#guild charters

[racefortheironthrone]

Please tell me more about neighbourhood PMCs in renaissance Italy

It would be my pleasure! (My research into this owes a lot to the excellent Power and Imagination: City-States in Renaissance Italy by Lauro Martines.)

The first thing to note that, unlike the condottieri, these were not private military companies. Rather, the neighborhood military companies (in the sense of a military unit, rather than a profit-making entity) were self-defense organizations formed as part of a centuries-long political struggle for control over the urban commune between the signorile (the urban chivalry)/nobilita (the urban nobility) and the populo (the guilded middle class, who claimed to speak on behalf of "the people").

This conflict followed much the same logic that had given rise to the medieval commune in the first place. Legally, the communes had started as mutual defense pacts between the signorile and the cives (the free citizens of the city) against the rural feudal nobility, which had given these groups the military and political muscle to push out the marquises and viscounts and barons and claim exclusive authority over the tax system, the judicial system, and the military.

So it made sense that, once they had vanquished their enemies and established the commune as the sovereign, both sides would use the same tactic in their struggle over which of them would rule the commune that ruled the city. The signorile and nobilita formed themselves into consorteria or "tower societies," by which ancient families allied with one another (complete with dynastic marriage alliances!) to build and garrison the towers with the knights, squires, men-at-arms, and bravi of their households. These phallic castle substitutes were incredibly formidable within the context of urban warfare, as relatively small numbers of men with crossbows could rain down hell on besiegers from the upper windows and bridges between towers, even as the poor bastards on the ground tried to force the heavy doors down below.

To combat noble domination of communal government, achieve direct representation on the political councils, establish equity of taxation and regulate interest rates, and enforce legal equality between nobility and citizenry, the populo formed themselves into guilds to build alliances between merchants and artisans in the same industries. However, these amateur soldiers struggled to fight on even footing with fully-trained and well-equipped professional soldiers, and the guild militias were frequently defeated.

To solve their military dilemma, the populo engaged in political coalition-building with the oldest units of the urban commune: the neighborhoods. When the cities of medieval Italy were originally founded, they had been rather decentralized transplantations of the rural villages, where before people had any conception of a city-wide collective their primary allegiance was to their neighborhood. As can still be seen in the Palio di Siena to this day, these contrade built a strong identity based on local street gangs, the parish church, their traditional heraldry, and their traditional rivalries with the stronzi in the next contrade over. And whether they were maggiori, minori, or unguilded laborers, everyone in the city was a member of their contrade.

As Martines describes, the populo both recruited from (and borrowed the traditions of) the contrade to form their armed neighborhood companies into a force that would have the manpower, the discipline, and the morale to take on the consorteria:

"Every company had its distinctive banner and every house in the city was administratively under the sign of a company. A dragon, a whip, a serpent, a bull, a bounding horse, a lion, a ladder: these, in different colors and on contrasting fields, were some of the leitmotifs of the twenty different banners. They were emblazoned on individual shields and helmets. Rigorous regulations required guildsmen to keep their arms near at hand, above all in troubled times. The call to arms for the twenty companies was the ringing of a special bell, posted near the main public square. A standard-bearer, flanked by four lieutenants, was in command of each company."

To knit these companies organized by neighborhood into a single cohesive force, the lawyers' guilds within the populo created a state within a state, complete with written constitutions, guild charters, legal codes, legislative and executive councils. Under these constitutions, the populo's councils would elect a capitano del popolo, a professional soldier from outside the city who would serve as a politically-neutral commander, with a direct chain of command over the gonfaloniere and lieutenants of the neighborhood companies, to lead the populo against their noble would-be overlords.

And in commune after commune, the neighborhood companies made war against the consorteria, taking the towers one by one and turning them into fortresses of the populo. The victorious guilds turned their newly-won military might into political hegemony over the commune, stripping the nobilita of their power and privilege and forcing them either into submission or exile. Then they directed their veteran neighborhood companies outward to seize control of the rural hinterland from the feudal aristocracy, until the city had become city-state.

(Ironically, in the process, the populo gave birth to the condottieri, as the nobility who had lost their landed wealth and political power took their one remaining asset - their military training and equipment - and became professional mercenaries. But that's a story for another time...)

[ellynneversweet]

Me reading Sabriel at thirteen or fourteen: Touchstone’s outfit doesn’t sound that gaudy? Calm down babe it said your clothes didn’t fit him. You got a whole page description of your cool outfit.

Me reading Sabriel like two weeks ago or whenever the present mania began: wait, gold as in real cloth-of-gold or gold as in yellow? Cause it sounds like cloth-of-gold holy shit man. Whoever packed Touchstone’s ship wardrobe knew exactly what they were doing and the fact he was like ‘…whatever, these are regular-degular clothes’ indicates that he’s probably so used to royal opulence he doesn’t even consciously register it. At least Sam had (will have) the decency to think that boots with gilded heels(!!!!) would be noticed on him if he was trying to pass for a normal person.

