HAPPY TOLKIEN READING DAY!!!! (March 25)

Welcome to Book II, Chapter III ("The Ring Goes South") of The Fellowship of the Ring, being chapter 15 of The Lord of the Rings as we continue our journey through the week of Mar. 26-Apr. 1 here in 2023.
After the council meeting, the Hobbits held a meeting of their own. Merry and Pippin were offended that Sam had been chosen to accompany Frodo, and not them. Gandalf told them that scouts had been sent out to gather information about the Black Riders and that Frodo could not leave unless they come back with news. Gandalf told Frodo that he might accompany him, but for now Frodo had to remain at Rivendell and help Bilbo with a book of records he was completing.
The Hobbits remained at Rivendell for two months, by which time the scouts began to return. No news was to be had of the Black Riders, from any direction, except a few lost horses and torn cloaks. It was decided that Frodo must leave at once, accompanied by Sam and Gandalf. Elrond also decided that they should increase their numbers to nine, in order to match the Black Riders. Legolas would represent the Elves; Gimli, son of Glóin, would represent Dwarves and Aragorn (Strider)) would represent Men. Since Aragorn's path to Minas Tirith would lead with them, Boromir would also go along. Reluctantly, Pippin and Merry were allowed to go.
Aragorn's broken sword was re-forged and named Andúril, the Flame of the West. Bilbo gave Frodo a small knife, named Sting, and a shirt of mithril armour to be worn under his clothes. Each traveller brought their personal weapon and Sam took the pony Bill. They set out with the understanding that, except for Frodo, each was free to leave the party whenever he chose.
They reached the ruins in Hollin and the first stage of their journey was complete. Strider felt like they were being observed by someone and noticed black crebain out of Dunland and Fangorn flying low over the land. The group decided to leave, and at one point even saw a dark shadow pass over the land.
Later, the Company reached Caradhras, one of the three Mountains of Moria. They attempted to reach the Redhorn Gate and thus descend the mountain near Mirrormere. The snow was very deep at the Pass, however, and soon their escape was barred by a large drift. Aragorn and Boromir forced a path through it and carried the Hobbits back to safety while the rest walked or rode Bill the pony through their path. [1]
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Here are some maps and further information relevant to the chapter from The Encyclopedia of Arda: River Anduin, Azanulbizar, Bag End, Baraz (Barazinbar), Black Pit (Moria), River Brandywine, Bree, Bundushathûr (Fanuidhol),Cahadras (The Redhorn), Celebdil the White (Silvertine), Cloudyhead (Fanuidhol), Dark Tower (The Barad-dûr), Dimrill Dale (Valley of Nanduhirion), Dimrill Stair, Dunland, Dwarrowdelf (Khazad-dûm ), Ettenmoors, Fangorn, Fanuidhol the Grey, Fiery Mountain (Orodruin), Ford of Bruinen, Gap of Rohan, Gladden Fields, Gladden River, Great River in Wilderland (River Anduin), River Greyflood, Hall of Fire (Tale-Hall of Rivendell), Havens, River Hoarwell (Mitheithel), Hobbiton, Hollin (Eregion), House of Elrond (Rivendell), Imladris, Khazad-dûm, Lake Kheled-zâram, Kibil-nâla (Silverlode), Last Homely House (House of Elrond), Lonely Mountain, Minas Tirith, Mirkwood, Mirrormere (Lake Kheled-zâram) , Misty Mountains, Mordor, Moria, Mount Doom (Orodruin), Nanduhirion (The Dimrill Dale), North Road, Northfarthing, Redhorn (Caradhras), Redhorn Gate, Rhosgobel, Rivendell, Shathûr (Fanuidhol), The Shire, River Silverlode (Celebrant), Silvertine (Zirakzigil), Tharbad, White Mountains, Wilderland (Wilderness of Rhovanion), Zirak (Zirakzigil).
Phil Dragash narrates "The Ring Goes South" at the Internet Archive.
For drafts and history of this chapter, see The Return of the Shadow, pp. 406-9, 415-41; The Treason of Isengard, pp. 161-75. From The Lord of the Rings: A Reader's Companion (2014), Book II, Chapter 3, pp. 261-273.
Interactive Middle-earth Map by the LOTR Project.
Announcement and Index: 2023 Lord of the Rings Read-Along Announcement and Index

I play on ps4, lvl 117 and while I'm running around clearing dungeons/exploring I like having my red sign down at all summon pools neafar so I can practice with pvp since I'm not great at it yet. I start off bowing, I don't use my physick even if the host or their summons do. But I keep getting summoned to people who are just standing over my sign swinging immediately, or I get summoned into a gank squad. I get why people dislike invasions, it's part of the reason I'm putting my duel sign down for pvp practice so I can do better against invaders. But why summon a duelist just to immediately start shooting spells or starting off with a group curbstomping the person YOU chose to summon. I'm not new to the game, I just never realized how toxic dueling can be.

Bonne lecture.
Le jour de l’enterrement. En réalité c’est un jour très spécial car il est unique et totalement imprévu. Personne, pas même un servant, n’aurait pu se douter qu’une personne aussi puissante et haut placée pouvait mourrir, surtout dans la ville la plus riche de la planète. Etant donnée les circonstances aucun loisir ne sera disponible ce qui a pour conséquence le cloisonnement des servants dans la sous-ville alors qu’habituellement tous se précipitent chaque matin en direction de l’ascenseur pour se mettre au travail. Les travailleurs en profitent donc pour prolonger leur sommeil, la perte de Natasha ne les attriste pas plus que cela. Dans leur cercueil certains doivent sûrement être en train de bénir l’assassin. « En tout cas les morts parmi nous seront moins nombreux aujourd’hui ». Charlie est lui aussi allongé dans son lit à réfléchir aux évènements pour la millième fois. A se questionner sur les raisons qui ont conduit à cet échec, « saleté de couple! Une fois de plus ils ont gâché ma vie! ». Toutefois ce qui l’inquiète le plus est la réaction de Cindy, il sait qu’elles étaient assez proche et à cause de cette stupide erreur elle a perdu un être cher. « J’espère qu’elle me pardonnera ». Ironie du sort, il est l’un des porteurs du cercueil, il aura donc certainement l’opportunité de la voir et peut-être même de lui parler.
La ville est voilée dans l’obscurité alors que le soleil est bien levé dans le Pacifique Sud. L’atmosphère est sombre dans la ville, seule la tour est baignée de lumière. Le reste de la ville est encore plongé dans la nuit. Pour les résidants la journée va s’annoncer ennuyeuse, voire pénible pour beaucoup d’autres. Toute la partie loisirs de la ville est en veille, un message indirecte du chef voulant certainement signifier que personne ne doit s’amuser ou prendre du bon temps, en clair la mort de l’un des nôtres vaut plus que vos plaisirs personnel.
Le corps sera présenté dans un cercueil de cristal pour un dernier recueillement. Un cortège débutera depuis la tour centrale pour entamer une longue traversée sur le fleuve, puis continuera sa course le long de la zone de jonction entre le centre-ville et la zone de loisirs. Enfin une cérémonie privée se tiendra proche de sa demeure, au pied de la pyramide où elle sera enterrée comme une reine. Elle reposera près de ses monuments historique qu’elle affectionnait tant. Evidemment tout le monde est convié à participer à cette cérémonie sans quoi une sanction pécuniaire sera ajoutée à la facture pour les résidants absent, qu’elle qu’en soit le motif. L’annonce de l’enterrement s’est fait partout en ville et ce sur tous les supports électroniques disponible. La durée est indéterminée, de toute manière Paradisia sera sur pause le temps des funérailles. La grande majorité des servants resteront cloitrés dans la sous-ville tandis qu’une infime partie travaillera lors de la cérémonie.
Les servants enfermés dans la sous-ville seront assis par terre dans chaque section à suivre obligatoirement le cortège par transmission vidéo. Le reste, comme Charlie et beaucoup d’autres, seront en charge des étapes de la cérémonie. Cela ne le gêne pas même si la perspective de rester assis toute la journée lui plaisait. En tout cas le pire semble passé, durant ces deux derniers jours Charlie se rongeait les sangs de peur que l’on découvre l’identité du coupable. Toutefois, personne ne s’est montré donc logiquement quelqu’un d’autre paiera pour son acte.
Cindy, cloitrée dans sa chambre, s’est terrée dans un profond silence. Allongée dans son lit, elle fixe son plafond, vêtue de sa magnifique robe noire. Elle repense en boucle à la scène, Natasha était comme sa soeur pourtant aucune larme ne coule. Ce qu’elle ressent surtout c’est de la mélancolie, penser au fait qu’elle est sans doute coupable de sa mort. Cependant pour éviter de sombrer dans cette abîme de dépression elle reste concentrée sur les paroles rassurantes de son père. C’est la première fois que la pauvre fille connaît la tristesse de perdre un être cher. A cela s’ajoute le secret concernant l’identité du coupable. Elle ne lui en veut pas, elle a été témoin de la scène, l’un des calices a été pris par Louise au dernier moment. Malheureusement elle craint qu’en parler causerait du tort à Charlie:
— Le pauvre, il perdra son emploi, voire pire, et moi je me retrouverai seule. Je crois que je tiens beaucoup trop à lui.
Plus le temps passe et moins son envie de rester en ville lui plait. Elle souhaite visiter le monde, mûrir car sans pouvoir l’expliquer elle est consciente que quelque chose cloche dans sa vie. Cependant elle n’a aucune idée de la marche à suivre, à part l’aéroport il n’y a pas d’autre échappatoire. Ironique dans le sens où ce paradis devient une prison une fois à l’intérieur. Cindy commence à prendre conscience que sa vie se déroule dans une cage dorée.
Quelques heures plus tard, tous les résidants se rendent à la tour centrale. Une première, puisque personne, à part les locataires et l’élite, n’a le droit de fouler l’intérieur de ce temple sacré. Le magnifique corps de Natasha est exposée dans un cercueil transparent fait de cristal pur et incrusté de pierre précieuses aussi rare et beau qu’elle. L’embaument est si bien réussi qu’on la croirait simplement endormie sur cette nappe de rose rouge. Natasha est vêtue d’une robe blanche, crée personnellement par Cécilia comportant de nombreuses décorations introuvable sur le continent. Sa chevelure est comme à l’accoutumée, imposante et couverte de bijoux et d’ornements.
Les résidants se recueillent chacun leur tour face à ce corps. A côté, des servants, principalement femme, pleurent pour accentuer la gravité de cette perte. Bien évidemment ses larmes ne sont pas sincères, simplement une mascarade obligatoire pour éviter de mourrir de faim. Une douce oraison funèbre berce les lieux et un millier de bougies parfumées accompagnées d’un simple faisceau de lumière éclairent le cercueil de Natasha.
Charlie se trouve juste au-dessus, attendant d’effectuer sa tâche, avec un smoking flambant neuf pour l’occasion. Sachant qu’il va porter une charge très lourde, il insère un rembourrage en mousse, qu’il avait préalablement arraché d’un fauteuil hors de prix situé à l’étage, sur ses épaules. « Hors de question que je souffre inutilement, je porte déjà une croix bien lourde sur mes épaules inutile d’en rajouter davantage ». Ses pensées sont continuellement obsédées par la réaction de Cindy lorsqu’ils se reverront « va-t-elle m’adresser la parole? M’en veut-elle pour ce que j’ai fait? Et si elle décide de me dénoncer que va-t-il m’arriver? ».
Un garde fait irruption dans la pièce où se trouve Charlie ainsi que la vingtaine de servant qui vont porter le cercueil:
— Dépêchez-vous de sortir, le chef ne tolérera aucun retard sur le planning. Une dernière chose, gare à vous si vous flanchez lorsque vous porterez le cercueil ou vous finirez noyés dans l’océan. Tous sortent et rejoignent le hall où se trouvent encore de nombreux résidants en recueillement. Aucune présence de l’élite, ils doivent sans doute attendre sur les lieux de l’enterrement.
Devant cette foule, Charlie et ses camarades, portent le très lourd cercueil posé dans une sorte de petit temple de marbre et d’or. A l’arrière, une dizaine de servantes pleurent, en robe noire de funérailles, tout en soulevant un long tissu comme elles le faisaient de son vivant. Les soldats suivent de près le cortège pour éviter une quelconque intrusion et accentuer le côté sacré et divin de Natasha.
Le cortège se rend droit dans le fleuve où les chutes d’eau se sont interrompus, l’approvisionnement en eau potable est suspendu le temps des funérailles. Dans l’Eridan, un long et large bateau, ressemblant à une barque solaire de l’Égypte antique, attend le corps sans vie de Natasha pour l’emmener parader tristement à travers la ville jusqu’à son lieu de repos éternel. Sa proue est ornée d’un phénix en or déployant ses ailes. Charlie dépose le mini temple sur l’embarcation, son épaule le fait horriblement souffrir, un peu plus et le poids de la structure lui cassera la clavicule et les vertèbres.
L’embarcation se dirige vers la montagne puis se dirigera au Sud, toujours sur le fleuve, pour rejoindre la pyramide. Le défilé avance lentement, grâce aux coups de rame des servants, sous les yeux des résidants. Sur chaque coté de la rive, des servantes jettent des pétales de fleurs, une douce odeur envahit la scène et les feuilles dérivent sur l’eau créant un magnifique tableau d’adieu. Charlie se sent très oppressé avec tous ses regards tournés vers lui, sûrement la culpabilité d’être à l’origine de ce désastre. « Quelle ironie, le meurtrier est sous leurs yeux et ils n’en n’ont pas conscience. Je pense même qu’ils s’en moquent ». Charlie en arrive à cette conclusion car il aperçoit des résidants, surtout les plus jeunes, agacés de ne pas pouvoir profiter des nombreuses activités de la ville.
Pendant ce temps dans la sous-ville, des centaines de milliers de servants sont assis par terre, les yeux fixés sur la projection holographique de la cérémonie. Si les résidants n’ont pour obligation que la présence physique, les servants sont dans une toute autre situation. Si par mégarde ils protestent, se lèvent ou encore détournent le regard de l’écran, la puce les électrocute violemment. Une façon comme une autre de rendre important ce tragique évènement.
La barque avance lentement sur l’Eridan, le silence est pesant surtout pour Charlie. Il appréhende de plus en plus le moment où il croisera Cindy. L’ambiance est insupportable, tous ces regards fixés vont le rendre fou. La culpabilité le ronge à tel point qu’il se croirait sur le Styx voguant vers l’enfer pour subir son châtiment.
Une heure et demi s’écoule et la barque arrive enfin à destination, l’entrée de la réserve. Après avoir paradé devant tous les résidants, Natasha sera observée une dernière fois par les personnes qu’elle appréciait le plus. Pour l’évènement, une sorte de quai a été crée par des servants constructeurs. Charlie et ses camarades soulèvent le cercueil abrité dans son temple et l’emmène à destination de la pyramide. Sous celle-ci un tombeau fut construit après que la pyramide ait été amenée pierre après pierre, Natasha a toujours répété que dans l’éventualité où elle disparaitrait elle souhaiterait reposer comme une reine sous le monument.
Les épaules des servants sont mis à rude épreuve, Charlie en revient presque à regretter les regards méprisant des résidants. Le poids fait flancher certains porteurs, heureusement pour eux le terrain est plat. Une dizaine de minutes suffiront aux porteurs pour acheminer avec succès la défunte auprès des siens et de sa nouvelle demeure.

