of the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary in Turbék or Turbékpuszta, as proclaimed by a sign on the wall of the church, while another in the area of today's Hungarian-Turkish Friendship Park. After archival research and the search of the area with modern geophysical tools, the remains of the buildings facing Mecca were finally located underground on the outskirts of Szigetvár, deviating to the right from road 67, near the dirt road to Turbék and Zsibót.

"Through targeted research, we first excavated the turbe itself, then the mosque, found the dervish lodge, the barracks, and the northern plank wall. The excavations took place on an area of about half a hectare" - Norbert Pap tells 24.hu.

The site of the türbe lies in a hill where the Sultan's military camp stood during the siege of the castle in 1566. In the center of the camp was Suleiman's tent, or rather a tent palace - more than 1,500 square meters - where he was temporarily buried after his death, then the türbe erected above from here surrounded by the other elements of the complex in a rectangular fortress wall.

The türbe became ready by 1576-77, but it was later built more (more parts of the complex) and beautified. It became an important and busy place of pilgrimage. For example Kara Mustafa also went there to draw strength at the head of his 4,000 horsemen before he embarked on the siege of Vienna in 1683.

The holiest place

In this capacity, the complex was really attractive to Muslim craftsmen, tradesmen, hopers for a better life. This is how from the travellers from Balkan, from the families of soldiers, the city of Turbek developed. Later, a Christian population also arrived - Croatian Catholics - but they settled separately, on the outskirts of the city, the civil settlements could only be identified in 2019. Further research will still have plenty to do: mosques, cemeteries, warehouses, Christian houses of worship, and the ruins of many residential houses may still be hidden by the earth.

Moreover, based on direct and indirect evidence, the professor believes there may be one more, but there may even be two türbes in the area, namely the mausoleums of Muslim martyrs. Sources suggest that the graves of Sheikh Kasim, a “holy life” who died during the siege of Szigetvár in 1566, and the first chief of order of the Turbék dervishes, Sheikh Ali Dede Bosznavi, who also died in 1598 during a campaign.

It is also worth mentioning here that although the body of the great sultan was laid to rest in Istanbul in 1566 according to its order and manner, his “empty” monument in Szigetvár, where he rested for only 42 days, was still revered in the Muslim world. The reason for this is that here, in this place, he suffered martyrdom, Suleiman became a sheikh, that is, a martyr of the faith.

Source of the picture: original article. Work of Nirbert Pap and Máté Kitancs

A thorough exploration of the city can hide unparalleled information for several disciplines. In the words of Norbert Pap, it is an “unparalleled, unique laboratory”, for it is the only known urban settlement of occupation that the Ottomans did not occupy and simply moved in there, but created themselves according to their own tastes and needs. Environmental history research has also been carried out so far, which already outlines the flora of the area reflecting the eastern influences, and we get a picture of the fauna that prevailed 450 years ago, which refers to the characteristics of a cooler climatic period.

The depressed Sultan

Let's continue with Suleiman the Great himself. The oft-repeated question about him is: at the age of 72, tormented by several diseases, why did he personally lead the army? Both external and internal factors contributed to this, and it must also be borne in mind that, although he was anxious, he was not at all as weak and fallen as posterity holds him in the last months of his life. It is true that he often carried himself on a chariot, but he did part of the journey on horseback, which suggests that he could not have had such a bad physique at the beginning of the campaign.

After the death of Hürrem, Suleiman became depressed, plus his family life was not in the slightest order: one of his sons was even executed, the other, the heir to the throne, was deeper and deeper in alcoholism. So with the years Suleyman turned more and more towards spirituality, the expert explains. He adds that the spiritual leader of the sultan, Sheikh Núreddínzáde Muszliheddín, had a great influence on him, he also played a role in convincing the ruler to personally lead a campaign against the unbelievers. He may have tried to get rid of gloom as well, but he was mostly trying to ease the growing internal tensions of the empire.

Constant conquest was a fundamental expectation from Suleiman, who connected vast territories to his empire and led 13 triumphant campaigns during his reign. By 1566, he had been on his throne for 46 years now — more than the average length of human life at the time — and the last years had been spent in peace, so the subjects grumbled. There were worrying news from the outside as well. In the eastern half of the Carpathian Basin, the Habsburg military invasions of the territories ruled by the Transylvanian prince John Sigismund threatened to lose the vassal principality. In the west, the raiding troops of Miklós Zrínyi wandered from Szigetvár to the Sava, endangering the safety of the Danube military road. Together, these projected the loss of the Hungarian conquests.

Thus, in a situation of domestic and foreign policy, military and spiritual crisis, the ruler had to prove that he still had to demonstrate a vigorous, powerful leader.

The campaign of 1566 was successful in terms of its goals, two of the three most important Hungarian border castles, Gyula and Szigetvár (Eger was the third), were awarded the werewolf flag, the vassal status of Transylvania was secured and the conquest was consolidated. However, Suleiman no longer returned home, he died in the last hours of the siege, at dawn from 6 to 7 September, around one or two o'clock in the morning.

He loved unhealthy food and had liver disease

It was disputed what diseases and organ problems led to his death in addition to his age, and this could not be solved completely. According to Professor Pap, several factors may have contributed, in addition to physical exhaustion, we know that he had severe gout, had problems with his liver, and could not benefit from his “greed”: He also consumed an astonishing amount of sweets from Ragusa during the campaign. In addition, disentery raged in the camp, which may have reached the Sultan also.

However, progress has been made during the research in what happened to his body after his death. For several reasons, it was very important that its deterioration and decomposition be postponed as long as possible, but at the same time classical mummification is forbidden by Islam. Since it is not known from any other sultan that his corpse should have been preserved, it has not been clear for some time what practice the Ottomans followed.

In the case of four sultans, who were left buried for a relatively long time, the researchers looked at how they treated their bodies and drew conclusions from them. There are several ideas about “treating” Suleiman’s body: for example, that they were wrapped in cloth, which was then smeared with honey and tar, sprinkled with strong perfumes to cover up the deterioration, but these ideas were shattered by the analysis of the book now published: that couldn’t be enough.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RXKbSDtHY5k

They had to keep his body in good condition

Based on an examination of the soil and climatic conditions, the possibility of temporarily preserving it with ice, which had worked for a short time for two other sultans, could not be attempted. In the soil under the sultan's tent, at a depth of two meters, the temperature was 12-14 degrees. In the case of a corpse buried for 42 days, any ice (if any) placed with it meant nothing because it would have melted very quickly. However, it was not normally possible to transport unobtrusively - without preservative treatment - and this was key. On October 24, that is, well over six weeks after his death, he was shown in front of Selim II, Suleiman's soldiers, his successor, and the leaders of the army in Belgrade.

“It was like a play, but a very essential act: Selim was surrounded here, taking over the ruling power from his dead father, before the‘ eyewitnesses ’of the masses. We believe that Suleiman's face must have been recognizable, and perhaps even dignified. Later, in Istanbul, 83 days after his death, after a transport of 1,270 kilometers, he was made public again before the final burial, ” - explains Norbert Pap.

The expectations for the condition of the corpse were obviously similar: the sight had to be bearable.

A forensic expert was involved in the research to clarify: could the use of available tar, honey, or other materials mentioned in the sources have been sufficient for preservation? The expert found that if they had not been treated with the right method and expertise and the internal organs had not been removed, the corpse would have arrived in Belgrade in a horrorist state, unrecognizable, practically liquefied.

The body was preserved by the Egyptian method

What could have happened? There are several indications that they used a method has been used in Egypt since ancient times. In doing so, the internal organs of the deceased are removed, and bags filled with salt are put in their place: in this case, it is typical to leave it for 40 days, the salt absorbs most of the moisture, significantly slowing down the deterioration and further decomposition. At a later stage, the body is filled with dry sawdust and sewn together.

