#but this was the first time it took over and razed a group of bandits along with an entire village

[cooking-up-arts]

"I did... what?"

Hyo-Sung, 24 years old, cursed prince.

[patricia-von-arundel]

Prompt for Power Moms AU: Edelgard went to inspect the progress of a new village being built, but her group fell into an ambush by rebels. She is saved at the crucial time by Dimitri and Claude, both immediately went to rescue her the moment they heard of the ambush. (Basically mending relationships between them. Byleth and Millie were back at the palace and will definitely fuss over El when she returns)

"Dimitri!" Unusual urgency, in Claude's voice - and he was already on his wyvern. "It's Edelgard. One of the soldiers made it back. An ambush. There aren't enough of them." He brought the wyvern down for a smooth - brief - landing. "Get on. It's the fastest way. Hilda's already left with Hubert."

Dimitri was not accustomed to flying, but it made no difference - nor was he terribly cognizant of that fact, at the moment. What came to mind, instead...

Duscur. Bodies strewn like a child's abandoned dolls across the stone. Stumbling away, and almost tripping over a body. Glenn's body. The body of someone he loved, deeply and truly.

Not El. Not El, too!

He had only just gotten her back.

And more importantly - there was the family she had made. That little girl, just beginning to really talk, to smile, to wave when she saw him or the others. She clung to Edelgard, as if El was the safest place in all the world.

Below, the scars across the land remained: burned villages; razed fields. That was what Edelgard had been going to inspect - damage to one of the nearby settlements. The combined coffers of those who had created this war would go, in part, to reparations - but first, the decision had to be made as to whether to rebuild, or bring down and start anew. A long, slow process they had all agreed to take part in - and today had been Edelgard's turn.

"There!" Claude banked sharply, bringing them down low enough that Dimitri could jump from the wyvern's back, already drawing his lance as Claude took off again, his bow at the ready.

Dimitri ran, surveying the skirmish. Bandits, it appeared - but so many of them! People turned desperate by war... He could see the bright sparks of Hubert's magic, Hilda's wyvern already diving into the thick of it. Imperial soldiers - Edelgard's contingency - were doing their best, but they were not the elites. There had been no expectation of violence in this area.

And some of the soldiers were already down.

How many had El taken? He didn't know. And he didn't see her.

His lance sliced, and the man before him dropped with a ragged cry, his pitted old sword falling from one limp hand. There was no time to feel pity.

Fighting the madness that enjoyed this. Struggling, in the chaos, to find her. Swinging mindlessly - but surely.

The thickness at the center of it - that was where the cry came from.

Fury. Chaos. And terror.

El!

He dropped the lance, now throwing these weak, cowardly men aside like paper. Because he could see the red, now - they had brought her down. Too many of them, faced alone.

He slid to his knees on the muddy ground, beside her. The circle had begun to fracture - Hubert was coming. He, too, must have heard the cry. And Hubert had no need of weapons.

Dimitri left him to it - focusing on Edelgard.

"...El?"

She was breathing in harsh gasps, but the wound in her leg was not deep - though surely, it was painful. Still, she almost smiled. "You came?"

"Of course I came! This is not the time for - " But now she was smiling. "I expect such nonsense from Claude, El, but would hold you to a higher standard."

"I'll have to do it more often, then."

"Claude is here, as well - he can get you back to a healer more quickly. May I..." He hesitated. "May I carry you? I would not advise walking."

"Nor would I. And you may."

She was shockingly light - despite her height, it was easy to forget just how small she really was. He remembered his surprise, seeing her again for the first time at the Academy, at just how frail she looked.

The field around them quiet once more.

He stood just as Claude landed beside them: "Heya, your imperial axeliness. Need a ride?"

"That would be... most appreciated. Thank you, Claude." She winced, despite the care with which Dimitri attempted to help her sit. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and wrapped her arms around Claude. "I... thank you. Both of you. It... Just... thank you."

"Don't get all maudlin on us, Edelgard," Claude said. "His majesty here will cry. He's soft like that."

"Claude!"

Edelgard shook her head. "Perhaps I should not have allowed you to live, if this is what we can expect for the rest of our lives."

"I promise to be quiet on the way back. Well - mostly quiet. Maybe we can sing some songs?" She made a disgusted little noise, and Claude laughed. "Anyway, I expect the Imp is more than ready for you to get back. We'll see you back in Enbarr, Dimitri."

He watched them as they flew away. He tried to stop it, but he was fairly sure he was smiling.

[deathboundinautumn]

The LoL AU

The sprawling and constantly expanding world of Runeterra is home to many remarkable figures.  Why not add one more?

Character Stats:

Name: Shinjiro Aragaki Age: 25 Birthplace: Tevasa, Ionia Status: Wanted by the Kinkou Order and the Navori Brotherhood Condition: Tormented by the Azakana dubbed ‘Castor’

Background (This is by far the most in-depth AU I’ve ever written so you can pretty much get by with the stats above if you don’t want to read the whole thing):

A native of the First Lands, Shinjiro Aragaki was born at the footholds of the mountain in a small town called Tevasa.  Shortly after his birth the small village was struck by tragedy.  Inexplicably, villagers would just up and leave their homes randomly throughout the day and never return.  Search parties were sent but were quickly stopped when party members would also go missing.  Several children were orphaned in the process, including Shinji.  

Though it was never said, many of the villagers that remained often blamed the recent newborns for the disappearance of the villagers.  It was believed that some lives were to be returned to the land as new ones began, to maintain balance.  Regardless of the teachings, these children were looked down upon and only cared for in the most basic of ways, ensuring that none went hungry and all had a home.

Despite receiving little support from the adults in his village, Shinjiro found solace in his fellow orphans who were largely given free reign over what they did once their daily chores were completed.  Though he never knew his parents, Shinji never felt without family.  For as long as he could remember he’d been best friends with two other orphans Asheru and Mi’rai-Ey, together the three formed their own family growing closer than most blood siblings in the village. 

Everyone lost something during the Noxian Invasion and Shinji is no exception.  When invaders came to Tevasa Shinji, Asheru and Mi’rai-Ey took up arms alongside the rest of the villagers to defend their home.  Amidst the chaos the trio became separated.  Asheru, always too eager to get in the thick of the fight, rushed towards the invaders leaving Mi’rai-Ey and Shinji.  Though the villagers fought valiantly it was clear from the beginning that they’d be no match for the Noxian invaders.  They were a rural farming town, armed with only the most rudimentary farming tools against an enemy brandishing superior steel and tactics.  

Many lives were lost that day, none more significant to Shinjiro than Mi’rai-Ey who died in his arms after an arrow struck her in the heart.  

“Take care of him.  He’s always been a cry baby,” she chokes while a shaky hand reaches for his own. His tight grip around her hand gives her just enough of a second wind to refocus her gaze as she whispers to him “It’s not your fault,” before succumbing to her wounds.

Having lost his sister and fearing the worst for his brother Shinji welcomed death openly.  But death never came.  The battle should have ended with the razing of Tevasa, its inhabitants either killed or enslaved, but it didn’t.

Miraculously, the Noxian Invaders were halted by a single figure emerging from the nearby forest who’s powerful magic completely outclassed the invaders most well-trained soldiers.  Shinjiro looked on, a mix of both awe and horror painting his visage as this wild feral woman with nine long white tails ripped the life essence from Noxian soldiers, seemingly growing more and more powerful with each felled enemy till the remaining troops fled.  Tevasa would later attribute their victory to the powerful ancient Ionian fox spirit the Gatekeeper and would erect a shrine.

In the aftermath Shinjiro was overjoyed to see that Asheru had survived the battle but elation quickly turned to grief as he broke the news that Mi’rai-Ey, their sister, had been killed in the battle.  Together they mourned and remembered their fallen kin and tried their best to move forward.  Overtime it quickly became apparent that, without her, their family was falling apart.  Shinjiro feeling responsible for not being able to protect her and  Asheru growing more and more bitter as news of the war came in.  Asheru never blamed Shinji for Mi’rai-Ey’s death but as time passed the boy could no longer sit in their village while invaders ransacked their home.

“I’m going to get stronger,” he says, “strong enough to protect the people I care about.”  

Shortly after Mi’rai-Ey’s death Asheru left Tevasa to join the growing Navori brotherhood leaving Shinji alone.

Shinji spent most of his time tending to Mi’rai-Ey’s garden; their last moments burned in his mind.  It was his fault.  He could have done something, anything.  It should’ve been him...

A year or so passes and the guilt is too much to bear.  Too long has he spent sleeping in the same hut he once shared with his family, their things remain largely untouched save for the occasional dusting.  Privately he entrusts Mi’rai-Ey’s garden to one of the elders before leaving Tevasa in the late evening.  

With the loss of his family and now his self-imposed exile, Shinjiro spends his life as a vagrant.  Shinjiro keeps mostly to himself, rarely traveling with others unless absolutely necessary.  Despite traveling alone and largely camping outside of settlements, the teen can’t help but hear words of affirmation whispered on the wind that passes through the trees.

‘it’s your fault’ ‘you deserve to be alone’ ‘you could have saved her’

Every waking moment is plagued by these thoughts until it becomes so regular it barely bothers him at all.  The only time he can seem to quiet his mind is in sleep and eventually that respite is soon taken as nightmares poison his dreams.  Though every nightmare is different the malformed, twisted humanoid creatures in them remain the same until one nightmare he is no longer tortured by three but one: A pale rider impaled on his own sword riding a one legged horse that hunts him relentlessly.

 The vagrant would wake in the middle of the night in a cold sweat gasping for air and clawing at his chest.  After a while the waking and dreaming world often blur together, making him question which was which.

After two years of wandering and torment both in the waking world and dreaming Shinjiro is ambushed by a group of bandits.  Despite fighting valiantly, incapacitating three of the eight, their numbers are overwhelming and they beat the vagrant within an inch of his life.  As the would-be killing blow comes down the teen collapses to the ground writhing in agony.  Its as if thousands of needles are piercing his brain all at once.  A familiar haunting whinny cuts through the blood pounding in his ears and the apparition of the pale rider can be seen through swimming vision.

He looks on in horror as the horseman charges forward impaling one bandit on the horses’ head-spike while the rider cleaves through another two.  Smoldering eyes burning crimson with hatred turn to the remaining two bandits that have started to flee in terror. With a sharp tug on the reigns, the horse leaps high into the air and as it begins its descent Shinji can’t bear to watch any longer.  Though his eyes are shut tight the weakening cries of agony and sickening crunch he hears over and over are more than enough to paint a clear picture in his mind.

 Eyes are forced open when he feels two large hands tightly wrapped around his neck lifting him into the air.  The pale rider’s.

“You’ll die when We say so”

Shinji wakes with a scream in the middle of the night next to the dying embers of a campfire nowhere near where the supposed mugging took place.  Was it all a dream?  He could have sworn it was real.  It all felt so real.  Yet where there should be cuts and bruises from the mugging he finds nothing.  As time passes, Shinji goes without another incident as severe and just assumes it was a one-off.

At the age of twenty, Shinjiro encountered a Kinkou Acolyte, Selune, who immediately recognizes that something isn’t right inside the vagabond.  Shinjiro’s Essence is being strangled and poisoned by a large amount of dark spiritual energy unlike anything she’s ever seen before.  Upon hearing this and desperate for some respite, Shinji discloses what he’s been experiencing since leaving Tevasa four years ago and the two decide to travel together to learn more about why this dark spirit energy hangs so heavily around him.

After a few weeks of observation Selune gathers that Shinji’s spirit is occasionally being pulled into the spirit realm while he’s sleeping and the things he’s been experiencing in his “dreams” are what’s ripping apart his soul.  She informs him that if this continues his soul will diminish until there’s nothing left, killing him.

As weeks turn to months the two grow close despite Shinjiro’s best efforts to remain acquaintances and after three months of travel he warily (and never to her face) considers her a friend.  During this time, Selune formulates a plan to sever the dark spirit energy from Shinjiro’s soul via a ritual involving her Spirit Blade and after a few days of preparation the day long ritual begins.  

Neither of them are prepared for what would happened. 

The first few hours go well, Shinji feeling a great deal of weight being lifted from his heart.  However, six hours into the ritual Shinjiro begins to break out in a cold sweat.  The blood in his veins like fire,  heart racing as breaths get shorter and shorter before the pain becomes so excruciating that he cries out in agony.

As he writhes on the ground in the sealing circle the outline of the pale rider that’s plagued his nightmares begins to manifest.  Selune looks on in shock that quickly turns to terror as realization dawns on her that what’s tethered to Shinjiro’s soul isn’t just dark spiritual energy from the spirit realm, its a full on demon and it’s powerful.