I’m recently separated after 2 decades and I’ve always had a difficult time finding women attractive right off the bat. In fact I initially wasn’t attracted to my ex until I found out there were a lot of guys chasing her at our uni. In a recent therapy session I was explaining that I was walking through the mall recently and not finding people attractive. My therapist thought that I just need deeper connection to find attraction. I didn’t know about demisexuality at the time.
I’m actually excited at the idea of finding like minded people near me in the dating pool. Are they difficult to find? How do you broach the subject with friends and family without making people feel weird? Thanks for any feedback.

The title says it all, but just to kick things off, here are mine:
1 - I created a devious series of traps that were supposed to be really easy to find, but hard to disarm. It was four pressure plates in a dungeon hallway, each triggering a spell trap, ho hum. The tricky part was that the plates had runes scratched into them that detected anything passing over them, so you couldn't just jump over the plate or wedge it up. I had planned for my rogue and wizard to have to work together to disarm them, or barring that, figure out that they needed to put something over the runes to cover them up.
So what happened? My rogue found the pressure plates, reported that it looked like there were runes scratched onto them, and...my wizard decided to sprint down the hallway to see if he could outrun the traps. Set all four of them off, and the semi-random targeting mechanism that I had came up with rolled almost all of the damage against my DMNPC. Nearly killed me. For the next 2 games, whenever someone wanted to know if there were traps, they'd say "Hey Vondal, we need you to run down that hall."
2 - The reason that only went on for 2 games is because in tonight's game, I had a trap triggered by colored stones. The bandit leader had a note with "Yell Gren Blew Red" (he's not super literate, that's why he's a bandit). The next room had 7 baskets of stones in all the ROY G BIV colors. Our rogue found the note, correctly interpreted it, saw the baskets, recognized that the stones referred to the colors...and grabbed some of every color. Actually, she grabbed ALL the stones of every color, even though I explicitly said they weren't gems and weren't valuable. She figured the stones would be a repeating theme in the dungeon and thought she'd stock up.
The trigger was a statue in the next room that detected whether you had the correct colors of stones. No noise or other obvious way to tell it was doing it. Carrying no stones or the wrong stones would cause it to slam the door shut and activate suits of living armor. So the paladin walks in with the right stones, no problem. The wizard has the right stones, no problem. My DMNPC had the right stones because he followed what the majority was doing. And of course in this ONE room, the rogue explicitly says she's walking in last. SLAM Clank clank clank.
I like to 3D print my monsters, and I thought this trap was so obvious I didn't even bother printing the armors. I had to grab 4 random minis as the enemies.
So the punchline for the rest of the night was "I take all the stones."

Sixth Moon;
Silverhill alight with laughter; roaring with feasting; drinks passed by every table, and servants mixed through throngs of revelers base and noble; it was a lovely evening, with the sunset smiling through the windows and skylights. The castle was truly magnificent, the Great Hall am architectural wonder built and maintained by generations of luck and self serving silver.
To honor his guests, Loren displayed banners of Serrett, and all houses that had attended the feast. A motley of colors, yes; perhaps a bit gaudy; or a bit generous. Depending on who you asked. The Lorrd of Silverhill covered himself in fine silks; blends of sapphire in his cloak, with glitterings of silver too. Feather and twinkle rounded a blue doublet, that was accented with chocolate brown gloves.
Guests were escorted, and encouraged, about Silverhill’s halls to and invited to mingle through the castle’s many dining rooms; Silverhill’s lord was a notorious host, and spared no expense with feast. Each table, among dozens, was lined with fresh food and hot game: roast boar; fried venison, and a rabbit stew. Alongside such offerings was a massive menagerie of red and honeyed wine.
As the meal progressed, servants and attendants invited the revelers to wander about the gardens; or scour about in hideaways adorned in the whispering marble of Silverhill’s many statuettes; perhaps even to dance within the mazes of no end; anything and everything was permitted, if given the blessing of the moon and the stars. A simple way of saying; Loren ordered the sentries to keep their secrets.
Three string quartets played alongside a feather of flutes and harp, below a marble font amongst the hedging. The musicians from Loren’s wedding; a band of bards he had since housed in his court, for the entertainment of noble guests and privileged travelers alike.
The reflecting pool stayed silent too, as cherries wept. a statue, crying unto a fountain, tears slowly filling the pool below. To its opposite: a weirwood. With tears of red.
Loren smiled. He laughed. He drank wine; he wanted to remember, but would probably forget.

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I met him a little more than 6 months ago. Back then, we were just co-workers at our local pool and did not think much of each other. After we began texting on social media, I started to have a little crush on him. I did not take it seriously, I thought he was just for fun and that I would probably move on from him quickly. But, then, we proceeded to text almost every single day.
One night, we met up at a high school football game and everything changed there. Most of the people behind us on the bleachers were getting high on some drugs, and that made me really uncomfortable. He noticed that I was not used to this sort of environment (I do online school), so he suggested that we leave the bleachers and walk around the outside of the field together. As we walked together, side-by-side, I was beginning to feel safety in his presence, physically and emotionally. The way in which he talked to me in a gentle manner, and how he listened to everything I said with intent made me realize that he is different. It was after that night that I asked myself what love is. I thought that, maybe, I am not feeling love, but just a really really strong crush. How could I actually love someone at my young age?
Months passed and my feelings for him became more intense. He was always on my mind, I was constantly wondering what he was doing, I wanted to make sure that he is alright, not texting him for even one day felt unnatural, and I craved him to be near me at all times. The crazy part about all of this is that we never even kissed or did anything intimate like that. The most we ever did was hold hands.
I admire his independence and bravery, and this may sound silly but he reminds me of a prince. He treated me like his princess at all times. I have never thought these things about any other guy before.
The whole time we had been talking, he knew about my strict parents and how I could probably never tell them about him, but he never showed that he was hurt by that fact. He just told me multiple times that I am the most beautiful thing that ever came into his life, and that any time he gets to see me or be near me is "worth it". He had insisted on buying me gifts for Christmas and Valentine's Day (my birthday) even when I told him that his presence is enough for me. One time, I had bought food for myself and he gave me some of his money to make up for the price, and this shocked me. He has always been so good to me, even while he knew that I could not do as many things for him.
Some events have happened that are making it difficult for us to continue our relationship, and it is not because his behavior toward me changed or anything like that. It is because I cannot tell my parents about him - they do not have a good view of teen relationships at all. I had to end things because I know he deserves much better than what I can offer. He has never hurt me. In fact, he has fought with his parents many times because of how strongly he feels for me. He never gave up on me. When I told him we have to stop talking, he told me he will still love me with a full heart, which made me sob. I know I am a coward for not fighting for our relationship like he has done, but I cannot afford to lose my parents' trust. I had to end it because he is the most beautiful, pure-hearted, caring person I have ever met, and just the thought of hurting him with all my annoying complications makes me feel beyond guilty.
I always believed that loving someone meant that everything is happy and perfect and dreamy. But I think my perception was flawed.
I have never loved someone so strongly as I love him, but I had to let him go for his and my sake.

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Eighth Entry

Journal of Camille Lambert - April 14th

When the fires finally died, there was almost nothing left of Puriysk. Just about every building was scorched and blackened. Most of the tents had been destroyed too, with only a tattered handful remaining on the far side of town.

Driving through the ruins felt almost like driving through a corpse. Everything was so dead… and yet despite the recent fire, I could already see new life growing on the ashes. Small flowers with petals that seemed to shimmer like distant stars. They were both beautiful and unsettling at the same time, although I noticed Dr. Di Cesare… or Gretchen, I suppose… looking down at them with quiet apprehension as we passed.

“We should visit what remains of my lab first,” She said. “I had some equipment that should offer suitable protection against any airborne toxins. Atmospheric saturation should currently be low, but best practices recommend not to take any unnecessary risks!”
“Sister, we’re way past best practices right now,” Nina replied sardonically. “Exactly how often were you dealing with this shit if you’ve got ‘suitable protection’ just on hand?”
“Often enough,” Gretchen replied. “Not in some years though… decades, really. I keep it now as a precaution. When studying pocket realities, one can never be too prepared. The Rosen Prince exists in far more than you could possibly imagine.”

“And now you’ve gone and brought it here,” Nina replied.
“While I understand you disapprove of my course of action, I stand by that the choice I made last night was the one with the highest probability of a favorable outcome.”
“‘Favorable outcome.’” Nina repeated, before giving a sigh of exasperation. “Whatever you say. I figure that one way or the other, this is gonna end with one of us saying ‘I Told You So’ and I hope to God it’s you.”
“As do I…” Gretchen admitted.

We pulled up on what was left of Gretchen’s RV. The roof had been completely peeled off and the entire front end was smashed, but it seemed like the lab portion was still somewhat intact… somewhat.

Gretchen got out of the car, pausing to survey the state of her lab. For a moment I thought that she almost looked upset, but if she felt anything at all she buried it quickly and pushed ahead.
“We’ll be out here,” Nina said. “Don’t take too long.”
“I’ll help you look,” I said, getting out of the car as well and following Gretchen into the ruined RV. She was already going through some of the drawers when I joined her inside.

Despite everything, the lab part of the RV was almost in good condition. Almost. Papers had been strewn all over the floor and scattered everywhere among shards of broken glass. I heard something crack under my shoe and looked down to see a framed photograph on the floor. I reached down to pick it up. The photograph depicted a group of women, around 14 of them, I think. I recognized one in the corner as Gretchen. I wondered if this was her family.

