#wasteland lore

[tag-the-degenerate]

The Hide Scribe Part 1

Chapter 1 - Tag Devilish

While robbing passerby’s in Cleghorn, I happened upon the love of my life for the first time.

I wasn’t a hidescribe then, I was hardly yet even a person. I was just a young devious beastie all on my own. A classless thing, I was, without much on my mind neither.

See, in my culture a gal isn’t grown until she has wandered all around. A woman has gotta make her own way and have adventures, otherwise she’ll die a girl. Men and en’s do too I guess, but I wouldn’t know because I’m not one of ‘em. What it comes down to is makin’ and havin’ stories.

If you don’t have stories to tell and they ain’t good, it’s like you never even existed. My people call it “chasing your tale” like you go out into what’s left of the world and you sort of gather up pieces of who you’re gonna be and who you always were as you go. Once you think you have most of the pieces then you’ve caught it- your tale, your story and it’s like you’re finally real. It didn’t make sense to me when I first heard about it, maybe it doesn’t to you now either as you read it, but best I can describe it is- it’s a feeling. An awareness almost, a purpose like. You know when you’ve found it.

Anyway, that’s what I was doin’, wandering all around trying to figure myself out and my place in the ruins of the world and I was working as a highway woman. I didn’t have Baptise (my tattoo tool) yet, so it was just me and Eadrich.

Eadrich is my macuahuitl and before I picked up Baptise, he was my tool of the trade and my constant companion. A macuahuitl is a weapon what for bashin’ and guttin’ -and when you’re a girl all alone you need something that can do that y’know? It’s a funny spelled word macuahuitl, but you say it like “Mak-wa-wick.”

Around this side of the desert not a lot of folks have seen one or even really know what it is, but see my Daddy o’s people use them and they’re from way down north.

Daddy’ o’s folk, never took a liking to me. They’re people eaters down in the cradle land and we don’t speak the same tongue. I was raised with my mom’s camp until

It was time to wander, then I headed straight out to meet them first. Never met Daddy o, but I met his mom and the rest of the people eaters. They didn’t know what to do with me really, we didn’t talk the same, we didn’t look the same and I felt much the same way I did with my mom’s people- out of place.

I spent a bit with Daddy o’s people and overtime I came to understand them when they spoke, but they never embraced me. When I tried to talk to them in their tongue back they laughed ‘cause I didn’t say things proper enough. So I stopped talkin’ for awhile altogether when I was with them.

I wanted to fit in with them and I couldn’t figure out why. I never fit in with my mom’s folk, but they loved me easy anyway. I thought maybe the reason I didn’t fit in with them was because I was meant to fit in with the people eaters. But, the more I tried the less Daddy o’s folks seemed to care. They all used and made their own

macuahuitls so I made one too. But y’know, no one showed me how so Eadrich turned out different.

Like, when the people eaters made theirs they used wood and glass, but I didn’t have that so I made mine with a piece of scrap metal. Even though they said it wasn’t a real Macuahuitl because of that, I felt like that was ok. Because I wasn’t a real people eater to them either.

After I made Eadrich there was a raid. That day, I went with my group of people eaters to a gathering of their kind out in the old mining lands we call Black mountain. People eater families from all over get together there once a year and the young ones do a rite to celebrate coming into adulthood. I never got to do the rite, I wasn’t allowed because I was only half people eater and they wouldn’t let me, but I went with them to watch. The rite is called “the feast of the beast.” The young ones (around my age then) all go hungry a couple days and only drink water. Then on the feast day they eat a big portion of mushrooms the elders bring out.

The mushrooms are a big deal to the people eaters, trusted elders grow and keep them and no outsider is allowed to touch or even see them. They’re magick, real magick those things. When you eat them you’re supposed to meet the Psilocyren, the goddess of mad divinity. She’ll show you all the secrets of the world, make you face your greatest fears and whisper to you all the plans the world has for your soul.

I wanted to meet her so bad, I thought about stealing the mushrooms myself but I didn’t have a good plan- anyway that’s when the raid happened. It was the night before the feast and we were all camped and gathered. I heard their bikes first and it wasn’t until I tore out the tent that I heard the elders screaming. One of those bikes had a metallic ting in the engine, like something was jingling around inside. The raiders had snatched up the mushrooms- the whole leather bag of ‘em. One of ‘em took off with all of ‘em and was dusting up the desert already. The other ones were putting up a fight with the people eaters. They tried to set our tents ablaze and chop us down but we knew how to fight. two more escaped and went with their friend the thief and the other three we killed. Some of the young folks tried to go after them but they lost him when he went up the ridge. They said without bikes of their own they wouldn’t be able to get em and there was only one working bike among the ones we killed and no one was a good rider.

Losing the mushrooms was mourned more

than the people who were killed that night and as the people eaters buried the dead, I stole that bike and took off to get those mushrooms back.

No one seemed to notice I left, but I knew

If I came back with the mushrooms they’d never overlook me again.

Chapter 2- Cervus

I left after the raiders and I wasn’t too good on the bike. It was in rough shape and ran outta guzzo half up a mountain pass up towards Vegas. The tracks the thieves left behind seemed to be going towards Cleghorn and it was the only settlement for miles I knew about. The way I bet it, they were looking to sell the mushrooms. Such a thing would surely fetch a big price among chem folk.

