#and then that stored lightning gets sold. mostly on the black market

[the-chattering-tower]

Poking my pirate ship setting again in ways that aren't all that productive but at least resulted in some outfits, namely for Captain Whitestone, his partner Delian (who holds no specific rank besides being an all around fun dude), and one of the crew members, Nutmeg

[xxxdragonfucker69xxx]

a fantasy zodiac

Verrer is a city of time: clockwork is built into the infrastructure of the city, powered by unfathomable magical engines deep beneath. The whole city runs on a tight schedule, and furthermore its citizens have their fates ordained from the moment of their birth: each is assigned a complicated horoscope, and from this it is possible to chart their entire life. Foreigners who come to the city are indulged, a little, but are advised to move on before they act in a manner befitting a Captain instead of a Shepherd.

The LIGHTNING BOLT is the first sign of the year, signifying unforeseen circumstances and extreme luck, good or bad. Either way, the year starts with a bang, obliterating the old and energizing the new. Those born under the Lightning Bolt are expected to live easily or recklessly; everything depends on luck, so you might as well not worry about it. At their best the Lightning Bolt is a vital force, a breath of fresh air, and a blessing to their community; at the worst they are rebellious, reckless, and dangerous. Verrer mostly shuns Lightning Bolts, but sends them to be explorers and sailors, to sate their wanderlust. Romantically compatible with the Clock, the Shackles, the Shield, and the Sparrow; they should avoid the Shepherd, Bear and Hand.

The SHACKLES are the sign of February, signifying that the chaos of the previous month has ended and that it is a time for commitments. Despite the name, the Shackles are not a negative sign; those born under the Shackles make enduring, unbreakable relationships. If you have entered into business or marriage with a Shackles you can expect them to keep their word no matter what, and in fact February is an auspicious time for weddings and contracts. At their best Shackles are loyal, caring, and reliable; at their worst they are manipulative, obsessed, and see everything as a battle for dominance. Verrer assigns Shackles to civil service. Romantically Compatible with the Clock, the Lightning Bolt, the Knives, and the Bear; they should avoid the Captain, the Lovers and the Shield.

The FLOWER is the sign of March, signifying the start of spring. The Flower is the sign of births and of children, of innocence, of new beginnings. Flowers are expected to act naively and happily, without a care in the world. At their best Flowers are kind, innocent and happy; at their worst they are naive, thoughtless or ignorant. Verrer allows Flowers to go wherever they like but prefers them as farmers, where the worst they can do is lose a harvest or two. Romantically compatible with the Sparrow, the Bear, the Lovers, and the Clock; they should avoid the Shepherd, the Hand and the Knives.

The SPARROW is the sign of April, the sign of providence. April brings gentle rain, and berries for the sparrow to eat; earth provides, and we provide for each other. Sparrows are expected to ask thoughtlessly and give carelessly. As far as they're concerned, everything belongs to everyone. At their best the Sparrow is generous, welcoming, and comforting; at their worst they ask too much, borrow foolishly, and get in over their heads. Verrer prefers Sparrows to live just outside the walls, as hunters and fishers. Romantically compatible with the Flower, the Bear, the Lightning Bolt and the Shepherd; they should avoid the Shield, the Captain and the Clock.

The BEAR is the sign of May. It is a sign of passion, which shades into frustration into anger. The Bear is uncontrolled and uncontrollable, hibernating and hunting alternately. Bears are easily provoked, and their wrath is to be feared; but they expend themselves quickly, and are good friends otherwise. At their best the Bear is passionate, bold, and courageous; at their worst they are temperamental, unpredictable, and prone to rashness. Verrer places Bears in military service, where they are drilled relentlessly (it is often said to 'beat the Bear out of them). Bears are stereotypically either good-for-nothing louts or valiant battlefield heroes. Romantically compatible with the Flower, the Sparrow, the Captain and the Shackles; they should avoid the Hand, Knives and Lightning Bolt.