I looked up at her, to see her pausing at one particular drawer, before taking out a series of respirator masks.
“Elastomeric respirators. Good for keeping out paint, dust, and spores. Small particles that can harm the lungs. I’ve found they reduce spore exposure by over 90%. Not foolproof, but helpful.”
She counted four out of the selection she had, before putting one on and handing the rest off to me. I set the photo down to take them and put one of the masks on myself. As I did, Gretchen took a bone handled knife out of her coat.

“I do have one further precaution that I use… where would you like to be scarred?”
“I’m sorry, what?” I asked, taking a step back. Gretchen tilted her head to the side slightly, before realizing that I didn’t understand whatever the hell she was talking about.

“As a precaution, I think it would be wise to mark a rune into your flesh. It won’t necessarily protect you against the Rosen Prince, but it will guarantee you die before it takes control of you… here, let me show you…”
She slid off her coat and gingerly hung it over a chair. I could see the revolver resting in a shoulder holster she wore underneath. She rolled up the sleeve of her shirt. Above the Aquarius tattoo on her wrist, I could see several runes scarred into her arm.

“Scarification is a deep form of magic. Not for the faint of heart, but deeply effective. This one here…” She pointed at one about halfway up her forearm. “It’s a curse. Were I ever to be infected by the Rosen Prince, it would drain my life away, killing me before I could be fully claimed by it. Personally, I think it’s the merciful alternative. Assimilation into the hive mind technically does not kill you, but it is not a fate I would wish on most. Everything you were, everything you are lost within an ocean of voices so that you no longer remain because you and It are now one and the same.”

“Are you going to do that to Nina and Dom too?” I asked warily.
“I already did Nina this morning. And I’ll offer it to Dominic before we depart. I can not force you to accept this… the spell does not work unless you do it yourself. However I do recommend it.”
I stared at the knife for a moment, before grimacing and rolling up my sleeve.
“Just show me what to do…” I said.

Gretchen nodded and beckoned me over to the chair. She knelt by my side and helped me guide the knife.
“It only needs to be a shallow wound. Enough to draw blood and leave a lasting mark,” She said. As the knife pierced my arm, I winced in pain.
“Very good! Now, let me guide you…” She placed a hand over mine. “Look at my rune. We’ll copy it exactly.”

I nodded before trying to do just that, gritting my teeth in pain and trying not to scream. Gretchen guided my hand, but I held the knife and I was the one who pushed it into my skin… it wasn’t the worst pain I’d ever felt. But it came very close and I didn’t last long before I had to stop, sucking in air as if that might numb the pain as I felt tears filling my eyes.
“How the hell do you do this to yourself?” I gasped.
“The rewards are worth the pain,” Gretchen replied. “See this?” She pointed to another rune on her arm, “It’s an elemental brand. It’s how I was able to control the fire, last night. And this…” She pointed to another one, “This one allows for limited spatial manipulation. It took me three tries to get it right. Each time I had to carve away the old skin and heal it to begin anew.”

I flinched at the thought of it and she cracked a small smile that I think was meant to be reassuring.
“Oh, I assure you that’s nothing,” She said brushing past her long stringy hair and leaning forward so I could see the back of her neck, exposing a far more complicated rune.

“This here? That’s an attribution spell. It’s one of the hardest to get right, but once you’ve done it, it keeps you safe.”
“Yeah… howso?” I asked.
“If someone were to pull a gun and shoot me now, I would feel no pain. The wound would manifest on their body instead. Given the fact that he was able to obtain the heart of an Old Fae, it’s possible that Calhoun bears a similar mark. Most powerful witches do. My sisters, for example. Long ago, we each learned this rune and one by one, we carved it into the backs of our necks as a means to ensure our survival. It’s useful… although not foolproof. Stab me, and I feel no pain. Throw me on to a knife and… well… ” She shrugged. “Of course, my little spell would do nothing to protect me from this…”

She took the revolver out of her holster and showed it to me.
“There’s no magic in existence that would save you from Malvian Ice. I modified this gun to amplify it’s properties. To ensure every shot was lethal. But the bullets?” She opened the cylinder and took one out. It looked almost like a regular bullet, although the tip seemed crystalline and had a pinkish shine to it.
“They don’t need the gun to be effective. Put this in the heart of Calhoun… and there is no magic, no God, nothing in existence that could offer him salvation. This bullet… this is Death herself. Absolute, inescapable, and final.”

She reached over and gently pressed the bullet into my hand.
“You should carry it. The other three bullets may be needed elsewhere. It would be wise to save one.”
“You’re the one with the gun, why don’t you take it?” I asked.
“At heart, I am a scientist not a fighter.” Gretchen said. “I can use this weapon, but as of right now I only carry it for safekeeping. I suspect Valentine may get more use out of it than I will. She would certainly be the better shot… although given her demeanor and what lies ahead of us, I do not want to risk the possibility that she might use all four of our remaining bullets before we reached Calhoun. Therefore… I entrust you with this.”

I looked down at the bullet in my hand, before giving a half nod,
“I’ll keep it close,” I promised.
“Excellent! Now… you’re halfway done. Shall we finish the rest?”
I looked down at the bleeding rune on my arm and nodded slowly. Gretchen showed me her rune again, and I pressed the knife back into my skin.

The cut was already throbbing with pain… and maybe that was why finishing the rune was easier than starting it was.
“Excellent work,” Gretchen said. “You may have a future as a witch someday… perhaps.” She stared down at the blood on my arm thoughtfully, before tearing her attention away.

“You’re a vampire, right?” I asked. “When’s the last time you…”
“Three hours prior to yesterdays incident,” She replied, standing up again. “Strictly speaking I only need to feed once every few days, once per week at minimum. Biting you will not be necessary… although I will admit, your blood does smell…nice. I personally prefer an older male specimen, maintained in reasonable health however just because one likes merlot doesn’t mean they can’t enjoy a good rosé. But I digress. You need your strength and I have other provisions to ensure I make do.”

She walked over to the far side of the lab and opened a cabinet, rifling around in it for a few minutes before taking out what looked like a wine bottle.
“A little side project some of my sisters entertain. Hardly a full meal… but the wine masks the taste of stale blood. I was saving it for a special occasion. But, it will suffice for now.” She pulled the cork and took a drink from the bottle, before going through the cabinet again and coming back with a white first aid kid.
“Let me wrap that wound for you, at least until the bleeding stops,” She said. I gingerly held out my arm and let her work. It didn’t take long.

Outside, I could hear the car horn honking impatiently. Gretchen ignored it, gently cleaning my wound.
“There we go…” She said gently, “All set. Bring the masks outside, I’ll join you momentarily.”

I nodded and got up to leave. Looking back, I noticed her standing over the photograph I’d picked up earlier. She stared down at it, before taking the picture out of the broken frame and slipping it into her pocket before finally taking her wine bottle and following me out.

***

The tents on the far side of town were still mostly intact, although seeing them abandoned still felt a little surreal. The shimmering flowers grew along the ground, and among them I could see creeping red weeds sprawling across the ground. Those weeds had even started to grow over some of the tents.

Nina regarded them with unease, before checking to ensure her mask was on right and going in to investigate. She held her rifle at the ready the whole while.
“Fuck… how the hell do you do this to yourself?” I heard Dom seethe from behind me and looked back to see Gretchen helping him scar himself.
“In time, you learn to accept the pain,” She said. “Now breathe. We’re nearly done.”

Dom looked up at me as Gretchen guided his hand. I went over to put a hand on his shoulder and stay with him through the pain.
“There… there… now we’re done,” Gretchen crooned. “Let me wrap that for you. You did well.”
“Christ…” Dom panted, “All this over some fucking flowers?”
“Those flowers have ended Universes and brought entire civilizations to their knees,” Gretchen warned. “There is no caution you cannot take with them.”

Dom looked over toward some of the glowing flowers. I noticed Nina was giving them a wide berth.
“If they’re that dangerous, why even summon them?” He asked.
“I had four bullets, and more than four approaching targets. Even the more offensive spells at my disposal would not have offered sufficient protection. We were in a dire situation. I needed something that would serve as both a formidable distraction and that could reverse our fortunes. I made a judgment call. The Pocket Reality I opened has been claimed by the Rosen Prince for some time. I’ve done some research there before and I imagine he’s been waiting for my return ever since. I suspected that the moment I gave him a door, he would come scampering… and he did not disappoint. His infection will spread rapidly, but so long as we use the correct precautions, we should be fine. I can not say the same for Calhoun’s local militia and his Nightwalkers, on the other hand. I doubt they are equipped to deal with him.”

“No shit, they aren’t…” Dom murmured, “I gotta ask, what exactly happens if this thing reaches Calhoun before we do?”
Gretchen frowned.
“Hard to say,” She admitted as she finished bandaging Dom’s scar. “I don’t have enough data to be certain. But…”

“But?” I asked.
“Last night, McClellan said something I found… interesting. He mentioned that there were other towns ‘ripe for the picking’ out there and then said something about Calhoun getting the rest of the 5000 souls he needed. I’ve been trying to figure out what he meant by that.”
“Did you come up with anything?” Dom asked.
“Unfortunately, I did,” She admitted. “I don’t suppose Nina has told you two where your Nightwalkers come from, did she?”
“Something about another pocket. She called it The Midnight Grove,” I said. Gretchen nodded.

“Correct. Now… the entity that controls the Midnight Grove, The Lugal. It is known for making deals. Offer it souls and it can be bargained with. And with 5000 souls… well, in theory, the rewards would be great.”
“In theory?” Dom asked.
“There’s a very good reason the wise don’t deal with the Lugal. Whatever he offers you shall inevitably corrupt you, until you are little more than just another of the shambling, mindless beasts who wander his domain. Personally, I’ve found that you can get a better deal elsewhere. But that’s neither here nor there. The future state of Calhoun’s soul is really not important to us. If he completes his deal, then killing him becomes significantly harder… and I have little doubt that he has the means to complete his deal.”

“How?” I asked.
“When Mr. Durand first reached out to me about joining this operation, there was some discussion on how Ben Calhoun was able to enter and leave this pocket reality. At the time, I’d theorized that he had established a permanent means of doing so. It would not be that difficult… the correct runes on certain doors would likely suffice and would permit him to come and go as he pleased. We theorized that he had set up such doors in other towns he may have been interested in. I had hoped we may be able to find one such door. I even went so far as to look for small towns in the United States that had similarities with the ones we already knew existed in this pocket, that just so happened to have a resident there by the name of Ben Calhoun.”

“And what did you find?” I asked.
“Hundreds in the United States alone,” She said. “Enough so that exploring my theory further was not an option… however considering what McClellan said about ‘other towns ripe for the picking’ however I can not help but wonder if my theory is correct. McClellan said that Calhoun needed 5000 souls. To that end, I’ve put together a rough estimate of how many more he might need based on the estimated body count from his… actions… in the other towns.”

I felt my stomach sink a little bit.
“Between Rankin Mills, Bakersfield, and Thompson Falls, I estimate casualties of 1500, 2000, and 500 respectively for a sum of 4000 give or take. Puriysk had approximately a thousand people living in it… had we not intervened, Calhoun would have had his 5000 souls. And if I’m right about him having doorways to other towns, then I think I know how he might try and make up the deficit.”
“So he’s going to try and bring another town into the pocket…” I said quietly, before the rest of the realization hit me. “And if the Rosen Prince takes Calhoun, it could use any of those doors to get out of here!”

Gretchen nodded.
“It may not even need to take Calhoun,” She said. “All it would need to do is make it to Parsons and fine a door. Those outside would have no means of identifying where it would show up, delaying their ability to form an effective response and at minimum, resulting in further loss of life.”
“Jesus Christ…” Dom said under his breath, “You knew this and you still let that thing out?”

“As I said, I made a judgment call,” Gretchen said. “If we get to Parsons first, we can eliminate Calhoun and render all of this null and void. Kill Calhoun, and there is no pocket reality. No pocket reality means no Rosen Prince and if I am correct about those doorways…”
“That’s how we get out,” I said. Again, she nodded.

“You can be upset with me for what I did last night… I agree, it was a reckless move and not one that I made lightly. But I traded certain death for a ticking clock and an effective distraction. I stand by that decision, whatever the consequences.”
Dom just sighed and shook his head.
“Well… like Nina said, I guess. This is gonna end with somebody saying ‘I told you so’ and we better fucking hope that it’s you.”
With that, he went off to follow Nina toward the tents.

We spent the better part of an hour going through what was left from the FRB’s supplies and even some of the things we did find weren’t exactly useable. One tent which had been used as something of a mess hall was completely overgrown with those glowing flowers, leaving any food in there practically inedible. Most of what we found that we could use was guns and ammo.