Along the way, I started robbin’ on the highways. I was around 17 then and I’d just crossed the canyon into Cleghorn.

Cleghorn is a little settlement where people come to trade up on the way through the Cajon pass. It’s tucked in the mountains where the water isn’t so radded out and a lot of people make camp there when they’re on their way to bigger places. I went there mainly so I could rob men and eat some food, which is all I really did back then. Sometimes I’d draw if I had time though.

The settlement had high walls made of big wood posts and if you wanted get in you had to talk to a doorman with a gun or two. I was in line to enter behind a caravan of traders that were eyeballin’ me some and after a slow march up they let me in. They asked if I had a gun and I showed them Eadrich instead. The main guard guy laughed and said he was the ugliest knife he’d ever seen. I told him he wasn’t a knife, he was a Macuahuitl and they laughed some more and let us through together.

I remember when I first went in I noticed a round tent in the courtyard that was surrounded by a crowd. I couldn’t see what was inside but I could hear them all laughing and hollering. I had never seen people laugh all together like that, I hadn’t ever seen that many people in one place where they weren’t fighting and it pretty well vexed me.

The whole place was a bazaar of things for trading-and I needed things- booths of supplies and trinkets and people offering up their services, but I passed it all by to join that crowd because I had to see what the fuss was all about.

As I got closer I squeezed through some of the big men standing in the back and saw that most of the people in the crowd were seated. It was the damnest thing! Some had even brought chairs and pillows but most were cross legged and sitting in the dirt all surrounding this one single guy talking in the center of the circle of listeners.

They were grown people, hard men looking like big warlords and killers and black thumbs and ladies too, lookin just as tough. Raider scum and biker nomads - and there were some little ones and young folks too- trader families and ol’ folk but they were all together and all of ‘em were sitting’ side by side and smiling like excited little kids listening to the guy talk- the story teller, tellin’ tales. Cervus.

I kept my distance at first, circling through the audience like a wild animal at the edge of a campfire. Then, slowly as he told story after story I crept closer each time, until I found myself sitting at Cervus’ feet like a pet tamed and waiting for a treat.

I can see him now, sitting in the center of that old rug, his bare legs crossed with layers of cloth bundled around his waist. His chest was also bare with a heavy fur mantle sitting upon his shoulders and his face- his beautiful face- obscured with a mask made from the skull cap of a great red deer with holes punched where his eyes sit- nothing but black pin pricks where the fire might glint if it caught just the right way.

I remember staring up at him, watching his thick pointed beard slightly bob from under the edge of the mask as he spoke. It was his voice I was first transfixed by. It was gentle and low and masculine, intimate and inviting. Like the soft rising smoke of a stick of incense.

When he was done, everyone raised their drinking cups and toasted to the moral of his final tale- which if I recall was “there is no moral, it’s just a thing that happened.” And everyone cheered “things happen!” And laughed. Cervus sat awhile while people came up to talk to him and give him trinkets and caps. I stayed and watched before he finally stood and parted.

It wasn’t until Cervus was gone that I crept upon the carpet he’d had sat upon and took a moment to sit. I took out my book of scribblings and penned a little drawing of him to commit the moment to memory. I didn’t draw back then as much as I do now. Now I draw every day, but back then I didn’t have the safety to stop and do so. I only had the one book too and I treated the pages real precious like. Paper was hard to come by so I only drew what I thought was important. I didn’t know precisely why at that moment, but I knew seeing that story teller was worth remembering.

Chapter 3 - The Paw’Caso

That evening I took shelter in the shade of the settlement of wall and drew for a long time without looking up much. I figured I’d have a better chance finding the raiders that took the mushrooms at night when I could creep around and not be spotted. I’d look for their bikes first. The thing about Cleghorn is it’s basically just a big walled in camp in the middle of the high-land. It’s filled with lots of traders with booths and things but the only real building is in the middle and it cost a brass cas’ to get in. That building is the “common house” where they pour drinks and the bigger wigs do business at tables and chairs. I didn’t have a cas’ to spend so I couldn’t go in then and there. I just posted up next to it in the shade close by.

While I was sittin there a man passed over my light. He lingered awhile, his shadow cast over me and called my attention up. As soon as I got a look at ‘em I knew what he was— a Hidescribe. The first one I ever met. He was youthful, with big dark eyes that were narrow and sleepy most always. He had a handsome smooth skinned face with a little goatee and mustache and under his nose he wore a ring piercing. When he smiled- which he did a lot- his little canine teeth protruded as sharp and prominent as a cats. His earlobes were stretched and while he did have tattoos they were mostly visible on his bare legs. His arms and other things were unblemished back then. I knew he was a hidescribe though because of his kit. He had his poke tool hanging on a chain around his neck and his hand had the mark- the Black woad sigil. Only Hidescribes have that.