The LOVERS is the sign of June. It brings us into lazy summer, resplendent and glorious. The Lovers is the sign of pleasure, physical and otherwise: wine, women (or men, or otherwise) and song. Those born under the Lovers, then, are stereotypical hedonists and philanderers. It is not the sign of the drunkard, necessarily; addiction is more often attributed to the Shackles or the Bear. Nevertheless, Verrer expects Lovers to partake deeply and often; they usually go into the entertainment industry, or else into hospitality. At their best those born under the Lovers are fun, exciting, and unquenchable; at their worst they are layabouts or jaded hedonists or debauched bohemians. Romantically compatible with the Shepherd, the Captain, the Flower and the Hand; they should avoid the Clock, Shield and Shackles.

The SHEPHERD is the sign of July. It is a pastoral sign in every sense; the Shepherd is associated with long summer days spent drowsing and daydreaming alongside white flocks. The Shepherd is expected to live an easy life, save when the wolf threatens the fold. Then they will lay down their life for their charges. At best the Shepherd is kindly, caring, and composed. At their worst they are aimless, narrow-sighted, and prone to martyrdom. Verrer places Shepherds in charge of education, which leads to best results when contrasted with teachers from the Hand. Other Shepherds go into business, opening their own stores and businesses. Romantically compatible with the Lovers, the Captain, the Sparrow and the Shield; they should avoid the Lightning Bolt, Knives and Flower.

The CAPTAIN is the sign of August. It is the descent of summer into autumn, the descent of the fist into the hand and the descent of the sword onto the neck. The Captain governs law, justice and authority, whether aboard a ship or among soldiers. At its best the Captain is a solid leader, stern but caring and inscrutable but wise. At its worst it is tyrannical, arrogant and unheeding of advice. Verrer sends some Captains to menial labor but most to the military, expecting them to rise to officer rank but glad of their stoicism even when they don't; some naval Captains do indeed become captains of their own ship. Military stories contrasting Bear and Captain are subjects of comedy, epic and romance. Romantically compatible with the Shepherd, the Lovers, the Knives and the Bear; they should avoid the Shackles, Clock and Sparrow.

The HAND is the sign of September, the beginning of fall. It is empty, that it may be filled; the Hand waits, that it may act. Hands are expected to listen rather than speak, and advise rather than act; but woe to those who confuse caution with incapacity. At its best the Hand is patient, wise and conservative; at its worst, the Hand is hidebound, cagey and fearful. Verrer sends Hands into education, to contrast with Shepherds; where Shepherds teach kindness and idealism, Hands teach austerity and practicality. Other Hands pledge themselves to service in a temple. Romantically compatible with the Lovers, the Clock, the Shield and the Knives; they should avoid the Flower, the Bear and the Lightning Bolt.

The SHIELD is the sign of October, the sign of drawing close. It is said that those born in this month are a shield to their community, and many Shields embrace this. When their friends are hurt, they are the first on the scene, and afterwards feel the worst about allowing it to happen. At their best Shields are careful, protective, and reliable; at their worst they are clingy, or become domineering when they know better than you do. Verrer pushes Shields towards law enforcement, particularly peacekeeper militia. Romantically compatible with the Shepherd (the most famous lovers of Verrer were a Shield and a Shepherd), the Hand, the Knives, and the Lightning Bolt; they should avoid the Sparrow, Lovers and Shackles.

The KNIVES are the sign of November, a sign of shortening days and lengthening shadows. Knives are tools useful for many things, and so are the people born under their sign. The Knives are willing to do what it takes to get things done, sometimes beyond the reach of common sense. At their best they are cunning, ambitious and determined; at their worst they are underhanded, treacherous and deceitful. Verrer makes Knives into investigators and spies, but the stereotypical Knife is a thief or assassin. Romantically compatible with the Hand, the Shield, the Shackles and the Captain; they should avoid the Flower, Shepherd and Bear.

The CLOCK is the sign of December, of winding up the year. The clock is a closed circle, and the end of the year is a time for finishing up old business. Those born under the Clock are expected to be at least moderately intelligent; they become engineers or wizards, or the strange combination that services the clockwork of Verrer. At its best the Clock is meticulous, detail-oriented and analytical; at its worst it is obsessive, impractical and prone to distraction or derailment. Romantically compatible with the Hand, the Flower, the Lightning Bolt and the Shackles; they should avoid the Lovers, Sparrow and Captain.