Me, now: wonder which of the guilds has/had the licence to produce cloth of gold (and presumably cloth of silver). Goldsmiths or Weavers? There’s been at least one marriage conducted over this. Man, I bet striped gold-and-red tends to tear along the seams because of the difference hardnesses of the threads. Do they use Charter Magic to make the really, really thin wire required and once again where are they getting silk (core threads) and raw metal from? Wonder if anyone resents the Clayr for probably being exempt from the system of licences (Charters, hah!) that restrict who gets to be allowed to make what product. Do the Goldsmiths and the Clayr both have the right to mint coinage in the same time period or did the Goldsmiths have that privilege revoked after they tried to overthrow the royal family? What is the banking system of the old kingdom do they have a guild of bankers? What does banking look like in a medieval(-ish) society without a marginalised group (Jews) to manage credit?

[cnu-newurbanism]

South Main gets the recognition it deserves

The Urban Guild announced its 2022 design awards, including one for Excellence to the Surf Hotel in South Main, Bueva Vista, Colorado, designed by Craft Design Studio.

I first reported on South Main in Buena Vista, Colorado, 18 years ago—when a young brother and sister duo set out to build a whitewater rafting community in a remote mountain town. The 40-acre neighborhood, planned by Dover, Kohl & Partners, was centered on a park at the Arkansas River designed for whitewater adventurers.

The project was financed and built incrementally, and the pace of development slowed down even more during the Great Recession of 2008. The Selbys, Katie and Jed, constructed one small building at a time, and soon South Main was a hit with locals and a destination for outsiders.

“As someone who has lived here for some time, I’m just in awe at all of it,” former county commissioner Dennis Giese said in 2016. “I just stopped by the Buena Vista Roastery coffee shop, and I looked up and down Main Street and there were people everywhere. Young people, young families. And that’s what South Main has brought.” The town regularly draws streams of people for rafting—but also cultural events like concerts at an outdoor stage. 

No matter—South Main has won plaudits from credible sources, including a Charter Award from CNU in 2016 for the entire neighborhood, selected by a jury that was chaired by the late, great planner Hank Dittmar. Now the Surf Hotel in South Main has been recognized for excellence by the 2022 Urban Guild Awards, whose jury included many notable urbanists. 

Read more.

[raging-soul-of-fire]

The instructions of the local lord were quite specific. The Warriors Guild we’re chartered to escort his winter Seer to the coastal lands, where she would tend to a new court. The guard contingent was to be as small as necessary, and they were to meet at the bridge at the edge of town. The Seer would be waiting there, ready for travel ( @thecrystalchoreographer )

Aura sighed when she got the orders. A combat mission, and one that would take her away from her home. Despite the prestige, she knew none of the others wanted to 'babysit the foreigners' and so pushed the task onto her.

Still, she wasn't in a place to complain. Food, shelter, and steady work. Not a lot of call for creative work among them, but at least their weapons and armor would be maintained. No one would complain about that, even if it meant they weren't doing it themselves.

As she packed her things, she wondered who the winter Seer was. She kept her head down and didn't bother herself with matters of the lord's court. The guild master got the jobs and assigned them to the members. For a job like this, needing as small a group as needed, only one or two might normally be assigned, although the guildmaster always advised 1 per escort with more for more vital targets.

Most of the bad jobs went to her, and she always did them. Even after she started hiding what she was, they never let her forget.

At least there would be fresh air on the journey. Hopefully the person who she was escorting wasn't too demanding or harsh. One pack of supplies, rations, bedroll, torch. Everything she owned, really. Anything else she kept to herself. Slinging her shield over her shoulder, she headed to the bridge. She would be early. Punctuality was important.

@thecrystalchoreographer

[mclalan]

A small estate map of Northeast Wolderness, a wapentake within the County of Humbershire.

Pentascarth Peaks

River Wyn

Bridburn Orchard

Bridburn Abbey

Firley Village

Grinholm Mill

Skunlington Town

Skunlington Castle

Pentascarth Peaks

Pentascarth Peaks is an ancient evergreen woodland that once dominated Wolderness, but centuries of agricultural expansion have driven it back to the five hilltop peaks. Some say that Wyrms slumber within each of the five peaks, while others more accurately claim that the peaks mark the boundary of the Wolderness wapentake.

Both Bridburn Abbey and Skunlington Minster claim rights to the forest, leading to obvious land disputes. But while mortals argue over who owns what, the woods remain home to forgotten, ancient goddesses— though the monastics seem to agree on this being just superstition.

River Wyn

Leading down from Pentascarth Peaks is the River Wyn, cutting through Humbershire on its journey east to the Lyre Estuary. The Wyn boasts giant crabs with some allegedly growing to a formidable fifteen feet. But if you're tempted to go crabbing, beware of the water spirit Catharine Wart, who drags unsuspecting victims beneath the Wyn's currents.

Bidburn Orchard

Nestled within an oxbow is Bridburn Abbey's apple orchard. The monks began with the principle of ora et labora, or 'pray and labour,' but if it also produces apples so delicious and plentiful that kings from across the seas are willing to pay a pretty sum for them, then who are the Valynites to say no? Whether it's Wyn's blessed waters or the lay brothers' tireless work, the orchard certainly hasn't hindered the abbey's rise to fame and fortune. Just don’t get caught scrumping from it, or the monks will have your hand off.