He asked if he could see what I was drawing and before I could say no he sat down beside me. He was wearing a dark blue cotton wrap as a shirt and It was the cleanest bit of clothing I’d even seen. His pants were short and equally impeccable. They were a little dusty and embellished with matching cobalt trim. His booths were laced tight and I could tell he maintained them well. His hair was cut and slicked back, I could tell he took care of his appearance in a way no highwayman would. He smelled clean like wealth.

He bumped my shoulder with his and I passed him over my book for him to thumb through.

“I don’t run into a lot of people that draw still.” He said, his voice was light and tinged with a slight people eater talk.

“Do you draw a lot?” I told him I did, but the truth was I didn’t get much chance.

“You’re really good.” He said and it felt generous. Not dishonest but certainly a kindness. He was complimenting my potential rather than my skill, I could tell.

“Are you a Hidescribe?” I asked him dumbly, looking at the mark on his hand. He lifted it to show me and smiled.

“I just finished my apprenticeship.” He said proudly.

“I came here to tattoo a big warlord -“ he nodded towards the common house.

“In there, the Wax man. You know him?”

I didn’t.

He told me his name was Paw’Caso and I shook his hand.

“Tag Devilish.” I said.

He tucked his hand into his pocket and pulled out a fancy but worn card- real paper. Then, using my book as a backing support he produced a lead piece and scribbled on the cards blank side before handing it to me. I hesitated to take it but he insisted. What a strange thing to give a stranger such a resource for nothing in return.

“Paw’Caso- Hidescribe.” The front said in fancy curly script

As I flipped it over to see the back he stood and said.

“The world needs more artists.” And with a nod of his head he left towards the common house.

On the back of the card appeared to be a little map stamped on it and he had hand drawn an X with some coordinates. I tucked it into my book and went to follow after him but he’d already disappeared inside.

When I turned to return back to my spot I heard the roar of an engine and a sputter with a metallic jingle. From around the back of the settlement, coming towards the common house was a little parade of bikes. A dozen of em’

Four raider scum on janky motor bikes with patched metal and furs for saddles all flanked one big fancy one in all chrome at the front. I recognized the bikes of the underlings- definitely the mushroom thieves-but the leader in the center, he hadn’t been there the night of the raid. Too dirty a deed I’d bet for such a shiny thing.

“Make way!” The raiders called. The one at the front with the jingling engine seemed to be the cryer for the group.

“Make way for Wax the Racer Eraser!”

As the procession came to a halt, the man on the shiny bike- the leader man stepped off. On his hip I saw the leather bag his men had stolen from us.

He spun around theatrically like a goon and shrugged his arms as he made his way backwards towards the common house. he was tall and wore armor made from bike tread and chain.

“Drinks on me boys!” He shouted and as he turned his body to enter the establishment he was met with a bat of nails right into his face.

There was an audible wet “Thwack!” And everyone went silent as his muscular body fell out of the doorway like a rag doll. It was so sudden his underlings were stunned into slack jawed disbelief.

From over Wax’s body a figure stepped. He strutted from the common house and stood over the corpse causally, letting out a single laugh through his nose. Then he whipped his bloodied bat like a fan behind him, sending the excess blood in a wet streak sprinkling the floor and splattering the wall and door way.

He was a big man with the skull of a large predatory cat over his face and a cascade of long black hair. He wore football pads adorned with dried bones. On his right shoulder was the severed head of an alligator and even above his shit kicking boots he had shin gaurds with pieces of spinal column tied to the front.

“What kind of asshole with a bounty on their head announces themselves with a fucking town crier?” He roared with laughter . Behind him blond man in a worn apron peered out with an exasperated look on his face.

“God dammit…�� the blond grumbled and rubbed his nose bridge with distress. Another man pushed past and came to the armored ones side with a grin. He was handsome with heart shaped glasses and a heavy coat with a fur lined collar. He laughed hard.

“I’ll still take a drink if he’s buyin’” he said.

The underlings lost it and dropped their bikes to swarm him, I took my chance and while he swatted them all away like splatting insects I dashed in and snatched the leather waist bag.

“Fuck!” I heard the armored man call. “You little shit! That bag is mine! I’ll skin you alive!” But it was too late, I was off while he was occupied with the angry mob of raiders.

Chapter 4- 3-Death

I ran until I was out of sight and out of breath before I took refuge among the nomadic camps set up beyond the bazaar.

Once the adrenaline faded I opened the bag. Inside I found some brass cas’, meaningless trinkets and a worn piece of canvas advertising a burlesque show by someone called “The Hemptress.” The mushrooms were gone. No sign of them. I pocketed the bullshit loot and just as I shoved the canvas addy in my vest pocket I felt a hard tug on my collar.

The settlment guard had nabbed me. Before I knew it they’d dragged me back into the bazaar and I was labeled a thief- my pack taken and I was tossed into a cell behind their barracks. Turns out, they didn’t give a damn what happened out on the road but you can’t go robbin’ while inside Cleghorn’s walls.

Imagine my surprise when I found myself locked up right beside the big armored man in the cat skull and his blonde friend.

He waited until the last guard walked off then spoke to me through our shared wall, leaning over with his forearms rested through the bars, hands dangling.

“The bag,” he said “what did you do with it?”

I told him the lawmen had taken it along with my backpack and he hung his head.