“Trust me, we’re gonna need this shit,” Nina said as she opened the combination padlocks to the gun lockers. She tossed them aside and pulled the locker open, sorting through the contents before finding something and handing it to me. It had the body of a pistol, but with a stock and a sight.
“Kel-Tec CP33. Should be good for you,” She said before reaching for something else. She admired it for a moment, before setting her current rifle aside.
“Holy shit… I knew they were bringing in some heavy shit, but God Damn!”

“What is it?” Dom asked, watching as she took out something that looked like a bigger, smoother version of the rifle she already had
“It’s an AA-12… I’ve never actually gotten to fire one of these before. Should be fun! Hey Dom, you want one too? They’ve got a few in here!”
“What’s it do?” He asked.
“It’s a full auto shotgun with 20 shell drum mag. Basically - it turns anyone you don’t like into ground beef. Should be useful against the Rosen Prince…” She got down, checking a lower shelf and taking out boxes of ammo.

“Let’s see… I heard Milo mention something about Dragons Breath rounds. He thought they’d be effective against the Nightwalkers. Lemme just… oh fuck yes!”
She held up a box of shotgun shells, grinning from ear to ear.

“Thank you, Milo! Gretchen, think you can help us curse these?”
“I should be able to,” She said, going over to take the box from Nina. She sorted through a few other boxes of bullets on the lower shelf, before sliding one over to me.

“Try these out,” She said. “Lemme know if you want something different. We’ve still got a lot out here.”
I nodded before picking up the box. I set it down on a table, took the magazine out of the gun Nina had given me, and loaded it up just the way she’d shown me before. Then I went outside to give it a test run.

As I stepped out, I looked over toward the ruins of Puriysk. I could see one charred building that had once been an apartment, now overgrown with red vines and glowing flowers that made the ruins twinkle in the most surreal way. In a sense, the building almost looked infected. The vines seemed more like cancerous growths than real plant life. Looking at it, I was reminded of the state that Bakersfield had been in… and I was reminded of the corpse of my mother, her eyes half open in death. The memory made my stomach turn.

I raised the gun up toward the distant building, knowing that if I shot at it I couldn’t kill what was ahead of me, but hoping it might make me feel better. I pulled the trigger, firing into the void.

“Hello?” A distant voice called, making me pause. “Hello, is someone there?”
“Hello?” I called back, lowering the gun and trying to follow the voice.
“Hello?!”
Up ahead, I could see a man stumbling past a few of the tents. Judging by his uniform, he’d been part of the FRB.

“Oh thank God…” He said, “Thank God I thought I was the only one left!”
“So did we!” I said. I noticed that the name on his uniform read - ‘Gideon’. I looked back toward the tent that Nina and the others were in.
“Are you hurt?” I asked, “We’ve got Dr. Di Cesare with us, I think I saw some spare masks in her lab too. We can get you one!”
“Masks?” Gideon asked, “Why? What’s going on here?”
“I’ll let Dr. Di Cesare explain, come on.”

I gestured for him to follow me into the tent. As I turned to go in, I saw Nina coming out.
“I’m hearing voices out here…” She said, before noticing Gideon. Gretchen came out behind her, eyes narrowing slightly.
“We’ve got another survivor,” I said and Nina looked over at Gideon with a raised eyebrow.
“Shit, really?” She asked, although didn’t sound particularly enthusiastic about it. She glanced over at Gretchen who was on top of Gideon almost immediately.

“Fascinating, how did you survive the night?” She asked, already poking and prodding at him. From the corner of my eye, I could see Dom coming out of the tent, holding the shotgun Nina had given him.
“I… I just stayed out of the fire!” Gideon said, “I let the monsters fight each other! I didn’t know what to do, I couldn’t get to the trucks before they left and then the radio went silent… what are you doing?”

Gretchen held him by the chin and leaned in to sniff at his neck.
“Did you know a vampire's sense of smell is over ten thousand times more accurate than a regular human's?” She asked, her voice as calm as ever. “It enables us to detect imperfections in the blood and avoid drinking anything that might be adverse to our health… and right now, I can smell the spores in yours.”

Gideon locked eyes with her, looking panicked for a moment before his lips slowly began to curl into a knowing rictus grin.
“You were always so astute, Gretchen…”

I saw his skull split apart suddenly, revealing rows upon rows of teeth inside. He tried to bite down on her head, but Gretchen seemed to be expecting that. I saw the ground beneath her shift, pulling her back a few feet.

Nina raised her shotgun and fired at Gideon before he could make another move. A column of sparks flashed out of her gun, setting Gideon’s body alight. He howled in pain and as he did I saw his body changing. The skin and flesh on his hands peeled back turning his fingers into claws. An inhuman screech escaped him as he lunged for Nina, only to be blown back by another flaming blast from her shotgun and sent crashing to the ground in a twitching, screaming pile of burning flesh.
Nina let out a shuddering, almost orgasmic sigh.
“I love you,” She said to the gun.

Almost as soon as the words left her mouth, a chorus of inhuman screams echoed through the air around us, seeming to come from everywhere at once.
“That doesn't sound good…” Dom said.
“Oh, it’s not. He makes that sound when he’s hungry,” Gretchen ‘assured’ us. “We should leave.”

She motioned with her hand, beckoning some of the fire off the burning remains of ‘Gideon’ and allowing them to form into a ball in her hand.
“But we’ve got supplies here!” Nina said, “We’re not getting through Parsons without them!”
“And he’s got the bodies from last night.”

Almost on cue, several shapes rounded one of the tents a few feet away. Gretchen casually let loose the ball of fire she’d taken, sending it flying toward one of the creatures racing toward us.
“Then we’ll just bring the car here, load up and leave!” Nina said. “Dom, keep them out of the tent, Cam, grab everything you can carry!”
“I have to state for the record that this is an ill advised-”
“Just shut up and help me get to the goddamn car!” Nina snapped, cutting Gretchen off before raising her gun to unleash hell upon the creatures that came for us.

I wasted no time running straight for the tent. Nina had opened a few of the lockers and had been going through the contents. She’d set aside the dragon's breath rounds, and I figured those were probably the ones she was looking to bring. She’d opened up a metal ammo box and had already been setting the shells inside. I didn’t really have the time to set them up in order the way she’d been doing, but I did have time to carelessly dump them in there like an idiot.

I could see the flashes from outside as Dom fired at some of the Rosen and judging by the sounds he made, I couldn’t tell if he was having fun, terrified for his life, or both.

I grabbed a second ammo box, hastily dumping the remaining shells in there. I didn’t count them and hoped to God that it would be enough, then I grabbed another box of the .22 ammo that my gun used, stuffed that in my pocket, and closed up the boxes. I figured it was as good enough.
“Let’s go!” I yelled to Dom, grabbing both boxes by the handles. They were heavier than they looked, but I did what I could to tough it out.

He fired a few more rounds at some of the passing Rosen, bathing them in sparks that caught their bodies alight and sent the ones near them scurrying away. From what I could see, no two were exactly the same. Some of the smaller ones, who looked as if they’d once been human either wore tattered FRB uniforms or the loose ensemble of the Sheriff’s Boys. Although most had discarded their clothes entirely, embracing the monster that now puppeteered them. Their heads opened like flowers, and some even had the same shimmering petals as the glowing flowers that dotted the ruins. Many had those same flowers blooming on their skin, only in their center were sickly yellow eyes. They loped about on all fours like wild dogs, howling and shrieking all the while, trying to escape the flames that bathed them but never quite giving up their single minded pursuit.

A few of them ran for me, although Dom dealt with those quickly, washing them in columns of fire with every pull of his trigger. Together we retreated back toward the car. In the chaos, it was hard to keep track of events. There were just so many… too many to count. I left the shooting to Dominic, my only focus was on staying out of his way and reaching the car.

I could see flames rising up into the sky a few feet away and knew that Gretchen and Nina were still fighting. We were getting closer to them. A fresh column of fire tore through one of the nearby tents, burning it away almost completely along with the Rosen who were unlucky enough to be caught in its path.

As we rounded that tent, I saw Nina hastily backing toward the SUV, unloading her last few rounds into the advancing crowd of Rosen and buying herself enough time to get inside.

Gretchen was doing the same, pulling the fire from the burning corpses and forming burning walls between her and the living. Behind the horde, I could see one twisted figure standing atop one of the tents, watching her with a single yellow eye.

“A RIPE NEW WORLD TO USHER IN TO SPRING EVERLASTING!” A voice howled through the chaos. I think it came from the thing that watched Gretchen. “How kind of you, Gretchen Di Cesare… an apology for your many insults? Or a failure. The newest of many?”

She didn’t humor the Rosen Prince with a response, or at least not a verbal one. A tendril of flames shot out of the wall she’d summoned, to engulf the thing that had spoken to her. Killing it, did nothing to stop the voice, which seemed to come from everywhere at once now.

“Shall you outrun me again, Child? Or do I at last claim you as my own?”
Gretchen just turned, and pulled open the car door, getting in as Nina keyed the engine. The wall of flames pivoted, cutting violently across the path before the car and burning anything there before quickly parting. Nina hit the gas and sped toward us, while Gretchen’s trail of fire followed.

I saw the Rosen shrink back as the car and the fire drew near. We took the opportunity while it was there. Dom pulled one of the doors open for me and I hefted the ammo boxes inside, looking back to watch him dive in behind me. We didn’t even get a chance to close the door before Nina was driving again. Gretchen rolled down the window and pulled the fires from behind us forward, launching them in front of the car to burn away the Rosen in our path. As she did, I could hear the demonic laughter of the Rosen Prince in the distance.
“RUN IF YOU MUST, DEAR CHILD! FOR I ALREADY AWAIT YOU!”

I looked out the back window to see that the Rosen had already given up chasing us. I wasn’t sure if that was a good sign or not. Judging by the look on Gretchen’s face, it wasn’t.
“We need to move, quickly,” She said. “Dominic, you can get us to Parsons, correct?”
“I think I should,” He said. “I’m sorry, did that thing just say it was already waiting for us, did it already get to Parsons?”

“I suppose we’ll find out shortly…” Gretchen admitted. “If so… we should still have time. The Rosen Prince shouldn’t have the biomass to launch a particularly large assault right now. He’ll need more bodies… but I still suggest we move, the clock is ticking.”

Nina pulled the car onto the road leading out of Puriysk, watching the rearview mirror anxiously as she did. The mists of the forest swallowed us up as we left Puriysk behind. All that remained now was ahead of us, at the end of the road.

/LonghornNation Daily Off Topic Free Talk Thread

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The Miz: Set to host WrestleMania 39
Wade Barrett: Smackdown Colour Commentator
Dean Ambrose: Signed to AEW; Three Time AEW World Champion; Member of the Black Pool Combat Club
Seth Rollins: Set to collide with Logan Paul at WrestleMania 39
Roman Reigns: Set to collide with Cody Rhodes at WrestleMania 39; Currently, Universal and WWE Champion in an historic 936+ day title reign
Big Show: Signed to AEW; Part-Time in-ring performer and colour commentator for AEW: Dark Elevation
Randy Orton: Still Part of Main Roster; Out of action due to injury
Sheamus: Set to collide with Drew Mcintyre and GUNTHER at WrestleMania 39
Mark Henry: Signed to AEW as commentatoanalyst, coach and talent scout
Ryback: Became a permanent meme
Daniel Bryan: Signed to AEW; Member of the Blackpool Combat Club
Kane: Mayor of Knox County; Inducted into Hall of Fame (2021)
Big E Langston: Still Part of Main Roster; Out of action due to injury
Dolph Ziggler: Still part of Main Roster
AJ Lee: Retired; Signed to WOW as a colour commentator and executive producer, screenwriter of Blade of the 47 Ronin and author of multiple works
Fandango: Signed to Impact Wrestling
Chris Jericho: Signed to AEW; Inaugural AEW World Champion; Leader of Jericho Appreciation Society
Alberto Del Rio: Signed to UFC as a colour commentator; Infamous for multiple criminal charges
Ricardo Rodriguez: Founded his own wrestling academy called 'Three Legacies Wrestling'
Jack Swagger: Signed to AEW; Member of the Jericho Appreciation Society
Zeb Colter: Hosts a podcast called Story Time with Dutch Mantell
Undertaker: Retired; Inducted into Hall of Fame (2022)
CM Punk: Signed to AEW; Two Time AEW World Champion; Currently stars in Heels; Status Unknown after the media scrum
Paul Heyman: Manager of the Stable Bloodline
Triple H: Chief Content Officer of WWE; Booker of Main Roster
Shawn Michaels: Senior Vice President of Talent Development Creative; Booker of NXT
Brock Lesnar: Set to collide with Omos at WrestleMania 39
John Cena: Set to collide with Austin Theory at WrestleMania 39, Stars in Peacemaker, Set to star in multiple projects notably Fast X
The Rock: Starred in Black Adam; Set to star in Red One

I recently stayed at the Mariott in Nashville when I accompanied my wife on her business trip. I was there for 8 days while she worked. I was on the Bonvy app and saw that as a (currently) gold elite member I was able to use their spa facilities (have in the spa areas and sauna for free.
It got me thinking, I live in downtown Providence Rai, and live a block or 2 from 3 Marriott properties. One of which has a nice pool area that you can purchase a season pass to as a local, and attend their pool parties (DJ, bottle service, wtc).
My question is...Is there anything I can get with my (soon to be ) platinum elite status at these properties near my home. For example, can I use their gym for free and not have to purchase a gym membershipCan i use their spa like mentioned above? Anything else I'm not thinking about?