Bridburn Abbey

Bridburn Abbey houses the Valynite Order, which seems more preoccupied with power and business than strictly worship. With extensive landholdings and significant influence in the region, the abbey functions as the principal rural manor of Wolderness. As a result, it has become the largest and wealthiest abbey in all of Humbershire. But beyond just collecting tithes from the surrounding peasants, the monks are skilled in land management, particularly in assarting the land of trees and marshes.

Firley Village

Firley Village, named after the fir trees that once grew in the area, is an agricultural settlement situated on the glebe of Bridburn Abbey.

A large plot of common land lies to the west of the village, while smaller plots are located south on the opposite bank of the River Wyn. While the villagers grow a rotation of barley and vegetables, they're best known for they're prized oxblood-coloured sheep, whose wool appears black but shines red when catching the light. You'd think the village would grow fat from the wealth of this highly sought-after wool, but as the village falls under the manorial holding of the abbey, it is the abbey that reaps the wealth.

Grinholm Mill

Grinholm Mill, a growing hamlet owned by the Rolleston family, offers a much more reasonable miller's toll compared to the one up by Bridburn Abbey. They've become quite popular amongst the peasants of Wolderness, (well at least by miller standards), as well as wealthy. Although they pay their tithe to the abbey like everyone else on this side of the river, they are perceived to have undermined the abbey’s milling soke monopoly—much to the abbey displeasure.

Skunlington Town

Skunlington is a prominent market town, both wealthy and influential, with a history that stretches back to the First Age. It's located behind a small range of hills that shield it from harsh weather and provides a natural defence, with an added Royal Castle on the highest peak for good measure.

The castle is about the only Royal influence in the town however, as Skunlington holds charters that grant it a degree of autonomy from the Crown. The town is governed by a council of Merchant Guild Aldermen in coalition with the Provost of Skunlington Minster. But despite this apparent independence, the town is practically in the pocket of the Archbishop of Humberthorpe, the capital city of Humbershire.

South of Bridburn Abbey, across the River Wyn, lies the land controlled by Skunlington Minster’s estate (marked in purple on the map). The large tract of empty land between Skunlington and Bridburn Abbey is an ongoing contention, as both estates claim it for their own. The bickering has gone on so long that the land has turned fallow. But the biggest source of contention is how Skunlington controls the river toll for use of its docks, with particularly extortionate prices for Bridburn Abbey. Rumour has it that Bridburn Abbey might just build a whole new town of its own, south of Skunlington, just to avoid paying this toll!

Skunlington Castle was strategically built in the First Age atop the highest hill on Pen-y-Skun for its vantage point overlooking the whole of North Wolderness Dale—crucial in the Woodsy War against the pagans. However, these days it’s the Crown's administrative center for Wolderness, run by the Under-Sheriff. Here, secular law is enforced, tasks such as collecting taxes for the Crown, raising levies, chopping off heads, that sort of thing. There’s a lot of overlap with the ecclesiastical courts however, sometimes resulting in collaboration and other times in clashes.

Skunlington Castle

But it’s not all work. The castle also serves as the hub for the gentry afterall, and they're not exactly know for their hard work. So the castle hosts games, jousts, fairs, that sort of thing, and a bed for when the King comes to visit.

[kaihuntrr]

The Sea Prince; Hunting Party announcement!

okay maybe this isn’t the oneshot I promised but it’s gonna be good I promise-

SO! As of recent, I finished up the revised outline to The Sea Prince’s act one, named Hunting Party! The plot has a lot more going on and I’m in love with this story so much more. This means sooner or later the prologue will come out! As soon as it does, we’ll come to the next important thing;

Beta readers!

Preferably, I’d want three! I have one already, so two more would be great!

What do beta readers do?

They help give feedback and act as a sort of test audience! I’ll need it with all the things packed into this storyline ehehe. There’s a lot in store! I’d want to make sure I’m giving off the right impression with my writing and the like.

I will give the summary of The Sea Prince (and Act One!) under the cut, and as a treat, here is a doodle I’ve made of Act Two Scott and Martyn, they get little changes in their designs <3

There’s one doodle under the cut that has blood (it isn’t red, but blood is blood!) so here’s your warning for it!

THE SEA PRINCE.

In a world full of deadly, man-eating sea monsters there are specialized teams of people who’s job and legacy is to eradicate the horrors of the deep. Monster hunters, hunters for short, are funded by guilds to personal employers to seek out the dangerous beasts and let the sea live in a peaceful, monster-free environment for the animals and humans to thrive.

A notorious hunter group, the Canaries, are led by brothers Joel and Grian Solidarity and are personally funded by His Royal Majesty as one of the best hunters the kingdom has to offer. Such luxuries give them the access to powerful weapons and a rivalry with the best naval commanders, known as TIES. These two groups are summoned to a meeting as the King sends them on their most daring commission yet; find and capture a sea prince.

Sea Princes are, by nature, mythological. They don’t exist. They’re hunter stories meant to scare children and keep the population from wanting to explore the seas, if not for the very real monsters that infest the waters. Capturing one, not to mention proving they exist would be a challenge. This is the King they were working under though, and if he says to find a sea prince and capture it, they’ll do it. Besides, if they were able to, they would be put down in the history books.