“But,” I decided to venture further

“The mushrooms weren’t in it. Just a bunch of junk.” He looked back up at me with sudden interest.

“You know about the mushrooms?” He asked.

“I was there at the gathering when they were stolen.” I said. “I came here looking to get them back. You were out to do the same?”

He suddenly looked distant, I suppose he was gauging how much information to safely share with a stranger.

“Something like that.”

The blonde stood up from his seat on the floor and dusted himself off.

“Well, that settles that. The bastard probably ate all of them.” He said.

“No,” the cat skull man said with certainty.

“They’re too valuable. He definitely knew what he had and offloaded them somewhere.”

I emptied my pockets on the floor for them both to see.

“This is all he had.” I told them.

The cat skull man pointed at the folded canvas ad.

“Let me see that.” He demanded and I obliged.

“The Hemptress is a big time Chem dealer, if she’s in town I bet he sold them to her.”

The blonde man looked over his friends shoulder and reached for the ad.

“Well we DEFINITELY better pay her a visit.” He said playfully with a grin.

I introduced myself.

“3 Death.” The big man said extending his hand. I shook it and he locked eyes with me a moment.

“And I am Master chef.” the blonde said theatrically “the full menu alchemist.” He flourished his long apron and flashed me a white toothy smile.

“Where’s your other friend?” I asked.

“The one with the heart glasses.”

“That’s love Machine.” 3 death told me.

“He’s slippery, he never gets caught. Should be busting us out any minute now.”

“How?” I asked looking around at the solid bars and iron walls penning us in.

“He has his ways.” Master chef said and the two looked at each other with knowing amusement.

Chapter 5 - Love machine

We sat in those cells a couple hours and all the while we talked. It turned out 3 death also had trouble fitting in with the people eaters and they had also denied him his rite of passage. The night of the raid he set off to retake the mushrooms but rather than return them, he wanted them for his own so he could do the rite he’d been denied and meet the psilocyren on his own terms among his friends.

Master chief was a little older than us and he had lived a tough life on the road. He used to be a mercenary caught up in a far off tribal war for most of his youth. All he wanted there after was a peaceful life with lady friends and no more starving. He wanted to settle down, get supplies and cook, maybe one day get a solid camp going and make a home with a trusted group. 3 death and Love Machine were his people and they stuck together for safety and companionship. Family.

“If we can sell a few of those mushrooms” he looked at 3 death with a preemptive tone of diplomacy

“-not ALL of them, just a little, we can get supplies maybe even open a tavern or a pit stop. They’re worth a fortune to the right people.”

3 death was losing his patience and had begun to pace. When night fell and before long-true to the assumption- Love machine came strolling in like he owned the place, keys in hand.

“There’s our boy!” Master chef whooped.

“We’ll have to go out the back,” love machine said, unlocking their cell with no sense of urgency.

“Orgy started in the barracks and I don’t want them to notice I slipped away.”

3 death nodded in my direction and said

“She’s coming with us. Her name’s Tag.”

Without questioning it Love Machine unlocked my cell. I thanked him gratefully and followed after the trio with haste and sudden unquestioning loyalty.

Sure enough, sounds of ecstasy and moans of rapture could be heard from the barracks and we slipped away and back into town unnoticed.

“How did you manage that?” I whispered to Love machine with grim curiosity.

“I’m Love Machine .” He shrugged

Chapter 6- The Hemptress

The Hemptress’ den was easy to find. In the darkness her flowing netted tent glowed with the warmth of hundreds of candles and it drew wandering passersby like lonely moths.

As we stepped into the tent the smell of herbs was heavy in the air. Small clouds of chems floated above us like contented ghosts and there was an overall feeling of safety and comfort. The ground was carpeted and lush and strewn about were lounging strangers, smoking from grand brass pipes and whisper-talking amongst themselves over cups flowing with dark wine.

Seated on a large plush floor pillow towards the back of the den was the Hemptress herself, a snake draped upon her shoulders and a small entourage of attractive heathens surrounding her like a little audience.

“Hemptress,” 3 death spoke on the group’s behalf.

“We have business.”

She turned her large catlike eyes upon our group with curiosity and let a stream of smoke trail out from past her lips. I could see that her teeth appeared to be painted, shiny and black. She split the smoke with a forked tongue and motioned to her hangers-on to depart for a moment. they took their leave without question.

“…and how might I be of service?” She asked in a youthful relaxed voice.

We all took a cross legged seat on the carpet and she pushed an ornate but worn plate of fruit towards us. Her hands were dark with tattoos and her long hair draped over her shoulders in thick black locks tinged green. She had bangs cut short just above her eyebrows and thick black eyelashes.

“ We’re looking for some stolen loot we think might have passed hands around here.” 3 Death said, reaching for a plump grape apprehensively.

“Chems?” The Hemptress asked, leaning back and making herself more comfortable.

“Mushrooms.” I chimed in.

“They were stolen from the people eaters and brought here.”

She sat back up more alert.

“Psilocyren mushrooms.” She said knowingly.

“Here?”

“We think so.” 3 death continued.

By his side Master chef reached for a handful of fruit gleefully.