We know from written sources that Suleiman was “prepared” in an unspecified way at the dawn of the seventh of September, then placed in a coffin and buried in a pit dug in the tent palace. Forty-two days later, he was picked up from there, “treated” again, and sent on his way to Belgrade. The remaining documents silently listen to the exact content of interventions that are not accepted in the Islamic world, but dictated by real political necessity. At the same time, the method used in the wake of political crisis management is very similar to the above method used in the Eastern world for millennia. It is not an incidental circumstance to know that Suleiman's body was treated by an accompanying doctor, a member of the old Egyptian medical dynasty, Ibn-i-Kajuni - so he had the necessary expertise.

Based on this, it can be assumed that the legend spoken in the broadest terms that the internal organs of the sultan were buried locally has a basis in reality. During the excavation, experts took a plentiful sample of land from the cavity dug into the temporary tomb and its surroundings, which is located right in the middle of the dungeon, two meters deep and two meters long - the chest had just fit. If human DNA is found in the samples, research could gain new momentum.

[wonderfulworldofmichaelford]

Psycho Analysis: Imhotep

(WARNING! This analysis contains SPOILERS!)

The Mummy movies are a lot of fun. Who could hate a young, charming Brendan Fraser having the time of his life fighting mummies and raiding tombs? Clearly this was a sign of a long, happy, trouble-free career for the man!

Oh, I’ve gone and made myself sad… let’s just cut right to it and talk about Imhotep.

Imhotep is the villain of the first two films of the series, and he really helps set the tone. Things get a lot less funny and a lot more darker whenever he’s on the scene, changing the tone from “fun, goofy Indiana Jones-esque romp” to a more overtly horror tone. This makes sense, seeing as he’s a soul-sucking undead monster based on one of the classic Universal monsters… but that’s really a very surface-level look at Imhotep. You see, unlike Ahmanet, the previous mummy covered on here, Imhotep has a real personality and motivations beyond being a simple villain hellbent on domination. In fact, Imhotep doesn’t want to conquer the world at all. He has a very simple, even sweet goal that makes him instantly relatable and tragic: all he wants is the woman he loves.

Actor: Arnold Vosloo plays Imhotep to perfection. He hits all the right villain notes whenever the scene calls for it: he can be scary, intimidating, badass, hammy, emotional, and even sexy. The last one’s a given when you spend a lot of the movie either shirtless or wearing a revealing robe, you know? I’m guessing one of the reasons the third movie failed so hard is because he wasn’t there to bring his own brand of awesomeness to the table, though I wouldn’t know because I’ve never watched the third film and like to pretend everything in the franchise ended happily after the first two films and there was nothing but Scorpion King spin-offs until the end of time.

Motivation/Goals: Imhotep is such an odd villain. Despite being a very powerful mystical being who could bring the world to its knees if he wished it, Imhotep is motivated solely by love. All he really wants is to be reunited with his lover Anck-Su-Namun, and he goes to great lengths to achieve this goal, lengths that do put him beyond the pale but also add a layer of tragedy to him.

The second film has him awakened by a cult to try and steal a supernatural army from Dwayne “The Scorpion King” Johnson, which ends up leading to him becoming far less sympathetic and a lot more cliche in terms of goals, though the romantic and sympathetic qualities are there still. They’re just now forced to share screentime with character traits that Imhotep didn’t really have in the first film, and while they don’t ruin him by any means and they help play into his ultimate tragedy, it just feels kind of sad they made Imhotep return and use him for a “take over the world” plot when his first outing had him really stand out as a villain in a big-budget action movie that didn’t have such a trite motive.

Personality: Imhotep is a pretty nice and friendly guy, for an ancient mummy. In the first film especially, he’s awful open about his plans to Beni and even keeps his word to him, and just in general he’s rather affable… unless, of course, you get in his way, in which case he will kill you without hesitation. He ends up dropping a lot of his more affable personality in the second film, which does come to bite him in the ass. It’s honestly pretty sad, because all that really ends up making him a villain is the manner in which he goes about his goals. Obviously bringing his loved one back would be a grim affair no matter what, but he goes way too far, with his desire to be with the woman he loves driving him to disturbing lengths to be back with her. In fact, the fact that he is such a loving man really plays into his ultimate tragedy, as he continuously suffers for love and in the end his suffering is rendered moot. Maybe villains who can’t comprehend love are better off after all.

Final Fate: In The Mummy Returns, Imhotep is clinging to a ledge and begs for his lover Anck-Su-Namun to save him. Instead, she flees, and Imhotep sees a similar situation happening with Rick and Evy; it ends exactly as you’d expect a dangerous situation with a protagonist couple to end in a cheesy adventure film. Imhotep looks to them with a look filled with jealousy and respect, and then lets go of the ledge, falling into the underworld. It’s a rather depressing and tragic fate that really highlights that for all the evil he did, Imhotep really only wanted to be with the woman he loved, and after all the pain and suffering he endured trying to make that happen, it ended up being all for nothing. It also ends up being ironic and karmic; throughout the film, he shows a lack of empathy for those serving under him, so it ends up being fitting the only person he cares about genuinely would leave him in his time of need.

Best Scene: Imhotep’s giant sandstorm from the first movie. It has become an iconic signature scene of the trilogy for a reason, after all.

Best Quote: So I didn’t exactly find a great quote from Imhotep himself on Wikiquote (my usual source), but I did find a quote from Arnold Vosloo himself that I think sums up Imhotep quite nicely:

“I’m so thankful that all that stuff made it to the screen, because a lot of the time studio executives say that there’s no time, or ask why we should feel sympathy for this bad guy. I joke that I’m the romantic lead in the movie, I just happened to pick the wrong girl. Imhotep is kind of the tragic villain, I guess, and a lot of people have come up to me and said I was hating you, but then I reach a point when I was feeling sorry for you too. It's those different facets that help explain why this film is such a success."

Final Thoughts & Score: For such a bunch of silly adventure films, they sure did go hard when it came to giving us a fantastic villain. Imhotep is, to be fair, not the most complex character in the world; I think being in a film like The Mummy kind of necessitates you being rather simple. But much like the movies he inhabits, he takes his simple concept and runs with it, elevating it into being something greater.

I love how he’s a villain not motivated by power, greed, or ambition, but a desperate desire to be with the person he loves most. In these sort of Indiana Jones-esque archaeological adventure films, you kind of expect to have the main villain or villains being motivated by greed, or power, or something to that effect, but here those motivations are relegated to side villains and our big bad is simply someone who really wants the girl he lived and died for in his arms again. It adds a layer of tragedy to Imhotep, which is only exacerbated in the sequel and then comes to his ultimate conclusion with his final death.

I think Imhotep really shines where a mummy like Princess Ahmanet ultimately failed: he has a clear, defined personality as well as a more relatable goal than “destroy the world.” As much as I enjoyed Princess Ahmanet from the reboot, my wife was right to point out in her guest spot on Psycho Analysis that her personality boils down to being ambitious and graceful, and not much else. Imhotep, on the other hand, shows a lot of emotion, even to his final look to Rick and Evy, which says so much without a single word being uttered. Ahmanet never really got moments like that, but that’s because she was stuck in a movie with an attention whore like Tom Cruise; Imhotep is in a movie with certified nice guy Brendan Fraser, so of course he’s gonna get his fair share of development.

IMHO Imhotep deserves nothing less than a 9/10. He’s the perfect villain for the cheesy fun of the first two Mummy movies, but he’s also something more, something richer than these movies deserved, and is emblematic of what made those movies so special and beloved: how, despite their flaws, there was just some magic there that allowed the films to rise above their simplistic popcorn action reimaginings of a classic monster movie to become something that even decades after the fact people still love and cherish to this day. The only thing holding him back from a perfect ten is the fact that the second film doesn’t do him quite as much justice; I have to say, the whole “world domination” thing looks better on an ambitious royal like Ahmanet than it does on a tragic romantic like Imhotep. Still, there’s no denying that Imhotep is a cool, fun villain for some cool, fun movies.