In an attempt to sever its connection to Shinjiro, Selune takes her spirit blade and plunges it deep into Shinji’s chest.  This only further enrages the demon and it is only then that she realizes just how powerful the demon really is.  It’s had five years to fester deep within is his soul and was now, finally, powerful enough to interact regularly with the physical realm.

Shinji chokes out a desperate cry for her to leave him as pain wracks his body leaving him incapacitated.   The last thing he sees before consciousness fails him is the demon pulling the sword from its own chest and charging at his new companion.

“Foolish boy.  You couldn’t save her either.”  

The low gravelly voice cuts through the unnatural silence rousing him from unconsciousness.  The demon looms over him, picking him up by his head and throwing him towards Selune’s lifeless body.  

“It’s your fault.  It’s ALWAYS your fault.  You made US.  Anytime somebody tries to take you from Us we will ALWAYS be there to stop it.  Your life is OURS,” the demon taunts before disappearing.

After a few hours recuperating from the ordeal, Shinji begins the difficult task of laying Selune to rest.  

He never should have involved her. She was dead because of him   

As he goes through her belongings he discovers her journal.  It’s contents contain the bulk of her research from the past few months of their travels.  From the journal he learns that he’s been playing host to numerous tiny demons, or Azakana, ever since the Noxian Invasion.  These demons have been feeding off his negative emotions for the past five years and the longer they’ve gone unchecked the stronger they’ve become.

Suddenly the nightmares and invasive thoughts he’s been hearing ever since the invasion make sense.   The whispers reinforcing his own guilt for not protecting Mi’rai-Ey, his unyielding sorrow at the loss of his friendship with Asheru and his own fulminating self-hatred.  Those feelings attracted separate Azakana and as time went on and how normal those feelings started to feel caused the three demons to become one; A conglomerate of his worst feelings made manifest and much more powerful together than any single one of them could have been alone.

As he continues to read her journal he learns that not much is known about exorcising these demons as they only started appearing after the Noxian Invasion.  She is able to assume however that, like all demons, an Azakana cannot be harmed by conventional means and only powerful magic or spirit weapons like her Spirit Blade are able to harm/ kill the demons.

Strangely enough after being fully recognized as real by Shinjiro, the demon begins to communicate more directly and when asked for a name it responds: Castor.  As the two talk Shinji learns that Castor emerges when Shinjiro is threatened  to ‘protect Their kill’ and even encourages Shinji to take Selune’s Spirit Blade to summon Castor on command.  When asked why Castor would encourage taking a weapon that could kill the Azakana, Castor responds 

“You’d never kill Us because We know this is the fate you deserve.” 

A few weeks after the death of Selune wanted posters issued by the Kinkou begin popping up in the territory searching for Shinji for the murder of a Kinkou Acolyte.  This gains the attention of the Navori Brotherhood who’ve been at odds with the Kinkou since the Noxian Invasion.  With eyes all over the countryside its only a few short months before he encounters his old friend, someone he hasn’t seen in years, Asheru.

Overjoyed at reuniting with his friend, the two spend their first night back together, drinking and reminiscing about their shared past but those feelings don’t last.  

“Join us.  We could use someone like you.  Someone with experience.  It’s not everyday someone kills a member of the Kinkou.”

Shinjiro walls up almost immediately, stating that Asheru has no idea what he’s talking about and that it’s much more complicated.  As their conversation turns to argument a deep sadness wells within his heart.  Asheru, his brother, was not the same boy who left Tevasa all those years ago.  

War had hardened his heart and Asheru’s quest for power had blinded him to the reality of what it was the Navori Brotherhood was really doing.  But Shinjiro witnessed it anytime he passed through towns, sometimes first hand.  The way members of the brotherhood would act more as thugs than protectors;  Collecting weekly taxes from those already struggling to get by for their ‘protection;’  The random beatings and ransacking of homes for ‘the cause;’  How they’d ‘borrow’ daughters and wives to ‘relieve stress.’  

He never would have believed it, but seeing Asheru now...was he like that too?  Realizing that Shinji would never join the Brotherhood, Asheru leaves Shinji with a few parting words that confirm Shinji’s worst fears 

“For the sake of our past I’m letting you walk away.  Can’t say the other members will do the same but if you stand in our way then I’ll see to it myself to hunt you down and kill you.  If you’re not with us then you’re against us.”

It’s been four years since he last saw Asheru.  Now twenty-four, the vagabond is wanted dead by the Navori Brotherhood, the Kinkou Order and Castor.  As time passes it grows harder and harder to resist Castor’s influence and it’s only a matter of time before he’s captured and executed by the Kinkou/Navori or he succumbs to Castor’s influence. 

[kodie-ffxiv]

#11 The Man in Red

(TW: Violence)

The young Miqo’te girl had a blanket draped over her, huddling close as the Highlander women kept her arm protectively around her. The Highlander glared at the Flame soldiers, specifically the officer who was standing before them, writing down whatever information he could gather. “Took you all long enough to arrive here, figured you were different from the Blades, thought you had more honor..” she scolded them.

“Ma’am you do realize with skirmishs going on with the Garleans in Ala Mhigo, we can’t be everywhere at once. As soon as we got the order, we got here as quickly as we can.” The Officer replied. “I still need to get as much information as I can to report to my Commander, it matters not if the situation was resolved. I must ask the girl some questions; she was witness to everything that happened.”

The Highlander’s eyes kept locked onto the Officer shaking her head. “She’s been through enough as it is; you really want her to relive what happened? They’re back, they’re safe, that is all that matters, so be on your way..”

“We just want to know what happened that night, and if need to condemn that town so no one else will use it again…”

“I’ll talk…” the Miqo’te spoke softly, looking up towards the Officer. 

The Midlander nodded as he grabbed a chair, sitting in front of the pair, nodding in thanks. “We appreciate this; want to know what happened that night, please tell us your account.”

“The bandit leader was inside where he kept us, counting us like we were nothing more than objects. I heard him say he had an interested buyer visiting in the morning. Once they sold us, he was going to raze this town since they could no longer profit off of them.” She said as the Highlander frowned, hugging the girl closely. “It was someone rushed inside; saying one of their own was missing. That’s when he ordered one of them to grab me, I was already tied. They thought it was someone from here trying to set a rescue, that was then I heard from the leader that he already dealt with some would be hero already…”

The Miqo’te let out a sigh, her ears lowered as it was later on she discovered that was her brother. The Highlander did her best to comfort her during that moment. ���They found their own, his back was to us, they tried to call him, but he didn’t respond. The leader ordered two of them to approach him to see what was going on. As they got close, he turned around, he bloodied, bruised up, gagged and tied, but something was tied to his hands, whatever it was set off a small explosion, even we stumbled from the distance we were in. Then another dropped near by the leader, a head wound that killed him instantly, and then the other that was holding me fell.”

The Flames Officer continued listening, writing down every detail she was mentioning. “They turned towards where they thought the shots were coming from, and in the shadows, there were red glowing eyes, and then stepped out. It was a man in a red coat, wearing a steel mask…with those glowing eyes. The leader ordered the others to go after him, and they charged, but quickly were taken out by this man’s gun. Then he slowly approached where we were, I couldn’t get too far from bein tied…The leader ordered others to arrive with bows and arrows, he managed to either dodge or deflect them, and with ease they were killed. The leader sent everyone at this point, but the man in red….it was like they were nothing to him. He even allowed them to get close; he had some strange blade coming out of one of his gloves and cut them like they were cattle to be butchered. Their leader watched in shock, but when he saw the man in red approach, he quickly ran to me to try and use me as a shield. But the man shot him in the leg, then the man tried to crawl away but he shot his arm, then other arm, I can still hear that man screaming in pain. The man in red grabbed him by the neck with ease, slammed him against a new by wall. The leader was begging for his life, but there was no response from the man in red, just a cold stare in his glowing red eyes. That blade reappeared and went right into the leader’s stomach…and..I saw so much come out of it…”

The Highlander pulled the Miqo’te even closer to her, holding her protectively. “That’s enough; you don’t need to say anymore.”

The Flame Officer finished writing the details, and nodded. “It would seem we do have what we need. An Adventurer rescued captives, and dispatched a bandit group, case is closed. We’ll send a unit on occasion to monitor the mining town until it’s demolished.” He frowned a little as he slipped the node pad into his inner uniform pocket. “I apologize, we should have had someone here as soon as possible even if we’re run thin, and we’ll do our best to make this up…” 

He got no response from the Highlander or Miqo’te as he stood up and left the room, followed by the other Flame soldier. As they walked down the halls, and eventually the exit, the soldier finally spoke up. “Not the first time you’ve heard of this man in red?” 

The Officer shook his head. “No, I know exactly who he is, in fact I’ve sent him on a few of these missions. Kodie Durant is a skilled Adventurer, he’s been around for a long time, but in recent years he’s taken eliminating groups like these, those who prey on the less fortunate and tries to enslave them.”

“What do ya think caused him to change?”

The Officer shrugged. “No clue, but I can tell you something, I wouldn’t want to be in his path if he deemed me one of those. I would rather have a quick death over dealing with him.”

@sea-wolf-coast-to-coast

[kclenhartnovels]

🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻-(obvi u don't have to do em all)-🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻

119 flowers, Lisa. 119. You think I won’t answer all of these? You’re a fool. I’m a fool. I’m going to answer all of them, and they’re all going to be Wolf at the Gates related so I can break your heart again. Buckle up, it’s going to be a bumpy ride. I’m putting it all beneath the cut so that not everyone has to suffer through this. Just you, Lisa. Suffer with me.

🌻 Here we go. Let’s go. First of all, WatG is about 18 years old. It’s older than most of tumblr. That being said, I found a fun game someone else did that has first and last lines of characters, so I’m gonna do that with the major players:

🌻 T’ke: “T’ke” and “I haven't lost it yet.”

🌻 Medvetis: “What has this man done?” and “Isthe, don't.”

🌻 Isthe: Is mute, has no dialogue

🌻 Constantine: “I don’t recognize him.” and “Long live the King.”

🌻 Delgos: “You’re supposed to be socializing, Con—my Prince. I’m not sure your father would be pleased about—”  and “May the stars guide his spirit.”

🌻 Alastair: “Just a few words. Can you spare the time?” and “I am sorry, but we will have to bind your wrists, in order to maintain appearance.”

🌻 Samantha: “Sir Alastair Lobane, am I right?”  and “Well, that could have gone worse.”

🌻 Valerian: “Mine ran off when I was attacked.” and “Away with you, rogue, before I lose my composure entirely.”

🌻 Kamin: [Not counting songs, because his first and last lines are actually both songs] “Any requests, my Lord?” and “If you would allow it.”

🌻 Jinx: “Pitiful crowd tonight.” and “Anger is all I have left, Delgos. Don't try to take that from me, too.” 

🌻 Ashleigh: “Oh, I can hold my own. Why do you ask?” and “Stay in here to sleep tonight, otherwise the men will raid your bags for scraps.”

🌻 Silas: “Only one word? From Valerian? I didn’t think it possible.” and “Dismissed. Both of you.”

🌻 Aashiq: and “Safe journey, little cousin. Don't lose that bright head of yours.”

🌻 Tallest character: Ash, followed by Medvetis

🌻 Shortest character: Kamin, though narrowly, and of course Constantine is next

🌻 Most popular: Valerian 

🌻 Least popular: Silas

🌻 Smartest: T’ke

🌻 Dumbest: Isthe is the least educated, but Con is the biggest dumbass

🌻 Oldest: Major characters only, Valerian. Otherwise, Silas.

🌻 Youngest: Kamin

🌻 Most talkative: V a l e r i a n

🌻 Least talkative: Not counting Isthe, Alastair

🌻 Since it’s pride month, let’s talk about orientations! Main character first! T’ke: Cis, Aro/Ace (touch-repulsed)

🌻 Medvetis: Cis, Demi-romantic, asexual

🌻 Isthe: Trans, ???romantic ??sexual, canonly has sex with a woman, probably at least bi

🌻 Constantine: Cis, super gay both romantic and sexual

🌻 Delgos: Cis, panromantic, pansexual

🌻 Alastair: cis, heteromantic and heterosexual (and so in love with Samantha)

🌻 Samantha: cis, ??? but definitely in love with Alastair

🌻 Valerian: cis (but honestly more gender-flexible if he allowed himself to be), bi but in denial about it

🌻 Kamin: cis, also extremely gay

🌻 Jinx: Cis but genderflexible, aromantic, pansexual

🌻 In the original draft, Samantha’s child from the first marriage died. But there was no real reason for it, and now she and Alastair just get to keep collecting children and they’ll all star in book 3 whenever I get around to it.

🌻 The original original draft was a short story. A short story. A short story. Save me.