“They were taken by Wax the raider war lord-“

“That guys a prick.” The Hemptress chuckled.

“He came around the other night and made a mess, he’s not welcome here.” She said.

“Well, he won’t be bothering you anymore.” love machine said with amusement.

“Fuck,” 3 death said, “so he didn’t offload any of them here huh?”

“Oh no,” replied the Hemptress.

“Although he did make a donation to the King. He sent it with the caravan that left yesterday.”

3 Death and I both looked at one another.

“What king?”

“The commander.” She explained with a bit of surprise.

“… King of Brycelandia. He owed him a debt from what I understand. Paid it off with a bag of things left on the donation wagon- it’s here every month and then it heads off with the Junktown folk to the kingdom.”

3 death began to stand with urgency.

“We have to catch up to them-“

“They have a days ride ahead of you.” The Hemptress said.

“It’ll be dangerous on the road this late. You can travel with us tomorrow.” She gestured for him to sit again.

“There’s no time for that.” 3 death spat.

“ If the mushies are on their way to Brycelandia they won’t be eaten until the feast in three days time.” Hemptress explained.

“We’ll be on our way there tomorrow for that and you’re welcome to join us. It’s the time of the fallen- they’ll be celebrating.”

Master Chef lit up.

“A feast?!” He exclaimed excitedly.

“Oh we’re, going!” He proclaimed, tugging 3 death’s by the arm and back into a sitting position.

“No way are we missing that! You guys need cooks?”

“I’m sure the king wouldn’t turn down the help-“ Hemptress said.

“Well that settles it!” Master chef said.

“Tomorrow we’re off to see the king!”

(End Part 1)

[wasteland-land-shark]

Twisted reflection

Twisted reflection

This is how she sees it. Finn is just a doppelganger, taking the life SHE was meant to have.

[fizzyboy]

Son of a- I haven't explained this shit at all.

Ok, so basically. There are ichor deposits around a building. Those big freaking machines. You don't just fill them up to progress, you fill them up so you siphon ichor out them and put them into capsules for later use.

The capsules themselves can be inserted into small machines and openings for temporary fuel. Since these typically need to be replaced regularly and nobody has been doing it, the toons have to find the machines to progress as usually.

However, it's NOT required to find all of them. They can find enough to fuel what they need and move on, OR they find more to save the ichor for later use.

[milramemo]

(World lore ramble?)

Nelyne is not an elf, or at least not like that. People in the world of Wasteland Mage are all humans (same species.) They have different ear shapes, which are hereditary but don't tell much about that person. They're not an indication of their ethnicity or magical ability. It's just a facial feature. Their usual lifespans are the same as irl humans. Nelyne is in her 20s if we don't count her time in the stasis pod, but due to a lot of arcane experiments done on her, it is unknown if she's mutated or what her lifespan would be.

[dilemmaart]

Demi Duality and her Wonders of the Wonder Wastes. ✨

Jackson belongs to my wonderful husband @captsharkb8 💖

Please do not repost the art ‼️

[manuellarts]

War and Heartbreak

"Has the Lord sent you to War to keep you

Away from me?

Has the warmth of my love filled the Sun

With Jealousy?

What wrong have I done by putting my

Heart into your hands?

I promise, I never would let you carry

the weight of my guilt.

But you are acquainted with the rain

that pours out of my eyes,

and all of the words that remain

unspoken.

The Sun is too cruel to be merciful,

and my skies shall remain darkened.

If only I could rid myself of the knowledge,

that you will be torn apart, reduced to a shell.

My heart is made of glass,

Hidden within a cold forest,

Yet every single shard reflects

None but your face.

I long for you to come back,

But War won't leave you unchanged.

You promise you will be alright,

that it should, in no way, add to my guilt,

but day by day, my heart turns to stone,

and tears flood my rivers."

Impromptu verses to accompany the images 🩷 I love them so much 😔🩷

[starry-bi-sky]

I am so interested in hearing more about the world building of your stillborn still-born au!

So what exactly is the burning mountain island and its ecosystem? And have you built out anything for the far frozen in return? Do the far frozen and molten lava island have relations or do they avoid each other? Are they friendly or enemies? Since the yetis of the far frozen are healer-warriors are the locals of the volcano also healer-warriors or are they something else? Does the volcano have an equivalent to Frostbite(maybe called heatstroke or something similar?) to help Danny with his powers and become his ally?

WHY I AM SO GLAD YOU ASKED!

( @ishkagrante because they asked me the same thing)

The Molten Springs is a mega-island similar to the Far Frozen, but rather than being made up of extreme cold, it's made of extreme heat! The name "Molten Springs" is me playing with the words 'hot springs' and it stems from this fanart I saw a few years back of Vlad relaxing in a pool of lava and Danny being very judgy about it lmao. It's a large, mountainous-volcanic region made up of hundreds of mountains and volcanos. All the rivers, lakes, ponds, etc are made up of lava rather than water. It's extremely hot, as you would expect, and the further inland you go the hotter it gets as you come across more volcanic activity.