[mechawheatthin]

Campaign Diary #2

So instead of writing an important paper I must complete to graduate I'm going to write this. The second session of my long running d&d game.

So I decided to do a time jump and say that many months had passed and the party all have arrived at a large town called Lansi.

Lansi is built upon an island that splits a wide river. Lansi and Dabbersfoot (the town from last session) all are in the kingdom of Felden, a frozen nation mostly consisting of Human peasants and Wood Elven lords. Dwarves also make up a large minority and make up the skilled workers. Of course this is d&d so you can find any other race you would find in the phb.

With no real goal they decide to explore the town. They headed to the shop district where they found an open blacksmith. Two Dwarves and a Human are furiously pounding iron. The two Dwarves are dismissive but the Human is receptive. He explains that they are crushed for time because they only have a month to finish Baron Aewen's Drake armor. He is willing to sell anything they have lying around but don't have time to craft anything. He also mentions that the smelter hasn't come with new iron and if they got the shipment he would give the party half off on anything here. He says that they are simply too busy to leave their work. Riktaris the Minotaur bard particularly had his sight on a very nice set of half plate (+2). They obviously agree and immediately headed to the smelter.

The smelter was only a couple of blocks away. Upon entering they see that the man who ran the smelter was dead, blood was spattered against wall as he was slumped up against it. Someone casted detect magic and a magical aura was revealed that came from one of the many ore piles in the room. Upon coming closer to it, it animated into a vaguely humanoid shape. A glowing red crystal was buried in the center of it's chest. The creature resisted most of their attacks. Riktaris decided to cast identity on it. It was revealed to be a Galeb Duhr.

At this time the newest member of the team arrived on scene. Previously rolling in a gutter, he decided to join the battle. Sadly I can't recall his name but he was a Kobold bard of satire. Upon bursting into the room he casted heat metal on the creature. The iron ore that made up it's body glowed red hot. The Galeb Duhr was completely unphased by this. It then continued to pommel one of the party members and burn them.

After another round of unsuccessful attacks. The Kobold decided to cast command. The Galeb Duhr failed it's save and was pacified and at the Kobold’s mercy.

(I now remember why I couldn't remember the Kobold's name, it didn't have one. The player forgot to write it down and simply didn't respond to any inquiry of his name. Simply staring blankly at them if they asked.)

The Kobold commanded the Galeb Duhr to walk to the blacksmith. The populous was understandably scared of the creature but the party convinced the people that it was harmless. The blacksmith was amazed that the party not only was able to bring him the metal he needed by animating it, but that they managed to pre-heat the metal. The blacksmith gave the half plate to Riktaris for free and gave the rest of the party 75% off anything they wanted.

Also yes I am aware the spell only lasts eight hours.

The party than mossied about the town some more. Galadran the dwarf cleric stirred up some trouble at a local gnome church before being thrown out. Riktaris, and Saline went to a local book store called the Honest Tomb. And Drake, the human fighter and the Kobold went to acquire a room.

At the Honest Tomb they met the struggling business owner Beegsly. The shop was packed full of untouched scrolls and books. Riktaris came across an ancient scroll tucked away in a box. It was written in an old dialect of elvish that Saline could not recognize. Beegsly sold the scroll to him for a bargain price because he just needed the money and didn't know anything about magic. Riktaris than became interested in Beegsly's business. Why it was struggling? What kind of books did he usually sell? Where did he get these books? ( All things I wasn't prepared for.) I gave convincing answers for all and this made Riktaris, the Minotaur bard, to want to partner with him. Riktaris would promote his business through music and offered the idea of a subscription service. This all made Beegsly excited but also incredibly nervous. In the end he was convinced.

Drake and the Kobold had decided to check out the Simple Potato Inn. It was a converted manor turned tavern. The Kobold went up to the inn keeper and (I honestly don’t remember) said pretty weird and creepy things. The Inn keeper who was a tall High Elf was understandably freaked out by the creature. A hulking mercenary type with acne scaring caring a battleaxe walked up to intervene. The Man quickly got heated and opted to just cleave the Kobold in half. After a few rounds of combat (which drake was not getting involved with) the Kobold once again casted heat metal on the man. The man wearing heavy half plate armor instantly let out a blood curdling scream as his armor glowed red and caught his gabison on fire. He ran out of the tavern along with everyone else. Both the Kobold and Drake fearing that guards would soon come snuck out the back window and into the street undetected.

The party all reunited and decided it would be best to sleep at another tavern. They went to the Expensive Dragon. The Expensive Dragon was a fine establishment full of interesting characters. One being a Dark Elf wielding a spear in the corner. A stranger in these parts, the Kobold went to investigate this man. The E;f exclaimed that the Kobold could see him and that he has been searching for someone that could. The Kobold was understandably confused but played along. The Dark Elf explained that his name was Lord Solodin of space and that he needed someone to help him revenge the death of his son. He than tapped his spear on the ground and the Kobold collapsed on the ground in epileptic shock and slowly phased out of existence unbeknownst to the patrons or anyone else. Seconds later the Kobold phased back into existance and Lord Solodin was gone. Nothing had changed but he felt the unnerving sense that something was wrong.

Drake than went to the barkeep demanding their most potent alcohol. The Dwarf denied his request as no living mortal could withstand it and he didn’t want to see anymore young lives go to waist because of it. Drake being an abusive alcoholic was angry. He pulled his sword and demanded the drink. A Tiefling burst from the kitchen with lightning at her finger tips. The Dwarf broke down eventually and gave Drake the drink. He explained that it was used to sanitize drake blisters and had radioactive and explosive qualities. Drake ignored these warning and immediately drake from the keg. Drake survived.

At this time, a Half-Orc dressed in a finely made suit introduced him self to the party as Jacob. He explained that their future benefactor would like to meet with them. They promptly followed him to a vip room on the top floor. There they met a white and black striped tiger man. Upon a successful arcana check they figured he was a Rakshasah. He explained that he was impressed that they were able to defeat a Rehmoraz. He also proposed a job for them. Retrieve an item called the Red Chalice. It is located somewhere in the desert of Ruhane. Upon it’s recovery they would receive riches beyond their dreams. Being the greed driven murder hobos that they are they immediately accepted. More details were traded and the party signed a binding contract.

Pretty excited about their job the group headed down stairs to celebrate. At this time the the Kobold told them of the experience with the Dark Elf. The party was very confused with the situation. Than they immediately realized the Dark Elf was back. He had been sitting in the corner for quite sometime it seemed. They got up and went over to investigate. The Dark Elf than explained again how he has been searching for people that could see him. He then again tapped his spear on the floor and the party all dropped unconscious in epileptic shock. And than again they slowly phased out of existence for a few seconds unbeknownst to the patrons. However when they came back, having no memory of what just conspired, things had changed. Riktaris had become a woman. The Kobold was a gold fish. Drake realized he could not read anymore (although he wasn’t sure if that was the alcohol or what just transpired). A sword burst from Salin’s mouth that glowed orange as if it had been freshly forged. And Galadran wasn’t there (his player left before hand).

This was probably one of my all time favorite sessions I had DMd. A lot of crazy fun things happened. I do admit that the Kobold character was a little out of hand. And no I did not purposely turn him into a gold fish to get rid of him. I rolled on tables for all that. And he was lucky to get the one result that did nothing the first time he journeyed with Lord Solodin.

