#medieval abbey festival

[spellscribe]

New project ahoy. I don't think it'll be my most complex, but I think it will be super fun.

Nine has asked for a costume - for the mediaeval festival, book week and Halloween. She wants to be... Young Ciri! She loves watching me play TW3 and initially wanted the classic look from the game, but when she caught the cut scene she damn near lost her mind with excitement.

I'm using Sew a Little Sean's open vest pattern from the Master of Disguise set - bittersweet, I've made her so many things from MOD and the princess pack, (Spider Queen, Rapunzel, Marvel's Valkyrie, and the tree costume) but she's nearing the upper end of the size limit and growing like a weed.

I think I'll wing the undershirt (except sleeves, I'm not actually competent I just fake it - I'll grab those from the same pattern set), boot covers and wrist guards. The pants will probably be a pair of tights.

The vest will be leftovers from the curtain I used to make the couch cover. Boots from a failed bag pattern and wrists from the scraps leftover from a book cover project. I'll need some gauzy cotton for the undershirt but that will likely be reused a few times, and I can hopefully scavenge the ribbons and trims.

The vest will be the centrepiece. I've got fabric paint and waxed thread for the details, interfacing to stiffen the fabric, and am tempted to try to dye it with tea bags.

[abmediumaevum]

Today (Nov. 11th) is Martinmas, the feast of St Martin of Tours, an important festival in medieval Europe on the very cusp of winter.

A 4th century Pannonian (present day Hungary) soldier, Martin's conversion to Christianity led him to give up his life in the Roman army. As Bishop of Tours he founded the famous abbey of Marmoutiers. Well known for his charity, here St. Martin is depicted cutting his cloak in half to share with a beggar.

Today he is venerated in the church as the patron saint of the poor, soldiers and conscientious objectors.

(Source: BnF NAF 16251: Images de la vie du Christ et des saints. 13th century (c. 1280-1290); f.89r)

[cheerycherrycandy-resurrected]

Hunter's Moon (Medieval AU pt. 2)

Chapter 3

Aether, Rain and Dew enjoy the party. Swiss and Mountain finally talk.

'Bout time this pair of idiots talked...

Thanks for sticking with this (and letting me use a thin plot to throw backstory at you)! 🖤

Rating: T Content: more nasty family clans (but aeth's this time) Words: 4827

@ashthewaterghoul @bloodfin @cosmicseafoam @everybodyshusband @jazz-bazz @karmicbias @kentuckyfriedsatan @midnight-moth @nefariousghoul @papaslittlesunshine @zombiequeen777 @0-miles-away <333

Links to full fic: Tumblr | AO3

Read below, or on AO3!

Across the festival, Aether was watching on with mild concern. He was used to his pack's antics and their oftentimes odd behaviour, but whatever was going on between Swiss and Mountain seemed strange even by their standards. They seemed to be putting an incredible amount of effort into ignoring each other, Mountain avoiding even attending the party until the last possible moment, which was especially noticeable given how attached they had been for a while now. The culmination of that attachment had been clear for all to see last night, which made their distant behaviour today even more strange. 

The contrast between the Mountain of last night compared to the Mountain that Aether had first met many years ago made him chuckle in bemusement. They couldn't be more different, really. The Mountain of several years ago had been a similarly lone wolf to himself; roaming the wilderness with only himself and the trees for company. Aether had thought for a long time that they were kindred spirits, both content to live without a mate. Mountain had even seemed happier to exist alone than Aether was – the earth ghoul hadn't even sought a pack bond at first, whereas Aether missed and longed for the company and closeness of one. Recently though, Mountain seemed to have found another path that brought him joy and Aether couldn't be happier for his oldest friend. 

Never would Aether have imagined the quiet earth ghoul finding his match in the oftentimes brash and loud multi ghoul, but he couldn't deny that in spite of that they seemed like a perfect match: two contrasting peas sharing a single pod. It was this mix of contrast and complement that brought Aether concern right now however – they were clearly feuding over something, and he could only hope they were able to sort things out between them. He had no doubt that Swiss would try to – ever the problem solver, he tended to address his issues head on. Of greater concern however was Mountain.  

The earth ghoul had been so wary of him when they first met; almost closer to a wild animal than a ghoul from his time in the wilderness. During the first few weeks of their tentative alliance, gaining Mountain’s trust had felt like trying to coax a wild deer to eat from his hand. Actually, that was something Aether had done once, just to see if he could, and after a bit of quintessence it had been simple. He couldn't exactly quintosis Mountain into liking him though – that would hardly be the right footing to start building trust on. He had been skittish for so many months that Aether had been half-convinced that one morning he would wake to find Mountain had completely disappeared. He never had however, always staying true to his promise to keep watch over their camp.  

Aether didn't know what had happened between Mountain and Swiss, but he hoped that the earth ghoul felt a similar loyalty to Swiss and his pack still and wasn't going to try to flee this problem either. It seemed not, thankfully, as he saw Mountain plunging through the throngs of people in the direction Swiss had gone, shortly after their first performance.  

Aether was shaken from his thoughts by the nervous chattering of a few humans emerging from the long, lantern-lit path that led down to the road. More people than they could have ever expected had braved the mysterious Abbey at the top of the hill, all curious and intrigued by its strange inhabitants and their enigmatic figurehead.  

As one of the ghouls with the most experience around humans and the most reassuring presence amongst them, Copia had specifically asked him to be there to greet those who were brave enough to attend. If we want to recruit a few, we must be gracious to the many, he had said. So far, Aether considered he was doing a good job. Humans had no way of telling if they were in the presence of quintessence, so he had made sure all those he greeted got a good dose when passing him. With a winning smile and a handshake buzzing with the telltale purple sparks that only he and his kind could see, the newest arrivals began to mingle with the crowd of ghouls and their fellow villagers.  

Aether looked up to see Copia watching him, shooting him a smile and a double thumbs up. For the leader of such an old and magical church, the man could be so unserious, Aether thought. It really was a funny turn of events that he was here on greeting duty, and such a contrast from the life he had been raised in far away in the rocky eastern lands. Like Mountain, he had also been raised in a clan he had later broken ties with. Unlike Mountain's though, his did not preach honour through self-sufficiency and respect for nature. His tribe were war mongers, believing it was their hell-born right to destroy all they came across and repopulate the Earth with their own. Aether had never liked their values, even having been grown up surrounded by them.  

As he had reached the age where he was expected to participate in their atrocities, he had started to wonder how any ghoul could go along with this so calmly. Surely, he couldn't be the only one to think that their behaviour was barbaric? He held closely to the idea that maybe everyone around him was simply faking their enthusiasm for the grotesque violence, that this was all some sort of performance designed to instil fear in their enemies. He would lie awake at night praying that all his peers were in on the ruse too and he had just missed the explanation. Alternatively, maybe they were all as horrified by everything as he was and were also only going along with it for their safety.  

Unfortunately though, time and time again he had been proven wrong as more and more ghouls he had considered friends committed atrocities for the tribe. Seeing the violence taking place in front of him made him feel sick to his core. Although he had so far managed to escape any such ritual brutalism by his own hands, the tribe's secondary goal soon began to be forced upon him: finding a mate and siring as many kits as he could. The tribe's goal of dominating the Earth seemed unstoppable and Aether could see no escape as, one by one, all the ghouls he thought had shown him a hopeful spark of individuality soon also fell to the cruelty of the clan.  

Similar to Mountain, his clan also had a rite of passage all ghouls needed to complete, else they would be exiled from the tribe and given the same treatment as the rest of their enemies. It was a simple test of his strength and will, or so the elders who came to see him had said. All he needed to do was bring back the horns of an enemy ghoul he had slain in battle. Aether could see no way out that would not sacrifice all his principles or his life so, similarly to Mountain, he had agreed to his pack’s demands and left. He would figure out what to do later.  

After a rocky start, Aether had eventually found his feet in the wild lands around him. He moved west, finding the lush green fields and woods provided better sustenance and protection than his clan’s natural habitat ever could. Along his way he had met many travellers, ghoul and human alike, who he would try and persuade to turn back to save them from the fate that surely awaited them. Most had listened, but the faces of those who had not still haunted him.  

Adapting in order to survive had been difficult, but Aether enjoyed learning new things. His clan's pillaging and raiding had brought back all kinds of information and knowledge from the civilisations they sought to destroy, most of which they had derided as scholarly nonsense but from which Aether had gained a basic understanding of the natural world he now found himself in. He had enough knowledge about animals and plants to know which could feed or heal him versus which would do him harm. Besides, Aether was a fast learner and the enjoyment he found in applying the things he had read about made him optimistic for his new future alone.  

He missed having a clan around him though: their friendship and camaraderie, however surface level it had been, had kept the loneliness at bay. He had never desired a mate or kits, neither for himself nor to please his clan, but he realised now that the company of other ghouls was something he dearly missed. 

He had heard Mountain in the woods before he saw him, sensing his energy approaching his small camp. There was something innocent about it that kept him at ease – although clearly a ghoul he felt only curiosity in their heart, not a trace of violence. They must not be a quintessence ghoul: something his kind learned early on was how to protect their minds and intentions from each other. Aether had been shocked to see the towering figure of the earth ghoul emerge tentatively from the trees. Replete with monstrous, antler-like horns which only added to the deer-like mannerisms Aether would later liken his to, he would cut a terrifying figure to those who couldn't sense the peacefulness deep within.  