Martyn always believed they existed. A child born from hunters, stories about their bloody past and murderous rage haunts and excites him. From the god-like treasure they hide underneath the waves to the feuding war against the mermaids, he’s made it his goal to kill a sea prince. It’s what he wants the most after all.

Well. There was also Scott.

Scott Major is a beautiful man who works in a tavern, never in his life has he been out to sea. Martyn swears to him that once his life goal is complete, he’ll stay. The call of the sea is somehow always there, as if it was right in front of him. Martyn risks his life every single moment he boards the ship, but he always comes back in one piece. He has to.

He can’t risk losing Scott too.

ACT ONE: HUNTING PARTY.

Being sent on a mission to capture a sea prince, the Canaries and TIES form a bet; whoever finds evidence of a prince first can lead the mission. Agreeing under pride, they set out. Martyn has his heart set on fulfilling his dream, but it doesn’t look like Scott is too thrilled with the idea. He’ll understand.

What the hunters don’t know is that their goal charters out of their control and they are forced to seek refuge on an island everyone believes to be cursed. The Scarlet Witch haunts the isle, and every hunting ship that enters will never exit.

They’ll be the first to prove that wrong.

Elements/ general themes the story will contain;

- Nightmares

- Sea horror (monsters attacking ships, fear of the ocean, those types of things)

- fights and injuries (they bleed!)

- character death

- slow burn. really slow burn but a lot of flirting and sweet moments between the two

- worldbuilding

- found family

- there’s likely more to which I’ll add unto!

This story has become a very big passion of mine and I’d love to be able to tell this with the most clarity and enjoyment I can provide! If you’re interested in becoming a beta, I’d like you to comment under the post or reblog it to why you’d want to beta read it and the like :D it’s not a first come first serve basis and it will be open until I finish the prologue, which is in about a week or two from now. Goodluck in applying! I and @mewhoismyself are going to look through what you guys got, but no pressure, seriously! <3

With the beta readers and synopsis out of the way, here’s some sneak peeks to the next batch of designs along with some sketches I made for Act One! I wonder if you can figure out the context behind those words ;)

Just some minor changes with Martyn and Scott! Scott’s hair is more red tinted and darker so he’s more ginger, while Martyn is more clean-shaven! Maybe he has some stubble the next time I sketch him, but he looks more youthful here! I also realize that these are all the winners, but it does make sense with how important they are to the story :0!

Now, unto the designs! Can you guess who’s who?

Super excited to finish this batch and work on their lore; I’ll finish this before the prologue!

And that’s all i got for now, I hope you’re all just as excited as I am as the project gets to come to life after all these months. Act One is coming soon!

[communist-manifesto-daily]

Manifesto of the Communist Party

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A spectre is haunting Europe – the spectre of communism. All the powers of old Europe have entered into a holy alliance to exorcise this spectre: Pope and Tsar, Metternich and Guizot, French Radicals and German police-spies.

Where is the party in opposition that has not been decried as communistic by its opponents in power? Where is the opposition that has not hurled back the branding reproach of communism, against the more advanced opposition parties, as well as against its reactionary adversaries?

Two things result from this fact:

Communism is already acknowledged by all European powers to be itself a power.

It is high time that Communists should openly, in the face of the whole world, publish their views, their aims, their tendencies, and meet this nursery tale of the Spectre of Communism with a manifesto of the party itself.

To this end, Communists of various nationalities have assembled in London and sketched the following manifesto, to be published in the English, French, German, Italian, Flemish and Danish languages.

I. Bourgeois and Proletarians*

* By bourgeoisie is meant the class of modern capitalists, owners of the means of social production and employers of wage labour. By proletariat, the class of modern wage labourers who, having no means of production of their own, are reduced to selling their labour power in order to live. [Engels, 1888 English edition]

The history of all hitherto existing society† is the history of class struggles.

† That is, all written history. In 1847, the pre-history of society, the social organisation existing previous to recorded history, all but unknown. Since then, August von Haxthausen (1792-1866) discovered common ownership of land in Russia, Georg Ludwig von Maurer proved it to be the social foundation from which all Teutonic races started in history, and, by and by, village communities were found to be, or to have been, the primitive form of society everywhere from India to Ireland. The inner organisation of this primitive communistic society was laid bare, in its typical form, by Lewis Henry Morgan's (1818-1861) crowning discovery of the true nature of the gens and its relation to the tribe. With the dissolution of the primeval communities, society begins to be differentiated into separate and finally antagonistic classes. I have attempted to retrace this dissolution in The Origin of the Family, Private Property, and the State, second edition, Stuttgart, 1886. [Engels, 1888 English Edition and 1890 German Edition (with the last sentence omitted)]

Freeman and slave, patrician and plebeian, lord and serf, guild-master‡ and journeyman, in a word, oppressor and oppressed, stood in constant opposition to one another, carried on an uninterrupted, now hidden, now open fight, a fight that each time ended, either in a revolutionary reconstitution of society at large, or in the common ruin of the contending classes.