The LEVIATHAN is the final sign. Verrer (and many other cultures) reckon the last five days of the calendar as Nemontemi, a time when the laws of god and man are weakened and monsters roam freely. The Leviathan is the sign of this time, named after the greatest of these monsters. All children born at this time are considered horrifically unlucky (of all the black market birth certificates sold in Verrer, an estimated 70% are for Leviathans). Leviathans are free to do as they like, but no matter what they will face ostracization and probably end up leaving the city. They are not romantically compatible with anyone, but whoever they do end up with is in for a wild ride.

consider this a tatterpigsgiving i guess

this is monthly rather than yearly cause i need symbolism regarding the clock and the leviathan for Plot, actually i was going to do it hourly but the same applies

i just used regular months cause my players cant take too much lore at once

tag yourself im shield or maybe shackles

see if you can guess which class is which, and what leviathan is

[verrottweil]

la plus belle de céans

unbeta'ed but i just needed to get the first chapter of -whatever- this is out of my system, okay?

i wrote this because i really really like the way ifan says lohse's name and because i also high-key want to make the canonical sex scene a 100x more grittier and desperate. i mean i haven't written it yet, but /details/

on ao3

.

-Coin in the dead pauper’s mouth

will give me Lucian’s luck,

the noblewoman whispers before she slots

a Ducate

between an orphan’s frostbitten lips-

.

Superstition runs rampant in Verdistis.

At dawn, the prettiest scullery maids scour the skies for a single blue heron in the hopes a wealthy merchant’s son will notice them, and at dusk the city guards coat their breastplate with the crushed petals of a yarrow flower to ward off daggers in the dark.

Never mix your ales, the innkeeper reminds a barmaid when she cracks open a barrel, it brings us no luck lass.

Novice summoners throw bottles of expensive wines against late Corinna’s house, merchants refuse to shake hands over the threshold of their mansions and even the most crooked of thieves dutifully shoots a quick, simple prayer to the Divine before a heist. You was one o’ us, they’d whisper hotly, fumbling with a lockpick as if a demon was on their tail, and there’s still honor among us thieves, ain’t there?

These are certainties–

Good fortune rests in a pinch of salt thrown over the shoulder, a touch of stardust powder on a lovely woman’s cheek, a golden coin inside the dead pauper’s mouth–

Wolves will steal away little children sleeping too close to the edge of the bed and drag them underneath the willow root–

Ghosts won’t enter a home where sage is burning in the fireplace–

Lohse is ten years old and she knows that last one is complete and utter nonsense. Her mother crumbles sage leaves in the burning hearth every evening, but that doesn’t keep the spirits and demons out, doesn’t prevent her from turning into a haunt. Some take, some give, some teach her things – how to heal, how to hunt, how to hurt – and others don’t go gentle into that good night at all, seizing control of her small body and sending her into violent fits. One turned her tiny, clenched fists onto the city guard and she was dragged back home by the scruff of her neck, spitting curses in a foreign tongue, shrieking and wailing.

She’s a half-sized pint of energy regardless, wild and bright-eyed, with hair the color of a forest fire and skinny, skinned knees.

Don’t sleep too close to the edge of the bed, her mother often warns her, reaching for her under the threadbare coverlet, pulling her close against her chest. Her collarbones grow sharper, more defined as the days turn into months, and her face gaunt, pale, stricken with worry. The hovel smells of smoke, of sage, but the cold keeps biting at their toes regardless. Or the wolf will drag you to the forest, under the willow shrubs, my little one.

She bites her tongue, swallows down the brutally honest words she wants to give in turn sometimes, I’d let him mum, I’d bloody well let him.  

On crowded street corners, Lohse sings, jokes or dances, and on lesser days during the cruel, cold winter months mostly, she pleads, begs for alms or feigns death when a rich, soft-hearted noblewoman passes by.