🌻 This story has been around so long, the good news is I’ve been able to develop a lot of the world and backstory, such as:

🌻 Three generations of Vendave Kings and what happened during their rule: Marius, Silas, and Constantine

🌻 Two generations of Cielan Kings and their rule: Antony and Kendrick (after he takes out his brothers)

🌻 Two generations of Reckson Kings: [Ash and Xav’s father which I have not named], then Xaviastriuos and Ashleigh fighting over the throne.

🌻 Tawrivers, which was conquered by Vendave during Silas’ rule

🌻 Jinx is one of my favorite characters to write because she’s so unapologetically angry, bordering on feral. She is passionate and injured, and ready to take revenge because no one else will help her and her people.

🌻 Honestly, Jinx would have joined Medvetis and company in a heartbeat, if Valerian and Alastair hadn’t given them shelter and respect first. They are the only reason she didn’t join the rebellion.

🌻 T’ke has dysthymia, and is touch-aversive due to trauma in childhood. He is also very sensitive to sunlight due to his albinism. He wears so many layers both to protect his skin from the sun, and to hide his scarring as much as possible.

🌻 Isthe is mute thanks to a dog attack in his youth, and the attack led to a high fever for many days that nearly killed him. The infection damaged part of his memory, and as a result he has trouble learning new things. This is why T’ke is never able to teach him how to write. He prefers expressive communication anyway.

🌻 T’ke also gets seasick and it cracks me up every time because he’s so annoyed by that fact.

🌻 Valerian has severe agoraphobia, and after he was harassed by bandits in the beginning of the book, he never leaves Angaroth again. Samantha goes in his stead whenever he has to represent the area.

🌻 Alastair has lung problems thanks to his town being razed when he was a child, and severe smoke damage from the fire. It gets progressively worse as he gets older, but he tries very hard not to let it affect his work. 

🌻 Constantine is an excellent swordsman and a terrible horseman. He gets thrown from his horse at least twice over the course of the book. May have been three times. 

🌻 He also almost dies from sickness, gets strangled twice by Isthe, trips up the stairs during a swordfight, and generally gets his ass handed to him over and over again.

🌻 The beginning of each chapter has a journal entry from T’ke. If you take them all out and read it in order, it is a singular letter of sorts explaining his feelings about the whole story.

🌻 Delgos and Alastair have a very quick bromance that stays a strong friendship to the end of the book.

🌻 Alastair is the first person that Delgos comes out to. Unfortunately, Delgos confessing his love for Constantine flies way over Alastair’s head, and the response is more or less “you’re such a good guard, of course you love your king.” Whoops. He tried.

🌻 T’ke makes a binder for Isthe so he stops bruising his ribs with bandages. It then becomes a battle to make sure Isthe takes the binder off every night to sleep so he doesn’t injure himself. 

🌻 T’ke is such the mother of the dynamic trio and he would hate it if anyone points it out.

🌻 That being said, he also spends most of the book making all three of them immune to poisons by gradually introducing them all to it. 

🌻 One of the things that changed very little between initial writes and editing is Valerian’s dialogue. It remains paragraphs, rambling, warm, and ridiculous. I love him.

🌻 I need to make it more clear that Delgos is mixed race from a low-ranking family, because his change from middle child of a merchant sailor to Captain of the Guard speaks a lot about him, and about how much Constantine cares for him.

🌻 Valerian has two pet deerhounds that he adores, and are never used for hunting. They just lay all over everyone in the house instead. They were a gift from some nobility, but he never leaves the house to hunt with them.

🌻 T’ke keeps a pet hawk for a good portion of the novel. Isthe is inexplicably jealous of it.

🌻 Alastair gets incredibly attached to his horses, and names all of them after flowers from his mountain home.

🌻 Aashiq is also very attached to his donkey. 

🌻 Uh, let’s see. Book one is technically Medvetis’ story arc

🌻 Book two is Alastair’s arc

🌻 Book three is the next generation

🌻 T’ke’s story spans books 1 and 2. His journals cause book 3

🌻 Alastair’s sons are identical twins. Poor Samantha.

🌻 Seeing how Alastair was raised by a single man makes Constantine think very long and hard about adopting an heir rather than trying to make one by blood.

🌻 Most of the reason why Silas passed such terrible laws was because he was in love with Elophia, Kamin’s mother.

🌻 Kamin is the youngest of three. His two older sisters were taken to Tawrivers for sanctuary, but Kamin was too young to travel so far, so he was adopted by Jinx’s family.

🌻 Constantine and Kamin are about the same age, and should have been King and chief advisor if Silas hadn’t been a raging bag of dicks.

🌻 Constantine’s mother died from complications of childbirth. Silas blamed Elophia for not saving her.

🌻 Kamin was an unplanned child. They didn’t think that they could have any more children after the two girls. His name roughly translates to gift.

🌻 Which, incidentally, is what Nafal’s name translates to. Aashiq adores his son beyond all measure.

🌻 Jinx is not her real name, but it’s what she’s been called since she was a toddler, and she protects her real name as if she could some day go back to it.

🌻 Harper is Kamin’s title, not his last name. He is, after all, royalty.

🌻 Kendrick is Alastair’s cousin. There’s no accounting for family sometime.

🌻 I fixed Patience’s autonomy, and I can’t wait for her to pop back up later in book 2 or 3

🌻 At one point, Constantine accidentally breaks Medvetis’ nose. 

🌻 It probably wasn’t the first time Medvetis had his nose broken.

🌻 Speaking of single dads, Medvetis was raised by one, too! His mother died from the plague that rocked Vendave and its surrounding lands when he was young, and Cohen took over teaching and protecting him. Medvetis loved his father.

🌻 Oh! Apparently I have a wealth of single dads. Valerian more or less raised his daughter alone, as his wife’s schizophrenia got so bad she confined herself to her room for fear of hurting them. 

🌻 Silas theoretically raised his son alone after his wife died, but let’s be real, Silas didn’t do any raising. The servants did. 

🌻 Delgos was raised primarily by his mother and older siblings; his father was at sea most of the time.

🌻 T’ke was raised by Khalid and the rest of the merchant caravan, and they ruined him. 

🌻 Isthe was raised on the docks with the other street orphans, running with a group of kids and probably one or two pseudo-adults that kept them in line. I have no idea what happened to his parents, but it’s likely they died at sea.

🌻 Delgos really wants to have kids, and Constantine is slowly warming up to the idea. They will likely end up adopting later, and have the discussion about it in book 2

🌻 T’ke hates children. He actually just generally hates people. 

🌻 Medvetis wouldn’t mind having kids, but he would adopt and not have them naturally. As much as he would want kids, he doesn’t want to have sex.

🌻 Isthe loves kids. He loves people. Kids usually find him weird.

🌻 Isthe is also incredibly lucky at gambling, specifically dice games. I guess it balances out his poor luck when it came to the dog attack.

🌻 Isthe isn’t his birth name! He refused to let anyone know his birth name after he was attacked by a dog; he thought someone had used it to curse him. So, he made up a new one.

🌻 Delgos has a tattoo of the Runnemede lion on his chest. (Constantine thinks it’s incredibly hot)

🌻 Isthe gets a tattoo of Medvetis’ wolf on his arm at some point.

🌻 Kamin, of course, has his stars on his cheeks.

🌻 Jinx has the stars on her neck, plus another tattoo in her lower back

🌻 In the dark!AU, Delgos has a tattoo of the Cielan dragon instead :D

🌻 Speaking of defining marks, Medvetis has freckles and it is the most adorable thing

🌻 Also defining, Jinx’s red, red hair.

🌻 Ashleigh’s full name is true Reckson style: Ashleigh en Crowenne Brighton di Reckson

🌻 Originally, Wolf at the Gates and Dragon on the Mountain were one big book named Vendave because I had no idea what to title it. One big book. Thank god I had the sense to cut it in half.

🌻 Book 3 has nothing written on it yet, and only a vague idea of what the heck I’m doing with it.

🌻 Book 2 needs major rewrites but it’s not on the next “to do” list

🌻 I have no idea what any of the characters’ birthdays are, even though Medvetis turned 18 during a battle in the book.

🌻 These dumb kids are all so young in the book, it’s no wonder they suck at everything.

🌻 That’s a lie they mostly just suck at emotional stability and the ability to compromise.

🌻 Literally half the plot would fall apart if they all just sat at a table and talked it out.

🌻 All of the plot would fall apart if Silas hadn’t been a raging bag of dicks when he was alive.

🌻 Honestly I’m so mad that he just died in his sleep. He deserved a worse death and a shorter life but unfortunately the author let him get away with all of it. Damn it.

🌻 I thought a lot about cutting all the songs in WatG, but you convinced me otherwise. And no other beta readers were bothered by it. 

🌻 Have I mentioned yet that I had the best beta readers for this book? Because I had the best beta readers for this book. They were SO helpful.

🌻 I’m both tired of editing it, and very excited about editing it.

🌻 I’m debating on commissioning someone to make a map for me because I don’t want to, but the book really needs it. I have a rough sketch, but that’s it.

🌻 A part of me wants to go back and rewrite the book as pure medifant, instead of low fantasy, but I don’t want to develop a complex magic system, and it would change too many things. I just want it for the aesthetic really.

🌻 That being said, it’s heavily implied throughout the book that T’ke may really be magical, which is fun in a no-magic world. 

🌻 I was able to weave in some of the Ekanti “magic” though, including healing songs and tattoo work! 

🌻 Valerian is slightly magical too in that it seems like he doesn’t need air to keep talking. He just goes without ever pausing for breath.

🌻 When Samantha married Alastair, she takes Valerian under her wing too, and tries to keep him from getting beheaded by the crown, or at least getting his tongue removed.

🌻 Speaking of, an assassin later in the book has his tongue removed. Gross.

[soegster]

D&D: On the Sole Survivor Trope

Every group has at least one. The player whose homeland or town was somehow razed. Reduced to dust by bandits, them, or an evil army, setting their character forcibly adrift in the world. You’d be hard-pressed to get into this game and never find one. 

As a DM, I’d long since made jokes about this trope. I’m infamous among certain playgroups for DMing with a Wile E. Coyote-likeness mug at my side. However, in the first session, players can explain backstories to other players as part of introductions. Every time the trope emerges, I take a large, obvious sip out of the mug. Any player may point this out and explain why, and provided it’s the first time this comes up, they get Advantage on a roll of their choosing in that session. 

But one day, I was handed the opportunity for the joke of a lifetime. To say a silver platter would be an understatement. This was like a solid Platinum DM’s Guide, pages and all. 

The new setting for this regular group was ideally a mystery to the players. I had constructed it to be a small island nation-state. It did have its own sovereignty, but there were no more than six major townships on the entire island (one for each player). Soon it came time for Session 0s with individual players. To spare you lengthy, similar explanations...

...four of my six players had the trope in their backstory. 

I started cackling after the final Session 0, out of the players’ earshot. And I mean Lawful Evil, despicable laughing that would give anxiety to any kickable puppies in a five-mile radius. Because I wasn’t just laughing at the trope. 

I was about to play a very mean-spirited joke.

Session One arrived. I didn’t expect there to be another. 

The players all woke up on a familiar island. One they’d thought they’d moved on from long ago. How had they returned? 

Quickly, the players found that there was nothing of note on the shoreline, so they began to move inland. Eventually, they stumbled on a desolate ruin of what was once a peaceful town. I pointed at the Tiefling. 

“You know this place. You grew up here, and you watched the slaughter of its people.” 

The players, to their credit, did well in RP to console the Tiefling player. After a brief skirmish with a group of marauders that was riding by through the jungles, they went on. 

The next village was alive, but in constant fear of bandits. There were no merchants, and any produce of the town was taken as tribute, or the bandits would kill the townsfolk. The players had started to question if the main plot was to restore order to this nation-state and defeat the bandits. They left, being unable to do anything besides wonder at the odd lack of civil commerce of any kind. 

Then came the tipping point. 

The players cleared through the next stretch of jungle, and found another village in ruins. I pointed at the Halfling. 

“You know this place. You grew up here, and you watched the slaughter of its people.” 

I took care to use the exact same words. 

It was at this point that the Tiefling player, whose village was the first one, started to mull something over. I could see it in her eyes. She was so close to realizing. And then she asked me something along the lines of: 

“Hold on. You said there weren’t any more than six villages here. Why are they all destroyed?”

I sneered, ready to deliver the finishing strike. 

“You already know the answer. You destroyed these villages. Each of you. With only six veritable towns on this island, they could ill afford to lose two-thirds of their civilization to malicious raids by bandits. Now the island lies in shambles, and civilization is an anarchistic mess of kill-or-be-killed.”

The remaining third of my players, who had not destroyed their own hometowns in writing a backstory, were snickering. 

“If that doomed the campaign, why wouldn’t you change the setting, then?” One of the players, who had yet to see the remains of the village they had wrecked, protested. “What do you expect us to do here now?” 