[thetimelesscycle]

The Hobbit Fanfic: The Heart of Erebor - Chapter 59

Summary: ‘He could stand the wild light in his uncle’s gaze. He withstood the crazed glint that entered the ravenous stares of his companions. He endured seeing the dragon’s greed take them all. But when that madness seeped also into the eyes of his own beloved brother, he knew something had to be done. He just wasn’t expecting it to be this.’-The gold sickness of Erebor claims one more, and the path of destiny is irrevocably changed.

Inspired by the following quote from ‘The Hobbit’: “So grim had Thorin become, that even if they had wished, the others would not have dared to find fault with him; but indeed most of them seemed to share his mind-except perhaps old fat Bombur and Fili and Kili.”

*Cover Art Courtesy of Toastytoastie

/THE HEART OF EREBOR\

ACT VI

-The King Beneath the Mountain-

Chapter 59

The Call of Home

Fíli had known before even setting foot outside of Ered Luin that the quest to reclaim Erebor would change his life forever. Without dwelling overmuch on the whispered doubts of those who had been convinced such a venture could end in nothing but disaster, he had sensed even then that the success of Thorin’s mission would inevitably rewrite the role he had spent the entirety of his youth learning. Thorin spoke of his old home too often, comparing Ered Luin always to its greater rival, for Fíli to believe that being the prince and heir of one would be the same as fulfilling those same duties for the other.

Such concerns had seemed distant things then, with the long road forward laid out before them and a dragon waiting at the end of it. What did it matter if he was ready to be Erebor’s firstborn if the mountain was yet to be won? Better to focus on the journey first, and worry about the destination once it was reached. Or so he had thought. It seemed almost folly now, to have not considered what he would do if they succeeded. Kíli claimed they could not afford to let their new roles change them, but they were already changed, and it did not take the Royal Council squabbling for days over things that would have been resolved within hours in Ered Luin for Fíli to realise that.

Despite the fact they had resolved not to officially involve the Seven in Thorin’s ascension, it quickly became apparent to all those concerned that there were a number of fairly important people who did need to be included, out of plain good manners if nothing else. Equally obvious soon after was the polarising difference in opinion as to who, exactly, counted as an ‘important person’. Everyone seemed to have their own thoughts on the matter, and very few of them were the same.

Bard was obviously among those who must be present, and the King of Dale’s inclusion was perhaps the only one that did not cause much strife amongst vying sentiments. The relationship between Dale and Erebor was critical to the survival of both, and mending bridges in the wake of Valin’s treachery was better started sooner rather than later. Dain and Svala had already done their utmost to make amends for the unfair accusations that had been leveled against the City of Men, and it was a simple step from there to include Dale in plans for Erebor’s future.

The subject of their former alliance with Mirkwood was another kettle of fish entirely, and quickly turned the discussion less than civil when Thorin absolutely refused to send any sort of message to Thranduil, either to request or deny his presence. Tyrth, of course, fully backed his lord’s stance when it came to the overbearing elf king, whilst Dain and several others sought to prevent a renewing of the old feud. Thorin’s adamance on the issue quickly led to a heated argument, and the standoff might have continued indefinitely had it not been for Kíli’s tentative reminder that Legolas had stood in support of Thorin’s cause outside Erebor’s gate, and that, were it not for Tuilinn, their victory would have been a cold and empty thing.

Still unwilling to have any dealings with the one who had so callously abandoned Erebor’s people to their fate, Thorin had nonetheless agreed to Kíli personally inviting Legolas… in recognition of the aid the elf prince had provided only, not as an envoy for his kingdom or his father. It was not the most diplomatic way to approach the matter, but, given his own treatment at the hands of Thranduil and his followers, Fíli wasn’t about to protest.

Though it was unlikely he would attend, word was also sent to Beorn, along with Thorin’s belated thanks for the part the skinchanger had played in the rescue of he and his eldest nephew. The courier charged with delivering that missive was to then ride on to Rivendell, with an invitation for the Lord of Imladris and another to be passed on to the Dúnedain, in solemn recognition of the shelter both had offered without thought of any reward. Tyrth, embittered still that any emissary of Mirkwood would receive an invitation, took a moment to question whether they really needed more elves meddling in what was strictly a dwarven matter, at which point Fíli felt compelled to intervene with a short, biting reminder that Elrond was half elven and the reason the entirety of the royal family was still alive.

To Jorunn and those who had remained in Ered Luin the news was sent via raven, a method that was also employed to inform the remainder of the Seven houses of Thorin’s return and imminent enthronement. There was some debate as to whether the latter was even necessary, but Steinn, speaking as a representative for his fellow houses, pointed out that they had a right to be informed of the goings on in Erebor even if their oath of loyalty was not yet required.

It did not end there, either. Almost as much time was spent deciding on the exact wording for each missive as was spent deciding to whom they were to be sent, and Fíli could not help but be impressed by the patience with which Balin composed the dictated words again and again until all were satisfied. It was tedious work, and if his forbearance was feeling stretched thin he could only imagine how Thorin and Kíli must be feeling.

Though, perhaps it was not only the task at hand that was causing his discomfort. Fíli was tired, and not necessarily in a way that would be helped by escaping the duties imposed upon him. He had hoped the weariness would pass once things in Erebor had settled a little more, but the constant unease that caused it was still his ever-present, exhausting companion. There were too many memories tied to this place, so much so that sometimes he could literally feel the weight of the mountain pressing down on his shoulders.

Thorin had not noticed his heir’s disconcertion yet, kept busy by all the trivial and simultaneously important things that needed to be seen to, but Kíli had. No doubt his little brother still remembered the fears he had shared during their stay in Nordinbad, and thought to use himself as a substitute for the glittering lake that had eased those fears then. It did help, just as Fíli’s newfound responsibilities did. Sometimes it just wasn’t enough, and a part of him worried it never would be.

He would not abandon Thorin to fight this battle alone, or leave Kíli to shoulder a burden that rightfully belonged to them both. Not willingly, at least, but he doubted his own strength. Doubted if his courage would hold when put to the test. When his mind turned on itself and shadows became monsters and Erebor a tomb waiting to claim them all.

A booted toe tapped against his ankle at the same time as Kíli leaned in close enough to speak in a whisper none would overhear. “Fi?”

“It’s nothing.” A lie. Did it count when Kíli already knew that? “I’m just tired.”

Tired. Sometimes it felt like he was speaking in riddles without even meaning to. The words he planned to say never quite being what he actually said. Kíli was quickly learning how to read between the lines regardless, often with more success than Fíli could claim to have himself.

“We have been here a long time.” The archer grimaced, flexing his bad hand as though the limb was stiff. “Do you want to step out for a moment?”

He wanted to say no. He should have been able to say no, to see this through; it was not as though it was difficult. But the idea was in his head now, and he found himself mutely nodding, listening in growing frustration as Kíli made their excuses – always excuses – to Thorin and earned his permission to leave the table. Thankfully, most of the others present were too engrossed in their argument over how long it would take to repair the flood damage in the guest quarters to pay much heed to the brothers’ departure, even with Fíli’s uneven gait ensuring it was not as fast as he would have preferred.

The Council Chamber was too far away from the Hidden Door to make a retreat to his favoured refuge possible, so Fíli set a path for the front gates instead, refusing to let the stairs deter him as he clambered his way up to the rampart above the wide egress. The guards on duty nodded to him as he passed – Dain’s men still – but they did not try to detain him with speech, and he reached the parapet unhindered. Kíli silently came to stand behind him as he drew in a steady, bracing breath of the crisp, mountain air, forcing himself to let it out slowly as he tried to quell the irrational panic threatening to take a hold in his chest.