She knows the city’s alleyways like the back of her hand and Lohse learns to survive on the skin of her teeth, on her lightning quick wit and razor-sharp tongue.

Whatever keeps the hunger at bay.

People have precious little coin to spare these days though. These are hard times, she overhears the general store merchant say to her mother, I heard sly ol’ Lucian’s rallying his army against the Black Ring, there’s a war coming, mark my words lady. She doesn’t really get what a war has to do with poverty, with an empty belly and no supper on the table, but her mother seems to understand and sighs and stretches herself even thinner.

The drunkards in the Ducal Inn always raise their mugs in unison when they talk about the war against the orcs, as if they were there too. In candlelight, they praise the Divine with flushed cheeks and slurred words as the barmaid brings another round to the table. Ferol is feral land, they agree, and bless Lucian for trying to tame it.

Lohse’s whole world is contained within Verdistis’ walls, and beyond there’s only woodland, the crumbling stonework of the old church they visit for mass, Rivertown market.

.

After the last frost’s thawed, the city holds a festival. Fanfare rings throughout the streets as the travelling troupe dances over the cobblestones, and people set up stalls in the park, hang garlands between the trees, hand out soup made of watercress and green peas for the poor, try to sell trinkets they no longer have use for.

Outside the wine merchant’s store, his servants load ox-drawn cart after ox-drawn cart with barrels and crates full of bottles.

Verdistis is bright, bold and proud in the face of a crusade.

Lohse’s thirteen years old and musters a cheerful smile, wanting to impress the sour-faced, burly leader of the travelling troupe with her song and dance.

There are patches poorly-sewn into her dress. Her fingers were clumsy from the cold, that seemed to creep through every crack between the planks of that sorry excuse for a hovel she lives in. I need to get out of here, she thinks, desperate, and sings even louder, does a magic trick.

Her mother died a fortnight ago. Ah yes, the bloody flux, the good doctor had exclaimed gravely, looking silly with his dainty handkerchief hard-pressed against his nose, you’re extremely fortunate not to have contracted it yourself, young lady. Lohse had to pay him two ducats for his troubles, and sold off anything valuable left to finance the funeral, to afford a cross planted in the rich graveyard soil with her mother’s name carved into the wood.

Orphans only last so long on alms and Lohse doesn’t intend to survive on moldy breadcrumbs and strangers’ bleeding hearts alone.

“Enough,” the ringleader bristles curtly. Her skirt whips around her ankles when she comes to a complete standstill, stopped dead in her tracks, and she rubs her hands together, shaking off the sparks. His eyes are glassy, like brass buttons under candlelight, when he gives her another once-over.

With a nod, – and even that’s too generous a description, it’s more a light inclination of the head – the leader of the travelling troupe makes up his mind. Lohse meets his scrutiny head-on, staring up at him with a defiant expression, as if her heart isn’t threatening to leap through her mouth. “If you know how to earn your keep, I got no qualms in you staying, girl.”

“I will. I mean, I do. Know how to earn my keep, I mean,” Lohse replies excitedly, rocking forwards and backwards on her toes. She tilts her head, pops her lips and asks, “So, uhm, what do I call you? I mean—”

The ringleader bares down the full weight of his gaze on her bony shoulders, on her patchwork dress and wildfire hair. He’s built like a brick house, scars and muscles, the type of man her mother would warn her to steer clear off if they’d met in one of the city’s alleyways. “Chief,” he says. “If you’re gonna call me anything, call me chief.”

Lohse meets the other members of the travelling troupe that same afternoon.

They’re a colorful bunch of singers, musicians, dancers, jokers and fortune tellers, from every corner on the continent it seems.

She pulls her weight. A young lizard dancer called Blaisdell, whose scales remind Lohse of the jellyroom growing in the shadow of the Ducal Inn, teaches her how to dance with magic, how to shoot searing flames from her fingertips. She learns how to strum the snares of a lute with nimble fingers, how to hold a high note without her lungs giving out, and how to execute the punchline of a crude joke properly.

They travel dangerous roads, so the chief has her practice with a bow, a sword, a dagger in each hand, and what her newfound family won’t teach her, the new spirits her roadside inn of a mind attracts will.