“Well, seeing as the bandits rule everything in immense numbers, no one wants to create a centralized economy for fear of being paid a visit by the bandits and having their life’s work sacked, and the easiest way to live is to forsake an honest life and turn to banditry...I guess the best path is to start pillaging, nerds. You wanted villages destroyed? You get everything that goes with it in this situation.” 

I easily made my Dex save against a flying d20, and subsequently sipped my Wile E. Coyote mug loudly. 

“Point your finger all you want. Throw all the d20s you want. Post recaps of this session anywhere you want. In the end, there’s no one else to blame but yourselves for destroying this setting. You already know that I prioritize your characters over railroading you into my plot, and this is just evidence of that. Have a nice week! I’ll see you next time with a different world.” 

So, kids with tragic backstories, be careful about destroying the place you were born especially en masse. There’s a chance the DM might actually make you answer for it. 

[deaegratia]

A walk on knight’s bread

During her stay there, Nenela learned to love Gridania. The sounds of the wind rustling through the trees, the many different people that lived there in (what seemed like) perfect harmony… The kind conjurers at Stillglade Fane, who helped her so much in her studies. The birds and the waterwheels and of course the kind Mother Miounne, who always had a kettle on to welcome back adventurers from the forest with a cup of tea and a treat. She loved it, and yet… It wasn’t her home. A time came when the conjurers guild had taught her all they could. Gridania would be fine without her. No, Ul’dah was where she was needed most. So she packed her bags, said her goodbyes, and followed the lumber line down south.

When she first made her way to the Shroud, it had been a relaxing carriage ride. On foot, however, the journey took quite a bit longer. Every day was another challenge. Don’t anger the antelopes. Try to avoid catching the attention of bandits. Most importantly, don’t get lost. Though Bahamut’s flames had razed down many of the trees, there were still plenty of places where the wood was like a labyrinth to her. Finally, after a week or so, the scenery began to change. No more trees, but vast stretches of dry land. Thanalan. How she’d missed this.

Highbridge had not existed for very long. Though it was build over a chasm that looked like it had been there for centuries, it was in fact only after the Calamity five years ago that the ground had split open and the bridge had been built. Its people were willing to give her a place to stay for the night, but not for free. If the adventurer wanted to stay, she’d have to do her part in defending the village from the Qirqin as well. Nenela didn’t waste a second and agreed to help them. After all, wasn’t this what adventurers did? To protect, to ease their pain. Surely she could help the Brass Blades stationed there to take on a few oversized rats.

A few, they’d told her. She’d believed them, right until she saw the hordes of beastmen arriving. No wonder the Blades were unable to prevent the villagers from getting kidnapped time and time again. There were so many, and they just kept coming. Nenela was struggling to even keep track of them. 

Wind, earth, water, none of it was enough to defeat them. Strike one down with a rock, another would pop up as yet another attempted to pick her up and carry her off to gods-knows-where. She’d hoped the Blades would offer more help, but as their number dwindled, they decided to cut their losses and abandon their post. And still the villagers would continue to cry out. She fought desperately, but a single Lalafell just wasn’t enough. Exhausted, she fell to the ground, barely even struggling as the bandits took her away. She’d been so close to home… It seemed fate had other plans.

Nenela didn’t know how long it had been since she passed out, but it had definitely been a while. The cave she was in was not like any other place she’d seen before. Judging by the temperature, she was still in Thanalan, but where? As her eyes adjusted to the dim lighting, she noticed she was not alone. A group of a dozen people or so surrounded her, their hands bound and their faces solemn. Some were crying, others simply looked down in quiet acceptance of their fate.

“The lizards claim they will soon bring us before Ifrit for tempering. All of us are as good as dead…”

The girl looked up as that sudden proclamation echoed through the cave. In her groggy state, she had trouble understanding it, nor could she determine who had said it in the first place.

Ifrit�� She’d heard that name before. ‘This place is hotter than Ifrit’s arse,’ or similar phrases about things being extremely warm. Nenela always thought it was simply something people said, not something that actually existed. And tempering? What was that supposed to mean? It sounded like something a goldsmith would do.

Lizards, however… Nenela knew very well what they meant by that. Amalj’aa. Though she had never actually seen any in the flesh, she knew who they were. Beastmen. They’d plunder and kidnap and – her eyes widened as her mind finally connected the dots – they worshipped Ifrit, the Lord of the Inferno.  Of course Qirqin wouldn’t simply kidnap anyone for no reason. They’d sold her and the other stolen villagers to the lizards. Tempering… was that simply a fancy word for kill?

She didn’t have long to think about that, as not long after that a few Amalj’aa entered, bringing in more prisoners. Big strong beasts, more muscle than bone, darker than the darkest coals and adorned with all manner of beads and jewelry. Lizards was too friendly of a word to describe them. They were monsters. The prisoners, on the other hand, were a much more welcome sight. Judging by their uniforms, they were Flame Soldiers. But then she looked at their faces. They were terrified as well. Perhaps it had been too much to hope they would be able to help her.

And then there were those three… A Miqo’te, and two Elezen. Adventurers? More experienced than her, if she had to make a guess. Instantly she felt a bit less embarrassed about getting captured. If people like them had gotten caught, no wonder she hadn’t stood a chance. Right now though, they were asleep. After the beastmen had left, she made her way over to the trio. Remembering her lessons at Stillglade Fane, Nenela deduced the lizards must have cast some kind of sleeping spell on them. A gentle (but firm) slap would likely be enough to wake them up.

The Elezen man bolted upright. “YesmomImgettingupIpromis- Oh.” It took him a second to realize he was not, in fact at home, but in the middle of an Amalj’aa stronghold. The Miqo’te girl slapped the back of his head in a playful manner. “David. Idiot,” she insulted him, though Nenela wasn’t sure if she meant it. The Elezen, on the other hand, woke up in such an elegant manner it was almost as if she had simply woken up from a nap instead of a magically induced slumber. “…Well. That could have gone better, but it seems we are still alive, so I’d call that a success.”

It was only then that they noticed the young Lalafell that had woken them. They introduced themselves as David, Amh, and Furiosa. They were kind enough, but they did not seem very willing to answer Nenela’s questions. How they had gotten here? “As you can see, most likely through that entrance over there. Though I would not be able to confirm it for you, on account of being asleep at the time,” said Furiosa. “Dumb luck, I guess?” said David. “Thancred late,” Amh said, frowning. Well, that was no use at all.

They sat there for a while, until an Amalj’aa broke the silence. “Rejoice, heathens, for your worthless lives shall soon have meaning!” It was time.

To think they were standing in front of a god. It wasn’t what Nenela had imagined at all. When she imagined the gods, they were kind and benevolent. Slightly different in their morals, perhaps, on account of having existed for eternity, but not too unlike the spoken races. But this… The Lord of the Inferno truly was the element of fire personified. Sharp claws, massive horns, and the smell. Like smoke and ash and burning flesh. Her eyes watered and she had trouble breathing. No, she told herself. If I am going to die, I will do so with dignity. There will be no crying today.

“O mighty Ifrit! We bring before You ignorant savages who know not Your godhead! If it please You, Lord, scorch their heathen souls with Your cleansing flame, and mark them as Your own!”

To serve a god that was not your own. To obey his will until the end of your days. Somehow, to Nenela, that sounded like a fate worse than death. In that moment, all she could do is pray. The gods had protected her once before. Surely they could intervene again? Had she not always been faithful? She ignored the tears stinging in her eyes. Please, I beg of you. Do not let him take me.

As she stood there trembling, she heard her fellow prisoners begin to chant. “Oh mighty Ifrit… My one true god… “ The girl waited for her turn, expecting searing heat that would burn her mind away forever, yet all that came was a gentle breeze, not unlike someone blowing on their soup, waiting for it to cool down. Except in this case, she was the soup, and instead of being set aflame she remained cool? She was too terrified to realize that metaphor was not making any sense.

The man, David, tapped her on her shoulder. “Hey… You said your name was Nenela, right?” The girl looked up and nodded. Neither he nor his companions seemed to show any signs of this weird tempering. “Lemme guess. You’ve been having visions, haven’t you?” Nenela wasn’t sure how he knew that, or how that was relevant, but she nodded again. Behind them, Ifrit was raging on and on about how their souls had been tainted and how they would burn for all eternity, but David remained focused and to the point. “Alright, listen Nelly. I’m gonna count to three. You’re gonna grab your cane, and you’re going to heal. I know it’s scary, but you’re gonna keep your eyes on me and you’re just going to do it. Can you promise me that?” She wanted to object, that they were facing a god, that he shouldn’t trust her to keep him alive because ohGodshesgonnaenduplikethatguyintheDeepcroft, and that her name was not Nelly, but in that instant, she realized she didn’t have much of a choice. A final nod, and he quickly ruffled her hair. “Don’t worry kiddo. This’ll be a walk on knight’s bread, I swear.” “What does that even mean?” “Oh, y’know… I’ll tell you when we get out of this alive!”

“Pray forgive my lateness!”

The blonde Hyur who had come running in along with members of the Bloodsworn was late indeed, for Ifrit had already been slain. He was about to congratulate the Scion adventurers on their first primal victory, when he did a double take. One, two… Four of them? He could have sworn there had only been three last time he checked.

“Too late,” grinned Amh, collecting her arrows to put them back In her quiver. Furiosa simply quirked an eyebrow as she wiped the ash from her daggers. David turned around, holding an unconscious Lalafell in his arms. “Say… You wouldn’t happen to have any Phoenix Downs with you, do you?” Thancred scrambled around in his pockets and handed a crumpled feather to the gladiator. “I see the festivities will have to wait, then. Come, let us retreat to more agreeable surrounds. Camp Drybone, shall we say?”

Part three of Tales from the Desert, this time for ‘Nenela fights her first primal”. Though you could also say ‘Nenela gets her butt kicked and never learns what the hell ‘a walk on knight’s bread’ means and then sort of accidentally becomes a Scion?”

David belongs to @thevantass

Amh belongs to @thewanderersminuet

Furiosa belongs to @alternis

[rinskiroo]

Pistolas At Dawn - 12: Reject

The horses were stomping and skittish upon reaching Niima Outpost.  No one blamed them for it.  The air was heavy set with flies and carrion birds, and it seemed a pack of coyotes and been through at some point.  The Rangers left them tied up out past the signpost, partly to calm their nerves, and partly to keep them from stamping through any tracks.  Snap was methodically walking the perimeter of the town, searching for clues.  He was the best tracker Poe had ever seen, so he let the man be and do his own thing.  The right thing to do would be to lay the bodies to rest, build them a funeral pyre, but with so many, it would have to be a communal event.  While Snap scoured the town, section by section, the other four pulled the bodies together and set them alight.  It was back breaking, sweaty, disgusting work, but they all agreed it was best if someone like Unkar Plutt didn't tarry between this life and the next.

Not that Poe was any more superstitious than most folk.  There were indeed things beyond his understanding.  Hell, Maz Kanata was an enigma all her own.  Not that he really thought some mystical energy field was controlling his destiny, but there was no denying there was something.  Sometimes it was better just to go along when she got one of her 'feelings' than to argue.  And she wasn't the only one.  Lately it seemed more and more people were having 'feelings'.

"Is this really what we should be doing?"  Jess asked as she pulled her gloves off and wiped the sweat from her brow. ��"We're supposed to be looking for the Hermit, not the First Order."

"We're still the law in these parts,"  Poe replied as he spit on the ground.  Not that it did much, the awful taste of this place was still stuck to his teeth.  He grumbled at them to get back to work, then headed towards where Snap was crouched down sniffing a leaf or something.

It was a whistle, just subtle enough.  Low and just pitched upwards at the end.  Poe stopped mid-step; he'd know that note anywhere.  He could almost hear the click of her tongue that followed and the rustle of cloth and leather.  He swallowed as his eyes found the cloud of dust being kicked up and though he doubted the whistle he heard, he couldn't doubt the sound of hooves racing across the dirt.  He took off towards the fences, his hat flying off his head as he ran, his bandana falling from around his mouth and flailing around his neck.

In one quick stroke, he had pulled the knot from the wood fence.  His steed, a jet black quarter horse with just a splash of white painted on his face, was already moving when Poe took one step and then another, his hips swinging upward and into the saddle.  The voices of his team were calling behind him, confused as to where he was taking off to, but his focus was on chasing down the ghost.

She was a chestnut Arabian, lean and oh so fast.  She listened to no one, heeded no calls, except those of Shara Bey, his mother.  Shara had been the law when he was a boy, but was shot down whilst chasing a group of bandits that had been attacking wagon trains heading west.  It was a loss Poe had never quite recovered from.  And yet, here she was, sprinting across the dusty plains.  He pushed Black One harder, faster, they needed to catch this apparition.