The ghoul had stared at Aether in shock, as though he couldn’t quite remember how he had ended up face to face with another ghoul. He looked like he was debating if he should flee or ready himself to pounce in retaliation to an attack from Aether that would never come. Greeting him as he had the other ghouls and humans he had met during his travels, Aether had offered him a seat at his fire and some food. An act of pacifism and hospitality so contrasting to the way he had been raised it still felt almost rebellious, even now. 

Now however it was second nature to greet all as though they were future friends. This had served him well in fighting the initial scepticism of the humans he and Mountain had met, especially when they were trying to find their feet in the village they would eventually call home. He hadn’t had the smoothest start amongst the villagers there, not able to let his actions speak for him as Mountain had when masquerading as a strong but silent farmhand looking for work. His charming smiles and friendly words had certainly eased his way however, soothing the subconscious alarm bells all humans were hardwired to feel in his presence until his miraculous healing potions and talismans laced with quintessence could bolster his reputation.  

His impeccable social graces served him well again now as a pair of young women, so alike they had to be sisters or even twins, emerged. They were clearly nervous, so with a shimmer of quintessence Aether dialled up his million-watt smile. He greeted them as if their presence was personally appreciated by him and all the church, before they disappeared into the crowd laughing; Aether’s mission complete. He had to wonder if any of his old clan would recognise him anymore with how fundamentally different he was now. 

Elsewhere in the mass of ghouls and humans were Rain and Dew, both thoroughly enjoying their evening. Mist had done her best to fill them in on their packmates’ drama but neither ghoul was too worried; surely it was just a misunderstanding, and they would patch things up in no time. Dew especially couldn't see any way in which the two clearly smitten ghouls wouldn't sort out their differences. After all, hadn't he and Rain managed to? Mist had rolled her eyes and wandered off, muttering about the Dewdrop she knew being far more pessimistic than that. 

Somehow, despite still being as attached at the hip as ever, Rain and Dew were now managing to have entirely separate conversations. Their tails behind them were twined together, uncaring of any humans around, as Dew slowly rubbed the spade of his over Rain’s in a comforting motion. Rain was, as happened fairly often, being fawned over by a collection of older water ghouls and ghoulettes acting somewhat like doting grandparents. Their comments that the colour was coming back to his gills nicely, and wasn’t Dew a lucky ghoul to have him had made both of the pair blush. 

While Rain embraced the attention, preening subtly, Dew had awkwardly cast his gaze to the ground. An out presented itself in the form of Ifrit, one of the few fire ghouls he got on well with, sneaking past them towards the drinks table while looking furtively over his shoulder. Dew smirked as he reached out a hand to grasp him on the shoulder, watching him leap into the air like a cat doused with water.  

Ifrit was a young ghoul, Dew assumed similar in age to himself, and one of the newest at the Abbey. Despite that, he already seemed to have gained himself quite a reputation; he was a prankster, frequently getting into trouble, and also a notorious, silver-tongued flirt. Dew cackled as he watched the other fire ghoul scrape himself off the metaphorical ceiling and calm down when he realised it was only Dew. 

“Whose tail did you tread on this time?” Dew asked, grinning at the thought. Ifrit's eyes shot side to side warily, only making Dew's smile grow wider. It had to be someone important, or scary. This was going to be good; he thought. 

“M-mountain!” Ifrit hissed, as though the earth ghoul was listening in. 

“What?!” Dew burst out laughing at the thought of his pack's gentle giant scaring Ifrit quite this much. Sure, he could hold a grudge with the best of them, Dew ought to know that best of all, but he had never seen the earth ghoul do anything that could warrant this kind of reaction. Still, Ifrit kept glancing over his shoulder, clearly terrified. 

“What did you do to him? Mount wouldn't hurt a fly!”  

This did nothing to mollify Ifrit who shook his head furiously. 

“He's so pissed at me Dew! You should've seen him, I thought he was gonna kill me!” 

Dew continued laughing, the thought of Mountain scaring the normally over-confident fire ghoul was beyond hilarious to him.  

“Why would he want to hurt you? What, did you scorch one of his saplings or something?” 

“Worse! I made a move on his mate!” Ifrit winced at the memory. “Only I didn't know it was his mate until he got all possessive and terrifying!” 

Dew positively howled, bent double. 

“It’s not funny,” Ifrit whined, “have you seen his face all day? He looks like he’s been plotting my destruction!” 

Still gasping for breath amid paroxysms of laughter, Dew patted Ifrit reassuringly on the arm. 

“Firstly Iff, why in Hell did you go after Swiss of all ghouls? He's been lovesick over Mount since before we even got here!” 

“I didn't know that! I've just seen him around, and thought he was cute, y'know?”  

Dew rolled his eyes, still snickering; Ifrit was just as susceptible to Swiss' innate charms as everyone else, it seemed.  

“You don't need to worry about Mountain though. He’s not mad at you, he and Swiss are just having a bit of a misunderstanding right now that they need to work through.” 

With that said, Dew reached up on his tiptoes to look for Mountain's head above the crowd. Even without his massive antlers on full display, his auburn hair should still be visible well above the tops of the heads of the rest of those gathered. There was no sign of him in the large clearing however, which Dew hoped meant he was off talking with Swiss. 

“It doesn't look like he's around now anyway,” Dew shrugged, "so forget about him and go have fun! Go schmooze with some humans, they'll give you the time of day, I'm sure!”  

With an exaggerated wink, Dew waved a relieved-looking Ifrit off towards the drinks table where he immediately found a small cluster of guests to entertain with his charming looks and winning smiles. 

Rain, whose own company had also wandered off, had been listening in amusement and now leaned his chin on Dew's shoulder, wrapping his arms around his middle. 

“Poor ghoul,” he giggled in Dew's ear, “you're never going to let him forget that are you.” 

“Nope!” Dew grinned, popping the ‘p’ sound with satisfaction and spinning around in Rain's arms to face him. “I bet Mount will be so embarrassed about scaring him too, I can't wait to annoy him about it once he's sorted out his mess with Swiss!” 

“You're such a menace.” Rain smiled and shook his head fondly at this new side of his favourite ghoul that was slowly emerging as he grew more comfortable and confident. 

“You love it though.” Dew smirked, but Rain knew by now that such a throwaway comment was still silently begging for his reassurance. 

“I do. I love it. I love you.” 

Dew pressed closer to him, staring up and clearly waiting for the kiss that always followed those words. Rain was struck for what felt like the thousandth time how beautiful his eyes looked, even more so tonight as they reflected the myriad complimentary autumn colours around them. Who was he to deny Dew anything he wanted? 