On one evening, after the travelling troupe’s just set up camp at the edge of the Dark Forest, Lohse shacks up with a fortune teller from the Mezd desert. Candles are burning in little stone bowls on their heavy trunks. Outside the dwarven musicians are quarreling about a lost game of dice.

My specialty’s palm reading, she says in a soft, melodious voice as she takes Lohse’s hand in her own, would you -perhaps- like a demonstration?

Her fingers are adorned with heavy rings and thin golden chains looping back to a fine, bright stone on the back of her hand. There are crow feet at the corners of her almond-shaped eyes and wrinkles around her mouth. Candlelight flickers over her face like a blessing.

With her forefinger, she gently traces the curve of the bracelet lines above Lohse’s wrist and hums lowly, channeling a burst of Source within her. When Lohse looks down on their held hands, there’s an unearthly glow clinging to their skin. She tells her of demons to come and adversities to expect, the customary niceties really, until…

You will run with a lone wolf, the palm reader intones, simultaneously looking and not looking at Lohse as she speaks, And make the whole world pack.

Those words seemed to stick, like honey to a teaspoon, like balm to skin, like blood to a murderer’s hands. Lohse would spend the night wondering what those words meant and would fall asleep dangerously close to the edge of the makeshift bed.

.

Even if Lohse feels indebted to the chief and his travelling troupe for getting her out of Verdistis, she was told there was never any obligation for her to stay permanently. Artists have always joined and left their ranks at a whim. Why’d you be any different, girl?

She’s eighteen years old and lingers hesitantly at the grand stone city gates, genuinely nervous for the first time in years, with a knapsack under her arm and a lute strapped to her back. Arx is noisy around her, and while the bones of the city are old and stately like a prim and proper merchant’s mother, the square is still thrumming with life and activity, even after the travelling troupe’s broken down their camp and loaded the oxen-drawn carts with their sails and tentpoles.

It’s close to lunchtime when she takes her goodbyes. Two magister recruits in their brazen red robes scramble past her towards the barracks, almost tripping over the cobblestones.

“Your name better haunt the roads, girl,” the chief says, with the midday sunlight baring down on his broad back and bald head. There are far more wrinkles around his eyes now, than when she first met him. She blinks back the tears in her eyes and ushers a facsimile of a smile. “Break a hindleg, like Blaisdell would say.” His voice is gruff, and Lohse could swear she saw something akin to pride on his face.

Lohse clutches the strap of her knapsack tightly and nods.

“There’s a whole continent for me to conquer, chief,” she responds determinedly. “And if Lucian can tame Ferol, what’s stopping me from doing the same, right?”

.

It’s hard, life on the road, but Lohse’s long-since learned how to scrape by on next-to-nothings.

She rouses tavern guests with rowdy drinking songs, watching how they toss coins at her feet until her throat’s sore and her voice’s gone hoarse, and the last of the drunkards slump over, asleep in their creaking chairs or against the counter of the bar. Oh, all the coin I e’er spent, I spent it in good company, she sings loudly, laughing when the crowd starts to sing along, and all the harm that e’er I’ve done, alas it was to none but me. Sometimes she falls into the good graces of one of the barmaids and gets a fresh pint, free of charge.

The farmers in Paradise Downs like her well enough when she leads the procession during the harvest festival, humming the traditional hymns, dressed up in autumn colors. Dead leaves crunch under her bare feet. There are swipes of dried sheep’s blood on her cheeks and the smell of apple cider hangs heavy in the air, like the promise of a night’s rest in a barn or – even better – in a farmstead’s bed. Lohse bows her head low to an effigy of Rhalic and prays that she better gets paid handsomely for this.

During a ride along Reaper’s Coast, she watches the faraway horizon slowly eat the silhouette of a magister’s ship. Lohse kicks her legs, holding onto the back of the wagon; the wheels squeak when they grind pebbles underfoot. Madcap fiddles with the strings of the fiddle, cursing sourly under his breath when another one snaps. Kroller keeps telling the same dirty joke about the difference between a lizard’s and an elf’s tongue to the coachman until he gets the punchline right. It takes a while.