‡ Guild-master, that is, a full member of a guild, a master within, not a head of a guild. [Engels, 1888 English Edition]

Our epoch, the epoch of the bourgeoisie, possesses, however, this distinct feature: it has simplified class antagonisms. Society as a whole is more and more splitting up into two great hostile camps, into two great classes directly facing each other – Bourgeoisie and Proletariat.

From the serfs of the Middle Ages sprang the chartered burghers of the earliest towns. From these burgesses the first elements of the bourgeoisie were developed.

The discovery of America, the rounding of the Cape, opened up fresh ground for the rising bourgeoisie. The East-Indian and Chinese markets, the colonisation of America, trade with the colonies, the increase in the means of exchange and in commodities generally, gave to commerce, to navigation, to industry, an impulse never before known, and thereby, to the revolutionary element in the tottering feudal society, a rapid development.

The Communist Manifesto - Part 1

[ Table of Contents | Next ▹ ]

[theygotlost]

so basically red admiral's appearance on the scene pisses the monarch off SO bad that he momentarily forgets about dr venture and declares her his new arch enemy and theres probably some rule in the guild charter about villains arching each other but whatever. and red admiral doesnt have the haters temperament like the monarch does so she thinks its just a silly game and has fun absolutely kicking the monarchs ass over and over again. and outside of this gary and aditi have been seeing each other for a couple months now and neither knows anything about the other being a henchman cause they keep making up increasingly ridiculous excuses. so i have this vivid sequence in my mind of 21 and swallowtail having to face off against each other during one of these archings and swallowtails god her badass knife and 21 has his arm blade thing and theyre both taking the fight super seriously until 21 says or does something that causes swallowtail to recognize him and shes like WTF GARY????!!!! and hes like WTF ADITI??!!!? and ofc the monarch is pissed off that his henchman is sleeping with the enemy but red admiral treats it like a gotcha of "MY underling has seduced YOUR underling to weaken your defenses! all a part of my plan!"

[transgenderer]

The liver bird (/ˈlaɪvərbɜːrd/LY-vər-burd) is a mythical creature that is the symbol of the English city of Liverpool. It is normally represented as a cormorant, and appears as such on the city's arms, in which it bears a branch of laver seaweed in its beak as a further pun on the name "Liverpool".[1]

King John founded the borough of Liverpool by royal charter in 1207. The borough's second charter, granted by Henry III in 1229, gave the townspeople the right to form a guild with the privileges this came with, including the right to use a common seal.[2] Liverpool's ancient seal probably dated from this time, though the earliest surviving impression (kept in the British Museum) is from 1352.[2] The seal depicted a generic bird with a plant sprig in its beak, together with a scroll inscribed (in shaky letters) "JOHIS" - an abbreviation for Johannis, Latin for "John's".[2] The bird was almost certainly intended to be an eagle, the symbol of John the Evangelist, who was both the namesake and the patron saint of King John.[2] The plant sprig is interpreted as broom (planta genista in Latin), a badge of the Plantagenet dynasty.[3] Also visible on the seal is a star and crescent, one of King John's personal badges.[4]

The shoddy draughtsmanship of the seal has given rise to other theories. Richard Brooke, a 19th-century Liverpudlian antiquary, surmised that the bird was a dove with an olive branch, and that the scroll read "NOBIS" or "VOBIS".[5]

By the 17th century the bird's real identity had been forgotten: it began to be interpreted either as a cormorant, a common bird in the area, or as a "lever". In 1611 the municipal records describe the mayor receiving a plate "marked with the Cormorant, the Townes Armes", while in 1668 the Earl of Derby gifted the town a silver-gilt mace engraved with a "leaver".[2] In his 1688 work The Academie of Armorie, Randle Holme records the arms of Liverpool as a blue "lever" upon a silver field. Holme takes this word to be an adaptation of the German loffler or Dutch lepler/lefler, both referring to the spoonbill.[6] It is possible that these continental words were adopted for the bird in Liverpool's arms as they made a fitting allusion to the name "Liverpool".[2] Around the same time the broom sprig in the bird's beak was reinterpreted as a branch of laver, also on account of the similarity of the word to the city's name.

In August 1796 Mayor Clayton Tarleton wrote to the College of Arms to request an official grant of arms to the city. His letter called the bird "a lever or sea cormorant".[5] Arms were duly granted on 22 March 1797 by Sir Isaac Heard, Garter King of Arms, and George Harrison, Norroy King of Arms; however the grant described the bird only as a "cormorant".[7]

The modern popularity of the symbol largely dates to 1911, when the Liver Building was built. This prominent display of two liver birds rekindled the idea that the liver was a mythical bird that once haunted the local shoreline. According to popular legend, they are a male and female pair: the female looking out to sea, watching for the seamen to return safely home, and the male looking in to the city, watching over the seamen's families (or "making sure the pubs are open", as a jocular version has it). Local legend also holds that the birds face away from each other, for if they were to mate and fly away, the city would cease to exist

it took them less than 400 years to invent a bird called the "lever" (not even liver...?) to explain a shitty drawing of an eagle

also bonus:

An all female rock group from Liverpool called The Liverbirds was active in the '60s. They moved to Hamburg in 1964, where they were billed as die weiblichen Beatles (the female Beatles).