Crypto name: Golden Inu
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“The gorgeous pageant has passed — the roar of battle has ceased — the multitude has sunk in the dust — the empire is extinct."
– Thomas Cole
Catalogue Description: Diary of Princess Elita sif Panya of the Lamfu Protectorate, Log 4 - English Translation
Date: 0-Pacpuf-436 (Panyan Royal Calendar) November 20th, 2162 (Gregorian Calendar)
Held by: The UK National Archives, Kew
Legal status: Public Record(s)
Apparently, there were thousands of frozen primate embryos aboard Erebus 2.
The disease, famine, and conquest which the Senghavi had inflicted upon the Terran civilization—whether intentional or not—had been devastating. Their “United Nations” had worried that humanity might fall below a minimum viable population. In equipping Erebus 2 with frozen embryos and Senghavi habitat fabrication technology, they had hoped to restart their civilization away from the prying eyes of the Crown.
It was true that, like the carnivores, the Senghavi were a species for whom the Gods had modelled an exponentially-increasing evolution of resources and energy. But even they would have trouble spotting a single, cloaked spacecraft amid the infinitude of space. Erebus 2 was meant to deliver humanity out of the darkness by ferrying its frozen offspring into the vast black of the cosmos—hence the mission name, an ancient Terran deity which personified darkness itself.
“This ‘Wormhole Empire Theory’ is… consistent with the theories of the secularists and sapientists within our scientific community,” my father replied. “You would call us an ‘Isolate,’ and the carnivores, an ‘Empire.’ I assume you did not want to… offend our religious sensibilities, so publicly over the video feed.”
“Well, you people seem to really like ‘the order of nature.’ But the moment that a species becomes advanced enough to punch through the fabric of space-time, then seize resources and planets at an exponential rate, seems a lot more like an unstable ‘equilibrium’ than a natural, stable one. I’m not sure if it’s compatible with what you… think of your Gods.”
“Do you have an understanding of how these wormholes are created?” my father asked. “You went through one to get here. Did you create it with stolen technology, or did you use one that had already been made?”
“The latter, Your Majesty. We believe a species becomes an Empire when it is able to use quantum entanglement and negative energy to puncture vast distances of space with wormholes. That sort of thing is… far beyond the capabilities of mankind, even before we were colonised.
“The physical details behind it aren’t really my area of study. I can tell you it involves fields of negative energy density, and I think they somehow use threads of quantum information stretched between quarks and antiquarks. There’s something in there about an electric field and a fourth dimension… You’ll have to ask Doctor Kuznetsov when we all meet up at the Red Citadel. He’s one of the most brilliant physicists our species has to offer.”
The semi-arid plains seemed to flow like a river as our police-escorted motorcade sped along the expressway. Electric aircraft crawled lazily through the opaque atmosphere, while colossal harvesters extracted aluminium and gallium-rich minerals near the Denfalli surface. Apparently, relative to Denfall, Earth had a less-dense planetary crust and a more heterogeneous distribution of metals. In order to access their own resources, the native Terrans had needed to resort to bombs and drills, forcing deep pits and shafts into their planet.
That was, if one believed that they had once had a complex society at all, as I did.
“Half of our thirty-one year journey was spent verifying the existence of, and searching for, a wormhole we theorised was orbiting Neptune—the eighth planet from our sun. We’d detected its gravitational effects and its distortion of light, and we thought that an error in the Senghavi’s cloaking technology must have exposed the structure’s throat. We had no idea where it led, but… we went through anyway. Thought had to be life on the other side. Maybe someone that could help us.”
The realisation hit me like a sudden noise, making me jump in my seat, and my heart flared in my chest. “You found a real-life wormhole in your solar system, and you went through without any idea of what was on the other side? That must have been terrifying! You could have ended up… in another galaxy, or at the edge of the universe, or something!”
Through his visor, I could see Doctor Moore’s face become sorrowful. Doctor Usman had the best grasp of Circpi, being the crew’s linguistic expert, but the other primates’ clumsier, more thickly-accented hold on our language was more interesting to listen to.
“That was not the hardest part,” said the dark-skinned biologist. “We were desperate. What made us more afraid... it was the situation of our species; the extinction of our culture and our sovereignty. And the distance away from our families... of my daughter. I want her to live in a better world, but it's not... easy, to be so far from my daughter, on a planet thousands of light-years away from Earth. It's not easy, being far away in space, when my daughter lives without her father for thirty-one years.
“When... We hear your conversations for the first time... Your communication that you have by neutrinos ... It was a sensation, an emotion, like no other. Finally, we had found extraterrestrial life! If I have to, I would travel a hundred times, again, through mysterious tunnels in space, just for this discovery. You are the greatest scientific discovery in the entire history of mankind.”
“Thirty-one years!” I exclaimed. “How long is your lifespan in the first place?”
“Most humans live to about seventy-two years on average,” Doctor Usman replied, suddenly seeming just as sullen as Doctor Moore. “Most of us left Earth in our early thirties. We’re over sixty now. Before our comms system failed, I kept in touch with the love of my life. Watched him age, as I did. My last message from him… I hold it close to my heart.”
The sheer isolation and loneliness of the Erebus 2 mission was difficult to wrap my mind around. Doctor Moore’s small, binocular eyes were moist and red. It seemed that crying was an emotional response in the primates, just like us!
I huddled next to Doctor Moore, putting my plastic-bound paw on his glove. I didn’t know what else I should do to comfort an extraterrestrial, so I resorted to physical affection, as is the habit of us Lamfu. To my surprise, the primate rubbed me behind the ears. Despite the barrier of polypropylene against synthetic fibres, his firm touch sent a tingly sensation down my skull and spine, and I leaned into it.
Through natural selection, us Lamfu evolved tall, sensitive ears to detect predators lurking in the wilderness, so that we might be more likely to survive and pass on our genes. Thus, we had a lot of nerve endings in those regions. Perhaps human fingers could stimulate them in a way our paws could not? It was all the more reason to sway our desperate extraterrestrial friends away from the far more impressive Imperium!
“We’d never be able to take on such a task,” the King said solemnly. “I can’t imagine many would. The carnivores and mantids must not be entirely right about you. We thought that, due to being palaeolithic hunter-gatherers, your species would have been barbaric and violent. But your lack of technology and connection with your primal nature has clearly made you more humble and honourable than us supposedly ‘civilised’ folk! You are, in a sense, noble savages!”
I knew he meant it as a complement, but it only seemed to anger Doctor Usman.
“We’re not… nevermind!” she snapped, blinking tears from her eyes. “We’ll talk about that part later. Now, the Senghavi have been mentioning this ‘Imperium of Orion’ since their boots first touched Terran soil. We theorised that this civilisation was another instance of an Empire—one potentially competing with the Senghavi. They take tribute from your planet, an Isolate, without sharing any of their science or technology with you.
“When we heard about the Prey-for-Protection system, we thought it was cruel… but your species doesn’t seem to have a problem with it, and we figured we couldn’t assume that human morality applied to extraterrestrials. Do you think the carnivores could help us?”
My father froze. Even our driver looked uncomfortable.
“N-No, no. It’s best to avoid them. Well—they help us, yes. They are vessels of the Gods. But… Well, you do not fit nicely into the faith of Krucuv Mishan. You violate the order of nature merely by attempting to resist being civilised by the Senghavi. Orion is no more likely to aid you than Parimth.”
I almost wanted to say “you are much safer with us,” but I stopped myself. If the primates caught onto our selfishness, they might forsake us. We all feared they would, in the unlikely but nerve-wracking event that, come the day of tribute, the Imperium would want these newcomers to join their interstellar empire.
“The way that Empires brainwash Isolates,” Doctor Usman sighed, shaking her head. “It’s disgusting. You’re probably half-right, Your Majesty. I bet the Imperium wouldn’t want anything to do with a puny Isolate like humankind—and we are under the control of their rival, anyway. But you’re wrong if you think resisting an imperialist is against the ‘order of nature.’ You’re letting your own inferiority complex cloud your view of us. Don’t tell anyone I said this…. but the Imperium of Orion and the Parimthian Empire can go fuck themselves.”
Such vulgarity in the presence of the King! But I could feel the tension in the air relax. We’d swayed at least part of the crew of Erebus 2, at least for now.
Still, the other five primates were still aboard their spacecraft, zipping around in Denfall’s orbit at [27,000 kilometres per hour]. How we were to prevent them from falling into the fold of our carnivorous protectors, it was far less certain.
At last, we neared our destination. The Red Citadel is where my father crafts his royal decrees, consults with his justices and knights to enforce them, and holds royal courts to settle the disputes and pleas of nobles.
The lords of Parliament meet in Denfall Castle, which isn't far from the Red Citadel. Though they are vassals of the King, they've carefully manoeuvred over the years to force this “King’s Code” on my family. Nowadays, my father needs their consent to levy extraordinary taxes, and they can compel him to redress the grievances of other nobles.
The Red Citadel loomed in the distance as we approached in our luxury groundcar. Doctor Moore gave my paw a gentle squeeze in the glove of his environment suit. Through his visor, I could see his mouth falling open at the sight of the mighty Citadel. As of the time that I am writing this, I cannot think of a more memorable structure. It is protected on all sides with mighty walls of clay-red sandstone, ivy creeping along their sides, battlements lining their tops. And today, behind those battlements, snipers were posted to ensure the safety of our new diplomats.
Natural selection and evolution had pushed us herbivore Lamfu to run and hop away in fright from predatory threats, so that we might be more likely to survive and pass on our genes. That trait has forced us to become excellent at the art of the defensive fortification, from which we can snipe our enemies from afar! A rebellious noble attempting to lay siege to the Red Citadel wouldn't last a day.
Peeking above the walls are the spires and buttresses of the royal manor. Overlooking the manor is the abbey, its pinnacles reaching much further beyond the crenellated walls and towers. The abbey is decorated with stained glass windows and minarets, which overlook the glittering lakes and fruit orchards.
Like the surrounding walls, the abbey, manor, and other buildings are also built of red sandstone. In contrast, Denfall Castle, where the lords of Parliament invariably congress with one another, is beige like its namesake: this planet of ours itself, arid or semi-arid all over. Smaller than the Red Citadel, Denfall Castle is more of a singular fortification than a protected complex.
My tail and ears lifted with gentle happiness as I thought of the old Abbot Eli. He administers the affairs of the abbey—a monastery centred on the faith of Krucuv Mishan. One of the fondest memories from my childhood was Abbot Eli showing me the huge tapestry of Fenya the Brave, which hung in the great south hall of the abbey.
The legendary Lamfu woven into the tapestry was depicted with a sniper rifle slung over her shoulder, unfurling a scroll in her hands in order to reveal divine scripture. Before her was a horde of ignorant canids, serpents, and vulpines, not realising that a meagre herbivore was going to enlighten them as to the order of nature.
I could still feel Abbot Eli’s comforting paw on my shoulder as he described the legend, his aged voice echoing in my mind. In the face of certain death, Fenya the Brave wasn’t fearless—but in her passion to solve our overpopulation and the suffering it entailed, she had stood up against her fear.
The great iron portcullis of the Red Citadel was raised to permit entry of our luxury motorcade. My father was already talking excitedly about grand feasts and festivities. As my family and I disembarked, we escorted four Terrans through the courtyard: Doctor Usman, Doctor Moore, Doctor Kuznetsov, and Miss Malone.
“We’ve got plenty of plants and meats for you to enjoy!” my father declared. Sprinklers washed over the manicured grass, a subtle reminder of our semi-arid homeworld’s limited vegetation and water supply. “You are an omnivorous species, correct?”
For a moment, it didn’t look like anyone was going to reply, as every Terran was struggling to process my father’s offer. Finally, Doctor Moore broke the silence.
“That is correct. We can eat many things, but… I'm going to have to examine some food you bring to determine what we can eat.”
“You sure, Moore?” Doctor Usman asked, raising an eyebrow. It must have been a courtesy to us that she spoke in Circpi to her fellow Terran. “Shouldn’t we wait a lot longer? I mean, this is the first truly alien ecosystem known to mankind. We’ve only been here a day.”
“We were in orbit for many months. I am done having fear. And they are not kind towards us? I am confident with the science and examination I can do to determine what we can eat. At a minimum, one person has to… examine what happens when they eat the food, correct?”
I was certain Brother Mopsi—the old, plump chef of the Cavern Hallow below the great red abbey—had outdone himself. During the moon-periods since we’d learned it was likely that the primates could ingest our food, he and his Kitchen fellows had toiled relentlessly. In preparation for the feast my father had wanted, they had undoubtedly prepared enough wines, seafood, and pastries to feed the entire Red Citadel for [~1 week].
“Forgive me,” Princess Ilyafi chimed in as we approached the abbey’s sculpted bronze doors. “You all seem… dazed? Or is it just the grandeur of the Red Citadel? Are you in shock?”
“Yes, I think,” Miss Malone said, rubbing her comparatively dainty shoulders. (Apparently, she was a skilled pilot and aerospace engineer). “All this is very… fast.”
“You are omnivores, so I’m guessing you evolved as both prey and predator. We evolved as just prey, and we’re quite familiar with the cardiovascular effects of fright and anxiety. Sustained stress can lead to hypovolemic shock and heart failure. Are you sure you are okay?”
“We are very, of course okay,” Doctor Kuznetsov assured us. The pale-faced physicist chuckled faintly, brushing a bit of dust from his visor. “Us humans are stronger than that. But Erebus 2 went through space for thirty-one years. Half of that was a voyage to the entrance of a wormhole near the edge of our solar system. We searched for the life that the Senghavi do not reveal to us. I had a… mate, and a… litter of children. I leave and they are alone, without me.
“And then… we heard patterns in the neutrino detectors. Something that must be man-made. Alien-made. After, the months in orbit go fast. And now we are here. We did not yet remove our suits. Yet, we are walking into a big castle, and you already offer this big feast. It is just like a dream. I almost think I simply hallucinate in Erebus 2, in some far place in the Milky Way, light-years far from any alien life.”
Another pang of sympathy sank into my heart. To witness the fall of their species, and then to be separated from their kits and their mates by thousands of light-years, must have pained the primates beyond my imagination.