“Love you too.” Dew murmured, words half-garbled by the meeting of their lips. 

~~~~~~~ 

With a final squeeze of his hand from Sunny for good luck, Swiss made a beeline for where he could see Mountain’s head bobbing through the crowd. He had left the stage in a hurry, not wanting to have their conversation in front of a watching audience, and needing a moment to compose himself and get his breath back. Copia had held Mountain back only briefly, but it was long enough that the crowd had closed between them. Swiss dove headfirst through the throngs of guests and ghouls back towards where he had been, single minded in his focus.  

Mountain was doing the same, chasing after Swiss before he could disappear completely with little care for the disgruntled faces he pushed past. As such, neither ghoul immediately registered that the other was in front of them until they collided with each other, hard. Winded, Swiss lost his footing and was only saved by a pair of large hands catching hold of his shoulders and keeping him upright. Green eyes stared down at him, full of a thousand conflicting emotions, but mostly radiating concern. Still slightly stunned by the impact, they began talking over each other. 

“Ah! Sorry, I wasn't looking.” 

“Are you alright?” 

“Mountain? I was looking for you!” 

“We need to talk, I'm so sorry.” 

Their words could barely be heard over the sound of the crowds around them Swiss realised with a nervous chuckle, watching Mountain's lips move but hearing next to no sound come out. He pointed at the earth ghoul, then off to the side of the clearing, motioning that they should go somewhere quieter. Mountain nodded, looking so relieved to be given an out from the overwhelming crush and noise surrounding them that he wasn't even considering the awkwardness they had felt earlier. It broke the tension between them, the pair smiling shyly at each other as Swiss turned to lead their way out of the clearing, Mountain sticking to him like glue. 

Breaking out of the crowd, Swiss kept walking. He could feel Mountain's presence following behind him, so he kept going until the noise of the festival was just a low hum in the distance. Finally recognising his surroundings, he realised he had led them to the small garden they had explored in their earliest days here. It felt as magical as it had then; a safe haven with only the plants around to eavesdrop. Swiss led Mountain over to one of the benches nestled deep amongst the shrubs.  

The pair sat in silence for a short while, both knowing there were things that needed to be said, but neither wanting to interrupt the other. Swiss could tell that there were words trying to escape Mountain, could see his bitten lip and the way he kept trying to take a breath to speak, before the words got stuck in his throat as Swiss opened his own mouth, before also pausing.  

“You go first,” Swiss eventually spoke softly, “I'll listen, I promise.” 

Mountain's mind went blank as he found himself suddenly put on the spot but tried to remember that it was just Swiss in front of him; the ghoul he loved most in the world. That thought finally inspired him to fight to get his words out and overcome everything that had been holding him back as it raced around his mind all day.  

“I... I'm not too sure where to start,” even looking down at his feet, Mountain could feel Swiss’ warm gaze on him, full of gentle encouragement, “I've got a lot to apologise for today I think.” 

True to his word, Swiss continued to listen quietly to Mountain's low, soft voice, overflowing with remorse and nerves. 

“I'll start at the beginning, I guess. I need to explain so you know all of this is my fault, not yours.” 

He took a deep breath and dared to raise his eyes to meet Swiss'. As green met gold, he felt a rush of love that gave him all the confidence he needed to continue.  

“I'm sorry about last night. For kissing you without knowing if that was something you wanted too. I know it isn't an excuse, but with all the free drinks I don't think either of us was thinking clearly and I'm sorry I didn't wait to ask you properly first.” 

Swiss’ mind raced at the notable omission: Mountain hadn't said he regretted the kiss, only that he regretted not asking first. He dug his claws into this little shred of hope and smiled encouragingly at Mountain so he would continue talking. It worked; now that Mountain had started he found the words came easier, all the thoughts that had been whirling around his head all day coming pouring out. 

“Then this morning. I’m sorry for leaving you and for running away. I wasn’t sure if you’d want to see me or not, but I figured you'd want me out of your space when you woke up. I wanted to come and find you, I promise I wanted to apologise properly, but then I saw the ghoulettes with you and you looked so sad.” 

Swiss winced; he was sure the venom radiating off of Mist in particular hadn't emboldened Mountain either. 

“I thought you would have been angry at me, but seeing you upset made me think maybe I should have stayed this morning after all. So I'm sorry that I left, unless you wanted me to? I've been so confused all day, not knowing exactly where I messed up, only that I did, and that's why I've been avoiding you which I'm also sorry for!” 

Mountain's final words burst out so fast he was almost breathless, and Swiss was barely certain he had caught them all. If he had been confused about Mountain's actions, it seemed the earth ghoul had been equally conflicted, if not more so. He had thought so much about doing the right thing, he had only managed to escalate their problems further. He started thinking about what on Earth he could possibly say, when Mountain continued speaking again, determined to leave nothing unsaid that could cause them any more confusion. 

“I should have come to find you earlier, I'm truly sorry for that. Giving you space didn't mean ignoring you the whole day even if that seemed easier. I understand if you do want space after this, but you should know that I don't want it. It felt horrible being apart all day! I want my favourite ghoul back, however you'll let me. Whatever it takes.” 

Seeing Mountain's shoulders finally slump as he released all the tension he had been holding on to, it was clear he was done. Swiss didn't think he'd ever heard him speak so passionately or for so long at once before.  

“I don't want space either,” he replied quietly, smiling almost shyly as he spoke, “I missed you today. I want to put this whole big misunderstanding behind us – try and forget the last twenty-four hours.”  

He paused. 

“Well, maybe not completely forget them...” 

Mountain looked at him quizzically, head tilted and brow furrowed as he tried to make sense of what Swiss meant by that exactly. 

Swiss's smile widened; maybe Mountain really was just that dense about these things. The time for subtlety had long since passed he realised, and hints would no longer suffice. He shuffled closer, his eyes never leaving Mountain's, determined to get an answer to the last big unanswered question in his mind. 

“Did you want last night?” 

Mountain took a while to answer, looking like he was choosing his words extremely carefully. 

“Only if you did too.” 

He looked so hopeful, Swiss thought. Like his whole world was floating, suspended around his head while he waited to see if it would fall to the ground and shatter into a million pieces or not. Swiss wasn't going to be the one to let it fall though. 

“I don't regret anything about last night,” he smiled as reassuringly as he could, “aside from all the confusion that damned free beer caused! What say we start off where we should have done last night?” 

Mountain still looked nervous. Swiss understood and he lamented his poor choice of words: Mountain's emotions had been thrown around like a young tree in a storm all day, and he could see how his words could be easily misconstrued. Now was not the time to leave him guessing about anything, especially not for the sake of some imagined allure or air of mystery. Even if Swiss himself found direct words difficult sometimes, he had to try. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.” He wriggled back on the bench until he was up on his knees, ignoring their protests. His whole body now facing the earth ghoul, he could meet his finally eyes properly while remaining far enough away that he could keep him in focus. 

“I like you, Mountain. A lot. I would like to court you as a mate. Would you want that too?” 

Mountain’s eyes blazed brightly back with love, both at Swiss’ words and at his understanding of the earth ghoul, making sure the words he wanted to hear so badly were said in a way he couldn’t possibly misunderstand. They had had enough of guesswork. While some of their packmates may have managed to telepathically traverse the gap between sworn enemies and future mates, that didn’t mean they had to. Mountain nodded shyly. 

“I’d like that. I want to court you too. I want to be yours, and you to be mine.” 

They continued staring at each other for a second, letting their words properly sink in, until finally a euphoric giggle escaped Swiss’ lips. At last, they could say for sure that they were on the same page. Swiss threw himself back onto the bench to sit properly beside Mountain again, sitting as close to the earth ghoul as he could while still maintaining a respectful modicum of space between them. Swiss gently bumped shoulders with Mountain, a simple gesture between the closest of friends. That was first and foremost what they would always be; all romance aside. 

“I hated today,” Swiss said quietly, “let’s never do that again.” 

Mountain nudged him back reassuringly. 

“Me too. I promise.” 

As they continued to sit in a blissfully comfortable quiet, the noise from the party lowly drifted over to them, a low rumble of conversation punctuated by shrill peals of laughter. Swiss leapt to his feet in a panic. 

“SHIT, we forgot about the festival Mount! It must be nearly time to perform again!” 

Mountain looked up at him in horror, having also completely lost track of the time. Even though Copia would likely be delighted that they had made up, letting him down on his big night would be unforgivable, and not the way to repay him for his patience. Swiss grabbed his hand, as he had done so many times recently when leading him somewhere, to pull him to his feet and back towards the party. 

Suddenly Swiss hesitated and his grip went slack, as though he was unsure if such a gesture was okay still. Mountain squeezed his hand reassuringly and let the multi ghoul continue to tug him forward, the pair giggling hysterically as they tore through the gardens towards the festivities. 

[bestiarium]

The Grand'Goule [medieval French story]

The French former province of Poitou has a local legend about a horrible dragon. The beast made its home in the subterranean corridors underneath the Sainte-Croix abbey, and any nun who ventured there was devoured in an instant.

Named after its giant maw, Grand’Goule had four legs equipped with horribly sharp talons, a pair of wings and a long tail that culminated in a three-pointed stinger. Though details about the appearance of the beast seem to differ. The most famous depiction is a 1677 statue by Jean Gargot (see image).

According to the legend, the beast was eventually slain by Saint Radegonde (which would put the story in the 6th century A.D.), who vanquished the monster by reciting a prayer to it, which banished it to the Clain river. A more recent version has the holy Radegundis stun the beast by making the sign of the holy cross and then throwing a piece of bread in the dragon’s maw that was blessed by a priest. I suspect this story was derived from the practise of throwing baked treats at the wooden dragon at the Rogation procession.

After the dragon was slain, a local woodworker crafted and painted a statue in the likeness of the monster that was stored in the attic of the Sainte-Croix abbey. Every year, the statue was displayed triumphantly at the head of the Rogation procession, as the victory over the beast had become a reason for celebration and festivities among the locals, until Grand’Goule eventually became the main focus of the procession. People would adorn the statue with ribbons and gold, and rub its scales with rosaries while saying ‘Bonne Saint Vermine, pray for us!’ This nickname translates to ‘Good Saint Vermin’.

There is a related story about the abbess Isabeau de Couhé: somewhere in the 1460’s, when a group of clerics claimed that it was against nature that their superior was a woman, Isabeau responded by unfurling a banner with the likeness of the dragon, thereby reminding the clerics that it was a woman who defeated the monster and saved the region.

Supposedly, in 1666, the Palais des Comtes displayed a stuffed crocodile which they claimed was the conserved carcass of the Grand’Goule. According to Lord Fountainhall, the creature was originally much larger than the supposed carcass on display, but it had shrunk throughout the centuries, or so it was claimed.

Sources: Poitevin, F. et al., 2017, Les Contes et Légendes du Poitou, Passeurs de Mémoire, CPE Éditions. Dailey, E.T., 2023, Radegund : The Trials and Triumphs of a Merovingian Queen, Women in Antiquity, Oxford University Press, 213 pp. (image source: statue crafted by Jean Gargot, 1677)

[scotianostra]

Robert the Bruce festival.

The Bruce Festival was back on Saturday and Sunday in Pittencrieff Park King Robert the Bruce ruled from 1306 to 1329 and is, of course, most famous for defeating the English at the Battle of Bannockburn.

Synonymous with Dunfermline, he was buried in the Abbey, and the two-day festival sawj ousting tournaments, battle re-enactments, a kids fancy dress costume competition, and the medieval village, seen in the pics, as usual more to come.