He repeated the motion a few times more before the pressure slowly started to ease, the sun’s warmth against his face and the gentle touch of a mild breeze reminding him that this was not the deep shadows of Gundabad, or the violent, churning depths of a torrent threatening to sweep him away. He had triumphed over both, and still… still…

“What’s Bilbo up to, I wonder?” Kíli observed absently, gesturing to where the hobbit could be seen, perched on a protruding boulder downstream of Erebor’s front gate. Fíli squinted obligingly, but the Company’s burglar was too far away for him to venture a guess at what had drawn the Halfling out of the mountain.

“Maybe he’s grown tired of being surrounded by dwarves,” he suggested, only half jesting. Bilbo had been suffering the pleasure of their company for a very long time now; nobody would begrudge him a little solitude.

“You say that like we are not good company.”

“Are we?”

Kíli snorted. “I suppose that depends on who you ask.”

Fíli smiled a little despite himself, but his earlier somberness returned soon enough, dampening the mood Kíli had been trying to brighten.

“What am I doing, Kíli?” The archer turned, a questioning look mingling with the worry in his eyes, and Fíli shook his head, frustrated at how difficult it was to give voice to his thoughts. “It’s not getting better. How long do I go on pretending that it is?”

“You just need time,” Kíli protested, repeating old platitudes.

“We don’t have time,” he cut the other off, not unkindly. “This isn’t going to end with Thorin’s coronation. That will only be the beginning, and, for the first few years at least, there’s going to be all sorts of challenges and upheaval. I don’t know if I can… a lot has happened, Kíli.”

His brother was quiet for a moment, his gaze never drifting from Fíli’s own. “But what will you do?” he asked at length. “If you don’t stay here?”

Fíli shrugged, the gesture far more casual than he truly felt. “Go back to Ered Luin? I’m sure Jorunn wouldn’t mind the help, and there will be plenty of work to do there making the homestead safe with fewer to defend it.”

“Ma thinks more will come,” Kíli reminded him quietly. “When everything has settled down. Ered Luin may not have a homestead for much longer.”

“That won’t be for years yet.” Fíli shook his head. “Plenty of time for me to… come to terms with things.”

“Do you really think it will help?” Kíli’s face held doubts that did not quite make it to his voice. “Nordinbad is no Erebor, and still…”

Fíli turned away, his lips pressed tightly together. Kíli was right, of course. Leaving Erebor, fleeing to the familiarity of Ered Luin, would not change what had already happened. It would not be as fresh, perhaps, as ever present and undeniable, but would that make the horrors fade more swiftly, or simply act as a temporary bandage over a festering wound? He could not answer that question with any certainty. He had lost his grasp on certainty long ago, and sometimes it felt like he would never get it back again. Like he was lost in the dark still, pressed in on all sides and fleeing from gnashing teeth that snapped always at his heels.

“If you do decide to go,” Kíli spoke into the silence, and through his spiralling thoughts. “Then I will be going with you.”

“You can’t,” he said reflexively. “Thorin will need you.”

“Ma will be here,” Kíli countered, a familiar stubbornness ringing his words. “And you will need me more. I’m not just going to let you disappear, Fíli. Not again.”

Those last words were said with a shudder, and Fíli reached out on instinct to grip his brother by the arm, knowing the nightmare those few days after the battle had been for Kíli. It amazed him how easily the archer seemed to have bounced back from that torment, though a part of him registered that it was probably unfair to call any part of that journey ‘easy’. Kíli had fought his way back from the abyss of despair to rescue his uncle and brother, and had then swallowed his fears to return to Erebor and face the consequences of his hasty departure.

Confronted with such courage, could Fíli do any less? His heart said no, but his head remained a pit of uncomfortably swirling thoughts that refused to settle. Right now he wasn’t sure what he was even thinking, much less planning to do. Grasping for stability, for solid ground from which to take the plunge, he let those turbulent thoughts escape him to focus on what he knew to be true.

He knew Thorin was capable of ruling, of bringing the Seven back together, and stabilising a realm that had teetered for too many decades. He knew Kíli was more than ready to be a Prince of Erebor, supporting Thorin even when that meant disagreeing with him. He knew Erebor could be the salvation Thorin had always hoped it would be, providing a home for the displaced, and a bulwark for the beleaguered East.

He did not know if he believed in his own part in all of that. But he did believe that he would not have to face it alone, and maybe, just maybe, that was enough for now. Not to beat the shadows back entirely, but to make them bearable; a foe that could be conquered and overcome, even if it would forever be a long and wearisome fight.

“I don’t plan to disappear, Ki,” he uttered softly. “I just…”

Words failed him again, unspoken confessions scattering before they ever made it to his tongue. Was there any point in speaking such empty wishes aloud? He had done so before, they both had, recognising them for what they were even as they indulged the idle fancies of their minds. But he was Prince of Erebor now, and idle fancy had no place in this new world. He could not whisper ‘I just want to go home’ like it did not matter anymore. It all mattered now, another crushing weight added to the pile with no thought for the shoulders bending beneath.

He was just so tired.

“You’re thinking too hard,” Kíli told him solemnly. “You should stop.”

“Stop thinking?”

“Yes.” There was no trace of humour in his brother’s eyes such as he might have expected. “Stop thinking, Fíli. Just let things be for a moment. Stop worrying about Erebor and Thorin and ma and whether or not you’re meeting expectations as Thorin’s heir. The only thing you need to worry about right now is yourself. Do the selfish thing for once. Nobody is going to judge you for it.”

For a moment he simply stared, then a frown worked its way across his visage. “I don’t think that is strictly true.”

“Fine.” Kíli waved a hand dismissively. “Nobody we care about is going to judge you for it. Who cares about the rest?”

“Kíli.”

“No. They have Thorin, and me, and ma and Dain and Svala. They don’t need you right now.”

That… was almost insulting. “So now I’m unnecessary?”

“Don’t be a nyaff, Fíli.”

The laugh that escaped his lips surprised them both. “You have been spending too much time with Rin, little brother.”

“And you have been spending too little,” Kíli countered without pause. “Take some time, Fíli, let Rin show you an Erebor we can be proud of. I promise no calamity will occur if you step away for a few hours.”

Fíli mulled that over for a moment, considering, trying to stamp down the instinctive guilt he felt for actually wanting to take Kíli up on that offer more than he wanted to return to the council. Thorin needed him, and yet… “An Erebor we can be proud of?”

It came out softer than he had meant it to, a tentative question, but Kíli was already nodding. “Rin was here before Valin started ruining everything,” he reminded. “Seeing things through his perspective, without the taint of other memories… Even after everything that happened, he still talks about Erebor like we used to, Fíli. I… it helps. Sometimes, this even starts to feel like home.”

“It is home now,” Fíli said, as much a reminder to himself as to his brother. Oh, he could dream of fleeing back to Ered Luin all he wanted, but he knew it would not be the same as his memories painted it. Kíli had been right when he had said the changes were in them, not the land that had birthed them, and the battles he was fighting now would follow him wherever he went. He still did not know if he had the strength to win those battles, but he had the strength to try.

Kíli had made sure of that.

 ~The Heart of Erebor~

 Planning a coronation took time, and a great deal of it, something Bilbo was coming to realise with the slow dawning horror of someone who really has very little to do. As Erebor abruptly shifted from disquieting watchfulness to a ceaseless flurry of endless activity, the Company’s burglar was, for the first time since the quest’s beginning, left entirely to his own devices. Once upon a time he would have welcomed such an occurrence. Back when an unexpected army of dwarves had first invaded his humble home in the Shire, he had been all but ready to beg for it. Now, though? Now the solitude plagued him.

So much had changed since his journey’s beginning. He’d proven himself far more a Took than the Baggins he had once professed to be; travelling the length of Middle Earth and back again, fighting in battles, speaking with a dragon, mounting an impossible rescue from an orc infested keep... It was all rather a lot to take in, and yet now that he finally had a moment or two to just sit down and think he found himself quite unable to do so. Inactivity no longer suited him as it once had. Whilst he still possessed a lingering ache in his chest for that familiar armchair and his shelves of books, he could not settle for being idle as his friends toiled around him.

