#hill of the slain

[tolkienillustrations]

The Hill of the Slain by Ted Nasmith

[nerdanaro]

Cairn burial!!!!!

TL;DR, Morgoth is saying “I did this. Fear me.”

Cairns and earthen mounds (like Haudh-en-Elleth, where Finduilas is buried) also alter the natural landscape in a noticeable way, making it so that even if passers-by don’t know exactly who is buried there or what happened, they know it was someone and that the event and/or person was significant. See this article for more on that (it should be open access availability).

We know of cairns built over cremation burials as well as inhumations (burials in the ground), which was the most common burial type in the Northern European Bronze Age (see here). If a body burns accidentally though, there is the risk that the ashes blow away, so that might explain the lack of cairns/organised burial for, for instance, Fëanor.

I mentioned Haudh-en-Elleth (mound of the elf-woman) over Haudh-en-Ndengin (mound of the slain) here because while the first fits the pattern I mentioned earlier, by way of the Haladin erecting a burial mound to memorialise those entombed there, the Mound of the Slain is an exception.

Ordinarily, it would not be uncommon for Germanic Iron Age burials in the context of an armed conflict to contain both the deceased and their weapons and gear. (I reference this period and culture given Tolkien’s academic background in Anglo-Saxon and Anglo-Norse history, as well as my own in Norse history and culture). Giving the bodies and spoils of a defeated host to a deity or supernatural entity is thought to have been an offering to ensure continued victory going forward. This often occurred in a sacred area or in water, whose liminality, due to it being uninhabitable for humans, connected it to the plane where the supernatural operated, like a layer of reality on top of the mortal one.

As far as I can tell, there is no special significance to Morgoth for the location of Haudh-en-Ndengin, nor something he would be making an offering to. Let’s circle back to the memory aspect of cairns, though. I assume a LOT of individuals died at the Nirnaeth. If you were to put them in a pile, gear and all, that would be a TALL pile. It’s also in Anfauglith, which has been razed, creating even more contrast between the mound and the surrounding area. Anyone in the area would be able to see the mound, and be reminded that something immense had happened there. Even if Morgoth and the Nirnaeth had passed out of memory.

This is Morgoth memorialising his deed, the slaughter of a large portion of the Noldorin host. It is a warning against fighting him in the future.

(Also going back to cremation, I imagine there would be a cultural fear of destroying the hroä after death, at least at first after arriving in Beleriand from Valinor. If you die, where will the Valar put your fëa? This, of course, presupposes an attachment to one’s hroä as part of the self along with the fëa, however, and I’m not sure if Tolkien’s Christian sensibilities would agree with me.)

(And a fun linguistic note: the name Haudh-en-ndengin is derived from the Old English hlæw-of-dīeġed! For funsies, the Old Norse equivalent would be Haug-Dáinna, which is more literally ‘mound of the dead’.)

I think, after Fëanor's fiery death, the Fëanorians burned their dead. Which went against the custom of burying the dead among the Eldar.

Burial was seen as the acceptable method of returning the hröa to Eru, to be reworked into the Song. But burning was frowned upon as it disintegrated the body Ilúvatar had given. It was considered a deliberate destruction of His creation.

So Fëanor's act of self-combustion and his followers' insistence on well, following in his steps was yet another act of defiance on their part.

[starscreamingg]

Honestly transformers one deserves a medal for being the first transformers. Thing. In like five years to make me actually like and want to see bumblebee

[haaaaaaaaaaaave-you-met-ted]

The Hill of the Slain by Ted Nasmith

[duhragonball]

Neon Genesis Evangelion 05

I heard they put a lot of crosses in this show, sort of like how Revolutionary Girl Utena put a bunch of phallic symbols everywhere. It doesn't really impress me much, although I just considered that Dracula must really hate this anime.

This is the episode where they really get into what Rei's whole deal is. Up to now, she's been a background character with only a few lines, but she's supposed to have been doing this Eva piloting thing longer than Shinji, so what's that all about?