"Ma!"  he shouted, though it was doubtful his voice could be heard through the cloud of dust or over the thundering of the hooves.  He'd never be able to catch her; she'd always been faster, and it wasn't just her horse.  Shara had been a better rider, better lawman.

She stopped up on the ridge, only about thirty feet away in a straight line, but to reach her, he'd have to ride around.  She'd be gone again by the time he got there.  So Poe stopped as well, horse and rider breathing heavily as he looked up at her, a vision.  While he was worn from the hard ride, she appeared relaxed and composed, sitting high in her saddle with her dark, wavy hair moving around her face in the gentle breeze.  He blinked and rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand; he knew she couldn't be real.

"Be strong, mijo.  Your friends will need your strength."  Her words were on the wind somewhere.  Her voice was clear in his head, but the image of her didn't move, wasn't speaking.

Black One stamped left and right after a moment, uncertain perhaps.  Poe wondered if the horse saw what he saw or thought his rider had gone mad.  "Ma!"  he shouted again.  "Come on home, Ma!"

Shara smiled down at him, warm as he remembered, then looked out across the open lands around them.  Her hands lifted, pulling up on her reins and guiding her chestnut horse away.  Poe gave his quarter horse a quick jab with his heels, pushing them forward to go around and up.  When he made it to the top of the ridge, she had gone.  There was no trace of her on the plains, or in the hills.  There weren't even hoof marks other than his own.

When he finally trotted back into the razed town, it seemed his team had already finished their tasks without him.  They were waiting for him, already on their horses and ready to leave this town of the dead behind them.  "Everything all right, Poe?"  Snap asked.

Poe glanced back over his shoulder, wondering if the ghost of his mother had returned, but she hadn't.  "Yeah.  Find anything?"

"There was an old man in the center of town.  At least, I think that's what he was."  Snap frowned, trying to keep a hold of his wits.  "Pretty sure he was tortured for information.  They headed back east when they were done.  Seems they didn't take anything though.  Place was picked clean by scavengers after they had cleared out."

Poe paused and looked back at Snap.  His brows pinched together in thought and then he glanced over towards Finn.  "Rey said she was here?  Saw the place with her own eyes?"

Finn nodded.  "Yeah, must have been right after it happened.  Said the uh, bodies were still fresh."

He nearly laughed as he shook his head.  They'd called her that before.  Scavenger.  "Always knew there was something a little off about her."

"What?"  Finn said defensively, sitting a bit forward on his horse.

Poe took his hat from Snap as his friend brushed past on his horse.  As he placed it back home on his head, his eyes scanned west and east, his horse trotting in a circle as he decided.  “We’re going back to Jakku.  I’ve got a--”  He groaned under his breath even as the words left his mouth.  “Feeling.” 

[we-are-legion-for-we-are-taco]

A timeline of almost every newspaper clipping in Wolfenstien: The New Order and The Old Blood (Please keep in mind this stuff is a work of fiction)

Three Anarchists Hanged For Treason

Berlin, April 4, 1940 - Three anarchists, one woman and two men, all identified as students and members of a local terrorist group, were executed by hanging yesterday. All of the executed were sentenced to death for high treason after having spread dangerous anarchistic propaganda flyers against the Führer in public squares across Berlin. "Poisonous ideas are spreading within certain cliques in the student community which is a danger to both our nation and the men risking their lives for us on the front every day", said prosecutor Ernst Dietrich when speaking to the crowd gathered to witness the execution. "This kind of behavior must be met with the harshest and swiftest of punishments."

Bomb Raid On Berlin

Berlin, March 17, 1943 - An RAF bomb raid damaged multiple residential quarters in central Berlin last night. The raid caused large fires, with some witnesses describing "a sea of flames" engulfing several houses. Early reports indicate that a dozen civilians have been killed and scores more badly injured. Several people have also been reported as missing after seeking shelter from the bombs.

Wulfburg Aids Injured Soldiers

Wulfburg, Jan. 7 1945 - The hospital in Wulfburg is one of many hospitals throughout Germany focusing on the treatment and physical therapy of soldiers wounded in combat. The hospital's head physician, Dr. Franke, told our reporter about the pride he felt taking care of the war heroes. "It's a joy to go to work each day when you know that what you do is for the benefit of these patriots," said the doctor. "These boys want nothing more than to regain their physical strength so that they can return to the front, and the doctors and nurses here are grateful for the opportunity to support them." During the last year, Dr. Franke has seen the dwindling numbers of injured soldiers. "It's clear that we are winning the war. I've never had so few patients here as I have today," he beamed.

Moscow In Flames

Stockholm, March 16, 1945 - The Red Army were forced to retreat last night from a Moscow engulfed by flames following a week-long German bomb raid. The barrage of mortar fire heard throughout the night and well into early Thursday morning seems to have obliterated what was left of the inner parts of the city the destruction of the city comes just after the German victory at Stalingrad . As of yet, there has been no word on the whereabouts of either Josef Stalin or his high command.

Royal Air Force Down But Not Out!

Liverpool, June 25, 1945 - The Royal Air Force suffered a major defeat yesterday at the Battle over Liverpool. Though major losses were reported on both sides, the RAF were forced to retreat after losing more than 2/3 of their fighters. But even when faced with overwhelming odds, our brave boys in the skies continue to fight for King and Country. This fighting spirit may be what constitutes the very essence of Englishness. "Us Englishmen, we fight until the very end," said a corner shop owner trying to put out a fire raging inside St Luke's Church. "And I'll be damned if I will let some Jerry come here and tell us what to do." Was this man channeling the spirit of RAF Pilot Jameson? Jameson, who was shot down above Liverpool yesterday, burst out of his burning wreckage, his body on fire and armed only with a pistol, and killed four German paratroopers before finally succumbing himself. Even as the enemy stands on our doorstep, the RAF will go to hell and back to kick them out of England. Jolly good, boys!

Medieval Sword Unearthed in Wulfburg

Berlin, Nov. 3 1945 - Archaeologists have unearthed fragments of a sword buried underneath a street in Wulfburg. The sword has been dated to the 10th century and belonged to a medieval knight. The archaeologists leading the dig, Lotti Kohl, commented today on the find with enthusiasm. "The knight was in the service of King Otto, the Holy Roman Emperor, when he was, for unknown reasons, killed on the streets of Wulfburg." It is unclear how this find relates to the razing of Wulfburg which took place in 965 AD, but it strengthens the most popular theory among local historians that a group of knights sent out by King Otto were killed when they were trying to defend the city from invading bandits.

Castle Wolfenstein Assassin Executed

Berlin, 3 Jan. 1946 - It was the Führer himself who put the noose around the neck of the assassin known as "the Castle Wolfenstein terrorist" when he was executed Sunday morning.

Herr Hitler was in a fine mood having recovered remarkably well from the cowardly assassination attempt. As he was led into the execution chamber, the terrorist soiled himself when he saw our Führer in such good health. "Let this be a powerful reminder that all enemies of our great nation will meet a righteous end," said Herr Hitler after the assassin had stopped twitching where he hung on the rope. "It is time to quell the insidious rumors claiming that I was badly hurt by the terrorist and that he managed to escape. They were fabrications manufactured by our enemies. Everyone who is found to repeat these lies will face trial as traitors of the Reich."

The Führer Visits Paderborn

Paderborn, 12 Jan. 1946 - People were out celebrating in the streets of Paderborn in the Bavarian Mountains when the Führer came to revisit the town and its famous Castle Wolfenstein. On the agenda was a meeting with General William Strasse and his lieutenant Helga von Schabbs to discuss the German war effort and the success of General Strasse's research into advanced war technology. "This is just the beginning," said the Führer after the meeting. "The Allied forces are losing on all fronts. Our bombs are falling over England. The American navy is fighting a war they cannot win in the Pacific. No one is standing in our way." He also commended Helga von Schabbs for her archaeological research illuminating the great history of King Otto and his legacy to the German people.

Archaeologists Investigate Wulfburg Church Ruins

Wulfburg, Feb. 13 1946 - A team of archaeologists led by famed archaeologist Helga von Schabbs has turned the old ruined church of Wulfburg into a scene much like that of an ancient Egyptian excavation. "This is a beautiful city with some of Germany's friendliest inhabitants", said von Schabbs during a break from her busy schedule. "But it is also a city which holds many secrets. Secrets which may be important to the future of our great nation." When asked, several of the Wulfburgians were happy with the academic interest, giving them yet another reason to be proud of their city. However, a few people did not share the enthusiasm. "There was a reason the church was burnt down," commented Elsa, one of the city's seniors. "The past is the past and should be left alone, I say."

The Night of Fires Approaches

Wulfburg, Mar. 1 1946 - Preparations are underway in Wulfburg for the Night of Fires - the annual ceremony in remembrance of the fire which burned down the city a thousand years ago. "This will be our most ambitious Night of Fires ever", said the happy mayor when our reporter caught up with him overseeing the preparations in the town square. The city's most skilled wood-makers have been working around the clock to get everything done. A miniature wooden church representing the defiled church, the important center piece of the ceremony, has been built and will be lit up just before midnight of the 3rd to be followed by the traditional dousing of the flames. The church choir will this time be performing the Cleansing Fire song during the ceremony. Of course, what would a Night of Fires be without a big feast before the burning? "Oh, this will be the biggest feast yet! And afterwards, we will serve the traditional Otto cake filled with cream and raspberry jam. It will be a glorious night!" said the mayor.

Extra! Wulfburg Citizens Ordered to Evacuate!

Wulfburg, Mar. 10 1946 - An evacuation was ordered in a statement issued this morning from Berlin. The archaeological expedition near the old church ruins has revealed evidence suggesting that the ground beneath Wulfburg may be unstable. All citizens will be relocated to Frankfurt, where they will be provided food, shelter and work, until these safety concerns have been thoroughly investigated. "I would say that it was very fortunate that we decided to launch this investigation into the history of Wulfburg, otherwise this potential geological catastrophe may never had been discovered", said Frau Obersturmbannführer Helga von Schabbs early this morning.

Sweden Signs Peace Treaty!

Berlin, March 14 1946 - Early Monday morning, a peace treaty was signed between Swedish King Gustav V and Adolf Hitler. After a month of arctic warfare in the Swedish north, our brave German boys broke through the frontline and captured the iron ore mine in Kiruna, a strategically important location for the war effort. With the surrender of the Swedish Government the parliament was disbanded and the Swedish monarchy pledged loyalty to Germany and Adolf Hitler. With this peace treaty comes new trading agreements where Swedish iron ore will be shipped exclusively to Germany, providing a huge boost for the stagnating Swedish economy. After signing the peace treaty, Adolf Hitler was taken on a tour by Dr. Gunnar Dahlberg of the State Institute for Racial Biology founded in 1922, the world's first of its kind. The Führer was very impressed with the facilities and commended Sweden for their contribution to this important field of research.

Normandy Defense Museum To Open Next Week

Paris, March 15 1946 - Two years after the failed Allied invasion of Normandy in June 1944, the Wehrmacht in cooperation with the People's Front is ready to inaugurate the first Normandy Defense Museum. Spread out on 3 beaches, the museum is connected by an underground metro and will feature tours of the bunkers, encampments and the beaches themselves. 156,000 Allied soldiers died during the attempted invasion of Normandy. Only 89 German heroes lost their lives. The failed invasion was subsequently dubbed "D-Day" by the Allied aggressors, where the "D" stands for the English word for "Death", and is perceived by many to be the final nail in the coffin for the already strained Anglo-American alliance. When asked about the speed of which the museum was built, the Chief of the Museum remarked: "It's poetic justice. The museum was built by the enemies we captured during the invasion. They came here to destroy our Fatherland, but ended up building a monument to their own defeat."

Nazis Constructing Super Weapons

London, July 5, 1946 - Reports out of Berlin report that the Nazis are constructing an arsenal of super weapons to be deployed on the battlefield. The recent introduction of highly advanced war technology has changed the course of the war, but the Allied commanders are still confident they will win this before the end of the year. "What the Nazis have in military technology, they lack in strategic know-how," commented Commander Wilkinson yesterday when we contacted him for an interview.

"I Want Peace" Says Führer

Berlin, Jul 10, 1946 - The future of humanity is at stake. In a rare interview exclusively for this newspaper, discussing the war effort and the values that make the German race so unique and superior, our beloved Führer delivers his vision for the world after the war. "Make no mistake about it. I want my people to have what is rightfully ours. The English, the Russians and the Americans and all other inferior parasites who breed like vermin will kneel before the master race. This I can promise you.

America Loses Naval Supremacy

Tokyo, August 20, 1946 - "The Americans are on their knees," Field Marshal Franz-Gustav Beyers told the gathered reporters during today's press conference. The superior German submarine fleet, accompanied by its loyal Japanese allies, has helped Germany achieved a major victory in the Pacific, with more than half of the American fleet destroyed at the Battle of Leyte Gulf alone.