Right as we reached the abbey’s entrance, a distant rush of air and the tapering purr of anti-grav generators resonated through the atmosphere.
My heart dropped with the weight of an anvil. Us Lamfu rose to crouch on our hind legs with upright posture, our ears high in the air for alertness, while the Terrans just looked blankly at the sky. A dark and massive shape swept down through Denfall’s opaque cloud cover.
The Imperium of Orion is here.
As we watched dumbly from the courtyard, their ship dropped [100 kilometres] in a mere [60 seconds]. In contrast, the landing shuttle of Erebus 2 had taken [~25 minutes] to go from the boundary of the atmosphere all the way to its landing strip.
We soon could not see the ship beyond the battlements of the Red Citadel, but my father ordered the portcullis open in order to let our carnivorous protectors in. Doctor Moore’s eyebrows were pressed together, the Terran’s lipped mouth having gone somewhat limp.
The fright which this arrival inflicted upon me nearly put me into hypovolemic shock. I say such a thing for two reasons.
For one thing, it was unprecedented that the carnivores entered Denfall directly like this. They only took such an action on very special occasions. Usually, we sent the tribute to them by flying the victims of Prey-for-Protection out to their space stations ourselves.
And for the other, even when they did enter Denfall, I’d never actually seen one in person. Well, except for my glimpse of the Kursef diplomat, that frightful night as a child.
Yet here I was, watching a delegation of two more extraterrestrial species and one Denfalli species march into the courtyard. They had disregarded personal protection gear entirely. With such great exposure to the universe and such advanced technology, they were confident enough not to care about alien diseases.
Beyond the opened portcullis, the ship perched upon the sands outside the Red Citadel was a fortress of black stone, fringed with defensive bastions, its gun turrets peering through battlements. A dark bird of prey, into whose predatory talons I would soon be swept into.
“Jesus Christ,” Doctor Moore murmured, so quiet as to verge on inaudible. He absently dropped his bag of scientific instruments, seeming completely awestruck. “Usman, what are we looking at?”
“Empire,” Doctor Usman replied, her voice glassy.
“And three more confirmed extraterrestrial species,” Doctor Kuznetsov added. “And… our crew!”
Among the delegation of soldiers and dignitaries were two species I had previously not seen more than once: the serpentine Kursef and five more primate Terrans. There were also two species I’d never seen in person at all: the hulking, canid Warcs and the delicate, vulpine Pondwir.
“Hawthorne!” Doctor Usman yelled, her voice carrying across the courtyard. “What… What is this?”
One of the five primates within the delegation broke away from them, jogging towards our primates. He cut a curious figure in the grass, a slender biped in a moss-green EVA suit. He, too, was crying behind his visor. His eyes were red with tears. My gut felt a madness in those eyes.
The UN logo that was supposed to be on his shoulder looked like it had been painted over with the fang-on-star insignia of the Imperium of Orion.
“It is the culmination of these thirty-one years,” Hawthorne said to Doctor Usman, his voice breaking with emotion. He, too, spoke Circpi instead of English, but it was likely out of pressure from the carnivores, and not as a courtesy to us. “God has given it to us. We have braved the trials of space, and He has rewarded us. There really is another Empire, and it has taken our side!”
“What?” Doctor Usman asked. She glanced at my father, who shuffled uneasily. “What you’ve encountered is incredible, Hawthorne. What are these species?”
Hawthorne gestured at the delegation of soldier-protected dignitaries. “The Warcs are intelligent canid-like mammals. They evolved on this planet, adapting to hunt these Lamfu as their staple food source. It was by coevolution of predator and prey adaptations that both Warcs and Lamfu developed sapient intelligence.
“Then, there are the Kursef. They are serpent-like reptiles who swallow their prey whole—just like Earth snakes. It’s a remarkable example of convergent evolution! They are the ones who founded this Imperium.”
Imperium. The word seemed to stab Doctor Usman in the stomach. She looked at my father again, her eyes as hard as rock.
“I thought… you said they wouldn’t aid us?” she asked.
But my father, the King of us Lamfu, was silent in his shame.
“Then, the Pondwir,” Doctor Hawthorne went on. I assumed he should bear the title Doctor; the humans considered such a word to be a title, and he seemed to know as much about biology as Doctor Moore. “They are vulpine-like mammals who were nearly hunted to extinction by the colonisers. By the Senghavi. Their hides were coveted for the softness of their fur.”
“Hunting sapient beings?” Doctor Usman huffed. ”The Senghavi just keep getting better and better.”
As the rest of the delegation caught up, my ears perked up with that sort of stress and anxiety which is amplified through millions of years of coevolution at the near-bottom of the food web.
I did not mind the Pondwir, and might in fact have felt fascinated by them. They were far shorter and daintier than primates, despite their ecological role as carnivores.
The limbless, emotionless Kursef gave me chills, though that fright was more likely rooted in my childhood sighting of a Kursef than anything else. Indeed, they were animals who fed on prey, but they were too different from mammalian life to have imbued an innate fear within me. That my fear of them was somewhat of a learned, paranormal one, rather than a rational one, was comforting, in a way.
But the Warcs… Just as my anxiety was one swollen through millions of years’ worth of drawing adaptations from random mutations in a nightmarish evolutionary arms race, so, too, were their hunting adaptations. In muscle and body mass, the canid Warcs surpassed the primates threefold. The fright they caused me was neither learned nor fantastical. It was primal, an unshakeable decree by the state of nature; a feeling as natural as hunger, thirst, mating, or self-preservation.
The Warcs and us Lamfu are what we are because of each other.
The blind watchmaker selected for us our sensitive ears and wide eyesight to detect the Warcs. The Warcs evolved razor-sharp smell and keen vision to track us down. We passed on genes for powerful, digitigrade hind legs to flee them. They evolved an athletic, durable body to pursue us. Those of us with camouflage to hide for our lives were then the ones to survive and reproduce. Yet the Warcs, too, evolved camouflage to hunt so they would not starve. We rose above our animalism into a sense of reason in order to better protect ourselves. They evolved their own sense of reason, so that they might create tools to hunt and live.
In that sense, we and the Warcs owe our lives to one another. It is basic primary-school knowledge that both species attempted coexistence for millennia. Both sides did their best, truly. And both sides screwed up. The Red Citadel is built in the very metropolis that once shone as the crowning jewel of coexistence, partnership, and peace between predator and prey.
Yet, in the end, we proved we were all merely animals. The Warcs’ exodus from Denfall, into the dark infinity of space, is among the most significant and complex chapters in Denfalli history.
Perhaps the primates were lucky, in that they did not share a homeworld with the Senghavi. Their civilization had suffered a fatal devastation, indeed, but they had the privilege of a black-and-white world.
After all, I could only imagine the confused moral state in which the humans would find themselves, had they suddenly needed to grapple with the idea that the Senghavi had originated from Earth.
I huddled closer to Doctor Moore, instinctively reaching to grab his tail for support—only to remember the primates had lost their tails millions of years ago. In an action I construed as protectiveness, he positioned himself in front of me.
“A single Pondwir hide was worth the equivalent of trillions of euros,” Doctor Hawthorne said solemnly. “When the Pondwir tried to resist their slaughter at the hands of the colonisers, their homeworld was glassed by the Parimthian Crown. But the Kursef and Warcs lifted them from the ashes. Together, they are the Imperium of Orion—and we can join, too!”
Doctor Usman looked uneasily at the towering Warc ambassador, shaking in her environment suit. She lifted a hand to gesture to the opaque sky. “S-slow down! If you’re all here, then who the hell is operating Erebus 2?”
“Erebus 2 is meaningless now. Don’t you see? We are talking about a civilisation that produces [400 trillion terawatt-hours] of energy in one hour. Their ships number in the hundreds of thousands, just like the Senghavi. Their reach spans thousands of light-years. We’re saved, Usman. All of us.”
Flanked by soldiers, the colossal Warc ambassador took a menacing step forward. My father might have perished of heart failure right then and there. The Warc’s dark fur accentuated his gleaming yellow eyes. “My Princess is as beautiful as always, Your… Majesty. Indeed, her devourment will so glorify the order of nature, she alone will earn Paradise for thousands of your people!”
“My” Princess? As always? I shouldn’t have been surprised that the Warcs knew so much more about us than we knew about them, but the focus on me by a creature I’d never seen made me squirm in my personal protection suit.
“Yes, yes; it seems as such,” the Kursef diplomat hissed, its side-facing eyes like orbs of cold-blooded glass. “What a glorious day it has been! We are not only treated to royal flesh and bone, but we have finally seen a proper introduction to these fascinating primates.”
My father struggled to find his voice. “Y-You were not… Supposed to arrive, until… W-Why are you here so soon?”
“The human tribes of Earth may be snivelling, pagan things so far,” the Warc announced heartily, “but the Senghavi missed out on something big. Something big indeed! This species is full of fire, Your Majesty. We didn’t realise how brightly they burned with potential.”
At this point, all members of the Royal Security Service had scampered away. In my tense nerves, I had forgotten that they were even here. My siblings remained, however, and Ilyafi spoke up. She had always been the bravest of us.
“We will remember my sister as more than a sacrifice,” she said defiantly. “We will celebrate her devourment as the holy will of Nisma and Unatl, but we will celebrate her life and her memory in kind.”
“Hawthorne,” Doctor Usman said steadily. “These creatures constitute an Empire. They don’t care for Isolates. We are Astronaut-Ambassadors who represent the UN. They practise expansionism, conquest, and murder on a galactic scale. The values of the Charter of the United Nations are incompatible with such a civilisation.”
Doctor Hawthorne’s gaze hardened. “We travelled for thirty-one years for the salvation of all mankind. I watched my children grow up from light-years away—and for what, if not this? This is a gift from God, Usman. The Senghavi were merely His wrath upon a godless, decadent humanity. This is His forgiveness. This is His Grace.”
“If you want to bring faith into this, Hawthorne… Doctor Moore considers himself ‘saved,’ just like you. But he will back me.”
The remaining crew members of Erebus 2 stood securely among the delegation of carnivores. As Doctor Usman and Doctor Hawthorne stared each other down, I found myself hugging the leg of Doctor Moore’s environment suit.
Now, I truly understood my species’ galacto-political selfishness. Doctor Moore wouldn’t leave me for the Imperium… Would he?
“And what of the embryos, Hawthorne? We can’t take any risks, and we know next to nothing about extraterrestrial society and psychology. I am the commander of Erebus 2, and I won’t allow their seizure at the hands of these… these imperialists!”
“We cannot make a… rash choice,” Doctor Moore added, his emotions only highlighting his poor proficiency in Circpi. “Seeing the… way, the character of the Imperium is easy, just through seeing their actions and their manners. We cannot… insult their evils, if we do those evils to… other Isolates. And Usman is right. We are still the UN.”
“Half, then,” Doctor Hawthorne breathed. “You might still fancy yourselves as UN employees, but we don’t. The number of embryos is intentionally redundant. You take 10,000. We’ll take the other half. Just—please—don’t try to stop us.”
Then, to everyone’s shock, Doctor Hawthorne drew steady, confident hands towards the neckline of his helmet. He manipulated its various clips and devices with those dexterous primate fingers the humans had. His grey-irised eyes were closed as he undid the final latches, and the helmet jerked upward slightly, jets of oxygen puffing out from the neckline.
At that moment, those grey-irised eyes snapped open, their gaze suddenly bleeding with fear. His legs and gloved fingers were trembling, devoid of the bravery that seemed to have once been coursing through his veins just seconds ago. He looked uneasily at his crewmates while lifting the helmet, its various lights and indicators blinking out as the wires were disconnected from the suit.
He took a deep, sighing breath, letting our planet’s warm, dry air pour into his respiratory system. His eyes never left his crewmates, who still seemed on-edge, despite the ease with which he breathed.
“Okay, Hawthorne,” Doctor Usman replied softly. “Half. Let’s start there. And let’s talk about this in the abbey.”
“If it is your wish to bless the unblessed sands of this simpering pit that is Denfall with 10,000 more of you,” the Kursef ambassador purred, “that is your call. But as our vulpine companions can attest, the galaxy is an undulating, unruly tide. It can be hard to predict the steady future into which the Gods have offered for you to settle.
“Your rightful place, humanity, is at the top. But don’t consider it a fate unto which you will tend regardless of where you start. Only our Imperium can provide you with the proper conditions such that you can endure your hardship with faith in your deliverance. Such is the order of nature.”
“Krucuv Mishan,” Doctor Kuznetsov murmured. As he was a physicist, I wasn’t surprised he could recognize the maths-infused patterns of our religious faith within the Kursef’s spiel. “You used it to have dominance over the Lamfu. Now, you want to have dominance over us, too.”
“Don’t shirk this opportunity, primates,” the Pondwir ambassador said softly. “My people understand your quiet rage.”
Everyone looked at the Pondwir, even my family and I. He seemed full of sympathy. Only a little taller than us, it was the first time the short little creature had spoken since the delegation entered the courtyard of the Red Citadel.
The Warc diplomat froze me in his gaze. Hunger—both as the physiological adaptation of an apex predator, and as the lust for dominance over others that exists in all sapient beings—burned with the heat of molten gold in his yellow eyes. “We have someone to take before you go through those doors… Doctor Moore. The beauteous and maidenly Princess Elita is mine, not yours!”
Defiant, my primate companion stood between the Warc and I, while my father whimpered.
“Look towards this, Hawthorne,” Doctor Moore cried. “We are part of the UN. We promote rights of humans. This is not rights of humans! This is not life or liberty, or the idea that God creates all equal! This is a second-class citizen and murder that the law allows!”
“‘Equality,’ ‘liberty,’ ‘sapient rights,’ and ‘sapientism’ are mere colonialist ideals imposed upon your species by the decadent Senghavi colonists,” the Kursef ambassador hissed. “You already know they manipulated and perverted your history. Don’t bend your knee to your oppressors.”
The manicured grass left my polyethylene boots as Doctor Moore lifted me from the ground, backing away from the massive Warc. The Warc snarled, hackles raising.
A hairless mammal with hardly any natural weapons at all was stealing the prey—me—of a carnivore that had evolved specifically to kill and feast upon organisms like us. The tears in my eyes blurred my surroundings.
Doctor Moore didn’t stand a chance—and given the chilling words of these diplomats from the Imperium of Orion, neither, I thought, did Doctor Usman’s side of Erebus 2.