To begin with, we flash back to the experiment where Rei got the injuries we saw in Episode 1. At first, I just took it for granted that she had been hurt in combat, or some sort of accident during a training exercise, or her Eva violently rejected her connection to it. But here we see that they were just trying to get Eva Unit 00 to turn on, and then something went wrong and the Eva went nuts and started convulsing and attacking the observation booth with Gendo and the others.

During this mayhem, Unit 00's power cable is severed, and the pilot capsule ejects. I think Rei caused both of those things in an effort to get the situation under control. The Eva still had a few seconds of battery power, and maybe the absence of a pilot helped. It's also possible that these were actions triggered by the computer jockeys monitoring the experiment, or it was random stuff that happened while the Unit went nuts. Anyway, the pilot capsule has thrusters to carry it away from the Eva, except this test is being run in an enclosed space, so it just flies into the nearest corner of the ceiling and then drops like a stone when the propellant runs out.

Horrified, Gendo rushes down to get Rei out of the capsule, and he burns his hands on the hatch. Not sure why it would be hot, but whatever. He's so upset that he just powers through it and removes the hatch anyway, burning his hands in the process.

And then we get this shot, which looks really fucking cool. There's a lot to unpack here. Rei's supposed to be an injured fourteen-year-old girl, but they drew her like Captain Marvel or something. I'm not sure if this is intentional or not, but I think it comes up a lot. Anyway, you'll notice how upset Gendo is about this. He's not just worried about losing his only Eva pilot. He genuinely cares for Rei's safety, showing emotions we've never seen from him until now.

Anyway, she nods to him to confirm she's still alive, and as he breathes a sigh of relief, we see his glasses break, I guess from the heat and the whole commotion or something. Anyway, that's the flashback.

There's a pointless scene in the present where Shinji accompanies Misato and Ritsuko on an excavation of... something. Maybe it's the remains of the Angel Shinji killed in episode 3? It doesn't matter, because Ritsuko's equipment can't analyze the samples. They know that the Angels are composed of some bizarre form of matter, analagous to light? I guess? And even though it's completely alien to them, there are patterns in the matter that match humans. Match them how, exactly?

Shinji notices his father at another part of this facility and he asks about the burns on his hands. So Ritsuko tells the story of that botched Unit 00 experiment we just went over. Shinji is amazed to hear that his dad would go to such lengths for Rei.

At school, the boys ogle the girls during their swimming practice or whatever, and Suzuhara and Big Rigg Mahoney accuse Shinji of having the hots for Rei Ayanami. He denies it, but admits he's curious about her.

Later, during some training exercise, Shinji sees Rei and his dad talking, and they're both smiling, which is creepy as fuck. Ew, stop it. I'm not sure if Shinji is jealous or just confused that his dad actually feels affection towards another human being.

At Misato's house, everyone's eating curry and beer. Even the penguins.

Come on, Oswald, try a bite, it'll put hair on your chest.

Ritsuko gives Shinji a new ID card made for Rei. I guess the ID's have to be renewed every so often, and she kept forgetting to give it to Rei at work, so she wants him to go to her place and do it. Misato thinks Shinji has a crush on Rei, and he denies it. He's just curious about Rei getting along so well with his dad. Ritsuko explains that they're kind of like kindred spirits, in that they both aren't very good at "living." Ouch. In any case, he's got an official reason to go meet her and find out about her for himself.

Yeah, let me back up a bit.

So he shows up at her apartment and when she doesn't answer the buzzer he just lets himself in, and sees all the bloody bandages from when she was injured. Then he finds Gendo's broken glasses from the flashback and puts them on. Then Rei finally comes out of the shower, wearing nothing but a towel. She sees him wearing the glasses and immediately tries to take them back, since they clearly mean a lot to her. But they end up falling over and a drawer full of underwear spills and yeah, I think that gets us up to speed. Also Shinji's left hand is planted on her boob.

Yeah.

Shinji akwardly tries to explain himself, but Rei doesn't care. She just gets dressed and leaves to go to work. Shinji catches up to her when her ID card doesn't work, and he hands her the new one that does. He continues to follow her and asks if she's afraid of experimenting with Unit 00, since she already got hurt once before. Incredulous, she asks him if he has faith in his father's work.