[goblin-writer]

A Steady Hand and Quiet Mind

Candles, as most pyromaniacs and some poets can attest, are beautiful things. Their light spills forth like water from an upturned bucket – all at once and then in drips and drabs. But through their fascination with that small dancing light, that fills a room so similarly to a tap, letting just too much water in for the drain to handle, they do not realise that the candles they admire are far from the natural state.

In fact, chandlers have prized the creation of these perfect candles. Candles that, throughout their creation, have behaved well. Made from wax that melted sensibly and wicks that politely hung while the wax did the proper thing and cooled. The careful hand of the chandler would top up the divots of the shrinking wax and cut the wick to the length determined by the Charter of Chandlers and Chalkers.

Brytha liked those days. Days where her wax listened. Preferably without bubbling, without sputtering. And definitely without this.

She lit one of the recent candles she made. It took a moment, the fire trying to penetrate the waxen twine. But after a moment it did take hold.

“Let’s see what you have to say.” Brytha spat through clenched teeth. The flame standing stock still. Quivering.

But it couldn’t help itself. This entire batch couldn’t help themselves when lit.

Then, after a brief pause as the wax began to melt the candle started.

Your vows you've broken, like my heart, Oh, why did you so enrapture me? Now I remain in a world apart But my heart remains in captivity~

She sighed. It picked it up from the last one.

“What’s going on down there?” Guild Master Rye thundered.

Brytha quickly extinguished the candle and stepped in front of it.

“Nothing, Rye. Just humming to myself.”

The portly man stepped off the bottom step. His once-white sleeves poking through the haphazardly slashed burgundy doublet, and a curtain of black hair framing his deep brown eyes.

“Humming? In here? Why?”

“I got lost in thought.” Rye’s eyes narrowed at that. Candle making was serious business,

“Were you making candles while lost in thought?”

“Only testing them.”

“Test them again. They might have picked up your habit of being lost in thought.” Brytha nodded before Rye continued, “If any of them hum, speak, or worse, sing, feel free to take them home, or melt them down.”

“Of course, Rye.”

“Of course.” He shook his head and patted her shoulder before heading back upstairs.

Brytha looked at the candle vats. Fifty candles for home, and no docked pay. She could save a lot of money with that. And surely they wouldn’t pick up any other songs.

Grabbing a linen bag, she stuffed the candles into it and went to make another batch of candles before heading home.

She made sure they were well behaved this time. Stopping the wax from bubbling, cutting the wicks to the appropriate length, and not humming to herself throughout the process.

These candles would not be fit for a church service, she thought, but nobody at the local alehouse, The Wolf Wihout, would mind the occasional bluster, nor the smattering of curses the candles had picked up from the kitchen.

At least these weren’t singing.

---

Thank you @flashfictionfridayofficial for another wonderful prompt.

I've been enjoying the more lighthearted stories as I edit CotSJ for draft 3 which has taken a bit out of me.

[racefortheironthrone]

You mentioned that GRRM is weaker on the sociological aspects of Medieval times. Does this include the severe neglect/abuse of the lower classes? It works well to explore his theme of 'True Knighthood' and existential heroism in the books, but what could a real peasant count on his lord to actually do for them during siege or chevauchee? (Even if only in a self-interested sense of 'I need X peasants alive to work my fields and tax myself into splendor.')

As we might expect from a writer of his generation, GRRM does better with class than he does with race or gender or sexuality. He's still imperfect - one major non-noble POV in a book made up largely of noble POVs isn't exactly representative - but you do see his depiction of class inequality through the impact of the War of Five Kings on the Riverlands, the Broken Man speech about the War of Ninepenny Kings, the King's Landing riot and the Sparrow movement, etc.

At the same time, while GRRM certainly knows what town and city and guild charters are, he doesn't really show the burgher class as an active force in Westerosi politics (outside of the Antler Men) the way they should be given the degree of urbanization that's supposed to exist.

[ginandoldlace]

Preston Lancashire

The Guild celebrations first came about in 1179 when King Henry II awarded  Preston  its first royal charter & the right to have a Guild Merchant.

The Guild was an organisation of traders, craftsmen & merchants, all with a monopoly trade in the town.

[autosadist]

gonna need 3(?) guild charter signatures on wyrmrest accord horde for me n cricket's mop remixed guild, i kinda forgot you had to talk to other people to successfully create a guild in this game

[midnightswaltz]

So, I finished Veilguard & have some thoughts.

On the whole - I enjoyed it. I can understand the problems some people have, but I liked it. I liked the combat, I liked the companions. Even the stuff I saw coming I thought was fine & the stuff I didn't, surprised me.

That said, major spoilers ahead:

I played an elven woman, mage, veil jumper.

Every guide I ran across that discussed how to get the best ending, says that you HAVE to save Minrathos instead of Treviso. As I had already chosen Treviso at that point (& honestly, the city with only the assassin's guild as protection probably needed my help more, even if you didn't split the team evenly sending half to Minrathos & half to Treviso - which you do.)

Anyway, THIS IS WRONG. I was still able to save everyone who could be saved even after saving Treviso. Even got the trophy.

Also, while you can't rank up the city, a stall in the spirit market in the Crossroads will sell you stuff from the Spirit Dragons & you can sell stuff to up the Shadow Dragon's Strength, which is separate from it's Rank.