Crypto name: Golden Inu
official subreddit: GoldenInuToken [1,100+ members]
Crypto token symbol: $GOLDEN
Crypto blockchain: BNB-Chain (formerly Binance Smart Chain )
Who owns it? DAO token; community owned
Where to buy? PancakeSwap [read here]
How To buy: Must allow 7% slippage to purchase;
Token price: US$0.000000000007450
Current Market Cap: US$375,000
Website: http://www.GoldenInuToken.org
What sites have talked about Golden Inu? [ search Google for ‘Golden Inu Token’]

CryptoCoinOpps.com
CryptoNews.com
Crypto-News-Flash.com
CryptoMode.com
Benzinga
FXCryptoNews
MarketWatch
London Post
SuperCryptoNews
CoinStats

Reasons to Buy Now:

$Golden Token has actually Utility as long as their are users of Ecosystem;
Golden Quest Job platform has near 1000 users earning $Golden Tokens
$Golden Dashboard Will Release Before April 15th -- Game Changer!
- This app will open the door to a crypto eCommerce platform that’s inspired by the simplicity of amazon. Will be developed as Golden Inu ecosystem users actually complete transactions. As the news gets out about this, the price of the token will rise.
Low market cap; No way this stays under US$2,000,000
With the launch of a 2nd application certified to happen in less than 1 month since launch, the Token value has outperformed 90% of the crypto market the last 30 days. Verify this on Dex-Screener [click here]; After the $Golden Dashboard launches, all live data will be read on GoldenDashboard.com

TECHNOLOGY ! TECHNOLOGY! TECHNOLOGY! Real products, this is the #1 reason. Take a read through most of the tokens listed. How many actually get 2 apps released in 30 days? How many actually produce an app?
The team of developers behind this and many bag holders have faith in outdoing Shiba Inu. It may be a long shot but if it happens, $100 you could have put into the token but instead was put into a pair of shoes or a nice dinner this week -- will leave you with regret by the end of 2023.
Let’s Prosper together with this community token. Check the official website and visit the discord. See the “QuestN’ collaboration “Golden Quest,’ to review how many people are working to bring this project to serious levels of prosperity.

The power is with the people on this one and the developers/founder are actually credible. The information is verifiable through PancakeSwap, Dex-Screener, and more.
If you have tokens of Dogecoin, Shiba Inu, Floki Inu, Baby Doge, Baby Shiba Inu, Shikoku, DogeCash [ the privacy is cool of this i admit], ShibArmy, or any other of the meme tokens developing utility are a better bet. . .. Here’s where you’re wrong.
Check Liquidty Pool vs Marketcap . Golden Inu Token has a taxation/gas fee formula that pulls 3% of the 7% taxed back to liquidity. This means, the Liquidty Pool is always growing and will eventually provide a $1 to $1 backing against Market Cap.
If none of your coins have a Liquidity pool that’s at least 1/4th of the Market cap, it means the risk of a crash leading to you losing all of your investment is THAT MUCH HIGHER.
Most of these tokens have $1 liquid cash (fiat) per $50-$80 market cap [tokens sold/in circulation]. The blindness is astounding.
$Doge $9.9B market cap —vs— $289.2M liquid
$SHIB $6.2B market cap —vs— $146.4M liquid
$Floki $319,646,096 market cap —vs— $278,460 liquid
$ShiBarmy $159,968 market cap —vs— $Unlisted liquid
List goes on.
“Inu” in the name does not mean anything in terms of ROI. I’m up 400% to date. Buy $10 today and thank me later.
Research yourself too! When the Golden Dashboard launches, you will have all the information you need at a click! But you may also be missing the gains you could have gotten by listening now.

This question has always been on my mind and with how the Rogue has been shown in One dnd i can tell the problem will continue. Why is it that some martial classes miss out on fighting styles while some don't?

Mechanically sure fighting styles can be pretty potent (archery in mind) but definitely nowhere near warranting a limited selection of classes to have access to them. ESPECIALLY martials. Martials SHOULD have fighting styles. They are the classes that use WEAPONS so of course it would only make sense narratively as well that they'd have some preferences and excel at those.

If your argument is not to give other classes fighting styles because it'll take away value from the fighters own fighting style id heavily disagree. Fighters would still obviously keep the largest pool of fighting style options but also fighters aren't the only class with those options. Paladins and rangers, both half casters mind you, also get access to fighting styles while also possessing the insane utility of spells and extra attack. Yet a Rogue cant pick up archery or a Barb great weapon fighting? Just doesn't make sense, both narratively and mechanically.

My recommendation of class fighting styles
Rogues - Archery, Blind fighting, Defense, Dueling, Superior Technique, Thrown weapon fighting, and two weapon fighting
Barbarian - Archery, Blind Fighting, Dueling, Great Weapon Fighting, Superior Technique, Two Weapon Fighting and Unarmed Fighting
Monks - Archery, Blind Fighting, Dueling, Interception, Superior Technique, Thrown Weapon Fighting, Two Weapon Fighting

Again, there's literally no reason to NOT give these classes fighting styles as Paladins have access to Fighting styles and is also a much stronger class then any of those listed. The only issue that would be relevant or id care for would be Fighters being overshined but no one plays fighter for the fighting styles. Fighter is played for 8 attacks per round and its highest customizability with 7 asis/feats and proficiency in everything.

While were on the topic of fighting styles though, i definitely feel fighting styles should be given an extra oomph. Its a really cool concept to have a advanced mastery over a certain weapon but it being reduced to only numerical benefits is pretty lackluster. An example i have would be something along the lines of...

Archery - You gain a +2 bonus to attack rolls you make with ranged weapons. In addition, you may make opportunity attacks with ranged weapons.

Two Weapon Fighting - When you engage in two-weapon fighting, you can add your ability modifier to the damage of the second attack. In addition, whenever a creature misses a melee attack against you while you have a weapon in each hand, you may make a melee attack against them as a reaction if they are within range.

ETC. Make these options feel like they matter and feel like actual features instead of just (Oh i guess ill just pick up archery again)

And thats not limited to just weapon usage! Like some of the UA options you could also make fighting styles for actual fighting styles.
Maybe one meant for 1v1s while another is meant for 1v2+. One meant for people who use stealth. Some meant for specific armor you're wearing whilst one depends on wearing no armor at all!
Fighting Styles is a great concept but heavily underutilized and ineffective.