Mystery Man Rescued by Maławieś Fishermen

Warsaw, August 27, 1946 - A fishing boat today rescued a man floating on a piece of wood in the Baltic sea. The man was taken to a hospital in Maławieś where his condition was stabilized. Doctors say the man has suffered extensive head trauma and is unresponsive to outside stimulus. The unidentified man will be transferred to the Zakład Psychiatryczny Maławieś for psychiatric treatment.

The Soviet Union Surrenders

Moscow, December 12, 1946 - The cold Russian winter bites hard, but one could not tell looking at the rosy, smiling forces of the victorious German army and the liberated Russian people. The last battle against the Red Army took place in Izhevsk, following their month-long campaign to seize the Russian capital. A campaign which, after numerous setbacks and hundreds of civilian casualties, caused the Russian people to turn against their own army. With nightly bomb raids by the German Air Force on the Red Army's military factories in the Ural region, it was merely a matter of time before the Russian forces would start to lose their morale. The murderous tyrant Josef Stalin is yet to be found, but there are rumors circulating that he may have been assassinated by his own men.

Regime Crosses The Atlantic!

Vancouver, January 3, 1947 - Earlier this week, a German submarine was sunk in the Cabot Strait just a few miles off the coast of Cape North. Today, hundreds of ships crossed the Atlantic and the first German troops set foot upon Canadian soil and the invasion has begun . "Now is the time to be brave," said the Prime Minister in an emergency radio broadcast. "It's now or never! Our boys at the frontline need your support. To defend our homeland. To defend our freedom!"

Triumph In The East!

Berlin, April 4, 1947 - It was a devastating defeat for the Russian resistance when the German flag was raised on the western side of the river Volga this morning. In a statement to our reporter on site, Field Marshal Friedrich Ritter said that the victory is not only thanks to our hard-working and dedicated troops, but also the result of a new weapon that was deployed for the first time in battle. "The Panzerhund is a mechanical, autonomous beast of war that cannot feel fear and cannot feel remorse. It is the purest form of killing machine and it will tear the Russians apart, limb by limb.

Japan Pushed Back - Another Threat Approaches

Chongqing, March 7, 1948 - It was a proudest moment for the Republic of China and the People's Liberation Army as the Japanese were pushed back into Hubei province. Yet from the north, another dark menace approaches at a swift pace. Nazi Germany has defeated the Soviet Union and is now moving towards China. During a rousing speech earlier today, the Chairman spoke of his faith in the Chinese people. "A unified China cannot be defeated", he said. "A unified China cannot be conquered. A unified China will never surrender."

Finally! The British Tyranny Comes To An End

London, June 21, 1948 - As if blessed by the sun, the German flag hung high this morning over Buckingham palace to mark the end of a tyrannical monarchy which has plagued the English people for centuries. Field Marshal Gerolf Feigenbaum, who lead the British invasion, cautioned that armed resistance is to be expected, but the majority of the British people will soon realize how they have been fooled by the British government's war-mongering leaders. Following the surrender, the whole of the Commonwealth falls under German rule and the remaining armies have been ordered to stand down.

Victory in Asia!

Berlin, July 8, 1948 - Early Monday morning, a special assault team launched an attack on the last stronghold of the People's Liberation Army. Within hours, the Republic of China surrendered unconditionally. Experts commented that the Japanese government now have no choice but to give up their territorial claims in Asia. Sources close to Field Marshal claim that a plan is being drawn up for both China and Japan which will transition the two countries into servant states with separate governments and military. These states will, of course, be supremely government by the superior Nazi empire.

Atomic Bomb Hits America

Paris, December 21, 1948 - The largest bomb ever invented was dropped 13 hours ago on New York City, largely decimating Manhattan and killing over 200,000 people. "It's an atomic bomb," said our Great Leader in a radio broadcast speech to the public. "Twenty thousand times more powerful than the biggest bomb ever created before. But more than a bomb, this the beginning of the end for the Americans.

America Surrenders

Washington, December 24, 1948 - Speaking to the American people in the falling snow on Christmas Eve, the President of the United States facing complete obliteration declared the government's total surrender to the Nazis . The announcement comes just days after the atomic bomb was dropped on New York. "This final act of violence may have saved millions of lives that would have resulted from a land invasion of America," said the German leader in a press statement following the announcement. "I applaud the President's speech, a spectacular show was put on by the invading troops parading down the streets of Washington to the roaring sound of German jet fighters passing overhead. Even more spectacular were the massive mechanical beasts known as "Panzerhunden", or "armored dogs", hulking over the crowds.

The Liberation Of America Has Begun

Washington, January 7, 1949 - The honorable Wehrmacht peace troops embarked on a nation-wide victory tour this week. The goal of this operation is to liberate the oppressed American people and protect them from dangerous insurgent elements. All remaining American military personnel are advised to stand down and report to the nearest German checkpoint. Once there, they will be issued a labor card assigning them to work on rebuilding the country according to the superior cultural standards of the new regime.

Editorial: Germany Has Betrayed Us!

Rome, October 13, 1949 - And so we must face the bitter truth. We, the Italian people, have been fooled into thinking that our northern ally would be our country's salvation and a collaborator in rebuilding Italy to its former glory. Reports from the north are coming in describing German tanks and infantry turning against our soldiers and attacking our own people. Witnesses describe horrible scenes of whole villages burnt and plundered. We are now just days away from a complete invasion and our weak government is incapable of doing anything about it. I advise all Italians not to surrender. Do not bow down to the will of the invaders. Rise and take arms! Do whatever you can to fight back the tyranny! Rise for freedom!

First German Lands On Moon

Berlin, July 21, 1951 - At 3:56 yesterday afternoon, astronaut Hans Armstark become the first man to walk on the moon. First contact with the moon's surface was made 30 minutes after Armstark and his co-pilot Emmerich Otto steered the lunar module to its landing spot in an area known as the Glimmer Bowl. After the landing, the two astronauts began their adventure on the moon by planting the beautiful flag of the Reich. They then started collecting soil and rock samples for further analysis back on earth.

Last Light In England

Paris, September 17, 1951 - The stalwart resistance of the brave people of London has been quelled, claim sources inside London. After the August Uprising, which had seemed like a turning point for the resistance fighters, the German tyrants unleashed their latest machine of oppression - a monstrous thing called the London Monitor. Eyewitnesses reports describe the fight as a massacre with the cobblestone streets drenched in the blood of the brave resistance fighters crushed or, combat units then proceeded to move from block to block systematically taking out the last remnants of freedom fighters.

General Awards Local Asylum Doctor

Warsaw, March 4, 1952 - Dr. Krzysztof Oliwa was awarded today by General Wilhelm Strasse for his services to the Reich in researching mental illnesses. The General noted in his speech the importance of the work carried out by Dr. Oliwa and his peers. "Without people like Dr. Oliwa, society would grind to a halt. The lunatics would be running the asylum," he said to the amused crowd.

Mold Infestation In Berlin

London, May 15, 1953 - It's fair to say there's some sort of poetic justice in this. Reports from our resistance friends in Berlin suggests that a new type of mold spore has started infesting structures made out of super concrete used by the Regime. It has started festering in the massive underground ventilation system and is spreading throughout the city. Friends of the resistance! This could be a major advantage for us. The mold seems to corrode the stability of the concrete, making it easier to destroy structures that are important to the Regime in Berlin.

Benevolent Liberators Guard China's Borders

Shanghai, October 25, 1953 - Thanks to the ingenuity of German engineers, the Great Wall of China has been reinforced and upgraded by our benevolent German liberators. Hundreds of powerful automatic flak cannons have been installed along the Wall, guarding the air space from potential invaders from the Mongolian territories. Elite German troops have also been stationed from one end to the other to guard the border. This is a great act of generosity bestowed by our benevolent liberators symbolically marking the beginning of a new era of peace in Asia.

Dr. Oliwa's Miracle Retreat - A Family Business

Malawies, December 19, 1956 - Established by Dr. Franciszek Oliwa in 1824, the Zaklad Psychiatryczny Malawies has long been a haven for people suffering mental afflictions. In a revealing interview, the current director of the establishment, Dr. Krzysztof Oliwa, speaks about the trying years during the war and how he was helped by General Wilhelm Strasse to get his business back on its feet. "I would not be here today, if it wasn't for General Strasse," said the doctor when greeting us on the asylum courtyard.

Gibraltar Bridge Opened

Madrid, October 3, 1957 - The biggest bridge ever built was finally inaugurated yesterday evening in front of a gathered crowd of top Nazi politicians as well as specially invited upstanding citizens in the area. The honor of cutting ribbon went of course to our beloved leader who was flown in from Berlin this morning and held a short but powerful speech afterwards in front of the impressive construction crossing the Gibraltar Strait. "I was moved to tears," said Wilma, a local shop owner. "He has such a way with words." She wasn't the only one moved to tears. Günther Grünwald, head engineer of the project, received a special thanks from our leader. "I am speechless," said Grünwald afterwards. "I don't know what to say."

Animal Hybridization Soon Reality?

Rome, September 2, 1960 - A new paper released today revealed the results of recent research into animal hybridizations by a group of bio-engineers at the London Nautica. "I wouldn't rule out a crocoduck in the not-so-distant future," said a happy scientist when asked about the practical implications of the research.

What Happened To The Maławieś Serial Killer?

Maławieś, October 8, 1960 - It has been almost 5 years now since the murders stopped, but people have not forgotten the ruthless serial killer of Maławieś. What drove this killer to murder innocent German men with such calculated and cold-hearted brutality? Why could the authorities not stop him? We take a look into the investigation and how the murders still haunt the people of Maławieś.

Camp Commander Plans New Quarry

Zagreb, October 9, 1960 - Following the discovery of more limestone deposits outside Belica, Croatia, Commander Irene Engel of Camp Belica revealed her plans to build a second camp site. "As limestone is such a crucial ingredient in the manufacture of super concrete, which is the building block of our new world, this new quarry will ensure that the expansion of our lebensraum across the globe can unfold at an even faster pace," said Commander Engel when unveiling the plans to the gathered press today.

Armed Lunatics Escape Maławieś Asylum!

Warsaw, October 9, 1960 - Two dangerous mental patients went on a murder spree today in the Zakład Psychiatryczny Maławieś, killing patients and staff indiscriminately. The pair was seen fleeing in a car after killing the law enforcers sent to stop them. The patients are male and female, the man described as blonde and blue-eyed in his forties and the female in her mid-thirties with brown hair and blue eyes. "These degenerates are to be considered armed and dangerous. Do not try to be a hero if you see them," the Maławieś police spokesman warned the public of today's press conference.

Art Dealer Arrested

Vienna, October 10, 1960 - Vienna art dealer Astrid Kopf was arrested today on the charges of keeping and selling illegal art. Among the extensive art collection in her possession police found numerous examples of degenerate art, including work by Austrian born Gustav Klimt. The indecent art was confiscated by the police and will be destroyed once an extensive analysis of the works has been performed. Kopf's attorney commented that she was truly sorry for what she had done and that she would not contest the accusations.

Creating the Perfect Mind

Brussels, October 10, 1960 - As one of the key figures in computational science, Dr. Ernst Brandt was the inventor of the first AI system to be used in one of General Strasse's war machines, the Panzerhund. Now, his gaze is fixed on the next challenge: the creation of the smartest non-human intelligence in existence. "There are many benefits for society if such an artificial being could be created," said the soft-spoken doctor to us when we met up with him last week in the Modern School of Computer Science in Brussels. "Not least because it can help us automatize the process of determining who is a decent citizen and who is not." It is a tantalizing thought indeed, which is why General Strasse has granted Brandt an increased funding to his research project.

Serial Killer On The Loose - Murder Duo Suspected

Berlin, October 11, 1960 - The rash of murders which has plagued the city for the last couple of months may be the work a degenerate murder duo, sources close to the investigation say. So far, five people have been killed. Each victim has found dismembered and scattered throughout the sewers. Witness reports speak of two strange men, most likely mentally and physically disabled, lurking around the crime scenes. "They did not look like normal, decent Berlin folks to me," says one of the witnesses. "Must have been them who did this awful thing."

Die Käfer World Tour Begin In Berlin

Berlin, October 11, 1960 - Next month, the dynamic four will enter the stage inside the world famous Volkshalle to perform music from their latest album "Das blaue U-boat". Tickets to the show have already been sold out in record time. "It's just phenomenal, the response we've had on this latest album," said the band's manager, Wolfgang Trapper. Die Käfer, who got themselves in trouble last week when they forgot to thank the Führer before starting their concert, has also announced they will star in a new TV-show about the adventures of world famous boy band.