All greater rivers and lakes lead back to the center of the island, where Mt. Abzi (created from the word obsidian) stands, a massive active volcano that is thousands of feet tall and is constantly bubbling out lava and feeding it into the rivers. Two to sometimes three times a mortal year it fully erupts, shooting out a massive geyser beam of lava into the sky like a beacon, that lasts thirty minutes before cooling down for a few minutes or hours, before shooting up again. These cause what the locals call a "magma storm", which is basically the human equivalent of flood season because the lava that goes up must come down, and it rains down over the island. This can trigger other volcanoes into full eruption.

I've currently got two names for the greater rivers.

There's Ruzhu (created from the word Eruption), the river that leads over into the Ruzhi Canyon, a great canyon made of obsidian and igneous rock. It's a pretty popular tourist destination, if you get there when the firelight is low you can watch the light glitter and bounce off the walls.

Then there's Spicoria, a river that leads over into the mountain ranges, surrounded by sandbox trees made of petrified wood and smoking leaves. The rapids here grow the sindrillies! Rare purple flowers that resemble the lilies of the nile, they only grow in extremely hot areas. So you can only really find them underground or by the rocky areas of the river rapids. Most flowers come in the same color range as heat. So in oranges, reds, whites, yellows, and blues. The warmer the colors, the more common they are.

Locals live most commonly in caves, in the mountainy ranges where there's less volcano activity (its more convenient), in cold pockets (where the air there is significantly cooler *in comparison to the surrounding area), in the lava. Under-lava cities are very common here, there are entire cities built at the bottom of the lakes and leading into the underground tunnels. Buildings are made of the surrounding igneous rock and obsidian. Gemstones like opal, olivine, agate, amethyst, etc are found growing here since lava has a hand in their creation. They're a little different compared to mortal gemstones, since instead of water they're made of crystalizing ectoplasm. Although what those differences are, I haven't yet figured out.

Jewelry, tablets, sculpting, and oral storytelling are a popular form of artistry since paper really isn't,,, cohesive with extreme heat. Windows, if there are any, are made of volcanic glass and tend to be stained, with various designs on them that depend on the owner's preferences. Due to the lava rivers outside, it's not uncommon for ghosts to wear loose black garments when traveling around in order to avoid getting their inside clothes dirty. Think desert-wear!

I haven't though much about them being healer-warriors (and I'll admit it completely slipped my mind) but it's pretty common for ghosts to go to the lava hot springs, which are situated on the outskirts of the the island, in order to unwind. At least the ones who can withstand the heat when it's at its weakest. Some ghosts can go in deeper, but its really only the fire-core ghosts (like Danny and Vlad) that can actually handle the full heat of the molten springs without melting.

Rip to blob ghosts, Danny watched one melt like an ice cube in his hand once.

The residents of the Molten Springs are fire-core ghosts and other various heat-related mythological beasts. Cyclops, dragons, phoenixes, salamanders, etc etc. If they've got a heat or fire motif, they're there. The Yeti equivalents would have to be the Dragons, because that's who Sunburn is!

Sunburn is the Frostbite equivalent, and he's a massive dragon the size of a mountain, with black obsidian scales. Although he can shrink himself down to size. Danny's only two feet shorter than his eye, which is a lovely amethyst color, and it matches the color of his feathery mane! His mane itself is made of peacock feathers, with purple being the main color and the eyes being a startling electric blue. His fire opal horns are six-pointers, and from a distance blends in with the streams of lava running down the mountains. Despite his vibrant plumage and the jewelry he decorates himself with, he blends in with the surrounding igneous rock worryingly well.

He lives in a massive cave at a collapsed caldera volcano, Danny stumbled across him once on his first journey into the Molten Springs (<- has never watched the far frozen ep so i don't know what happened in it) and woke hm up on accident. Scared the shit out of Danny because he turned around and there was this giant purple eye staring at him.

but it's okay! Sunburn's like. a hippie. so he's really chill. Super chill actually. He's had thousands of years to just chill out. Which is a really good contrast for Danny who is the exact opposite of chill and is constantly on the verge of eruption himself. He helps Danny learn some emotional regulation and how to thermal regulate better.

Sunburn has, on numerous occasions, rumbled out a lazy "nap time" when he thinks Danny's getting too worked up, and then turned and pinned Danny beneath his muzzle. It doesn't hurt him, but it's like a big weighted blanket and it's also like a cat sleeping on you, so even if Dany could move, he wouldn't. He eventually falls asleep 9/10.

Sunburn will also just toss him into the lake outside the cave just. Whenever. What's gonna happen? Danny gets burned? Don't make him laugh. It usually gets Danny out of whatever mental spiral he's in and is just one of the few methods that makes him relax.

As for the Far Frozen! They're on the opposite ends of the ghost zone from each other and are on pretty neutral terms. Residents don't meet often due to their drastically opposite climates, but they can meet somewhere outside of the Molten Springs or Far Frozen, or, with the right equipment, meet in their respective islands. Sunburn and Frostbite are good friends, because I think it's funny if Sunburn has nicknamed Frostbite "Freezerburn".

Also Sunburn doesn't dislike just anyone, but he fucking hates Vlad.