Shinji's response intrigues me, because I had trouble telling before whether he and his dad are just really estranged or he's afraid of him or something else. But now it looks more like he's got some sort of grudge against him. He talks about his dad like he's a bitter enemy that everyone else would know to distrust as well.

She slaps him for that. Whatever happened between Shinji and Gendo, she remains loyal to him, perhaps to a fault.

At the base, Gendo and Rei resume their work on Unit 00, and it looks like they managed to get it right this time, but then another Angel attacks Tokyo-3, forcing them to abort the test run. Since neither Rei nor Unit 00 are ready for the field, Gendo sends Shinji in Unit 01 instead.

This is the fifth Angel, and the third one we've seen so far. It... well this was certainly a choice. Anyway, Shinji deploys to fight it, but...

Before he can even get out of the gate, the Angel fires some sort of heat ray at his Eva right away. It's like the Angel knew exactly where to strike first. Maybe this one studied the footage of Shinji's previous battles and learned a new strat.

And that's the end of the episode. The next episode preview says that Rei will come to Shinji's aid, so I'm starting to notice the pattern here. The Angels are showing up more frequently, and they're getting smarter and stronger each time. If this one knows to take the fight to Shinji, then it'll probably take two Evas to beat it, and that means the next one might be strong enough to need three Evas, and so on.

I don't think we got a complete picture of Rei in this one, but it's a two-parter, apparently, so that's okay. I'm not really keen on the parts where all the boys talked about how hot she is, or all the partial nudity, but we'll get into that at another time.

I'm much more interested in her friendship with Gendo, since they seem so distant from everyone else. But they're not going to spill the beans on that right away.

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

The Hill of Slain by Ted Nasmith :: [Guillaume Gris]

* * * *

A letter from Jung on depression:

"Dear N.,

I am sorry you are so miserable. "Depression'" means literally "being forced downwards."

This can happen even when you don't consciously have any feeling at all of being "on top"!

So I wouldn't dismiss this hypothesis out of hand.

If I had to live in a foreign country, I would seek out one or two people who seemed amiable and would make myself useful to them, so that libido came to me from outside, even though in a somewhat primitive form, say of a dog wagging its tail.

I would raise animals and plants and find joy in their thriving. I would surround myself with beauty - no matter how primitive and artless - objects, colours, sounds.

I would eat and drink well.

When the darkness grows denser, I would penetrate to its very core and ground, and would not rest until amid the pain a light appeared to me, for in excessu affectus [in an excess of affect or passion] Nature reverses herself.

I would turn in rage against myself and with the heat of my rage I would melt my lead.

I would renounce everything and engage in the lowest activities should my depression drive me to violence.

I would wrestle with the dark angel until he dislocated my hip. For he is also the light and the blue sky which he withholds from me. Anyway that is what I would do.

What others would do is another question, which I cannot answer. But for you too there is an instinct either to back out of it or to go down to the depths. But no half-measures or half-heartedness."

[h/t Ian Sanders]

[wings-dings-and-iggyfings]

OH MY GOSH THE GREEN OF RYSEN HILL (Armulyn’s song in ep. 1, in full) I WAS NOT PREPARED

waaaaaaay back in November there was an investor livestream/event where they showed the first two episodes and there was like this whole program before it and most of it wasn’t important but ANDREW SANG THIS SONG and I loved it SO MUCH that I recorded it on my phone off my crappy computer speakers so I could listen to it and not forget it AND NOW IT’S FINALLY OFFICIALLY ON YOUTUBE AHHHHHHHH

[beyourselfchulanmaria]

Ted Nasmith (born 1956) He is a Canadian artist, illustrator and architectural renderer. He is best known as an illustrator of J. R. R. Tolkien's works The Hobbit, The Lord of the Rings and The Silmarillion. Tolkien praised and commented on his early work, something that encouraged him in his career.

Ted Nasmith (1950) The Hill of Slain

[1five1two]

'The Hill of Slain'. Ted Nasmith.