[vorchagirl]

Hey guys - just a quick update that I won't be posting the next chapter of Moments until this Friday coming.

I had a huge weekend working at the Abbey Medieval Festival and I'm shattered! It's written and ready to go, but it does need a good edit and I'm not sure when I'll have the energy.

Instead I'm going to try and post the next chapter of my Subject Zero Alenko fic, Through A Mirror Darkly, as is been sitting and ready to go for a while.

Mwa!

[gothicattitude]

Gothic Festivals You Can't Afford to Miss

Introduction:

Immerse yourself in the dark and enchanting world of gothic festivals, where music, fashion, and culture converge to celebrate the gothic subculture. From the eerie elegance of Victorian-inspired attire to the pulse-pounding beats of industrial music, these festivals offer an unforgettable experience for goth enthusiasts. Here, we highlight some of the most captivating gothic festivals that you simply can't afford to miss.

Wave-Gotik-Treffen (WGT):

Held annually in Leipzig, Germany, Wave-Gotik-Treffen is one of the largest and most iconic gothic festivals in the world. With over 200 bands and artists spanning various genres such as goth rock, industrial, and darkwave, WGT offers a diverse musical lineup. Attendees can also enjoy cultural events, including art exhibitions, film screenings, and gothic fashion shows.

M'era Luna:

Another German gem, M'era Luna takes place in Hildesheim and attracts thousands of goths, punks, and metalheads from around the globe. The festival features a stellar lineup of bands, spanning gothic rock, EBM, and metal genres. In addition to the music, M'era Luna boasts a medieval market, fashion shows, and a vibrant camping community.

Whitby Goth Weekend (WGW):

Located in the picturesque town of Whitby, England, WGW is a bi-annual event that combines gothic music, fashion, and culture. Known for its friendly and inclusive atmosphere, the festival features live music from gothic, punk, and alternative bands. Attendees can also explore the famous Whitby Abbey and enjoy goth-themed markets and social events.

Castle Party:

Set in the stunning Bolków Castle in Poland, Castle Party is a unique gothic festival that offers a magical blend of history and modern gothic culture. With performances by gothic, industrial, and darkwave bands, the festival creates an unforgettable atmosphere within the ancient castle walls. The event also includes fashion shows, art exhibitions, and a medieval market.

Gothic Dark Wave Festival:

Held in various locations, the Gothic Dark Wave Festival is a traveling celebration of dark music and culture. Featuring a mix of well-known and emerging bands, the festival showcases genres like darkwave, post-punk, and gothic rock. The festival also includes art installations, DJ sets, and gothic fashion displays.

Amphi Festival:

Located in Cologne, Germany, the Amphi Festival is a summer event that draws a diverse crowd of goths, rivetheads, and alternative music lovers. The festival's lineup includes a mix of electronic, industrial, and gothic rock bands, along with DJ sets and dance performances. Amphi Festival also features a bustling marketplace and scenic views of the Rhine River.

Conclusion:

Whether you're a seasoned goth enthusiast or new to the subculture, these gothic festivals offer an unparalleled opportunity to immerse yourself in the dark and captivating world of gothic fashion, music, and culture. Mark your calendars, gather your friends, and prepare to experience the enchantment and excitement of these must-attend events. Embrace your Gothic Attitude and let the magic of these festivals transport you to a realm of dark elegance and unforgettable memories.

[aworldofpattern]

Commemorative silk scarves for the Coronation of King Charles III, by British artist Rory Hutton, 2023

King Charles III Coronation scarf by Rory Hutton for Westminster Abbey

'Commemorates the first coronation to take place at the Abbey in 70 years. This classic silk scarf takes inspiration from the oak leaves and birds represented on the coronation chair, the Abbey’s medieval tiles and the heraldic animals and plants which symbolise the four nations that make up the United Kingdom. Created from Rory’s signature linocut illustrations, this intricate medieval inspired design is resplendent in a vintage style colour palette of red, white and blue. The borders are emblazoned with the names of the King and Queen as well as the coronation date.' £120

Highgrove Coronation scarf by Rory Hutton, 2023

'Drawing inspiration from the gardens at Highgrove, including motifs such as delphiniums, ferns, and elegantly clipped topiaries... these emblematic Highgrove features are intertwined with HM The King and HM The Queen Consort's insignias, and dates of the Coronation, along with a border of oak leaves and acorns, evoke a sense of grandeur and festivity.' £95

Coronation scarf by Rory Hutton for National Portrait Gallery

'Inspired by British monarchs, the design features a 'family tree' consisting of British monarchs throughout history all of whom are featured sitters in the National Portrait Gallery Collection. Featuring a central emblem marking King Charles III, with the dates of the Coronation.' £125

[k00265221]

Movement Through Time (Time Travel) Project : Primary Research (11/01/23)

To gather some primary source photos I went to some historic sites and history museums to take photos of ancient buildings and historic artefacts.

I went to the Ulster Museum in Belfast to gather photos on the prehistoric era

I went to Bunratty Castle in Co Clare to gather photos to timetravel to see what life in 15th century Ireland looked like and to take photos of some 19th - 20th century thatched houses and interior items

I went to Craggaunowen in Co Clare to see what pre Christian Ireland looked like

I went to Kylemoore Abby in Co Galway to see a Benedictine monastery and Abbey built in 1867

I went to Venice to see an ancient city through the medieval and Renaissance periods

I went to the "TUTANKHAMUN – His Tomb And His Treasures" exhibition in the RDS Dublin to gather primary source photos on ancient eygpt

I went to Birr Vintage week and arts festival in August to take photos of vintage vehicles

These are only some of over 300 photos I have gathered of primary source photos of artefacts, buildings and artworks that will allow me to create artworks that travel / move through time

[petermorwood]

Just a note that what the Abbey gave out in December may have been more for medicinal purposes than culinary ones.

They're all "warming" and "winter" spices which in the Medieval period would (or were believed to) counter chills, and even today they're more often ingredients for European festive-season food and drink - Christmas pudding and cake, mince pies, spiced beef, mulled wine - than at other times of year.

tfw you see some stupid post that paints medieval peasants eating just plain grey porridge and acting as if cheese, butter or meat was too exotic or expensive for them, and have to use all your inner strength to not just reblog it with an angry rant and throwing hands with people. so i will just post the angry rant here

no, medieval people did not only eat grey porridge with no herbs or spices, they had a great variety of vegetables we dont even have anymore, grains and dairy products, not to mention fruits and meats, all seasonal and changing with the time of the year. no, medieval food was not just tasteless, maybe this will surprise some of you but you can make tasty food without excessive spice use, and can use a variety of good tasting herbs. if you'd ever tried to cook some medieval recipes you would know that. medieval people needed a lot of energy for their work, if they would only eat fucking porridge all of the time they would get scurvy and die before they could even built a civilisation. they had something called 'pottage' which was called that because it was cooked in one pot. you could leave the pot on the fire and go about your day, doing stuff and come back to a cooked meal. they put in what was available that time of the year, together with grains, peas, herbs, meat etc etc. again, if you would try to make it, like i have with my reenactment friends, it can actually be really good and diverse.

dont confuse medieval peasants with poor people in victorian england. dont think that TV shows what it was really like. dont think that dirty grey dressed people covered in filth were how the people looked like.

they made use of everything. too poor to buy proper meat? buy a sheeps head and cook it. they ate nettle and other plants we consider weeds now. they foraged and made use of what they found. hell, there are medieval cook books!

most rural people had animals, they had chickens (eggs), goats (milk and dairy), cows (milk and dairy), sheep (milk and dairy) and pigs (meat machine), and after butchering they used ALL THE PARTS of the animal. you know how much meat you can get out of a pig, even the smaller medieval breeds? the answer is a lot

if you had the space you always had a vegetable garden. there are ways to make sure you have something growing there every time of the year. as i said they had a variety of vegetables we dont have anymore due to how farming evolved. you smoked pork in the chimney, stored apples in the dry places in your house, had a grain chest. people could go to the market to buy fish and meat, both fresh and dried/smoked. they had ale, beer and wine, that was not a luxury that was a staple part of their diet.

this post ended once again up being longer than i planned, but please for the love of the gods, just actually educate yourself on this stuff and dont just say stupid wrong shit, takk

[cheerycherrycandy-resurrected]

Hunter's Moon (Medieval AU pt. 2)

Chapter 2

Mountain thinks back on his life before the pack and meeting Aether. He and Swiss make plans to clear the air between them.

I'm glad to see several of you were happy to see this back!! I plan to have this finished by the end of the year, then I should have more time to dedicate to writing my thesis Lee's fandom mini bang! That's not to say I won't post any more ficlets in this universe if I have ideas, more just to set your expectations for this not being another 100k monster!!!

Rating: T Content: past discussions of nasty familial expectations Words: 5031

@ashthewaterghoul @bloodfin @cosmicseafoam @everybodyshusband @jazz-bazz @karmicbias @kentuckyfriedsatan @midnight-moth @nefariousghoul @papaslittlesunshine @zombiequeen777 @0-miles-away please message me if anyone wants in/out of the tag list!! I won't be offended, I know notifs can be overwhelming, especially in stressful times <33

Links to full fic: Tumblr | AO3

Read below, or on AO3!

Swiss and the ghoulettes reached the Abbey a short while later, and were soon directed by an officious quintessence ghoul to start unfolding tables to lay food out on. Grumbling slightly at the boring task, they each hefted a piece of hinged furniture up from a pile and began dragging them outside. From Swiss’ position setting up, he had an almost direct line of sight to Mountain. The earth ghoul was sweating slightly, arm muscles flexing as he continued to drag the countless hay-bales around. Swiss desperately tried not to stare – he was supposed to be upset with the earth ghoul after all – but struggled to tear his eyes away.  

However, Sunny chose that moment to let the table she was setting up purposely fall to the ground with a tremendous clatter, making all the ghouls around turn to see where the noise was coming from. All except one. Mountain's eyes remained fixed on the bale in front of him. That confirmed it: he knew Swiss was there, but he was purposefully ignoring him. 

Swiss finally got the latch on his trestle table into place, and with that stomped back towards the Abbey, ignoring the calls from the quintessence ghoul in charge that he wasn't finished here yet. Sunshine gave chase, growling slightly at the ghoul as she passed. Swiss paced aimlessly along the hallways of the Abbey, heading nowhere in particular except for away. 

Mountain could see Swiss in his peripheral vision. He had appeared in the clearing not long ago, flanked by ghoulettes on all sides like a protection detail. The stony faces they wore only worried him further – what could Swiss have possibly said to them? He wished the festival was being held inside; it would be so much easier to continue avoiding Swiss in the maze of hallways and passages of the Abbey. Alas, Cirrus had predicted fine weather a long time ago, and so outside they were.  

Across the wide-open space, Mountain thought he could see Swiss watching him. He didn't dare look up, not even when a table near him collapsed with an almighty crash, but his skin still burned with the intensity of Swiss' gaze. Mountain didn't know if he wanted him to be watching him or not. 

He considered going over and speaking to Swiss – he wouldn't normally think twice about doing so, seeking the multi ghoul out at every opportunity – but his tongue suddenly felt too big for his mouth, like it would choke any words that attempted to pass it. The pack of ghoulettes surrounding him certainly didn't help; a pride of hungry lionesses he was sure would eat him alive if he said something wrong. 

Coward, he thought to himself. For being from a tribe that prided themselves on their bravery, he really wasn't acting like it today. Although he had long since left them, travelling far, far away with no intention of ever returning, the niggling feeling that he was disappointing his ancestors right now gnawed holes in the back of his mind. He couldn't find it in himself to resent them, even having left like he did, still holding a grudging respect for them and their chosen existence. 