[lilacsareinteresting]

My two cents about the Elders' stars and my headcanons about their star of origin ^u^

Apparently, Skykids and Elders came from the same origin, that is falling from the heavens as a star. This inspired me to think of headcanons as to what their stars could be and an explanation as to how that is their star

Bear in mind I haven't exactly read up on the rest of the lore yet and I may make some mistakes here and there because uhhh I will stand by my headcanons for life and I will fight everyone for it /pos /hj ',:)

Daleth / Isle Elder / Dawn - Red Dwarf Star

In my opinion, the Red Dwarf Star fits Daleth, seeing as their realm is reminiscent of a sunrise or at the very least the appearance of the sun breaching just over the horizon, the light is dimmer in the realm compared to Prairie, matching with the lesser brightness given by a red dwarf rather than a yellow dwarf—our own sun

While I am sure Daleth's work is important, perhaps shepherding an aviary of light birds or a kaleidoscope of butterflies until sent to Prairie is a demanding job seeing as both are abundant in Isle, I do assume they use their light for guidance to help the animals and bugs, sometimes, especially in the past, even the boats if their people needed them at night/generally if lost

Ayin / Prairie Elder / Day - Yellow Dwarf Star

A Yellow Dwarf Star seems perfectly reasonable for Ayin, as his realm is essentially the reflection of the morning, with the sun beaming in the sky and providing the perfect environment for fauna and flora alike, especially in Bird's Nest and Butterfly Fields, making it clear the environment is healthy enough to sustain a balanced ecosystem**

I believe that storing butterflies takes quite a bit of light the more is stored, and the reason why is for cultural practices, butterdyes/colourflies/dyeflies (Radiance, so probably inapplicable in canon though I am not sure), and overall having builders and civilians must take quite a bit of light to manage, so their slightly higher energy usage is reflected in their star

Teth / Forest Elder / Rain - Red Supergiant Star

I personally like to suspect that the reason why Forest is the most industrialized area in terms of creating technology such as Octahedrons is the abundance of the minerals needed in the forest alongside light, though dampened by the acid rain, which may have been an adverse effect of said production which could be damaging to the environment

Smithing includes great usage of energy, and dependency on light to create a balance between darkness and light to create a stable alloy/containment/vessel, and because of this, the light expenditures must have been grand as it seems that Forest is almost dependent on light to function, hence the star of origin here being the Red Supergiant

Samehk / Sah and Mehk / Valley Elders / Sunset - Red Giant Star

I like to think that they were one star separated by an odd occurrence, which then their cores were distributed among them both and now they have a constant fiery and strong competitiveness, all instilled in Valley folks; that is, their passion. All valley citizens are most likely passionate about their interests, seeing as they celebrate the grandest, and have a colosseum dedicated to entertainment or matches, generally for sports activities around light

The use of light in the Valleys is integral to their cultural significance and their environment, as the demand for light might be great in the high mountains where there is less oxygen for any flame to properly kindle while they host events that may use up quite a bit of light

Tsadi / Wasteland Elder / Dusk - Brown Dwarf Star

I often thought that maybe Tsadi's star would be exhausted instead of naturally small, seeing as the warrior seemed fatigued during their cutscene at the altar. The demand for light in Wasteland might be incredibly high yet production is low as there is almost no light in the realm apart from Treasure Reef and a few gaps in The Arc, which fit into the Brown Dwarf as it is unable to sustain nuclear fission, unlike other stars, hence, far less light compared to other stars

The light must be focused inside of the weapons instead, though it appears that the war has been lost anyway in the end, fulfilling the idea of a Brown Dwarf as it was unfortunately not enough despite the efforts given to sustain the people, as seen in The Arc's attempt at farmland and their water supply

Lamed / Vault Elder / Night - Blue Giant Star

(Sorry if I sound biased I love Lamed by a lot)

The Vault Elder is incredibly suspicious in lore and seems to have shrunken exponentially compared to their Orbit appearance, which may entail that Elders use up quite a bit of light/energy to upkeep their realms as they all shrink in Orbit, because of this, I truly believe that the Vault is an extension of Lamed, heavily weakening the Elder in exchange of becoming all-knowing of all the knowledge stored in the stars upon stars of the non-euclidean interior of the Vault

The energy usage of the Vault, while possibly self-sustaining while using octahedrons imported from Forest, is incredibly high, as stacks upon stacks of memory lanterns are stored on high shelves, the elevator functions, and the extreme use of light in most situations between each layer of the Realm, all of which demand extreme power usage, especially after its entrances have been sealed shut

I won't be doing Resh/Alef, I do not know anything about him sorry :(( but I hope this rant was even a tiny bit understandable because it has 0 contributions to the actual lore B))) it's 2 am btw why did I do this in one go it might not make sense

[leaf-in-a-flower-garden]

I redrew that one drawing of child elders, with much more effort lolz

(click for better quality)

[wilmaaaa0]

Sometimes I think about how Miquella literally threw away all aspects of what he once was, INCLUDING his Grace. We see that from his character model his eyes are gray, which means he's Graceless.