[morganas-pendragons]

disbelief | elrond peredhel

gif by goodsirs

this is the hurt/comfort elrond fic I promised. enjoy!

summary: you and elrond mourn. Elrond asks something of you.

please let me know if you'd like to be tagged in future elrond or celebrimbor fics! this one may get a part 2 because the ideas are FLOWING!

tagging: @celebrimbormylove

SPOILERS FOR 2x08

You know your place is not in the heat of battle. Your gifting has always been music, the lithe fingers of a violinist meant to create beauty within the confines of Lindon's hold. You have made your peace with that.

it does not get any easier when you find out that The High King is having Elrond lead the Elven army to Eregion. Eregion, which is under siege, with Lord Celebrimbor right at the center.

Your heart aches. Celebrimbor is one of Elrond's most beloved kin, and you dread what he may find upon arriving at Eregion.

"He is best suited for this role, and you know it," Gil-Galad remarks as he strides across his study, leaving you to linger by the door as you nervously fiddle with your hands. It is the first time you and Elrond will be apart since your confession of feelings. It is not surprising you are apprehensive to watch him leave. "I do not make promises idly. If I promise that I will return him to you. You do trust my word, do you not?"

"I do, High King."

There's little you can say to Elrond when you meet him at the gate at dawn, still dressed in your nightrobes and tugging messily on your loose hair. It is a nervous habit that you have kept for quite some time that Elrond has tried to break you of by offering to braid your hair every night before you sleep.

You let him. If anything, you are always going to let Elrond treat you with that gentle love he only reserves for you. With those tender touches that cradle you as if you are his most precious, with those eyes that always seek out your own as if he finds respite within your gaze.

As if he finds the ability to embrace the Half-Elven he has hated for so much of his life.

"Meleth nin." Elrond's voice breaks through your reverie as he approaches to cradle your hands in his own. Your aspect softens as you shift closer to press your forehead to his. "You did not need to come see me off. The sun has barely risen over the hills."

"I wish to say goodbye to my beloved," You reply quietly. Reaching into your robes, you produce a handkerchief with your initials pressed into the corner and curl his fingers around it. You'd carefully doused it in the perfume you often wear since your first date in the gardens. "And to tell you to come home to me."

Elrond lifts the handkerchief to his nose and inhales deeply. It is a pleasant scent. One that provokes intimate memories bathed in light.

It is more than enough to keep him fighting.

"I will come home to you." His words are a declaration, a promise written between you both that is sealed with a handkerchief and a kiss shadowed by twilight as you part. "Until then, namárië, my love."

You are left alone at Lindon's gates to watch him depart with the rest of the Elvish army and Gil-Galad. He has specifically asked you to tend to the others who remain while they are both gone, claiming that your ability to create beauty amid such darkness and death was commendable.

The Elves would need it if they were to survive Sauron.

***

The word reaches you through one of the couriers that stumble through Lindon's tree line, bloodied and bruised but carrying a hastily scribbled note from the High King.

Eregion lost. Celebrimbor slain. Return to us with whoever remains in Lindon to this location.. protected by the 3 Rings of Power.

You hold your breath as you scan through the rest of the note.

Elrond is alive.

Relief floods through your body as you scramble back through the gates and begin calling orders to the healers and remaining survivors who remained behind to begin packing their belongings to travel. The group you lead is few, but many of them are in good spirits and are ready to tend to the wounded who fought bravely on the front lines of battle against Sauron.

You're halfway to Gil-Galad's disclosed location when you realize that he's said Celebrimbor has been slain. "Oh, Celebrimbor," You whisper, running the backs of your hands across your eyes as tears blur your vision. You had great respect and a deep admiration for the Elven Smith. He was one of the only elves you'd ever come across who could really understand the depth of your passion for the arts. "Be peaceful, my friend."

Elrond was surely beside himself with grief. You had to find him, and you had to find him soon.

Your party ventured into the cliffs of Gil-Galad's newest sanctuary, guarded by what Elven royal guards remained who guided you toward the waterfall where a makeshift medical tent sat proudly against the rays of sun that fell upon it.

Galadriel is the first to greet you. "It is good to see you, old friend," She greeted, wincing as you pulled your hand away from her shoulder like you had been burned. "I apologize. I was wounded in battle with Sauron."