He had scarcely seen Thorin or his nephews since they reclaimed the mountain. Thorin had been understandably preoccupied with the future of his kingdom, and Fíli had simultaneously seemed to want nothing more than to be away from Erebor. Kíli had been flitting back and forth between the two of them when his time was not claimed by Dain or one of the numerous others eager to hear the exploits that had brought their King home again, and that had all been before the arrangements for Thorin’s crowning had even begun. Bilbo had briefly found himself a role in keeping a recovering Dís company whilst her sons were elsewhere, but she had been just as hard to pin down since making her escape from the healers’ clutches, fully enmeshed in whatever preparations were required for a King’s coronation.

Tuilinn had taken her leave of Erebor shortly after Dís regained her strength, to the relief of many an uncomfortable dwarf, and to Bilbo’s great disappointment. The elf maid had been in the midst of teaching him the sign language that she used in the place of her silenced voice, a project he doubted he would ever get the chance to finish now. Gandalf, too, had been strangely absent ever since the confrontation at the gates, vanished back to Dale or Mirkwood with Bard and Legolas, or off on another of his mysterious, wizardly errands. Bofur kept him company when he could, as did a few of the others, but Thorin wanted them all involved in the impending inauguration, and the preparations for that seemed to be claiming more time than anyone had to spare.

Not wanting to get in the way, Bilbo had eventually borrowed some paper and ink and excused himself from the mountain keep, following the River Running a short way south of the front gates until he had a clear vantage point of Dale and the banners rippling in the breeze above its walls. Finding himself a comfortable seat on one of the large, round boulders at the river’s edge he then set about sketching a likeness of the City of Men, something to take home with him when his adventure inevitably came to its end.

It would not be far off now, he thought. The call of home was already taking a hold in his many idle moments, but he was determined to see Thorin take his rightful place first. A fitting end to the tale he would write when he was back in Bag End, nestled up warm next to a glowing fire, enjoying a nice cup of tea and a small bite to eat.

“You look a hundred miles away, Master Baggins.”

Startled, he raised his head to find Gorin standing a few strides off at the head of a small company of dwarves, packed and ready for travel. Those who had come with them from Nordinbad, he realised, even as he rose.

“I was,” he confessed, in answer to Gorin’s observation. “And you look like you mean to be as well.”

“I would like to stay.” Gorin nodded. “To see this thing through to the end, but my father’s wishes on this matter were clear. We have honoured our debt to Thorin, now we must look once more to the needs of Nordinbad, and the secrecy that has kept us safe through these dark years.”

“You don’t think it is safe now?” Bilbo dared to ask, out of curiosity more than anything else. “I mean, Smaug is gone, and with Thorin as King…”

Gorin smiled slightly, a gesture that was almost weary. “I fear the dangers that my father seeks to avoid will never be gone, Master Baggins. Nordinbad is not meant to be a part of this world of kings and treasure and power. Here, there are those who would call us traitors and cowards for what we did at Azanulbizar. Who would mock the life we have chosen and dismiss what we see fit to call riches. We have lived apart for all this time, I do not think we remember how to do otherwise.”

“I know what you mean,” Bilbo said, feeling a sudden kinship for these dwarves and their desire to simply be left in peace. It was a way of thinking that was quite universal in the Shire, even if he no longer shared in it himself. “Does Thorin know you are leaving?”

“We have spoken our farewells to our King,” Gorin confirmed, then, with a questioning look, he added, “But what of you, Master Hobbit? Do you seek further great deeds to raise forever the name of Baggins, or is it the call of home that beckons the strongest now?”

“I do not know if I ever sought great deeds,” Bilbo demurred with a rueful shake of his head. “In truth, they seemed rather determined to seek me out, no matter my wishes at the time.”

“Is that not the way of all great adventures?” Amusement glittered in the dwarf’s dark eyes. “They do not knock upon the door, but crash in through the window, arms aflail and screaming at the top of their lungs.”

“Well, I am not certain even the Company of Thorin Oakenshield was ever that uncouth…”

Gorin laughed, a hearty sound, and offered his hand. “Well said, Master Baggins. You do your people great credit, and I know I speak for my father as well when I say you are one burglar who will be forever welcome in the halls of Nordinbad.”

“I would be honoured.” Bilbo grasped the offered hand and shook it firmly, then tilted his head to the side in sudden suspicion. “So long as there are no dragons involved.”

“Ah,” Gorin said. “But where is the fun in that?”

[seludiancitizen]

Crimson Bounty

Genre

Action-Adventure; Survival Third-Person Shooter

Concept

·      God of Love is the enemy – When talking about immortal beings, it’s usually the bloodiest of the pantheon that becomes the enemy. However, in this case, how violent can the most passionate and romantic immortal in the Roman pantheon be?

·      Monsters & People – Though set in modern times, there a few who are in on the secret.  This people can be allies, neutrals, or enemies, it’s up to the player to discover that.  In some cases, they may be monsters disguised as people.  After all, the God of Love isn’t the only one involved in this situation.

·      Roman & Greek parallels – The Roman myths are parallels of the Greek pantheon.  Therefore, many of the stories brought up and alluded, while using the Roman names, are actually of Greek origin.  Some characters remain with their Greek name, however, as the Romans didn’t change all of their names.

Play Mechanic

Puzzles riddled in an open-world.  Open-world is applied into the temples as well.

 Plot Summary

Ambrosia Kearny was in a sabbatical year when she learned that the Roman gods existed, and that she’d inadvertently angered one of them.  The one she angered: Cupid, God of Love.  He was losing his honor by not managing to get her to fall in love with someone, and it was now personal.  What’s more, Minerva, the Goddess of Wisdom and War, now believes that humanity is beyond salvation thanks to Ambrosia’s disbelief in love.  This will lead to Cupid having to put aside his personal agenda on hold and for him and Ambrosia to battle Minerva for the world’s survival.

 Platforms

Switch, PS4, Xbox, PC

 Target Audience

Young Adults

 Competition

Tomb Raider, Uncharted, No Man’s Sky, The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild

  ITEMS AND EQUIPMENT

 Key Item 1: Moon Crossbow

Short Description: “Like your own crossbow, it shoots two arrows at a time, but this one is blessed by Diana, the Goddess of the Hunt. Shoot when you must and aim true.”

 Function: While able to rely on other weapons and Ambrosia’s crossbow, it shoots two silver arrows at a time.  Because it can shoot silver arrows, it can harm mortals, monsters, and deities alike.  It also provides camouflage for its user, but only under moonlight.

 Appearance: It’s about the size of an average shotgun and even has the resemblance of one.  It has an antique feel to it, made with wood and metal, but modern to include a scope and laser to aim.  All of this to keep it from curious eyes of those who don’t know the truth of the Roman gods.  Under moonlight, we see its true appearance: made of almond wood and moonstone.

 Lore: Ancient scroll found in the Catacombs of the Stars – “The Sun stole the Moon’s only love.  It is then that the Moon took her love and placed him among the stars.  She hoped love for others would prosper and made a crossbow.  It will be shot one day, in defense for love.  Two silver arrows to the heart.”

 Key Item 2: Mercury’s Winged Sandals

Short Description: “The very winged sandals that Mercury uses to travel and deliver messages among the gods.  You must return it to him before he discovers that it’s been stolen.  Arcus trusts that you deliver it to Mercury in top conditions.”

 Function: While able to be used by Ambrosia before returning it to Mercury, it makes Ambrosia run much faster and for about a minute, grants the ability to run in the air. They’re also a sort of compass, the wing fluttering when something important is near or if there’s a nearby threat, fluttering faster the closer either of these happen.