I cried when we found Hector & Lorelei's bodies.

(Actually, I cried more than a few times in this game)

(I'm not discussing Varric. I can't hate it, but I'm still not over the rug pull, even when I realized it was coming, I'd hoped not)

I do not like the uneven consequences for choosing which city. If you can't continue a romance with Lucanis after choosing Minrathos, you shouldn't be able to continue a romance with Neve after choosing Treviso.

Whoever you choose to lead the distraction team in the endgame will die, you cannot change that - but none of the guides I've run across have mentioned that if Davrin dies ASSAN DIES ALSO.

Not fly off to mourn for the rest of the game - DIES WITH DAVRIN

(I wonder if this is effected by whether or not the griffins stay with the Wardens or are sent to Arlathan - I had them set free in Arlathan.)

The hardest choice in the game when I replay it, is going to be having to choose between Assan & Harding.

I loved Davrin, he is awesome, but Harding is Harding.

But Assan is basically a PUPPY

This game should go up as a warning on that "Does the dog die?" website

The Lucian romance was sweet, but a major dearth of kissing.

It's literally like they totally forgot to put them in.

There's two in the spending the night scene at the end of the game

but that's it

There's like 4 romance scenes other than that & each one should have ended with a kiss - it was right there, but it didn't.

The desert scene would have been absolutely perfect if Rook & Lucanis kiss & Neve walks in, sees & says "oops, don't mind me. please continue"

I also missed being able to have just little romance moments with your L.I.

The dialogue was hit & miss, but no better or worse that any other DA game. It got really awkward at times, then there were times where I'd comment & Rook said the same thing I just did.

(Maybe that says more about me though...)

I LOVE ERIKA'S VOICE AS ROOK

Admittedly, I'm biased, I love Erika Ishii just in general

They definitely should have given more than 3 questions to input our previous choices.

At one point you can talk to Harding & she will talk about the Inquisitor's Inner Circle. She specifically talks about Sera & Cole - two characters you don't have to ever recruit.

She also speaks about Charter being the Inquisition's spymaster - if Cassandra or Viv are chosen as Divine, Leliana remains spymaster. I'd at least have liked some acknowledgement of why Leliana retired.

Not to mention: Morrigan, the Well & Kieran. What they had was kinda okay, but it wouldn't have taken more than a line or two to explain Morrigan's situation in game.

There was a love letter from my inquisitor's love interest to the inquisitor in the miscellaneous section of the library.

It was really sweet

I really, really liked the various ways you could react to all the info about the gods as an elf yourself.

It was kinda nice how people didn't seem to keep forgetting that my Rook is an elf.

I actually enjoyed having everyone sitting around the table discussing certain revelations.

I sat up straight during one particularly subtle revelation - which I had not seen coming & fully expected none of the characters to notice - but Davrin noticed it.

Give Isabella pants, goddammit.

Or at least some indication she's not walking around in all that sand and salt water with just a massive peace of jewelry protecting her bits.

I was finally happy with how my Inquisitor looked in the character creator.

Ravi Lavellan in DAI does not look anything like Ravi Lavellan in my head. But Ravi in DATV looks much closer

I did a little dance when Dorian showed up

I did a little dance when Dorian teased my Inquisitor about having someone waiting for them back home

And given her reaction I'm choosing to believe that they survived

This is also something I really liked. One of my biggest irritations in Inquisition was that something MAJOR was going down with the Wardens & my warden apparently just kinda fucked off to find a cure?

But there's a very, very good reason why the Inquisitor is not more involved - the south is fucking falling to the Blight.

(And still they show up like 3 times)

I was a little surprised (& disappointed) that the endgame came so soon, until I realized how fucking long it is.

These are not all the thoughts, just the ones I can remember right now.

[shalomniscient]

ARCHIVIST’S TRIVIA: FAFNIR [HSR]

◆ Fafnir is an extremely meticulous individual, especially when it comes to managing her business and her money. Although she has a secretary, their duties are simply limited to ensuring the casino runs smoothly—by making sure equipment has proper maintenance and keeping inventory. All financial information and decisions are personally handled by Fafnir.

◆ Due to her long lifespan, Fafnir has had the oppurtunity to attend university several times over, for several different courses. Currently, she holds these degrees: a Masters in Business Management, a Masters in Business Administration, a Masters in Accounting and Finance, a Masters in Microeconomics and Macroeconomics, a Doctorate in Actuarial Science, a Doctorate in Data Science and Analytics, and a Doctorate of Juridicial Science (specifically in Corporate and Interastral Law). This gives her a grand total of 4 Masters Degrees and 3 Doctorates.

◆ In addition to her degree in Accounting and Finance, Fafnir is also a chartered accountant.

◆ Fafnir is excellent at mental math.

◆ Fafnir is a well-respected member of the Intelligentsia Guild, having published her Doctorate theses and a few other publications through the Candelagraphos. Hence, it is not uncommon to see Intelligentsia Guild members studying statistics to be ‘testing’ the machines at Gnitaheath.

◆ Fafnir knew and was friends with Ruan Mei’s grandmother, who was also a member of the Intelligentsia Guild.