"You were what-"

She shakes her head and motions to the smaller tent behind the main one. "I know that you have little in the gift of healing, but Elrond could use your care. I had him moved to the secondary tent for more privacy. He is.." Galadriel bowed her head and exhaled quietly. It was only then in that moment that you remember how old she really is. "Wracked with grief over Lord Celebrimbor."

Ah.

"Will you communicate to the King that I have arrived with the remainder of the survivors and healers from Lindon?" You ask. Galadriel complies, murmuring her goodbyes under her breath as you remove your belongings just beside the medical tent and begin your trek up through the center aisle to enter the one Elrond occupies.

You're nearly knocked off your feet by the smell. You have been spared violence and despair for most of your life. To be witness to such devastation brought upon by the hands of Sauron, and to your Elven kin, stirs an anger deep in your belly that you've never felt before. It hurts. It aches.

He sees you before you see him.

"My love?"

Your eyes flicker through the gap in the tent to find a head of matted, bloodied curls and red-rimmed, sunken eyes staring back at you. Elrond looks exactly like Galadriel has described him to look. He looks like the picture of grief.

That ache in your heart festers at the sight of him as you rush forward, throwing your arms around his neck and pulling yourself up and into his embrace. Elrond grasps you with all the force of a man desperately trying to anchor himself to the world when he'd so easily rather disappear.

"Elrond," You whisper. It is your assurance to know that he is here by that whispered repetition of his name, by feeling the warmth of his skin and the press of metal against your body as he clings to you. "My love-"

"Celebrimbor. Sauron, he-" Elrond snarls quietly into your shoulder as you begin to fumble with removing his armor. You have done it enough times now that the practice is coming more easily. "He took Celebrimbor and killed him. My father said his life was supposed to be in my hands. I tried.. I tried so hard to save his works, but the Uruk burned it and Celebrimbor is dead-"

You can hear the shame he directs at himself as you remove his armor and set it to the side. Elrond has so often taken the weight of other people's responsibilities and expectations upon himself. He wants to be remembered for something other than being Elros' brother, for being the Half-Elven who resides in Lindon. Many of the full-blooded elves have held disdain and contempt against him for something completely out of his control.

He could not control this. Could not control Celebrimbor's decisions or Sauron's actions.

"I mourn Celebrimbor with you, Elrond." You said. You move to step away and grasp the rag and water basin beside you, but Elrond's grip on your body makes it difficult to move. You pause in your place and turn to face him once again, surprised to find his eyes hidden from you and face cast toward the floor. His fingers shake where they lay against your body. "Elrond?"

"His legacy went up in smoke. The Nine are gone, Feanör's statue desecrated, his prints and his works ashes. We don't even have a body to bury. How do we honor him?" His voice breaks as Elrond, for the first time in all the time you have known him, admits defeat. "How do I honor him when I failed?"

You manage to reach far enough to grasp the wet rag between your fingers and turn to face him as you drag it over the stained skin on his face. Elrond's silent tears track down clean, softened skin, and you wipe those away with your thumbs as they come.

"What if we have a funeral?" You suggest. "I will play at it, but I think you need to orchestrate and speak. Galadriel and the King would be grateful for it as well. We all loved Celebrimbor. As did I. He was one of few who could appreciate my artistry as I could his. Let his grave mark the new beginning we have here. Let that be the way to honor him."

Elrond doesn't break the silence for several minutes. He simply allows himself to bask in being alive, in you being alive here with him in this little tent far away from the war and from Sauron. You could build a life here. A home.

That is what he wants to do.

He does not dare speak until you are finished and washing the rag used to clean his arms and face. "I would very much like to do that with your assistance, nin mel. You are the only one I know who could create such beautiful things out of such darkness and travesty."

You playfully roll your eyes and tap the end of his nose with your finger. "You humor me, Commander." You muse. Elrond lets you go long enough to watch as you move his armor to the corner of the room and motion to the tub of hot water the healers had prepared while you were cleaning him. "Now humor me more and get in the bath. You smell foul."