 Appearance: Leather Roman-styled sandals, very well-kept.  The wings only appear when someone is using them.  The wings are white and are proportioned to the sandals, a set of wings per sandal.

 Lore: Arcus to Ambrosia: “Mercury and I, while messenger rivals, are close friends when one of us is too busy.  I only caught this thief just barely in time in my rivals.  Without his sandals, Mercury is powerless and won’t be able to not just travel, but leave certain places, such as the Underworld.  Such is the strength in them.  Careful in your journey, girl.  Many will greed for them.”

  CHARACTER PROFILES

Player Character Profile: Ambrosia Kearney

Purpose: Full-time bar owner, half-time cheerleader, Ambrosia Kearny has seen enough from life to believe that love doesn’t exist but is now forced to choose between her beliefs and the world’s salvation.

 Lore: Vesta to Cupid: “You’ve met your match, Cupid.  And I warn you, stop this madness.  It’s gone long enough all these years.  I have seen enough of her torment to understand why she has lost her faith in love.  And yes, she may be reckless, a smart mouth to bring her trouble, and her curious desire to ignore her inheritance, but she’s more.  She’s clever, quick on her feet, and is just as hellbent as you to fight you back.  She won’t let you win.  She has not lost anything in her life save her faith in love.  Nothing at all.  What makes you think she will lose to you, despite being a god?”

 Appearance: In her mid-20’s, Ambrosia is 5’ 6” with loose teased raven-black hair and blonde highlights.  Her skin is too tanned and has a birthmark the shape of a butterfly to the right of her collarbone.  She has gray eyes as well.  Trademark outfit includes a black and pink varsity jacket, green tee, jeans, and red sneakers.

 Barks

·   Tagline/Idle Bark: “If I’d known this temple was going to stink, I would’ve stayed at my bar during the Super Bowl.”

·   Alert: “It’s getting cold.  Something’s coming.”

·   Success Bark: “And they say cheerleaders only do pretty.”

·   Failure Bark: “I knew I should’ve been a spoiled brat.”

  Character Profile: Cupid

Purpose: The manifestation of the most sought feeling in the world, the Roman god of Love, Cupid, has had his challenges in the past, but is finally put to the test when he tries to make Ambrosia fall in love with someone, to the point he gives up his traditional weapons for something more modern.

 Lore: Venus to Ambrosia: “Cupid, my son.  He’s gone through a lot, and I’m partly to blame. He hoped others would find what he lost. He left behind his mischief and gave himself a mission to give everyone, mortals and immortals alike, love.  Not just the love of a lifetime, but a love that transcends lifetimes.  He is, after all, the God of Love in all its forms: families, siblings, friendship, and of course, romance.  Do not be too harsh, child, even if he is obsessed with handing you a piece of happiness from life.  Not even us gods are perfect.”

 Appearance: Though it depends what character looks at him in cutscenes, Cupid usually takes on the look of a late-20’s men with coffee roasted skin, probably 5’ 11”.  His outfits are between a varsity college-look to a business man.  No matter his look, he’ll always have his iconic angel wings, twice as large as him.

  LEVELS AND LOCATIONS

Description of the World: The worlds of Tomb Raider and the Legend of Zelda meet.  It’s huge and open to discover, starting from any point the player desires. It also includes several temples (levels,) that are to be discovered and explored to move the story forward, some of which to be explored first before moving forward.  The vastness of the world includes beaches, plains, forests, and mountains, with the occasional small town, and a city.

 Major Location 1: Catacombs of the Stars, secret temple built in Diana’s name.  It’s hidden in the most remote part of Tuscany.  It’s seemingly small from the outside as one small shrine, but is larger, three stories underground of giant pillars, statues, and coffins of fallen people, in this case, Diana’s beloved hunters.  At its deepest part is the honorary resting place of Orion.

 Short Description: “The final resting place of the bodies of Diana’s hunters, and her only love, Orion.  Only monsters and deities know the exact location…”  

 Appearance: Like in ancient times, the catacombs are made out of limestone and marble, though has several special places made of silver and moonstone, in honor of Diana.  Its outer building is small, a shrine of pillars, similar to a pavilion.  The main building, which is underground, is a maze-like temple with massive eroded pillars, statues of the most important hunters from Diana’s company, and scrolls that are in a good enough condition to be read, but most torn or simply gone.  There are also steles and ancient torches.  The deepest and main room holds a statue and stele for Orion.  All ceilings are decorated with constellations, assuming representations of the deceased hunters, and of course Orion.

 Contents: Most commonly populated with rats and roaches, among other similar rodents in the main shrine.  Further in, it’s littered with Chimeras and Cyclopes as the most common enemies.  Add on the certain traps that the player would be informed about prior to entering the temple, placed to catch anyone that might want to desecrate the catacombs by the very hunters themselves.  The gorgon, Medusa, would be our boss level.  The catacombs are a “level,” one of five of the main storyline.

 Significance: It is littered with plenty of traps, that overcome, exposes the puzzles the player must decipher to open up the ways further into the catacombs.  The boss is Medusa, who by revealing who sent her there, reveals the greater antagonist of the story.

 Lore: Arachne to Ambrosia: “I see you’ve gotten the crossbow from the moon.  Good for you. I heard that the catacombs were dark and quite gruesome, even for my own kind.  But I’m only here to tell you that the catacombs hold more secrets than just that weapon.  As far as I’m concerned, Diana wasn’t the only one to lose a love.  The reason she’s friends with Cupid is because he too lost a love.  Oh, you thought Psyche still lived?  She’s the reason he’s enraged with you.  For the same reason Diana made the crossbow, the same reason he’s obsessed with shooting at you.  I never quite knew how Psyche died, but if you’d like to know more, return to the Catacombs of the Stars.  Somewhere inside is a hidden passage to Cupid’s Temple.  Morbidly, there lies Psyche’s remains.  I hope it may serve you on your journey further on.”

  CUTSCENE: Roughly at the beginning of the game, we follow a strange encounter that triggers the Salamanca Pursuit (level.)  The cutscene begins after the level is over, at the outskirts of town, far enough from being followed by any cops.  Here, Ambrosia encounters the man that began the pursuit in first place and aims at her with a shotgun.  He reveals himself as Cupid.  No details can be given as to why not only has he given up on his bows and arrows, but neither can he reveal why he’s personally aiming at her.  Of course, the point is for Ambrosia to elude Cupid and from falling in love, so she must escape somehow from him and his bullets.  This cutscene involves Ambrosia and Cupid only, since her pursuers are still in Salamanca and they’re quite far away from it now.  Think of it as the inciting incident to the entire story.

[ravel-puzzlewell]

ps:t fallen london au?

I just want to pre-face it saying that I’m really bad about Fallen London lore and I’m being very cavalier with changing it, so excuse me for the nonsense.

The Trapped City is full of secrets that are well hidden from these who do not possess a right to know them, from gossip to the sacrilege, but if one really desires so, they can be learned for a price.

The Innominate Gentleman doesn’t mind being asked if he’s a Tomb Colonist, but he refuses it every time. He’s known as a delightful conversation partner despite his rather peculiar sense of fashion, that involves wearing nothing but a skirt and a lot of randomly placed bones. They say the Monster Hunters returning from the deep Unterzee shudder when they see him and turn away their eyes, which are the same color as his scarred skin. He carries a talking skull with him, the most entertaining thing for any gathering, as it can say both unkind insults and pleasing fancies. It’s empty eyesockets are glinted with a distant haze of a half-remembered sunset.  