Papa Joris claps her on the shoulder and points towards the sea. “Lohse, you ever find yourself in a sinking ship, follow the rats. They’ll find you a way out.”

“What’s this all about?” She asks, leaning back and settling her elbows on the wood, staring at him upside down. Her unruly hair falls pin-straight for once.

The well-natured dwarf takes on an air of importance and looks out over the water. He idly rubs at the large, jagged scar on his right cheek, that starts from his ear and disappears under the thick hairs of his beard. “I once fought a real beast, you know, in a different life. When I still served in the queen’s army.” Papa Joris sighs and all the tension bleeds out of him; the memories promptly tucked back under his skull and away from his loose-lipped mouth. “So. Take my advice, and follow the rats.”

“Sure thing, chief,” Lohse replies easily, bouncing her foot to the tune of Madcap’s broken fiddle.

.

Summer heat swelters under her skin, poised upwards like needles; sweat gleams in the hollow of her collarbones, in the curve of her elbows and knees.

The crescendo of her voice—

is not her own.

She’s the prettiest of the house, take her by the hand.

She’s the prettiest of the house, take her by the hand.

People are clapping to the beat of her feet stamping down on the floorboards. Lohse recognizes the numbness that comes with possession and has no choice but to allow the spirit’s presence to wash over her. Her awareness gets pushed into a narrow corner of her mind as her vision fogs up.

The crescendo of her voice—

rises, rises, rises.

Bring, bring our beautiful.

Bring your sheep from the fields, shepherdess.

Her hips sway like a snake-charmer’s pet, from right to left to right again. Someone smashes a bottle over the back of a woman’s head, and blood-stained glass and strong-smelling ale gushes down onto the floor. Whatever’s gotten a hold over her mind, is terribly persistent, hammered into the heart like a nail in Anhar’s boots. Stuck.

The crescendo of her voice—

rises, rises, rises.

Bring, bring our beautiful.

She’s the prettiest of the house.

Through the fog, Lohse hears someone screaming.

Everyone in the inn is staring at her, breathing haggardly, stumbling unsteady feet, holding onto one another as if dancing. The room stinks of spilled alcohol and blood.

The crescendo of her voice falls.

When Lohse catches a glimpse of her face in the reflection of a silver goblet, she finds her eyes turned pitch-black.

She swallows dryly and thinks,

shite.

.

It happens again at her performance near Driftwood—

One young magister backhands her harshly across the cheek; Lohse accidentally bites her own tongue and the overwhelming taste of blood fills the inside of her mouth. She watches the maddening crowd pull and push at each other from a frog’s perspective, lying defenseless on the ground from the blow. There are blurs of reds around her.

Two magisters haul her up by her arms and drag her away, muttering under their breaths about how she’s the ‘second sourcerer causing trouble’ and how there’s ‘still a spot on the Merryweather’. They hold her up so high, her toes barely brush the grass.

Lohse opens her mouth to speak, but before she can manage a word, the tallest of the two magisters kicks her in the shin and hisses for her to keep quiet. She can feel the bruise forming there, the shape and size of his foot, and groans incoherently in response.

They slip heavy iron bands around her wrists and ankles, and a strange, tight-fitting, blue-flickering collar around her neck–

“You’ll be cured,” the magister tells Lohse before she pushes her into the metal cage on the cart and slams the door in her face. “You better be grateful.”

“Oh really?” Lohse prompts back, stretching the ‘y’ in the word really, holding onto the bars. “I doubt you’re sending me to Fort Joy for an exorcism and a two-week vacation.”

The magister doesn’t acknowledge her anymore and turns the key inside the lock, and if there was ever a picture for the word final, this would be it.

.

[neenjamescommunications]

Mini Gift Guide For The Tech Traveller Business Person In Your Life

Normally, I shy away from gift guides. This year is different.