Elrond's laughter is a balm to the ache in your heart. You too will miss Celebrimbor dearly, but you cannot afford the luxury of grief when he is so deeply engrossed in his own.

"Humor me. I have a request, aside from the funeral."

"That sounds more like a demand." You tease. "Go on."

"Remain here with me when the rest of Lindon's elves return home. Build our home here. With me. Build Imladris. Help me honor Celebrimbor."

The shock of his statement sends the objects in your arms clattering to the floor. He wants to do what?

[cristaq]

Started writing something and then I realised it sounds much better as poetry.

What do you think Price saw

When he laid Soap on that table?

Did he try to cover

The sight of blood-stained hands

With visions of a kiss

In a safe house, up on the hills

With shitty rations and flimsy hope

Really, what kind of name is Soap?

What do you think Price felt

When the bleeding didn’t stop?

When his partner choked on blood?

No, no, no, no, no!

Dread, anger and grief

All mixed up with disbelief,

For their love had to meet

A bloody resolution

In the capital of the Velvet Revolution.

Makarov knows Yuri…

One last act of service to the world

His name on a clock tower, as a reward.

He does remember himself for once,

Soap pulls Price closer and mouths:

I love you, old man… for the last time.

A simple field journal is left behind

And a broken man, with revenge on his mind.

Fear this man, who has nothing to lose

But visions of domestic bliss

And two shiny rings

A house, a dog… kids?

Nah, he hates dogs… he thinks.

He hated dogs... he thinks.

There is no time to weep

Before the unknown soldier’s grave.

He will soon end up here too

Next to his beloved,

Slain by war, slain by man.

In both Heaven and Hell,

I will make sure to find you again.

[ramoth13]

A Message of Hope: Aurë entuluva

For absolutely no particular reason, I felt compelled today,- November 6th of 2024, to write about hope.

There are days when Hope feels foolish; when you have just watched in horror as things that once seemed sturdy and unbreakable, crumble and burn. Whether it is an elvish city or a chosen path, when that happens, Hope feels naive. It feels like that's what lead you here to begin with. It feels like, if you had been more realistic and pessimistic, you wouldn't be so hurt.

For all of the things that Tolkien wrote about, his message of hope was perhaps the most resilient, poignant, and enduring. Few can forget Sam's hopeful message to Frodo:

Yet, today, for many people it may not feel that this is true. I know I often struggle with hope, but today does feel exceptionally difficult (for no particular reason, of course).

Tolkien's most hopeful message, for me, comes from his bleakest story. Húrin's story is one of defeat. Courage sprang alive when high King Fingon and the elves and men fought together against the blackness of Morgoth's reign. The Nirnaeth Arnoediad, or Unnumbered Tears, was a day when victory was close and Turgon, brother of the king, arrived with a mighty host,

"Then When Fingon heard afar the great trumpet of Turgon, the shadow passed and his heart was uplifted, and he shouted aloud: 'Utúlie'n aurë! Aiya Eldalië ar Atanatarni, utúlie'n aurë! The day has come! Behold, people of the Eldar and Fathers of Men, the day has come!' And all those who heard his great voice echo in the hills answered crying: 'Auta i lómë! The night is passing!' "

They believed that their courage and steadfastness had saved them, that daybreak was soon at hand. Tolkien understood, perhaps better than most, that there was a difference between courage and hope. For courage is what spurs action, brings change, and inspires duty. Courage is what makes the difference when the time has come, just as they continued to fight on against orcish hordes. It was courage that led them into the heart of Angband where the Dark Lord himself sat shaking on his throne. Courage carried them past the gates, but betrayal can cut through courage like a hot-knife through butter. The hill men betrayed the men and elves and the dawning light turned into a simmering dusk.

Darkness had returned.

So, where was the hope?

With the elves slain or fleeing, Húrin, leader of his people fought valiantly to let his people and what was left of his elvish allies escape. Courage did survive the betrayal of the wild men, but only just. And with each swing of his axe he cried out, "Aurë entuluva!" And with each felled enemy, he cried out again, "Aurë entuluva!" Even as his enemies surrounded him, overtook him, and even when taken by the enemy into the dark halls, he cried out for any allies that might hear him, "Aurë entuluva!" It was a promise of hope.