The Disgraced Deviless that runs the Brothel of Slating the Intellectual Lusts is exiled from Hell and refuses to participate in the soul trade. It’s a bad tone to mention the Disgraced Deviless in a conversation with anyone connected with Hell, but ties of Hell, there are rumors that her charitable school is only a ruse, that she is only seeking to infiltrate the enemies of Hell from the inside, that she is the most cunning seductress Hell ever raised. After all, Hell is willing to pay treasures for the souls of her pupils.

If you lost something and want to recover it, you best bet is to ask the Shadowed Spawn. After growing up with the urchins, she retains her contacts with them, but some say that the even bigger part of her success is owed to the Rattus Faber. What is her connection with them is disputed, though there are rumors about very strange behavior that is her backside can sometimes present. In any case, the closer the item you want found is to junk, the better the odds.

It’s widely known that only Unfinished Clay Men can act in their own interests and even be violent, but there is one Clay Man who seems to be an exception. He believes in free will and individualism, but claims that he was not created Unfinished. He was a perfectly good Clay Man until he decided that he wanted to change himself and proceeded to do so. He calls himself Not-Clay Man, but it’s unclear whether it’s really true or his unfinishedness was just hidden, ran somewhere deeper than just missing a body part.

Jack the Mercykiller hunts the criminals - or whoever he perceived to be so. He killed many and was killed many times, but resurfaced again every time - and in a new body. The only thing that never changed is the spiked greatsword, his only weapon of choice.

The Masked Lady, Our Lady of Seven Pains, undoubtedly rules the city with an iron fist, but takes almost no notice of the politics. It is said that the Lady is so strong that she bows to no laws or powers, that long ago the Judgement was sent to conquer her, but ended up shattered and broken itself. She has one rule - do not worship, call, or depict her in any way or form. She is colossal, silent and more beige than one might expect.

They say that the Masters who serve the Lady were turned into the embodiments of the desires of people in the Trapped City. They say they wear robes to hide the ugly forms these desires had twisted them into. They say the one who mastered the dreams and candlelight is gone, devoured by greed.

They say that in the most secret of meetings, the stories are told about the Ravelled Enigmatologist, who long ago reshaped reality to her liking. It is known that the laws of the universe do not work properly in the Neath without the judgement’s light to enforce them, but they are also not broken easily by just anyone. They say it was the Ravelled Enigmatologist who took the names and made people come back from the death. They say she twists the words of Correspondence in word-plays that change their meanings. They say she can grant any wish, but only if you can make her want so. They say she is the only one who ever dared to make the Lady her desire.

They say the Trapped City fell from another world, from the top of an endless spire. They say that the Lady ruled it and long ago the Ravelled Enigmatologist fell in love with her and led the invasion to free her by destroying the city. The Lady defeated and imprisoned her in the Cave of Nadir, where she slowly loses herself under the assault of irrigo. The Anarchists think she stays in the Cave by her own volition, to solve the puzzle of it, and strive to find her, believing she can still lay the impossibilities low.

They say a lot of things, and when you realize that no matter how curious you were, it's probably unwise to keep listening to the strange voices telling you forbidden secrets, it is already too late.

[sigridcountessvongalen-blog]

Popes, Arch/bishops: What is it going to be? Humble pies or more Porky pies from your every corrupt and criminal shore? Your arrogance and strategic silence are only amplifying your pestilence and you know the charges are true, and are therefore them not denying! By Sigrid Countess von Galen Regarding the charges of CSA, organised crime, incl. murder, torture, abduction, enforced adoption, treason, cover ups of crimes, abuse of immunity and impunity, what is your plead? I know that under all your arrogance you are frightened from your own shadows, as in the olden days you would have ended as a burning effigy or on Captain Kidd's gallows!!! Such is the severity of the situation and make that in every by you and your inner fascist circles - not by God! - forsaken nation! You will eventually have to take up your cross of every life's loss, whose blood is on your hands, and your heresy and blasphemy about Mary Magdalene's womb that your Judas succession transformed in every generation and season with double-tongued incantations into a tomb, will be the leadt of your problems, as you put real lethal poison into your Eucharistic feast cup! In the face of the victims of the organised criminality under abuse of Vatican and Anglican church immunity, ye popes and numerous arch/bishops, you better come off your high horse and write to the prosecution voluntarily individually and collectively a confession letter without concession, and best not in hieroglyphs or Norse but preferably in plain words, as the truth is sharper than your swords, and all your empty elocution won't save you by your desecrated and by ritual bloodshed consecrated St Magnus bells! You gave faithful and humble selfless human beings your hells and your sinister and arrogant treatment and mocked the innocent souls, who entered your naves, where each of you boastingly out of hours but even at broad daylight misbehaves! The details are in numerous Bobbies' little back blook and undercover agents' reports - it took many teams years to keep track and gather the evidence of you crooks! And you abused for far too long your immunity worldwide to silence your victims and loose ends and also the whistleblowers. You even arranged in lightspeed mock funerals with wreaths and flowers to threaten and intimidate a crown witness, so that they would be for the court hearing either not available and rather accepted their fate, as you also sabotaged witness protection and made sure that via your underworld connections a rescue team came for the witness too late! And by the time, you had every landslide synod debate you had either bribed off or killed those, who were in the way of your secret agenda and of your spiderwebs, who only ever have contempt for the meek human beings, as you call them 'plebs'. My grandmother Mathilde used to say: 'The most arrogant fall the deepest from their high horse.' See you later, alligators! In court! But I won't hesitate to get an emergency injunction from the High Court, should any of you stalk my friends and family in Fellows Court! Imagine that - even a retired judge blew on you the whistle to me one day on the bus through Whitehall and hoped that I would speak on his behalf and answer for help for the victims of your pestilence his call! You see, even in the Pall Mall they have enough of being cheated and maltreated by you fake piety criminals and treated rough! They get suddenly with testimonies out of the big silence against you tough! As the flock of your victims united and shared their troubles and distress and wounds and has taken with law enforcement officials of your crimes against humanity and even of your involvement in spnsoring terror acts stock, and it sounds like you are soon to be standing in the dock!!! So, what is it going to be?! By God, for your own sake I recommend to you to confess to the truth, and nothing but the truth about your evil deeds and greed and organised crime as creeds, as already you are up in line for eternal condemnation with all your sins retained - as you have from putting wrong right refrained and have numerous victims silenced and their reputations stained! The truth spoken out and released into the subconsciousness and mainstream made the victims strong, and your silence does your own fall into your own hells of your returning curses and spells only delay but your punishment prolong! And your sandcastles of your new world order with even in Britain newly in anarchy and chaos and fascist terror embattled borders, if you had your way, will via the truth in the open as facts shatter, as your criminal and riots acts and the number of stolen and smuggled artefacts and blackhole money are one hell of a slithering and slippery mass slide into the bottom of your own corrupt see with an already dead Atlantis again in tatters! Who wants to lick your poisoned strawberry icecream van cone anyway and eat your mouldy bread and receive from you yet another millstone?! As from where I am standing you started rebranding your shadowy black rose domaine into a strawberry one via your infusion of drugs and your Blackberry texting thugs, and guess what - you didn't really use mind intrusion but simply electronic bugs, even for church confessions! And you tempered with electricity and gas and appliances and plugs in crown prosecution witnesses' flats and houses and you threatened to kill even judges' and prosecutors' spouses! Boys, old boys! Didn't you know that over from Rome to Dover was your Sunday morning fake piety shoe from the moment the truth set foot in your places, and truth landed on the ground, you were doomed with your lies and mercenaries, and now even vets and pets recognise and point their fingers to your faces in the courtroom!!! Shouldn'st have allowed your carefully selected parish council boards to use the churches also for their twelves covens and lodges, who play witches brooms and plot the next crimes from the lurches and of whom each the fare dodges under a stolen identity, as now you are also their multiple crimes under chimes blindspot! You are in the hot spot!!!'