Mountain had been travelling for most of his life. Prior to his own nomadic existence, he had grown up constantly on the move around the southern plains. His tribe were small by earth ghoul standards, but large enough that when they moved it was as though a small village were passing through. In addition to the constant movement of the pack, they had a tradition that, when they came of age, the male ghouls were to leave for a few years to hone their skills alone and prove themselves worthy of caring for a mate.  

Having grown up hearing tales from the older ghouls of giant bears fought in forests and big cats fended off in distant desert lands, Mountain had always wondered where he would choose to explore. He had always liked the thought of exploring his namesake; large, rocky mountains full of thick-furred beasts. Living in the southern plains however, where the land was flat for as far as the eye could see, mountains often felt as fictional as some of the beasts rumoured to inhabit them rather than real and tangible landforms. 

As he grew older and approached the age where he would be expected to leave, he began to have his doubts about going at all. Most the other ghouls around his age had already wooed a prospective mate, someone for whom the journey was less about exploration but about demonstrating their worthiness to. Mountain had no ghoulette to court, nor a ghoul for that matter. He had no real desire to either – he was content with his life as it was, with no desire for things to change.  

He held out for many seasons past when he had been expected to leave. Most of his closest packmates had long since left, returned, and settled into raising their kits amongst the clan. Before long, the tribe was beginning to talk: why hadn't he left yet? He may not have had a mate to court, but plenty of other ghouls who left for their trials in the wilderness did not. They encouraged him, spinning tales of the glory he would return to when he returned without a mate patiently waiting – he would have his pick of the tribe, surely. The gossip began to spread like a fire through a dry forest. Could it be that he wasn't leaving because he was afraid? Cowardice was not tolerated amongst the clan: they could not survive the way that they did if it was. 

Eventually, Mountain had left. There was not much else he could do, he reasoned. If he stayed, he would only bring dishonour to his closest family until the whole pack eventually ostracised and then exiled him. As he said a final farewell to his parents, them wishing him luck and promising to have found him the perfect match in a mate by the time he returned, he saw only one clear emotion in their eyes: relief. There was no sadness at his coming absence, or pride for what he would hopefully achieve, only thankfulness that their son would no longer be the black sheep within the tribe.  

He hadn't looked back as he left. Not for days. As he crossed the first hill, just knowing that he was out of view of the clan's camp was enough to quiet his restless mind some and allow him to truly appreciate the beauty of his surroundings. So trapped had he been within the prison of expectations, he hadn't stopped in years to truly recognise what a solo expedition could entail. There was no hum of chatter drowning out the birdsong, no rumble of a hundred footfalls to ward off the larger animals who took an interest in him. All felt calm. 

Despite the sour feeling he had left with, he had never felt closer to his ancestors from the pack. This was what being an earth ghoul meant; the deep connection with nature he could only feel by being truly reliant on his surroundings for survival. This was what his tribe's traditions were founded upon. His progress was slow, but not for any reason besides him lingering at every turn to investigate a new plant or follow an animal's tracks back to its den out of sheer curiosity.  

Slowly, over many months that slowly became years, he headed northeast. Away from the plains and through a densely forested area, he emerged into a lush wilderness of rolling hills. He had found a new purpose to life in travelling the forest and learning its secrets, and before he even realised he was thinking about it, his mind was made up: he was never going back to his clan. They had strayed so far from their roots, and Mountain wanted nothing more than to return to them. The hills and valleys were his home now, the tall trees of the forest were his family. 

That was, at least, until he had met another ghoul. It had been years since Mountain left his clan and many months since he had seen any signs of life outside of what lived and grew in the wilderness. Spotting a small plume of smoke curling upwards in the distance, he had found his feet heading towards it without any conscious effort. 

Beneath a rocky overhang he saw a small, makeshift camp. Just outside of it, likely guarding the camp from the hungry wolves that roamed at night, was the fire that had signalled him closer. A large figure sat hunched beside it, stoking the flames. As Mountain grew closer, he allowed his footsteps to becoming less stealthy, purposely stepping on and snapping a loose branch – he didn’t want to scare the camper, have them react defensively to a perceived attack. The crack of the twig reverberated around them and purple eyes snapped up to meet Mountain’s green. It was a ghoul. 

At the same time as Mountain realised this, he also realised what a foolish situation he had plunged himself into: he had encroached on another ghoul's territory, unannounced, while they were vulnerable and unprepared. This ghoul had every right to defend his patch with all the anger and hellish power he could summon, and Mountain would deserve everything that came his way.  

Panicked, he instantly began backing up. The ghoul by the fire made no move to get up from the floor however, tilting his head with curiosity as though he knew Mountain bore him no ill will. As Mountain continued to pivot between curiosity and the urge to flee, it finally dawned on him that the ghoul did not resemble any other earth ghoul he had seen before, from his clan or any other. The violet eyes were the biggest giveaway, and he realised that this was a quintessence ghoul – that would explain how he knew Mountain's intentions; he could sense them and had probably felt him approaching too.  

Wary that despite his apparent quintessence abilities, the ghoul may interpret too much eye contact as a challenge, Mountain flicked his eyes up from the ground only briefly to examine the expression on his face. To his surprise, he saw a curious, almost bemused, smile. The ghoul seemed to be waiting for him to approach, intrigued by why he was hovering; frozen like a deer poised in an archer's sight. 

“I don't bite,” he said lightly, still sat on the ground and clearly sensing Mountain's wariness of such an apparently fearless creature, “do you?” 

After what was probably too long of a pause, Mountain shook his head dumbly. 

“Good, good. Will you join me?” The quintessence ghoul gestured to the fire, where he appeared to have a large number of mushrooms, tubers and other plants grilling over the flames. A small pile sat next to him, waiting to be skewered and cooked. Mountain took a cautious seat across the fire, the smell of cooking filtering through the smoke. 

“I'm Aether,” the quintessence ghoul smiled as though this were a perfectly normal scenario to meet another ghoul in, rather than the ambush Mountain could have easily twisted it into, “it's been a long time since I met another ghoul, let alone one without a pack.” 

“Mountain.” The earth ghoul grunted back, forcing his tongue which felt alien with disuse to form words. 

“It's a pleasure to meet you Mountain. Mushroom?” Aether held out a stick. The smell made his mouth water. Mountain accepted cautiously, sniffing the mushrooms tentatively and eyeing it closely before biting into them. Even cooked, these were recognisable and safe. As he chewed, his eyes drifted to a second, smaller pile of mushrooms beside those Aether had returned to threading onto sticks. Those were very much not safe, he realised. Although similar in appearance to the others, the telltale shape of the stem and clour of the gills confirmed his first thought. Aether seemed to be avoiding them, yet was that because he knew, or was he simply working through his piles in a methodical order? Worse still, had the ones he fed Mountain been a trap? 

“Those will make you sick.” He croaked out, his mouthful turning to rubber on his tongue. 

“I know,” Aether replied, looking up with a serene smile, “they're not for eating though. I make a tincture out of them, to pull the evil out of wounds.” 

Mountain still looked sceptical. 

“They're bitter; you'd know if I gave you one.” He shrugged at Mountain's face, with his cheeks slowly puffing out as he considered the risks of swallowing. With a gulp, he did. Aether looked delighted, as though he had passed a test of trust neither was aware was transpiring until now. 

That trust had continued as the pair found themselves travelling together in a similarly spontaneous fashion, contrary to the usual routine and planning of both ghouls. Mountain remained wary for weeks to come, yet hadn’t found it in himself to leave. Aether’s campfire was warm, as was his company, and Mountain began to realise that the solitary life he had been living wasn’t as well-suited to him as he had thought.  

The quintessence ghoul was knowledgeable and more than happy to share such knowledge with Mountain. In return, Mountain shared his own experience with the wilderness and the pair had found themselves becoming a team. With one ghoul always available to keep a lookout, their lives became safer and easier, and Mountain found himself able to relax in a way he hadn’t for years. His knowledge of the wild meshed perfectly with Aether’s ability to tap into a deeper layer of nature. They had each other’s backs; a fact that became especially important as winter began to creep in and all the living beings within the forest became increasingly desperate for a meal. It was colder up here than Mountain remembered it being on the plains, and even after several winters he still wasn’t used to waking to find the dew in his hair frozen solid. 

While in these early weeks together Mountain had been outwardly reluctant to follow the quintessence ghoul, the company began to rejuvenate him. What had started as simply an alliance of convenience became a friendship before he realised what was happening. For a while, they would have called themselves companions; never too close, but with an understanding that they relied on each other and their mutual trust. Mountain realised well past the point of no return that they had become their own small pack.  

With that understanding, and the acknowledgement of how much more comfortable his life now was, when Aether had first suggested that they attempt to settle in a human village to prepare for the coming winter Mountain had been somewhat open to the idea. He still wasn’t keen: the thought of denying his nature and hiding behind the glamour that all ghouls had but few enjoyed using filled him with a mild revulsion, but the comfort of having four walls around them when the frost began to develop had won out in the end. With the pair’s talents being perfectly utilised by their new lifestyle, it was mid summer by the time Mountain realised they had long outstayed their proposed single season.  

As such, when they had discovered Dewdrop late into the autumn, their decision had been made: they would stay amongst the humans indefinitely, until such a time came that they all either needed or wanted to move on. They had stayed as they were for long enough that even Mountain had begun to relax his most wild ways, giving in to the creature comforts civilisation provided. 

By the time Swiss, and later Rain, had joined the pack, there was very little of the nomadic earth ghoul left within Mountain. At the time, he hadn’t even cared that he was becoming domesticated as Aether had once jokingly called it when he automatically kicked off his boots before entering the farmhouse. Only once they had been thrust back into the forest, dependent on their skills for survival once again, had he lashed out at the loss of his old skills. 

Thinking of the time between leaving his clan and meeting Aether, Mountain couldn’t help but laugh coldly at how much his life had changed. He had first felt freedom in the forest, unchained from any expectations of pack and utterly reliant on his own instincts. How different things were now. The call of civilisation, of a mate, was one he had shunned for so long that his desperation for it now blindsided him. A small voice in him, the stubborn one that caused him nothing but problems, wanted to resent Swiss for changing his priorities so completely. The rest of him was more rational, and knew that that was entirely out of the multi ghoul’s control. Hell, he hadn’t even known Mountain in his wilder days, only once he had long since fallen into the comfort of life at the farm with a small pack, so the idea that he had changed him in any way was laughable.  

With hindsight as clear as day, he realised that it was his own feelings of inadequacy at something which had once been his forte that had inspired such hostility towards Dew in their early days of travelling north. Recognising his flaws was the first part of addressing them, or so Cirrus had said when he confided in her. And he could clearly recognise that he was taking his anger at himself and his actions that morning out on Swiss – a mistake he was desperate to avoid making twice. He needed to clear the air, before it was too late. 