~ "Day will come again!"

Hope is not what makes us act, it is not what leads us to change: hope is what sustains us, what keeps us going when courage has faded and the dark night envelopes us. Húrin held fast to hope when courage and Valor had failed, when the efforts of good people fell short. I do not know what the future holds, bleak as it may seem, but I keep those words near me with every passing hour and in those moments where I feel as though I have been dragged into a dark lord's dungeon, I say those words:

Aurë entuluva!

Day will come again!

-

Courage will be needed when the day arrives, but until then, I will cling to hope.

I wish everyone peace and hope. It is the dearest thing I can wish. And remember, Aurë entuluva!

Namárië,

~ Ramoth13

[suzannahnatters]

we all know about the visual references THE RINGS OF POWER makes to 19th century art (eg these) but just the other day I realised that they ALSO reference classic works of Tolkien art. Eg: The Oath of Feanor by Jenny Dolfen -

- and in THE RINGS OF POWER:

and here's Hill of the Slain by Ted Naismith:

- and in THE RINGS OF POWER:

Which others haven't I spotted? This can't be all...

[spectral-muse]

One of my favourite moments in Octopath Traveler II that I don’t see anyone talking about is the approach to Stormhail.

First, though the game is open world, things like danger levels and character stories are likely to lead a player to Stormhail at a certain point. It is the lowest danger-leveled third-tier city (rather, the surrounding area has the lowest danger level of any third-tier city) housing three characters’ penultimate stories rather than anyone’s final story, but it still has a higher danger level than any other second-tier city by a considerable amount, and the three penultimate chapters it hosts are the three with the highest danger level. Therefore, it is likely to be the player’s introduction to late-game Octopath, to all of the pieces falling together, to the part where all of the Chekhov’s guns the story has created finally start firing.

And what an introduction it is! The city of Stormhail had been extremely hyped up throughout the game beforehand. Massoud’s mercantile manuscripts discuss the great kingdom of Delstadt that once stood high in the Winterlands, and the massive wall they constructed around the city, and how Stormhail is what remains of this great kingdom. One of the tomes missing from the Montwise library is of this legendary Great Wall. The Godsblades are based here. Glacis, likely to be the last of the beasts Ochette hunts but still on the map from the start, calls this place her home. Exploring near Montwise reveals that Stormhail is so intense that it’s only entrance is guarded. All this information is given well before the player gets to Stormhail.

And then the time comes for the actual approach. Once the guard is slain, the player first must navigate a great abandoned mine. In silence. Nothing but the echo of their character’s footsteps. Perhaps they will run into monsters, and assuming this is their first third-tier experience, they will hear the new, final, most dramatic regular battle music. It’s all so tense.

Then the player finally breaks free of the mine, and from a vantage point atop a snowy hill, they get to witness the absolute beautiful glory of the Stormhail wall, e captured brilliantly in HD-2D, illuminated by a blue and ever-falling snow, as vast and as imposing as the as the stories.

Like, WOW. I had to put my controller down and just embrace the beauty of this moment when I was playing.

[catsoupki]

thinking about prince bakugou returning from war in a faraway land: some of the fabrics he’s adorned are ripped and covered in grime, his sword is splattered with the bloodshed of enemies— evidence that he’s slain demigods and the Divine for the sake of his people, and of course, you— but when he steps off the boat and onto the ground of his kingdom after two months of travelling on foreign land, his eyes latch onto yours with no hesitation and he will push away everyone who’s blocking his path to you, his eyes— oh his eyes, they’re intense, they’re crimson and they match well with the dried blood marks that are scattered on his cheeks— little symbols of victory; he’ll catch up to you in a matter of seconds, pushing past hooraying crowds as if they’re but a hill of fruit ants, and you, you’ll be covered in the softest of silks and the purest of golds, because bakugou likes to treat what he adores; you’ll watch with a fond smile as your husband returns to you once more, with a fulfilled promise on his lips, he shall kneel on the dirt ground for his queen, and kiss your knuckles ‘i’ve returned’