You could view this action in two ways:

1. Miquella was so confident in his plan that he deemed nothing would stop him at this point, and since he's going to start his own order anyways, he doesn't need grace anymore (not expecting our Tarnished to come flying from the bleachers with a steel chair)

2. Miquella was so desperate to show he was atoning for Marika's sins, and was so desperate to succeed, that he threw away his Grace in the hopes it would help him ascend, danger or no

It's really up to the player to decide which one they think is more likely.

Either way, when we kill him...he's dead dead. There's no coming back for him; he doesn't get placed in the Erdtree and his soul will never be reincarnated. Which is...really, really sad, imo. Not only did he sacrifice everything, he FINALLY achieved his goal, and then we kill him right out the gate and...it's over.

That's it. That's all that Miquella will have done or will ever do. His legacy is an unfinished one, even when he finally got the power to finish it all.

[tag-the-degenerate]

Hidescribe lore: The Black Woad

[fizzyboy]

Sinking

Boxten is/was an overworker. He dodged a lot of social interaction behind work in Gardenview. All intentionally, unintentionally, and because he doesn't like leaving stuff unfinished.

[skykidsam]

Took some really interesting pictures in Wasteland today

There's this one - just two skids casually sitting inside a turret, wondering what exactly it used to shoot

I don't necessarily think this is true, but the pipes hooked up to the big middle one made me think of them as giant polluted waterguns

Were all of these turrets? There's 5 total confirmed on the Temple, and potentially another 4+ on the ground.

Were these meant to target people? Light creatures? Dark creatures?

Also, side note, anyone else notice that absolutely massive wall directly behind the turret to the right? It's spans the whole back of the Temple. Kinda interesting, especially considering all the giant doors inside the Temple. But when the main door opens, it opens to a long hallway into the Vault. So... I guess we are technically seeing the bottom outer portion of the Vault there? Makes sense to keep all that knowledge and stored technology behind so much protection.

Anyway, what about the king statue on the front of the ship? Is it also a turret? Or just a plain ol' king statue?

And just for some more random fun:

This is what it looks like looking back on the Temple after you cross the spirit gate near the shipwreck - it looks a bit different. Wonder what that's about.

And finally, these bad boys - I know we all have our theories, I'm thinking they're water treatment plants - an attempt to rid the water of pollution once it started becoming an issue incapable of being ignored. What are you thinking??

[madmaxloredump]

Ornamentation analysis; The Green Place

The Green Place is an oasis in the Australian outback, populated by the people known as The Vuvalini.

They mostly live off of vegetables, fruits and even fish, an extreme luxury in the wasteland.

Their houses and clothing are mostly blue. Solar panels cover the roofs and walls of their homes, sustaining them with clean energy, which they also get from windmils and possibly even the water.

I have observed that the men seem to only wear white, whereas the women wear mostly blue. The blue could be chosen because of the blue solar panels, the water or the connection to royalty, since the women of the Green Place are the rulers and warriors.

Their clothing is all very practical for the environment in which they live. Loose fitting robes of different sources and materials, but what looks to be denim, canvas and/or linnen. Belts worn over these garments around the waist are personalized for each individual. Mary Jabassa, Furiosa's mother and the leader of the Vuvalini, has a sheath for a large machette on her belt, as well as a pouch in which she is shown to store bullets at the beginning of furiosa.

Furiosa herself has a small, colorful purse in which she puts a peach. She most likely uses it for gathering our into the wilds.

The people of the Green Place do not wear shoes, most likely because the area in which they live is relatively safe, with plenty of shade so they wont burn their feet on the hot sand, or debris and rocks to step on.

Whistles are also a part of the culture of the Green Place, used as their communication system, for example to warn when scavengers invade their home.

Mary Jabassa wears a steel whistle on a black string around her neck.

The Vuvalini general wears a black wooden conductors whistle on a string.

Valkyrie has a small bamboo whistle with a red cap on a white string.

Furiosa wears a brass boatswain whistle on a chain, which she uses to warn her people.

While the people of the Green Place live relatively peaceful lives, they are extremely prepared to defend themselves at any cost.

All of their clothing and arsenal is extremely practical and also sustainable. Later, in Fury Road we see a different side of the Vuvalini which i will talk about in another post.

The people of the green place ride horses. They decorate the horses by putting bells in their manes, perhaps as a show of affection or simply to track them if they ever get lost.

[dilemmaart]

Some Piper lore ✨

- He/They (shapeshifter, and more of a celestial being than anything human)

- One of Wasteland Wonderland’s Wonders (The Guide)

- His Duality is Monster.

- Piper’s bubbles are his form of ‘spells’. He can use them to cast portals, doorways into other worlds, use them as windows into other realities (past and future included) and if need be, they act as a sleep powder that induces visions when popped.

- True appearance includes 6 arms, but he’s admittedly a little vain and prefers to alter his daily form into something befitting a traditional siren.

- He floats and ‘swims’ through the air, not just water. He has no use for legs other than when he feels like it which isn’t often.

🚫 PLEASE DO NOT REPOST THE ART. THANK YOU ❤️🚫

[manuellarts]

I really needed a VISUAL for all the bits of lore so I did it myself 💃I hope to have enough motivation and time to work on more of this because . . I need it and i love it