◆ Fafnir guards her documents on all her finances with the same ferocity as she guards her money.

◆ Fafnir is about 400 years old.

◆ On the level above Fafnir’s vault in Gnitaheath is an extensive library. Some of the books in this library are up to a few hundred, even a thousand years old. They are relics of her past lives, and although Fafnir does not know what they meant to her previous selves, she painstakingly preserves each and every one. The library is a strictly restricted zone, only accesible to Fafnir and perhaps any extremely lucky guest.

◆ Fafnir enjoys paperwork. She finds it relaxing and reassuring to know the goings-on of her casino in quantitative terms.

◆ Unfortunately, Fafnir is near-sighted—so whenever she does sit down to do paperwork, she needs to wear glasses.

◆ Fafnir’s familiartiy with interastral and corporate law coupled with her expertise on various other mathematical and business subjects makes her somewhat infamous in the IPC, since it is incredibly more difficult to entice Fafnir into prematurely signing any deals or contracts. To IPC agents, getting stationed on assignment to Gnitaheath and dealing with Fafnir is colloquially known as a punishment.

◆ After Topaz’s ‘failure’ at Jarilo-VI, she was stationed at Gnitaheath. Surprisingly, Fafnir and Numby get along well—likely due to the fact that both of them are very good at ‘sniffing out’ profit. Topaz, on the other hand, did not have a good time.

◆ Fafnir’s weapon of choice in combat is a sword called Gram. It was once used to try to kill her—but Fafnir defeated her would-be killer and took the sword for herself.

◆ In both human and dragon form, Fafnir’s tail is prehensile. In human form, Fafnir can use her tail to immobilise someone or defend herself from attacks.

◆ If Fafnir is fond of you, her tail will curl around your feet as a sign of favor and protection.

◆ Fafnir wears cologne. She typically goes for dry woods/leather scents that have a smoky accent to them.

[communist-manifesto-daily]

The Communist Manifesto - Part 2

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The feudal system of industry, in which industrial production was monopolised by closed guilds, now no longer sufficed for the growing wants of the new markets. The manufacturing system took its place. The guild-masters were pushed on one side by the manufacturing middle class; division of labour between the different corporate guilds vanished in the face of division of labour in each single workshop.

Meantime the markets kept ever growing, the demand ever rising. Even manufacturer no longer sufficed. Thereupon, steam and machinery revolutionised industrial production. The place of manufacture was taken by the giant, Modern Industry; the place of the industrial middle class by industrial millionaires, the leaders of the whole industrial armies, the modern bourgeois.

Modern industry has established the world market, for which the discovery of America paved the way. This market has given an immense development to commerce, to navigation, to communication by land. This development has, in its turn, reacted on the extension of industry; and in proportion as industry, commerce, navigation, railways extended, in the same proportion the bourgeoisie developed, increased its capital, and pushed into the background every class handed down from the Middle Ages.

We see, therefore, how the modern bourgeoisie is itself the product of a long course of development, of a series of revolutions in the modes of production and of exchange.

Each step in the development of the bourgeoisie was accompanied by a corresponding political advance of that class. An oppressed class under the sway of the feudal nobility, an armed and self-governing association in the medieval commune*: here independent urban republic (as in Italy and Germany); there taxable “third estate” of the monarchy (as in France); afterwards, in the period of manufacturing proper, serving either the semi-feudal or the absolute monarchy as a counterpoise against the nobility, and, in fact, cornerstone of the great monarchies in general, the bourgeoisie has at last, since the establishment of Modern Industry and of the world market, conquered for itself, in the modern representative State, exclusive political sway. The executive of the modern state is but a committee for managing the common affairs of the whole bourgeoisie.

* This was the name given their urban communities by the townsmen of Italy and France, after they had purchased or conquered their initial rights of self-government from their feudal lords. [Engels, 1890 German edition] “Commune” was the name taken in France by the nascent towns even before they had conquered from their feudal lords and masters local self-government and political rights as the “Third Estate.” Generally speaking, for the economical development of the bourgeoisie, England is here taken as the typical country, for its political development, France. [Engels, 1888 English Edition]

The bourgeoisie, historically, has played a most revolutionary part.

The bourgeoisie, wherever it has got the upper hand, has put an end to all feudal, patriarchal, idyllic relations. It has pitilessly torn asunder the motley feudal ties that bound man to his “natural superiors”, and has left remaining no other nexus between man and man than naked self-interest, than callous “cash payment”. It has drowned the most heavenly ecstasies of religious fervour, of chivalrous enthusiasm, of philistine sentimentalism, in the icy water of egotistical calculation. It has resolved personal worth into exchange value, and in place of the numberless indefeasible chartered freedoms, has set up that single, unconscionable freedom – Free Trade. In one word, for exploitation, veiled by religious and political illusions, it has substituted naked, shameless, direct, brutal exploitation.

The bourgeoisie has stripped of its halo every occupation hitherto honoured and looked up to with reverent awe. It has converted the physician, the lawyer, the priest, the poet, the man of science, into its paid wage labourers.

The bourgeoisie has torn away from the family its sentimental veil, and has reduced the family relation to a mere money relation.

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