~~~~~~~ 

Back inside the Abbey, Sunny had followed Swiss until they ended up in a small inner courtyard, surrounded on all sides by tall ivy-clad walls. With a loud huff that was almost verging on being a shriek of frustration, Swiss threw himself onto a bench facing a tiny water feature.  

“How’s everything gone so wrong?” He lamented loudly, more to himself than Sunny. She hummed sympathetically nonetheless.  

“You know, I thought you’d been together a while already,” she mused, more thinking aloud than expecting a reply, “what happened? You looked so happy yesterday.” 

Swiss snorted, whether in derision or to hold back more tears it wasn’t clear. 

“I thought we were happy too. Mount clearly doesn’t want the same thing as me though!” 

He flopped onto his back, landing his head in Sunshine’s lap where she began lightly running deft fingers across his scalp in small, soothing patterns.  

“You don’t know that until you talk to him,” she pointed out, trying hard to inject as much kindness into her usually joking voice as possible, “why don’t you start from the beginning, then we can work out what to do?” 

Swiss did the best he could to explain; going back as far as him first joining the pack all those years ago. He described how Mountain had seemed distant compared to the rest of the pack at first, before Swiss came to realise that he was just naturally quieter than the others. He’d opened up eventually like a slow-blooming flower, the pair becoming friends. Their recent closeness had felt like a distinct development to Swiss though, a notable difference to their usual interactions. He knew how he felt, knew what the familiar tingling in his gut meant for him, but for Mountain? He had no idea what his recent behaviour meant. Was he feeling it too, or was this just a deeper kind of friendship to him, forged through the chaos of their trip north? 

“Oh you are in a pickle!” Sunshine tutted softly, continuing her small scratching motions to keep the ghoul in her lap from getting too worked up again. 

“How did you get Mist?” He asked, turning his head to look at Sunny instead of staring straight up. 

Sunshine giggled.  

“I just asked her, silly!” Her delicate peals of laughter made Swiss smile despite himself.  

“I practice what I preach, you know?” She continued with an exaggerated, sanctimonious nod, finally eliciting a small laugh from Swiss. 

“It sounds like that's what Mountain needs too, you're both too far gone for subtleties at this point.”  

“What am I even going to say though?” Swiss could hear his voice getting whiney, but Sunny seemed to have infinite patience with him. His head was still pounding; that would have to be his excuse. 

Sunshine hummed contemplatively. 

“I don't know, you know him best. You just have to be open with him though, say that you don't know why he's ignoring you, and it hurts. You don't have to put your whole heart on display right away, but you need to be somewhat open if you want things to stop festering between you.” 

She was right, of course, thought Swiss. If he wanted to at least repair their friendship and have Mountain talk to him again, he needed to make a move and do it properly – make his hurt feelings known. 

“Yeah...” he muttered, feeling his confidence and conviction growing as he imagined the conversation. He wasn't going to beg, he had more self-respect left than that, but he wasn't going to let Mountain bury his head in the sand and throw away years of friendship over a drunken mistake and a misunderstanding. 

“You can ask why he left this morning, but you need to listen to him too, let him explain even if you don’t like the answer.” Sunny’s words were firm, but her tone was kind. 

“I know.” Swiss nodded.  

“Don’t look so glum! Everything isn’t lost yet, he might be stressing as much as you are about what to say, y’know?” Shifting him up as best as she could, Sunshine pulled Swiss into a hug and whispered conspiratorially in his ear, as though the walls might be eavesdropping. 

“If you two are even half as bad at communicating with each other as Mist says Dewdrop and Rain were, then of course everything’s a mess right now! “ 

Finally, that drew a small giggle from Swiss. The pair sat in comfortable quiet for a while longer, listening to the gentle bubbling of the water feature behind them and the whistling of the breeze filtering past the stone walls above. The sun passed overhead, the shadows shifting like they were turning their backs on the ghouls. 

“C’mon,” Sunshine sighed eventually, reluctant to move but all too aware that it was already mid-afternoon and they had a busy evening ahead, “let’s go and get ready for the ritual now, then you don’t have to run into Mountain in the Den if you aren’t ready to. 

Although they were prepared to sneak into the Den if necessary, it seemed to be completely empty when they entered. Swiss felt a pang of guilt that they had avoided the majority of their tasks for the day when everyone else was so hard at work, but really they were the ones who would be working later while everyone else was listening to them and having fun. The perks of being in the band, Sunny had quipped. He quickly found the scattered pieces of his uniform and got changed. Unable to resist, he gathered up Mountain’s too and hung it on the front of the wardrobe before leaving to meet Sunshine in the common room.  