I consider myself a tech traveller. I travel about 150,000 miles per year (for some that’s insane, for other that’s called “February”). With that, I am always super specific about the gear that I travel with. Because I never check bags, everything must be super lightweight, ultra durable, multi-purpose and truly functional for heavy usage. Over the years, I’ve often had the question: “Where did you get that?,” while sitting in airports, hotel lobby’s or just over lunch with a friend. I quickly realized that I, in fact, am a huge nerd and love scouting out the latest and greatest in tech and travel gadgets that can make your business trip that much more pleasant.

Let’s level set first.

Before rattling off some of the best gadgets for the tech traveller in your life, it’s important to note that I travel with a��MacBook Pro (the new one that is USB C only) and the iPhone X. I travel, mostly, domestically in North America and I have a physical aversion to checking any luggage. So, I pack light and wear similar clothes (black only!).

With that, here’s my mini gift guide for the tech traveller your life…

Anker PowerCore Fusion 5000 2-in-1 Portable Charger and Wall Charger. A killer little travel device that enables me to leave all of the Apple charger bricks at home for the smartphones and tablets and — at the same time — this also double as a portable charger for your smartphone. I can’t thank Scott Stratten enough for introducing me to this device. I also love how it plugs directly into the wall and recharges the battery, while being able to handle two USB devices. Simply brilliant. This literally took me from four separate charging devices/portable batteries down to just one.

Poweradd 2-Outlet Mini Travel Surge Protector. This is another “must have” device. I picked up a portable and mini travel size power bar at a trade show booth for free. I loved it. It eventually died, and I replaced it with this one… and I am glad that I did. This has room for a few devices to plug in, plus two USB ports. If you have ever been to a hotel, airport lounge or airport lobby, you know how scare, hard to find and tight the spaces are to actually plug anything in. This one is so well designed, that it even plugs perfectly into that pesky little outlet that are in the base of hotel room lamps on the night table. Frequent flyers also know how tough it can be to get those Apple chargers into in the in-seat plugs (if you’re lucky enough to have one). This cures all. I love the way the chord wraps and hides itself, and I’m a huge fan of the little green power light as well. You have no idea how often I plug something into a random wall on the road, and I don’t know if the socket is dead, if it’s the charger, etc… This lets you know when it’s actually getting power. This gets you from one plug to two plus two USB ports.

Anble 4-in-1 USB Type C to HDMI, DVI and VGA Converter. If you have to give a business presentation, you need to have one of these. While my primary dongles to attach my laptop to projectors are the official ones from Apple, I always want to have a back up (especially because these new MacBook’s are using USB C, and very few AV teams carry this new format/dongle). With that, I always want a backup. This is it. It’s an all-in-one, so I would not trust it as the only solution, but it’s great for a backup. The bonus of this one is that it also has DVI. DVI is a format I don’t see often (and Apple doesn’t even have a USB C to DVI dongle), but just in case I always keep this one handy. So, you can connect to VGA, HDMI and DVI all from this one dongle.

2 in 1 Lightning iPhone 7 Adapter for iPhone. If you use headphones, one of the biggest adjustments that must be made as you transition over to the newer iPhones, is the lack of a headphone jack. I’ll recommend some great Bluetooth headsets for being on-the-go next, but it’s a shame to waste the headphones that you already have. This would be a solution. The ability to plug into a corded headphone while also being able to charge your device at the same time (a must for being on the go with these battery draining smartphones). Candidly, I’m not sold on these adapters, but they are essential. The challenge (as I have discovered) is that while these do the trick of allowing you to listen to audio while charging your device at the same time (something, the official Apple adapter does not allow), it does render the buttons on your headphones useless. So, if you want to jump tracks, raise/lower the volume or even use the microphone on your headset for a call, these adapters don’t always allow for that functionality. Buyer beware. I’m hopeful that Apple creates an official version of this, at some point soon.