New Limestone Deposits Discovered In Croatia

Zagreb, October 11, 1960 - A rich deposit of limestone has been discovered a few kilometers north of Belica, Croatia. The geologist who surveyed the site says that there is an abundance of the special composition of limestone that is very suitable for the manufacture of super concrete, the material used by the Reich architects when constructing new buildings. "This could be our biggest find yet," commented the geologist when we rang her up yesterday.

Escaping Prisoner Eaten By Panzerhunden

Berlin, October 12, 1960 - A prisoner trying to escape Eisenwald last week found himself in the belly of the beast when he was eaten alive by one of the guard Panzerhunden. The guards tried to pull out the prisoner from the metal jaws of the Panzerhund but the superiority of Reich technology made the rescue attempt futile. The prisoner was a convicted murderer and rapist who will certainly not be missed by anyone.

Inside The Siberian Training Grounds

Moscow, October 12, 1960 - Located near the northern part of the Ural mountains, not far from the Karasee, the Deathshead's Commando training camps are considered to be the toughest in the world. In a series of investigative reports, we reveal how these fierce combatants manage to live through their days in extreme cold temperatures and how it makes them the superior warriors.

Scientists: Manhattan Liveable In Just 5 Years

Berlin, October 12, 1960 - Manhattan has been a radioactive wasteland for the past decade. There have been few attempts to go into the forbidden zone because of the risk of lethal exposure to radiation. But now, scientists believe they may have a way to turn the radioactive ground zero of New York into a livable environment in just five years. "The technology could finally make atom bombs safer to use, without destroying the environment," said Professor Johaan Treudt during this morning's press conference.

Editorial: Is The Terror Threat Over?

Berlin, October 13, 1960 - A strange feeling of serenity comes over me as I walk my morning promenade along Unter den Linden. At first, I struggle to understand what this feeling comes from and why I haven't felt it for so long. And then it hits me. For the last six months there has been no terrorist activity. No ruthless killing sprees against innocent civilians. No car bombs in peaceful neighborhoods. No suicide attacks on public transports. Has the Secret Police, once and for all, won the war against terrorism?

EXTRA: Prisoners Escape Eisenwald

Berlin, October 13, 1960 - Early morning a small group of prisoners escaped from Eisenwald Prison. The prisoners were described by the police as highly dangerous murderers, rapists and degenerates. They advise the public to stay alert for people displaying deviant behavior and report anything that may help them track down these individuals.

Fossil Of New Species Discovered in Dorset

Lyme Regis, October 15, 1960 - Dorset, affectionately known as "Jurassic Coast", has been the focus point of the scientific world community for the last month when the fossil of a new species of marine reptile was uncovered. Paleontologist Helmut Lehmann has been trying to find a way to recreate extinct animals for a suggested prehistoric zoo. "These latest findings could be just what we've been looking for," said the professor when we met him at a local café this week. "And if we cam harness these animals correctly, they may be beneficial for out military too." Dinosaurs instead of tanks? We'll just have to wait and see.

Crime Rate Down In Quarantine Block

London, October 15, 1960 - Police are seeing a trend of diminishing crime rate in the London quarantine blocks. "It is quite safe now for the denizens of the quarantines to take a stroll down the streets," said Police Chief Bruno Winkler. "Murder cases are of a historic low." He added that the benevolent treatment of the citizens by the new regime has had a positive effect on the decent folk of the city. "We are also seeing an increase in the number of reports filed on deviant behavior by both neighbors and family members alike.

Coal Miners Happy With New Labor Rules

Birmingham, October 15, 1960 - Representatives of the coal miners of Reichsgae Britannien announced today that they were very pleased with the new labor regulations suggested by the London office. "These new regulations will ensure good working conditions while increasing the overall productivity of coal mining in the region," said Reichstanhalter Neumann when interviewed. A group of coal miners in Birmingham confirmed their satisfaction with the new regulations this morning. "It's good that our leaders think about our health," said father of two James Brixton. "Things have really changed for the better since the war."

London Nautica Bombed By Terrorists

London, October 16, 1960 - A suicide bomber detonated explosives packed into the trunk of a small car at the entrance of the London Nautica Research Center early yesterday morning, killing dozens of employees working at the facility and injuring hundreds. Officials say it's the first attack they've had in London for years and it comes just months after the anniversary of the August Uprising, where scores of degenerates tried to cast the upstanding citizens of the city into anarchy and mayhem.

Degenerate Killers Captured!

Berlin, October 16, 1960 - The pair of degenerate serial killers stalking Berlin has finally been captured, said the Chief of Police at a press conference this morning. The degenerates were quickly diagnosed by a psychiatrist as having several mental deficiencies causing violent and unpredictable behavior. A trial will commence, after which the pair will most likely be hanged for murder.

Degenerate Killer Duo Executed Today

Berlin, November 7, 1960 - The crowds that gathered on the streets and squares of the city laughed and cheered when the degenerate serial-killer duo were executed today on live-TV. "I feel so much safer now, knowing those two animals are no longer around," said one of the on-lookers. "A friend of friend of mine was killed by those bastards," shouted another man. If nothing else, this is a valuable lesson to other degenerates out there that justice will eventually find them all.

Editorial: Resistance Cells Reactivated?

Berlin, November 7, 1960 - Many of us thought that after almost half a year of inaction, the terrorist cells close to or in Berlin had finally been wiped out. But with the escape of a key resistance member a few weeks ago, recent disturbing events point to one or more cells having been reactivated. The headless body of one of General Strasse's top commanders was found on the bottom of a river close to Gdynia, Poland just two days ago. Maybe the six months of peace were just the calm before the coming storm?

Terrorist Hunt In Berlin

Berlin, November 9, 1960 - The police are conducting a wide search through Berlin city in an attempt to find leads to potential active terrorist cells. Citizens of Berlin are required to comply with authorities or face severe criminal charges. The search has so far led to several interesting leads according to police officials. In relatedness, a man was killed early this morning when a group of men accused him of harboring terrorists in his shop. Police said the man most likely had nothing to do with terrorism and that it was all a tragic mistake.

Belica Limestone Quarry Attacked By Terrorists

Berlin, November 9, 1960 - Following the horrific attack of an unknown terrorist cell on the Belica limestone quarry, the quarry commander Irene Engel was awarded a medal by our beloved Fuhrer for her bravery in defending against the crazed attackers. "The Commander is currently recovering in the Reich hospital in Berlin and wants to spend this time with her family," said a representative of Frau Engel.

Paris Building Collapses - Architect Executed

Paris, November 13, 1960 - A court ruled yesterday evening the architect Pierre Meyer as guilty of manslaughter and criminal negligence. The architect was executed just two hours after receiving his sentence. The sentence comes three months after a newly built high-rise constructed by Meyer collapsed and killed 134 people. Since the building was made with indestructible super concrete, it was only natural that the official investigation into the accident would quickly turn its focus from the building material to the architect of the building. "Justice has been swiftly served," commented Judge Lenkmann after the execution to the gathered press

African Mortality Rate Down 100% Since War

Casablanca, November 13, 1960 - A new study conducted by a committee appointed by our beloved Leader has found that the mortality rate in Northern Africa has dropped by 100% since the war ended. The study notes that the change of regimes in the region and the introduction of decent German values has contributed extensively to this phenomenal change. Southern Africa remains a chaotic spawning ground for terrorists and anarchists.

Transforming Sahara Into A Green Paradise

Casablanca, November 13, 1960 - You may have seen the gleaming silver monoliths when flying overhead, but few know what they actually are. "We are testing technology which could be used to transform other planets into places where Germans could live in the future," said space engineering Faust when we caught up with him for an interview. Faust, who has been living for the past half year in the desert, describes the incredible new research project as a potential game changer for the future of our race. If Sahara can be transformed into a lush garden of Eden, why not Mars, or Venus? "The possibilities may be endless," commented the space engineer with a humble smile.

Labor Camp Planned On The Moon

Berlin, November 15, 1960 - New plans for the construction of labor camps on the moon were revealed today by Dieter Lang, the head of the lunar base project. "Not only will we be able to mover undesirable elements of society off the earth, away from the decent citizens, we can also put these degenerates to work on mining Wolframite," said Lang when we phoned him this morning. Wolframite, a rare mineral which has so far only been found on the moon, is currently being extracted by remote controlled drones, but the process is slow and inefficient. The new labor camps would be constructed in underground mine shafts and feature almost completely automatized correctional technology, such as guard drones and automatic sentry guns, to keep prisoners from escaping.

Study: New World Peaceful & Prosperous

Berlin, November 15, 1960 - The world has never been more peaceful than it is right now, new study proves. Germans are wealthy and healthy and according to the study, they are happier than before, content with their lives and have a positive outlook on the future. Furthermore, our lebensraum almost covers 75% of earth's habitable places and expansion into space is coming soon. Many analysts predict the next expansion will take us to Venus.

Terrorists Attack Gibraltar Bridge

Casablanca, November 15, 1960 - A terrorist attack struck the Gibraltar Bridge in the middle of rush hour Thursday morning, leaving hundreds dead and thousands more injured. Officials believe that a fanatical group of anarchists are behind the attack. But if the goal was to destroy the hard labor of the thousands of construction workers who put their heart and soul into realizing the Gibraltar Bridge project, it seems the terrorists have failed. "They hardly put a dent in it," laughs the head of the project.

Biggest Gun Ever Constructed

London, November 15, 1960 - The Super Weapons Division of our military has created the largest weapon in the world. In the vast darkness of space, far above Earth, looms a gigantic orbital mirror which can harness the power of the Sun itself - the Sonnengewehr! In the center of the mirror, a 2.5 kilometer long space station juts out, aimed directly at Earth. When activated, the Sonnengewehr focuses the Sun's energy into a death ray capable of incinerating entire cities and boiling the oceans. "With this weapon we can truly strike down on the anarchists and terrorists lurking in the darkest corners of the Earth, without sending in our brave troops to their potential deaths," commented the head of the Sonnengewehr project, Hans Grubst. "The risk of collateral damage is minimal, if not non-existent."

Fish & Chips Not So Popular

London, November 15, 1960 - New study finds that Londoners' long-standing relationship with fish and chips is coming to an end. Instead, the decent folks of the city have developed a craving for a more wholesome dish: sauerkraut and sausage. "This is wonderful news," said the Minister of Culture in a telephone interview this morning. "Fish and chips is bad for your health. Sauerkraut and sausage is clearly superior."

London Degenerates Riot

London, November 15, 1960 - In light of recent tumultuous events in the city, the London Police organized a press conference to clarify the situation. "The recent outbursts of violence and anarchistic behavior in the quarantine blocks is starting to escalate into an uncontrollable situation" said the chief of police. Last night hundreds of degenerates gathered in public places to riot but were quickly put to a halt when the police deployed the London Monitor. "The operation was an incredible success. The Monitor killed every degenerate without any collateral damage whatsoever". said the chief of police in this morning's press conference. "But it's not over. We have to be swift when dealing with these sorts of people. If you can call them people".

[newstfionline]

Why It’s Easy—And Hard—To Get A Postcard All The Way From Timbuktu

Clair Macdougall, NPR, Sept. 22, 2018

These days, not many tourists go to the legendary city of Timbuktu.

Indeed, the U.S. State Department advises: “Do not travel to Mali due to crime and terrorism.”

But you can still send a postcard to a family member, a friend or even yourself, all the way from the fabled, mud-walled city.

Postcards from Timbuktu was established in 2016 by Phil Paoletta, an American hotel owner from Cleveland, and Ali Nialy, a 29-year-old guide from Timbuktu.

The goal was to make up for some of the income lost by tour guides after the devastation of the tourist industry, which once brought an estimated 200,000 people a year from all over the world to Mali. Many of them came to visit the city of Timbuktu, a World Heritage site known for its spectacular mud mosque and ancient Islamic manuscripts and annual music festival, the Festival Au Desert (the event has been suspended indefinitely).

The worst time for the city was the 10 months, starting in 2012, that jihadists took over. They brutalized the local population, smashed Sufi shrines and razed restaurants and bars. French and Malian forces pushed the jihadists out in 2013, but the tourism business has never recovered.

The idea for a postcard project came about after a friend sent Paoletta a card from United States, the first piece of mail he had received in his six years in Mali. That made him remember how nice it was to get mail--and got him thinking about the possibility of sending postcards from Timbuktu.

That same day he met Nialy, an unemployed tour guide and friend from Timbuktu. Nialy had run tours for Paoletta’s business partner, the co-owner of his hotel, the Sleeping Camel, and operator of a tour company.

Paoletta asked Nialy if the post office was functioning and wondered how long it would take to send a postcard to, say, the United States--and whether sending a postcard from a place that’s often referred to as the “end of the earth” could be a viable business. They did a test run and a card reached a U.S. address in a matter of weeks.