When there was nothing left for them to do but wait for night to fall and their guests to arrive, they slowly headed outside. With any luck, they could make themselves look busy enough that no one would impose more work upon them. To Swiss’ relief Mountain was nowhere to be seen, giving him some time to finalise what he would say. While he psyched himself up, Sunny stuck next to him like a living shield; her loud and buoyant attitude keeping Swiss afloat in the tumultuous sea of his thoughts. As the time approached for them to start performing, Mountain was still nowhere to be seen. Swiss supposed that was for the best – what could either of them possibly say in the short time they had left – but the part of him that cared endlessly for the ghoul hoped he would appear soon, before Papa would need to chastise him for his tardiness. 

~~~~~~~

Inside the Abbey, Mountain had also been skulking along the corridors trying to pretend to be busy. He had eventually been released from outdoor work and had no intention of returning until the last possible second. Mountain put off returning to the Den for as long as he could in case he should run into Swiss or any of the ghoulettes that had spent the morning sending him a mix of glances that could have been either concern or anger, he wasn't sure. When he finally entered, with barely a half hour until he was supposed to be onstage with Copia and the others, the Den was completely abandoned. He supposed everyone who wasn't performing tonight was already out enjoying themselves. 

Entering their room, he was surprised to find his uniform already hanging up waiting for him. He scratched his head, certain he had left it on the floor like everything else when they returned last night. Could Swiss really have done that for him? Even such a small gesture made him wonder if all hope wasn't lost. He suddenly regretted hiding away all day; if Swiss really had been wanting to reconcile, Mountain hadn't helped himself. With very little time until they were due to perform, he wouldn't have a chance to clear the air beforehand. He cursed himself for making yet another cowardly decision that hurt not only himself, but Swiss too.  

Mountain shimmied into the black clothes, suddenly feeling so much more exposed in the tight waistcoat than he had the night before, especially compared to the floaty linen he had been wearing all day. The mask felt heavy on his head as he adjusted the straps, restricting his vision and making him feel like a prey animal. He could only hope that Swiss wasn't out for blood. Finally, he stuffed his feet into his polished leather boots. Copia had acquired them specially for the three ghouls in his little band from a cobbler several villages away, and they felt expensive. Yesterday they had made him feel important, but today they felt claustrophobic, squeezing his feet and holding him down like lead weights. 

Walking along the empty corridors towards the party outside felt like walking to his doom. The rational part of him understood that the only things he was really approaching were his pack and the ghoul he loved, but the few difficult conversations that blocked his path felt like insurmountable barriers. As he turned the final corner to the outside and the dim light of the early evening, the gargoyles perched above the door seemed to leer down at him mockingly. Mountain tried to ignore them, took a deep breath and set his shoulders back, summoning the confidence he had felt the night before on stage. 

All that shattered around him however when he broke through the crowd around the edge of the stage and saw Swiss waiting there, talking with Sunshine. Mountain's mouth ran dry and any words he had on his tongue disappeared as he saw Swiss stood there in the flesh, highlighted by the orange glow of the setting sun. Were his tail not glamoured away – for the time being at least, until the humans present had enjoyed enough blackberry wine to convince themselves they were seeing things – he felt it would have been firmly between his legs.  

He stayed frozen to the spot until a piercingly expectant gaze from Sunshine pulled him forward to heed Copia summoning them onto stage. Mountain stumbled up the few makeshift stairs, eyes locked on his feet. Sitting on the crate he used as percussion he felt grounded, less like he would float away at a single glance form Swiss. The multi ghoul seemed to be doing a very effective job of not looking at him either, leaving Mountain no trace of a clue about how he was feeling.  

They had two sets to play this evening; this one now, as the sun set, and another later once night had truly set in. As he tapped out a beat to begin their first song, Mountain felt his movements were stiffer than normal, stilted even. His beat was always rigid, but this felt awkward and forced rather than steadying. If Copia could tell, he gave no reaction from his position at the front of the stage.  

Under the bright light of several enchanted torches and lanterns blazing down on the stage from above, Mountain was finally able to lose himself to the music. It was almost enough to distract him from the fact that Swiss was standing as far away from him as the stage allowed, Sunshine acting as a buffer beside him. The whole set passed in a daze for Mountain. It was over before he realised, Copia chaperoning his ghouls off stage to enthusiastic cheers. As soon as his feet his solid ground again, Mountain felt a tentative hand on his elbow. 

“Are you alright, my ghoul?” Copia asked him, mismatched eyes filled with concern. He must have felt the awkward atmosphere after all, Mountain regretted.  

“Sorry Papa, I'll try and play better next time.”  

“Not at all, my ghoul! We still performed admirably,” Copia squeezed Mountain's arm encouragingly and gave him a knowing smile, “I hope you can sort what is bothering you though, yes?” 

Feeling bolstered by Copia's comments, Mountain gave him a shaky smile back. The man clearly cared so deeply for his ghouls as well as his church. Especially with so many visitors here, Mountain didn't want to let him down with a bad performance. 

“I will, I promise.” 

With a final nod from Copia, Mountain turned and plunged into the crowd in the direction he had last seen his bandmates go. Finally, he thought he had the last shred of courage he needed to talk to Swiss. 

[sacredtabby]

St. Wulfram's Church

Portfolio Entry 4

In the small town of Grantham which sits at about 45,000 people in all, there is St. Wulfram’s Church. St. Wulfram’s Church is an Anglican parish church that can hold up to 700 people in seating. St Wulfram’s was built in the early 1300s. The church was built with the riches from wool merchants in the community, and in the 1860s, the church was restored but the original furniture that had been in the building had been sold and removed for reasons unknown. The church holds many events other than just mass, including: a beer festival and a Christmas tree festival which includes a synthetic ice rink inside for people to skate on. The building follows the Medieval style of architecture because of the spire, the arched columns, and stained glass windows, and although the church doesn’t have flying buttresses, it has a similar technique called pinnacles. The stained glass in the church is Victorian. There was a big restoration of the church, which was accomplished by George Gilbert Scott, who was known for being an English Gothic Revival architect who was buried in Westminster Abbey. The spire on the church is very tall, reaching about 274 feet; the church with the spire is the sixth tallest in the country of England and the third tallest of any parish church. 

Although the town is known for being the birthplace of both Margaret Thatcher and Isaac Newton, the church has no significant burials. There is a churchyard for burials there, but there isn’t much information on anything to do with burials at the church. Anglican is a largely popular denomination in the Church of England, housing about 85 million members. Two main beliefs of an Anglican church include the belief that one God exists within three entities: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, as well as the fact that Jesus Christ is God and human. 

The church itself is small but beautiful. Coming from America where most churches are weird, modernized, block buildings, it is always fascinating seeing beautiful churches in England. I’ve mostly experienced cathedrals, which are always going to be grand buildings with tons of intricate parts to the architecture but St. Wulfram’s church isn't a cathedral but continues to be very breathtaking. By exploring the church, it is easy to find out that there is more to it than what it seems. Following up a narrow spiral staircase, there is a library which happens to be the first public library in England. The library holds a giant version of the Bible, along with over 80 volumes attached to the shelves by chains to keep the library historical and untouched by thieves. 

The area around the church is pretty urban, although not as urban as previous places I have explored and written about. The area seems kind of secluded and quiet, as opposed to Westminster Abbey. The reserved sacrament is kept in the crypt, which is located downstairs near the middle of the church. The crypt also holds a shrine for St Wulfram. St. Wulfram was a French priest and had one other church in England in his name called St. Wulfran’s church (for some reason the church is spelled with an “n” rather than an “m”) based in Ovingdean in Brighton and Hove. Other than the two churches dedicated to him in England, he has two in France as well; Collegiate Church of Saint-Vulfran in Abbeville and Church in Butot are the two French churches in his name, where he converted Frisians to Christianity. 

The church has an organ that fills the entire building with sound because of the secondary ventilation system that makes the sound travel from not only by the instrument itself, but also out further into the church. In a photo seen above, you can see the organ which has the words “Landair rum in chords ef Organo” which in English translates to “Landair rum in the chords of the organ”. Most Anglican churches have pipe organs in them, including St. Wulfram’s Church. Organs are used in churches to be able to aid the public in singing their songs and hymns to express their love and emotions to God and to seek and give support to their peers in worship music. 

Overall, the church is small and doesn’t have as many huge architectural breakthroughs like La Sagrada Familia, but it is beautiful in a small, quaint, and sacred way. The church doesn’t have to be a cathedral to be sacred, but it has to celebrate religion in a respectful way and has a way of making people believe that it is a holy and worthy place of their worship. The interior and exterior both contribute to the overall sacred feeling of the building by not only using the key features of a medieval structure, but also the atmosphere itself aids in the safety that people feel to worship a higher power. 

[taeseacreatives]

Discovering Dunfermline: A Creative Haven and the Home of Taesea

Nestled in the heart of Scotland, Dunfermline is a city that beautifully balances its rich history with a vibrant, modern, creative energy. This unique blend creates an inspiring destination that intrigues and inspires.

As the birthplace of kings, a cradle of industrial innovation, and now a thriving hub for artistic talent, Dunfermline values and recognises the significant contributions of creatives.

It's no surprise that the Taesea team call this vibrant city home. We draw inspiration from its storied past and its exciting, forward-thinking spirit, which propels us into the future.

A Legacy of Creativity and Innovation

Dunfermline's creative history stretches back centuries. As the former capital of Scotland and the birthplace of seven Kings, the city holds a unique place in Scotland's narrative. The city's cultural significance grew with the establishment of the Dunfermline Abbey, a medieval masterpiece that attracts artists and history enthusiasts worldwide.

In the 19th century, Dunfermline became synonymous with industrial innovation. As a centre of linen production, it was home to many weavers who introduced bold, creative patterns that shaped the fashion of their time. Andrew Carnegie, one of the world's most famous philanthropists, was born here, and his legacy of investing in the arts and education is still felt today through the Carnegie Library and the renowned Carnegie Hall, both of which continue to support creative endeavours, music, literature, and the performing arts.

A Modern-Day Creative Hub

Today, Dunfermline thrives as a dynamic city where history meets modern creativity. Its growing community of artists, designers, and marketers finds inspiration in its rich cultural landscape, creating a welcoming and supportive network that encourages all creatives to thrive.

Pittencrieff Park, known locally as "The Glen," offers a serene escape for those seeking nature-infused creativity. The park's lush greenery and tranquil atmosphere have inspired many local artists and designers.