Bose QuietControl 30 Wireless Headphones. These are my wireless/bluetooth headphones of choice for travel. Bose is a brand that many know and love. I’ve gone through the lot of their headphones (and other brands as well). There is no doubt that the sound quality and true noise cancelling is much better on the Bose QuietComfort 35 Wireless Bluetooth Headphones, but I am a stickler on a few points that the 30 delivers on over the 35. First, if you ever have to sleep on a plane, I find it much more comfortable to have the in-ear option. The over-the-ears don’t allow you to move your head around as much, and if you’re lucky enough to get a lie-flat seat on an overseas flight, you can forget about sleeping on your side with the 35. I also much prefer the slim form factor of the 30 over the 35. The 35 has a much bulkier packaging, which makes it harder to slip into your briefcase. These are both expensive headphones. Both work great. I choose the 30 over the 35.

eBags Professional Slim Laptop Backpack. This is my backpack/briefcase. I could not be happier with it, and I have bought — literally — hundreds of briefcases and backpacks over the years. I’m always looking for something light, durable, black, professional and with enough pockets and areas that I can zip through security and customs without having to fumble around too much. The good people at eBags really have something with this bag. I can’t think of one thing that I would want to add/remove. This one is so smart — from the front pocket for emptying your pockets at security to the base at the bottom of the bag that will hold all external chargers, to the smaller top compartment especially built for your tablet (or Kindle or whatever) and the separate area for your laptop. If you’re looking for a professional bag that does it all… you can’t go wrong with this one.

Briggs & Riley Baseline Rolling Cabin Bag. Another area where I have spent way too much time, money and effort on is the ideal carry-on. This is the one. By far. Many airlines are now forcing gate check for carry-on bags that are too big. I went in the opposite direction, and I will never turn back. I often find myself on smaller planes, where all bags must be gate checked. This has stressed me out for connections and created delays. This is the best solution. It’s small enough that it can fit in many of the smaller aircrafts overhead bins. And, if it doesn’t, I slip my eBags briefcase (above) in the overhead bin, and this bad boy can go under any seat. I can’t express how much love I have for never ever having to gate check a bag. The trick with this bag, is that you have to pack light. I recommend rolling (tight) all of your clothing and coupling this with Eagle Creek’s Pack-It Specter Garment Folder Small (make sure you get the small version or it will not fit in this bag) for articles that you do not want to wrinkle (dress shirts, sport coats, dresses, etc…) — see below for that product. I’ve been able to use this cabin bag for two nights and three days on the road, though it is more ideal for a quick overnight trip.

Eagle Creek’s Pack-It Specter Garment Folder Small. I do not know how I ever lived without this product. Remember, if you are going to go with the Briggs & Riley Cabin Bag above, make sure you get the “small” version of this magic little packing solution. This garment folder claims to be able to hold up seven items (according to their website), but from my experience, it really hold two dress shirts and one sport coat tightly. Still, it compresses the clothes and keeps them wrinkle free — and it works like a charm. If you travel, you must try these out. They’re the best at space saving for packing.

RuMe Bags Baggie All Zippered Organizer. Last (but not least) is this little charmer. Cables, dongles, headphones, adapters, presentation remotes, etc… can quickly turn the inside of your bag into something that resembles a pit of tangled snakes. For years, this bag has been my go-to organizer. I put my two remote presenters in the front pocket with my USB stick of backup files. The middle section gets all of the dongles that I need to connect to random projectors and AV set-ups, and the main compartment gets everything else. These bags are simply awesome and will keep every small-ish piece of tech and accessory organized and never to be lost again. For those who live in Canada, Dollorama has a similar bag in their stores, that I think are actually better (thicker material and slightly bigger) for under $4, so go and hunt it out in the office/school supply section.

Those are my top tech traveller’s business person gifts… what are yours?

note: all of the links above are affiliate links on Amazon. My intent is to donate whatever money is generated by the links to a local woman’s shelter. Hoping that you’re cool with that? And, yes, I really do use each and every one of these gadgets almost every day. If it’s in this list, it’s because I love it and use it.

Mitch Joel is President of Mirum — a global digital marketing agency operating in close to 20 countries. His first book, Six Pixels of Separation, named after his successful blog and podcast is a business and marketing bestseller. His second book, CTRL ALT Delete, was named one of the best business books of 2013 by Amazon. Learn more at: www.mitchjoel.com.

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