So Paoletta set up a website, Nialy gathered a team of guides to handle the logistics and they launched the venture.

Nialy and other guides accept that tourists likely won’t come back for a long time, given the ongoing insecurity. This year he has only worked with a handful of tourists, who must be escorted by heavily armed police and stay in hotels flanked by armed guards. He advises them against staying for longer than 24 hours, due to the threat of kidnapping. Nialy also acts as a fixer for journalists.

But like many of the other guides in Timbuktu, he is deeply attached to the city, his hometown, and doesn’t want to move. “I like it, and I don’t want to leave,” he says.

“We feel indebted to them because when tourism was thriving, we were all doing well,” says Paoletta of the guides. “Now we’re sort of doing okay [at his hotel] because we have these U.N. clients and NGO clients who are in Bamako.” But that isn’t any help to Timbuktu.

Paoletta lives in Bamako, the capital of Mali, some 600 miles from Timbuktu. He works with a local company to print a variety of postcards, which are displayed on the website. They range from images of turbaned members of the ethnic Tuareg group on camels to black-and-white frames of old camel caravans. Either Ali or one of his friends or family members transport the cards by road back to Timbuktu.

Paoletta publicized the initiative through Facebook and Twitter accounts and ads on Instagram. Customers vary, he says. They include postcard collectors, people who have traveled to Timbuktu or worked in Mali or people who have seen documentaries on the country and some who want to send a postcard as a joke.

The company pays local guides to write the message requested by the customer.

Since 2016, the company has sent out 1,958 postcards to countries in Europe, to the U.S., to a raft of Latin American countries, to Asian countries and to neighboring nations in Africa. They also sell the work of Mali’s last master calligrapher, who is training others in the art, and offer jewelry, handbags and salt from the Sahara desert.

The cost is $10 per card. The guides who write the messages and handle the mailing can make between $2 and $4.50 per card, depending on postage costs.

It turns out to be more complicated than you might think to get a postcard from Timbuktu to, say, Kentucky or Chile or South Korea.

Paoletta sends the orders to the guides in Timbuktu via WhatsApp. They then handwrite the messages requested by customers on the card (usually in English but in various other languages, including Russian, French, Italian, German, Dutch, Chinese, Thai and Spanish). People often request birthday messages, quirky notes, love letters. Sometimes customers ask the guides to write about their day in Timbuktu.

The guide will then take the postcard to the post office in Timbuktu, where one of the two workers will punch the card with an inky blue stamp reading “Toumbouctou: La Ville Mystérieuse,” place a stamp on the side and give it back to the guide. (That’s the French spelling for the city’s name, which means “the well of Buktu” in Tamashek, the language of the Tuareg people.)

“Our only customer is Ali,” says Nana Oumou Maïga, one of two postal workers. She may be exaggerating--but just a little.

Now comes the tough part: getting the cards to Bamako, where they can be mailed via airmail. Vehicles delivering mail on the bumpy stretches of road from Timbuktu to Bamako are often hijacked or robbed by bandits.

So the guide will give the cards to a friend of Ali, who regularly travels on the U.N. mission flight, the only regular flight in and out of the desert city.

Next, a staff member from the Sleeping Camel picks the cards up at the airstrip in Bamako and brings them to the post office to be mailed.

It takes anywhere from three to five weeks for a card to arrive at its final destination.

The initiative employs around six guides part-time and has employed up to 10 when demand has been higher. When there is an order of larger batches, say 100 cards, the guides can earn a decent income in a country where the average gross national income per capita income is US $770.

The guide is paid using mobile money, transferred via cellphone.

“Opportunities for work in Timbuktu and in the north in general are extremely limited right now. These guys were in the once-thriving tourism sector that has completely collapsed since 2012,” Paoletta says.

“I think it’s really a very good initiative,” says Mamadou Tapily, a spokesman for a network of Malian tour guides.

Customers are happy to send postcards from Timbuktu because they’re helping the locals and because of the novelty factor.

When Cheryl Cullick, a postcard collector from Bellevue, Kentucky, found out that she could order cards online from Timbuktu, she wondered: “Is this for real?”

Cullick didn’t know exactly where Timbuktu was and had only heard it referred to in “literature.”

Cullick has been collecting postcards since her college days in the 1980s. She rarely travels outside the U.S. and seeks postcards from places she’d like to go.

Cecilia Op de Beke, from Falls Creek, Virginia, lived with her aid worker husband in Bamako, between 2012 and 2015, but they couldn’t go to Timbuktu because of the threat of attack.

Now she sends birthday cards to friends and family members and hopes that the support to the guides makes a difference. For her, the project is quirky and fun.

And when an acquaintance gets a postcard, she says it sends the message: “This is how far I go for you--all the way to Timbuktu.”

[yasbxxgie]

Pirates Could Make a Comeback as Illegal Fishing Returns to Somalia's Coast

A war is quietly brewing off the coast of Somalia.

In full view of the world's most potent navies, foreign fishing ships are plundering Somali waters in flagrant breach of international maritime law and threatening local communities whose survival depends on the trade.

Unregulated overfishing by foreign fleets provoked a rash of Somali pirate attacks in the Indian Ocean a decade ago, when local fishermen who were being driven to financial ruin took up arms to defend territorial waters against intruders. They quickly expanded into lucrative and indiscriminate hostage-taking, attracting international attention as pirate gangs plagued the global shipping industry with assaults and ransom demands.

A veritable armada of warships from NATO, the European Union, and elsewhere has since pacified the region while ironically making it safe for illegal fishing fleets from countries like Yemen, Iran, and South Korea to return. If the issue is not addressed, desperate Somali fishermen could soon launch a second pirate war that officials fear will be much deadlier than the first.

Musa Mahamoud is a sprightly 55-year-old fisherman who works from the sweeping beach at Eyl, an ancient coastal town perched above the Indian Ocean whose name was once synonymous with piracy. He runs an intimidating gauntlet of illegal fishing boats every time he goes out to sea to put down his nets. A few weeks ago, he returned to find his nets slashed beyond repair. Mahamoud is one of the lucky ones. Some of his fellow fishermen have had their boats rammed by unregulated rivals. Others have been shot dead.

He doesn't feel lucky, though. Squeezed close to shore by the illegal vessels, his catch has dwindled by as much as 80 percent since their return to Somali waters.

Mahamoud says that he was never a pirate, but freely admits that he was a facilitator who provided weapons and equipment to the seafaring bandits. When asked whether he would again support such an effort, he said that he might not have a choice.

"If this illegal fishing doesn't stop, I will go back to it," the father of eight said, with no hesitation in his voice. "If a thief invades your house, are you going to stand by and watch? This is our livelihood!"

Five years ago, Eyl was Somalia's most notorious pirate hideout. The area's kingpins and their henchmen would roar through town in tinted 4x4s, secure deals in coffee dens, and collect ransom payments from the ocean that were dropped by light aircraft.

This criminal enterprise was very different to the one that began as a kind of vigilante coastguard, with armed fishermen extorting cash from unlicensed fishing boats. Then they started detaining the crews and taking their boats, larger sailing vessels that allowed them to seek out bigger and more lucrative targets further out at sea.

As the gangs grew richer and their operations more sophisticated, so did their ambitions.

"They found that attacking fishing vessels was pretty easy," said John Steed of Oceans Beyond Piracy, a project that seeks to promote long-term solutions to maritime banditry. "Then, why not coastal vessels?"

The series of successes and the promise of big payouts led them to bigger targets farther out to sea, he added, to the point where the effort against illegal fishing had spiraled into the routine attacking and holding captive of cargo ships and oil tankers.

When this crisis was at its height in early 2011, Somali pirates were holding more than 30 ships and more than 700 hostages. When payday came, it could change lives. In 2010, a ransom of $9.5 million was paid to the hijackers of the South Korean tanker Samho Dream.

Driving through the ramshackle streets of Eyl, one sees little indication of its inglorious past.

Yet beneath the surface, said Faisal Wa'is, a local government official, tensions are at a "boiling point." A few weeks earlier, he raced to the shore to discourage a group of angry fishermen who were preparing to attack a foreign vessel that had been menacing locals.

"Unless something is done, I am afraid that piracy may come back," Wa'is said.

Wracked by a civil war and two decades of fighting, Somalia remains one of the poorest and most lawless countries in the world. In a nation with so little economic opportunity, fishing can be the only lifeline that coastal communities have.

With its 1,880 mile-long coastline, the longest on the African mainland, the country boasts one of the richest fishing grounds in the world, the waters teeming with shark, swordfish, tuna, sardines, snapper, and lobster.

Lured by Somalia's anarchy, foreigners operate under the radar, flying flags of convenience and painting over their boats' names to escape detection. Their captains all too easily exploit the country's chaotic and corrupt licensing regime, either by paying off certain officials for a license of sorts or by fishing without a license at all.

Able to act with impunity, they use highly destructive fishing methods, such as the bottom trawling that razes fish habitats, and gillnetting and purse-seining that ensnare large quantities of unwanted by-catch.

In doing so, they deprive fishermen of their means of support and the country's government of valuable revenue. A six-month survey into the rise of illegal fishing undertaken last year by Adeso, an African nonprofit working with coastal communities in Somalia, found that nearly 90 percent of the Somali fishermen it questioned had spotted foreign fishing boats close to shore.

"Illegal fishing is gouging from the nascent Somali economy a source of revenue that, if harnessed, could help build much needed infrastructure, provide healthcare and education to those who go without, and restore arid lands to grazing pastures," said Degan Ali, executive director of Adeso, which warns that a failure to combat the illegal fishing vessels could motivate a resurgence in piracy.

There is some indication that it already has. In March, pirates from central Somalia captured two Iranian fishing vessels — one of which managed to escape in August — in the first successful hijackings in over two years. A UN report released last month pointed to Mohamed Osman Mohamed "Gafanje," a notorious pirate kingpin who was arrested by Somali forces in August last year and later released.

Secure Fisheries, a project that aims to help Somalia manage its fishing resources, estimates that foreign fishermen catch three times as much fish as Somalis — 132,000 metric tons compared to 40,000 caught by locals.

Many in Somalia would like to see the Western warships patrolling the ocean confront the illegal fishing boats despite not having a mandate to do so. Officials accuse the West of focusing on one narrow element of the crisis while neglecting the grievances that gave rise to piracy in the first place.

"NATO came because of the piracy, but the cause of piracy is the illegal fishing," Wa'is said. "If NATO can chase away the pirates, then why not the illegal fishermen?"

While officials in the once pirate-heavy state of Puntland suggest that their efforts to paint piracy as un-Islamic have received wide support, many Somalis still feel broadly sympathetic to the pirates because of the disadvantages they face, and are inclined to believe that the international community was too harsh in combating piracy. Foreign navies detained hundreds of suspected pirates at sea, shunting them to neutral locations such as the Seychelles to be put on trial. Many of them received lengthy prison terms.

Mohammed Mahamoud, a portly 37-year-old convicted of piracy in the Seychelles, will probably spend the next two decades of his life in a squalid and overcrowded prison the northern Somali port town of Bosaso.

Spitting angrily on the ground as he recounted his arrest, he claims that he was simply a fisherman chasing off an Iranian fishing vessel that had strayed into Somali waters when he and his five crew members — armed, he said, with pistols — were picked up by foreign navies and plunged into a bewildering judicial process. Denied an interpreter, he claimed, he and his crew only learned of their sentence from fellow inmates.

"We were like toys," he said. "We knew there was no government to defend us."

Adding to his sense of injustice, he noted that two fellow defendants who received similar sentences but declined to move to a Somali jail were later released on appeal in the Seychelles.

It's hard to shake the impression that many of those in prison are foot soldiers, while the pirate masterminds remain at large. According to various United Nations reports on Somalia, some of the leaders of these gangs poured their ill-gotten gains into other businesses, such as arms trafficking and aviation.

Alan Cole, the East Africa head of the UN Office on Drugs and Crime, warns that these networks could be activated at a moment's notice. He believes Somalia is enjoying an "artificial" calm, thanks largely to the Western navies but also because commercial shipping lines have taken on private security firms to protect their vessels.

"Young Somalis will go back to this if the conditions are ripe," he added.

While Western warships have deterred would-be pirates, many fear what will happen when they leave. Although Puntland has its own small counter-piracy force, the Gulf-funded Puntland Maritime Police Unit, it has only 15 light speedboats — far too small a resource to patrol such a vast stretch of water.

With NATO and European Union mandates up for review at the end of 2016, Cole said that there is mounting pressure from member states to redeploy warships to places such as the Mediterranean, a move that could plunge this region into a new round of insecurity.

John Steed of Oceans Beyond Piracy agrees.

"If commercial vessels decide it's no longer expedient to employ armed guards," he said, "these guys will just surge."

Photograph:

Catrina Stewart

Image:

Wikimedia Commons