At Fire Station Creative, visitors can enjoy the galleries' art, visits to artist studios and live music events. At the same time, the historic streets of Maygate, lined with independent shops, serve as a testament to Dunfermline's enduring spirit of craftsmanship and entrepreneurship.

Local festivals and events like the Outwith Festival further cement the city's reputation as a creative hub, drawing talent from across Scotland and beyond. This dynamic environment fosters collaboration among creatives from all disciplines, making it an ideal place for marketers, designers, and entrepreneurs to thrive and be part of something exciting.

Taesea's Connection to Dunfermline

At Taesea, we've always felt a deep connection to the creativity that flows through Dunfermline. Our work is inspired by the city's unique blend of historical significance and modern innovation. Whether we're collaborating with local artisans or partnering with global businesses, the spirit of Dunfermline informs everything we do.

As a company rooted in this creative city (our former studio, twohundredby200, was based there for 17 years), we're proud to call Dunfermline our home and contribute to its vibrant ecosystem. The talented individuals and businesses constantly inspire us, making this city a special place for creative professionals.

An Invitation to Fellow Creatives

If you're a creative or entrepreneur seeking inspiration, Dunfermline offers the perfect backdrop for your next project. Its rich history, stunning architecture, and thriving creative community make it a city where ideas flourish and collaborations come to life.

Whether you're visiting for the first time or considering making it your base, we're confident you'll find, as we have, that Dunfermline's creative pulse is genuinely something special. We invite you to come and experience it for yourself. Dunfermline is ready to inspire you, just as it has inspired us at Taesea.

Grow Your Business With Taesea’s Innovative Solutions

If you’re interested in learning more about how Taesea can assist your business in developing your brand, marketing, and design requirements, please do not hesitate to contact us. We have a team of experts who are passionate about creating innovative and effective solutions that will help your business stand out in the market. Contact us today to learn more about our services and how we can help your business succeed.

[travelspassion123]

Unearthing Historical Sites in Sweden: A Glimpse into the Past

Sweden, with its rich cultural heritage and storied past, is a paradise for history enthusiasts. The historical sites in Sweden offer a journey through time, from the Viking Age to the grandeur of royal palaces. Join us as we explore some of the most fascinating historical landmarks across this Scandinavian country.

Kalmar

Kalmar, located on the southeastern coast of Sweden, is home to one of the country’s most significant historical sites: Kalmar Castle. This 12th-century fortress has witnessed numerous pivotal events in Swedish history, including the signing of the Kalmar Union in 1397. The castle's Renaissance architecture, well-preserved interiors, and informative exhibitions make it a must-visit. Kalmar's old town, with its charming cobblestone streets and historic buildings, further adds to the city's historical allure.

Västerås

Västerås, situated in central Sweden, is a city with deep historical roots. The city’s pride is Västerås Cathedral, a stunning structure dating back to the 13th century. The cathedral is renowned for its beautiful Gothic architecture and historical significance, as it is the burial place of King Eric XIV. Västerås is also home to the Anundshög burial mound, Sweden’s largest tumulus from the Viking Age, providing a fascinating glimpse into the ancient past.

Ystad

Ystad, located in southern Sweden, is a picturesque town known for its medieval charm and historical significance. One of the town's highlights is the Greyfriars Abbey, founded in the 13th century, which now houses a museum detailing the town's history. The town’s medieval buildings, such as the Ystad Theatre and the half-timbered houses lining the streets, create an atmosphere that transports visitors back in time. Ystad is also famous as the setting for the Kurt Wallander detective series, adding a modern cultural twist to its historical allure.

Norrköping

Norrköping, in eastern Sweden, is a city with a rich industrial heritage. The city's Industrial Landscape area is a unique historical site, showcasing the remains of the 19th-century textile industry that once thrived here. The old factories, water channels, and historic buildings have been beautifully preserved and repurposed, now housing museums, galleries, and cultural institutions. The Norrköping City Museum offers an in-depth look at the city's industrial past and its impact on Sweden’s development.

Helsingborg

Helsingborg, located on Sweden's southwestern coast, is home to Kärnan, a medieval tower that once formed part of a larger fortress built in the 14th century. The tower offers panoramic views of the city and the Öresund Strait. Helsingborg’s old town, with its historic buildings and cobblestone streets, adds to the city’s charm. The nearby Sofiero Palace and Gardens, a royal summer residence dating back to the 19th century, further enriches the historical experience.

Luleå

Luleå, in northern Sweden, is notable for its UNESCO World Heritage Site, Gammelstad Church Town. This unique historical site consists of over 400 wooden houses surrounding the 15th-century Nederluleå Church. The church town was a common feature in northern Scandinavia, where people stayed during religious festivals and markets. Gammelstad offers a rare glimpse into the region's cultural and religious history.

Örebro

Örebro, located in central Sweden, is home to the magnificent Örebro Castle. This medieval castle, dating back to the 13th century, has been meticulously restored and now hosts exhibitions and events. The city’s Wadköping Open Air Museum provides another historical experience, with its collection of traditional Swedish houses and buildings. Örebro’s historical sites offer a blend of medieval architecture and cultural heritage.

Conclusion

Sweden’s historical sites provide a rich tapestry of the country's past, offering insights into everything from Viking traditions to medieval architecture and industrial advancements. Each location tells a unique story, inviting visitors to step back in time and experience Sweden’s heritage firsthand. Whether you're an avid history buff or a curious traveler, exploring these historical landmarks promises a rewarding and enriching adventure.

Immerse yourself in the historical wonders of Sweden and discover the stories that have shaped this fascinating nation. For more travel inspiration and guides, visit Travels Passion.

[educationinaustralia]

Tourist Places in Scotland:

Scotland is known for its stunning landscapes, rich history, and vibrant culture. Here are some top tourist places to visit in Scotland:

Edinburgh:

Edinburgh Castle: Historic fortress overlooking the city. Royal Mile: A historic street with shops, restaurants, and historic buildings. Holyrood Palace: The Queen’s official residence in Scotland. Arthur's Seat: An extinct volcano offering panoramic views of the city. Scottish National Gallery: Houses an impressive collection of art.

Glasgow:

Kelvingrove Art Gallery and Museum: One of the most popular museums in Scotland. Glasgow Cathedral: A stunning example of Gothic architecture. The Riverside Museum: A museum of transport and travel. Glasgow Botanic Gardens: Beautiful gardens and glasshouses. The Necropolis: A Victorian cemetery with impressive monuments and views.

Highlands:

Loch Ness: Famous for the legendary Loch Ness Monster. Inverness: The capital of the Highlands, known for its historic sites and beautiful surroundings. Isle of Skye: Renowned for its rugged landscapes, picturesque villages, and medieval castles. Glencoe: A beautiful valley known for its stunning scenery and hiking trails. Ben Nevis: The highest mountain in the British Isles.

Isle of Skye:

Fairy Pools: A series of beautiful waterfalls and clear blue pools. The Quiraing: A landslip on the Trotternish Ridge with breathtaking views. Old Man of Storr: A rocky hill with iconic pinnacles. Dunvegan Castle: The oldest continuously inhabited castle in Scotland.

Stirling:

Stirling Castle: One of Scotland’s grandest castles with a rich history. The Wallace Monument: A tower commemorating William Wallace. Bannockburn: The site of a major Scottish victory in the First War of Scottish Independence.

Aberdeen:

Aberdeen Maritime Museum: Showcases the city’s maritime history. Duthie Park: Known for its Winter Gardens and floral displays. Footdee (Fittie): A historic fishing village with quaint cottages.

Outer Hebrides:

Luskentyre Beach: One of the most beautiful beaches in Scotland. Callanish Standing Stones: A prehistoric stone circle. St Kilda: A remote archipelago with stunning landscapes and rich wildlife.

Orkney Islands:

Skara Brae: A well-preserved Neolithic village. Ring of Brodgar: A large stone circle and henge. Maeshowe: A chambered cairn and passage grave.

Shetland Islands:

Jarlshof: A prehistoric and Norse settlement. Sumburgh Head: A stunning location for birdwatching and enjoying coastal views. Lerwick: The main town, known for its charming harbor and annual Up Helly Aa festival.

Other Notable Places:

Loch Lomond and The Trossachs National Park: Offers beautiful scenery, hiking, and water activities. Cairngorms National Park: The largest national park in the UK, known for its mountains and wildlife. Melrose Abbey: A historic abbey with stunning architecture. Eilean Donan Castle: A picturesque castle situated on a small tidal island. https://www.aecglobal.com.au/ Falkirk Wheel: A unique rotating boat lift connecting the Forth and Clyde Canal with the Union Canal. These destinations offer a diverse range of experiences, from exploring historic castles and cities to enjoying the natural beauty of Scotland's landscapes.

[drjacquescoulardeau]

La Révolution Bénédictine Casadéenne du Livradois-Forez: De Charlemagne à François 1er

The Casadean Benedictine Revolution in Livradois-Forez

Jacques COULARDEAU (Auteur), Clément Gomy (Auteur),

Ludivine Bourduge (Autrice), Xavier Omerin (Auteur)

An elderly vacationing researcher, a researcher still in marching order, and an industrialist whose company is a world leader in the field of braiding and cables, are here – finally – beginning to examine the roots of Livradois-Forez. Where did the braiding industry and its very special and specific technique come from? Where did the cultivation of Indian hemp come from, which would provide cable and canvas, two essential elements when Colbert decided to build the Royal Navy of Louis XIV, the Sun King, in Saint Nazaire? The third essential element was wood, and it would be the Casadean pine.

Concerning the development of Livradois-Forez, very little is known at the time of the Gauls, and even the Gallo-Romans, it was totally ignored under the Merovingians, and would only begin after the reforms of Charlemagne (King and Emperor 768-814), and above all the religious reform which compulsorily released 52 Sundays, then 3 weeks of festivities for the Nativity, the Passion, and the Assumption, plus some local religious festivals, in all 80 days of non-working time for everyone. This reform would find its crowning moment with the Gregorian Reform of Gregory VII (Pope 1073-1095) who, against the Germanic Emperors, would impose the supreme authority of the church, the Papacy, Rome.

All these are only the foundations of the development which will be led by the engineers of the Middle Ages, the Benedictines, who Christianized Europe from England and Ireland, then agriculturalized Europe from local resources. With the final abolition of slavery, and the unification of land ownership (Lords, Church-Abbeys, and a few autonomous allod-holders), a true agricultural green revolution can come, with the invention of the horse's collar which can henceforth plow, the horse of course, and the recovery of water mills, invented but never used by the Romans, to replace human working time devoted to Christian ritual practices, and to intensify production. In this context in 1043, Robert de Turlande founded the Abbey of La Chaise-Dieu and the tight network of priories and affiliated parishes. But the question remains of who introduced Indian hemp cultivation and braiding to this region, the very keys to many centuries of development that led to Omerin's cables of the extreme.

This is the beginning of our research, from Charlemagne to Francis I, covering eight centuries. Perhaps one day we will ask the question of the occupation of this region by the Neanderthals and the “Cromagnons,” before the Glaciation and the Gauls, at the time of the woolly rhinoceroses of Gannat and the Rhinopolis center. But how far behind, archaeology still is in Puy de Dôme!

Academia.edu Comment

Jacques Coulardeau uploaded a paper

Take a trip to these middle mountains and discover how their present world-leading industry pushed their first roots in the soil in the 9th century AD

 Éditions La Dondaine, Medium.com, 2024

9 Pages

Medieval History,  *  Medieval Studies,  *  Agriculture,  *  Benedictine Monasticism,  *  Protoindustrialization