Reddit Account: TkaHard
Discord Tag: (include #'s)Tka#0101
Name and House: Leona Vyrwel
Age: 72
Cultural Group: Reach
Appearance: Leona bares many scars, a testament of her late husbands unruly temper. She has long white hair, part of the left hand side remains bald due to the loss of her scalp. Her eyes are bright blue near white.
Trait: Mastermind
Skill(s): Covert, Espionage(e), Schemer, Cutthroat(e)
Talent(s): Baking, Cooking, Raising Sons.
Negative Trait(s): Maimed, Elderly
Starting Title(s): Lady of Darkdell
Starting Location: Darkdell
Alternate Characters: N/A
Leona was born to a distant branch of the Tyrells of Highgarden, her Father serving as a humble Kennelmaster to the Lord Paxter Tyrell their cousin. Before she was coddled, the decision of her eventual marriage to the son of the Wyvern was established. The Vyrwels were not a wealthy house, nor politically powerful, but what they lacked in social status they made up for with their notoriety on the field of battle. The Wyvern was no equal to the Dragon, but it surely prevailed over much of the terrestrial plane and the men of House Vyrwel ensured that reputation with aggressive pride.
Leona’s early childhood consisted of nothing more than servitude to the ruling Tyrells, her Mother worked in the Kitchen and her Father with the hounds. But all be that so, Leona was given her education by the Septas alongside her kin. Often mocked for her lack of luxuries by her relatives, Leona had an extremely big heart and albeit for the mocking gestures she never felt as poor as the world saw her to be.
Leona was a brilliant mind, she picked up everything presented to her in her studies and was acknowledged for the fact. She once overheard a man of House Tyrell complain to her Father about “Wasting such a well bred girl on Vyrwel mongrels' but her Father had none of that, and assured the man that the Vyrwels were honoured for their reasons.
When she came into her teen years, this would be the first chance Leona would have to meet her husband to be. Dashing and handsome on the back of a gelding, with gray shining armor with red trim, Dickon Vyrwel was straight from the tales of Knights she had read. Their first encounter was nothing more than soft spoken words in the company of their Fathers. And no sooner did he arrive, Dickon left. On his steed to the fields of battle to fight in the conflict that would one day be remembered as the Red Dorne.
The two remained in contact, Leona wrote letters to Dickon, sweet words of longing and encouragement, each letter bathed in the perfume that she had chosen. Dickon promised that on his return that he would call on Leona at her earliest convenience, and so while the realm seemed to burn, their love for one another matched its heat.
At the end of the Red Dorne, Dickon would stay true to his promise and would arrive in Highgarden the following moon. Dickon and Leona walked the garden for hours, speaking of the many places Dickon had been. The people he had met, the ferocious dragons he had seen with his own two eyes. Leona was taken away in the stories, and felt at this point that this man seemed to be the Knight that would carry her away to the tales she was fond of.
On her eighteenth nameday, Leona was taken to Darkdell, accompanied by her Father and Mother and some members of House Tyrell. A feast was held in honour of the joining of the two houses, knights from across the Reach rode out to participate in the festivities. As was expected, Dickon Vyrwel triumphed at the tourney and crowned his bride to be the Queen of Love and Beauty on the eve of their wedding.
The throws of love that followed brought about the arrival of their first son, a young healthy boy that they named Lewys in honor of Dickon’s Father. He was a healthy child with a strong pair of lungs that made his cries known even from the palisades. The pair were happy, and remained close.
But after the birth of their second child, Florian. A shift occurred. Dickon no longer wished to touch his wife. His heart had hardened and every murmur of complaint his wife had, Dickon replied with nothing more than a frustrated grunt. Unsure of what she had done wrong, Leona confronted her husband but such rebellion was only met with the back of Dickon’s hand. This would only be the beginning of the many instances of physical abuse that Leona would suffer. Each becoming worse than the last.
On a trip back to Highgarden, Leona was unable to hide the battle scars that covered her face. An Inquiry was made by her Father on the treatment of his daughter. When confronted, Dickon gripped the hilt of his blade, and reminded him that Leona was no longer his Daughter but Dickon’s wife, and in being so was his property to do as he pleased with. Leona’s Father was no knight, he was nothing but a Kennelmaster, bound by duty and blood and so his inquiries quickly ended.
Leona felt betrayed, her parents attempts at comfort were in vain. Their claims of things would improve fell on deaf ears, Leona had suffered years with the persecution, no day was better than the last, the volatile nature of the assaults only grew in severity with every new dawn. So, Leona left. Never to see her parents again.
When they arrived back in Darkdell, Dickon was thrown into a rage. He accused Leona of plotting against him, and so as he always did, Dickon lashed out violently. He hit her so hard, he broke her arm. When she begged for mercy, claiming her arm had been broken. Dickon refused, claiming her to be a Mummer and continued to beat her. Due to her wailing, Dickon ordered her to be taken to the dungeon and told to be left there until she stopped crying. This lasted near a moon.
When she finally was released, the Maester unfortunately could do nothing to aid her arm. It had been broken and had healed awkwardly, causing her right arm to be rendered useless. When Dickon was informed he did as he always did and simply grunted, caring not for the ailment he had bestowed upon the woman he had vowed to love and protect in the eyes of the Seven.
Soon after, Leona would discover she was pregnant with their third child. Leona believed this to be a gift from the Mother, a means to find compassion from her husband once more. She went to her husbands study to deliver the good news, but his reaction was not one which she expected. He lashed out, accusing her of adultery, and began to attack her as he often did. But this time, the strike were directed at her belly which housed this “cursed offspring” he prattled about. After he was done, he left her in a pool of blood on the floor of her study before leaving to go drink at the tavern.
The Maester, who was a kind man. Could no longer sit idly by, he approached Leona, and helped her to her feet and informed her that her Husband could not be saved it was a kindness to see him pass in his sleep. The Maester gave her herbs, sufficient to cause a fatal ailment and so the pair plotted the death of Dickon Vyrwel, to ensure his volient lashes ended with her.
After Dickon returned from drinking, he demanded to be fed. The Maester and Leona worked on his meal, infusing it with the noxious herbs. After Dickon finished eating he retired to his study. In the morning the servants would find Dickon, curled in a ball of his own vomit. He was not dead, but he was no longer able. A severe stroke had struck him and caused him to be a prisoner inside his own body. Leona, the girl who had once had a large heart had grown cold and spiteful. Her Husband had been granted one wee mercy by the Seven, a chance to watch his sons grow, but only watch.
The remaining early years of theirr sons were spent in the tender care of their Mother, while Leona had grown bitter at the world, her sons were the only thing she held dear and due to her own paranoia, Leona began using her own servants as eyes and ears to ensure that no plots were hatched to influence or harm her boys. Given her husbands condition, it naturally fell on the shoulders of his heir to take his place in court business, but for a boy as sweet as he, Leona could not allow it. Leona appointed Dickon’s cousin as the regent in her Husbands name. Billy was like Leona, humble born with noble name. He was illiterate, gentle and kind, these attributes Leona envied, but she saw him as easily influenced.
Billy Vyrwel, while the regent harked every command from Leona, her word was the only thing he would listen to. Under his “Leadership” the Men of Darkdell began truly training in the art of war. Every boy during the harvest seasons was left to toil with their family, but during the harsher seasons they were brought to Darkdell to undergo training. Leona was determined to build Darkdell in a way that they would not need the aid of anyone but themselves, an island in a sea of turmoil.
When Lewys came of age, he did not wish to inherit his role as Lord straight away but rather venture off and enjoy his youth as a tourney knight like his Grandfather's brother Ser Robert “the White Wyvern '' had in his youth. Many of the notable people at Darkdell detested such a concept believing it was time for him to take up his mantle but Leona did not agree, she gave her son permission to venture off across Westeros but on his twentieth name day he was to return and take up a wife of her choosing.
Lewys returned later the following year a grown man, he spent the night with his younger brothers telling them of his many exploits in the Riverlands, the tourneys he listed in the lords he met and the many pretty girls who called it come. But as was promised, his Mother pulled him aside and informed him that his betrothed would be arriving by the next moon.
The wedding would be the first time that the ailing Lord Dickon would show his face since his accident, many whispered that he was a corpse of his former self. Such gossip did not matter to Leona, but the fact that such people would suppose that she did not her was satisfactory. Forever the sideliner, listening for the slightest pitter patter of rats feet.
The decades to come would be uneventful, the Vyrwels began to grow more and more reclusive, dependent only on themselves. But as the Reach grumbles, which direction the Wyvern chooses to fly could tip the scales.
128 A.C - Leona is born.
133 A.C - Leona begin her education.
140 A.C - Leona's eventual marriage to the son of Lord Vyrwel is established.
144 A.C - Leona meets Dickon Vyrwel, her husband-to-be, for the first time.
145 A.C - Dickon leaves to fight in Dorne
146 - 150 A.C - Leona and Dickon exchange letters while he is away at war.
151 A.C - The Dance of Dragons ends, and Dickon returns to Highgarden. Leona and Dickon walk the garden for hours, and their love deepens.
152 A.C - Leona is taken to Darkdell, and she and Dickon are married. Their first son, Lewys, is born.
154 A.C - Leona and Dickon have their second child, Florian, and Dickon begins to physically abuse Leona. Leona’s Father is unable to help her.
156 A.C - Leona, is expecting their third child. Dickon suffers a stroke and loses all his mobility and cognitive capabilities.
157 A.C - Paxter Vyrwel, the third son of Leona and Dickon is born.
158 A.C - Due to Dickon’s condition not improving, Billy Vyrwel, his cousin, is named regent of Darkdell.
170 A.C - Lewys comes of age, but rather than become Lord he wishes to become a Knight, his Mother is able to convince the nobility to allow it but on his return he would take up a wife of her choosing.
172 A.C - Lewys returns and is wed not long after.
173 - 200 A.C - House Vyrwel have remained isolated, not wishing to involve themselves with the happenings of the realm.
Family Tree
Household
Billy Vyrwel - Archetype - Castellan. Lewys Vyrwel - Archetype - General Florian Vyrwel - Archetype - Warrior. (that’s all for now)

Please comment any titles you're interested in down in the comments, just to make keeping track for other folks easier. Then I’ll DM for PayPal info
Flat $5 for shipping/handling, unless you want more than $40 worth of stuff, then shipping/handling is free (on me).
Disagree with a price? Tell me what you think it’s worth. I’m flexible on a lot of stuff.
US only, please. International shipping is expensive and gets tricky, and I don’t feel like dealing with customs stuff. Please dib in comments first, then we’ll do DM so I can send you an invoice. I’m in NJ right near philly.
Not really looking for any trades. My keeper library pretty much has everything I want. Unless you have a copy of Comet Gain’s Casino Classics, Kent's Isola, Hot Cakes by The Darkness, a copy of the bootleg record of And All That Could Have Been - Still by Nine Inch Nails, or the 20th anniversary edition of Suede's Coming Up (with the B-sides bonus record) you’d want to trade. These are pretty much the only albums on my want list.
Happy to provide any pics if you like. Just ask.
I also have a bunch of unusual band shirts and a couple T-shirts that had been cut down to become back patches that I’m selling. (Bands like Mono, Battles, Graveyard, and more traditional stuff like Metallica). As this is a sub for records, I won’t list them individually as part of the post, but if you want a list and prices, comment or dm me for that. If it's okay by the mods, I'll list them in a comment.
Antony And The Johnsons. Cut The World. $12
Atlanta Rhythm Section - A Rock And Roll Alternative. Free with any order.
Baroness. First and Second. Olive green vinyl. Never played. Only open because it came with the shrink split to see color. $25
Baroness. Live At Maida Vale BBC. Clear with black splatter and gold screenprint on side b. Played once or twice. $25
Baroness. Yellow and Green. this versionBought new. Played a handful of times. Hardcover book cover has mild corner dings that were there when it arrived in the mail to me. $70
Beach Boys. Made In USA (comprehensive compilation). $10
Beach Boys. American Summer. $3
Beach Boys. Endless Summer. $8
Take all three Beach Boys for $18
Beatles white album. this versionGot for Xmas one year. Played once or twice. $45
The Beatles. Abbey Road. Old pressing. Apple label. $20
The Beatles. Let It Be. Old pressing. Apple Label. Corner cut (overstock). $15
Black Oak Arkansas. Raunch N Roll Live. $4
Black Tusk. Passage Through Purgatory. Blue vinyl. Ltd to 350. Never played. Opened to check color. $25
Boomtown Rats. Tonic For The Troops. Shrink and hype stickers intact. $2
Jackson Browne. The Pretender. $5
Jackson Browne. Hold Out. $4
Take both Jackson Browne joints for $10
John Carpenter Lost Themes III this version Sealed. $45
Castlevania III soundtrack. this version. Sealed. $65
Patsy Cline. Country Great! $5
Crosby Nash. Live. $5
Daedelus. Invention. $30. I’ll throw in the “Something Bells” ep with this for free if you want it.
Deep Purple. Burn. $5
Deodato 2. $11
Neil Diamond lot: “Gold: Live at the troubadour”, “Touching You Touching Me” “Hot August Night”. $12
The Dirty Cut. Self-titled. Philly band who sound like they learned all the right lessons from Nirvana. Sealed. $10
Doobie Brothers. Minute By Minute. $5
Earthless. Rhythms From A Cosmic Sky. OG pressing on black. $45
Earthless. Sonic Prayer Jam 10”. Black. $25
Earthling - Dark Path. $9
Egon. Curse Of The Evil Badger. $8
Gil Evans/Gary Evans. Dedication Series Vol IX The Great Arrangers. $11. (Promo Cut out)
Dan Fogelberg. Captured Angel. $6
Dan Fogelberg. Nether Lands. $6
Take both Fogelberg joints for $10
Steve Forbert. Jackrabbit Slim. $3
Gates Of Slumber - Hymns Of Blood And Thunder - Transparent grey vinyl - $30
Marvin Gaye & Tammi Terrell. Greatest Hits. $10
Philip Glass. The Photographer. Shrink still intact. $7
Goatsnake. 1/Dog Days. Black vinyl version. $25
Grand Funk Railroad. Phoenix. $4
Gwar - Scumdogs Of The Universe (30th anniversary version. red smoky vinyl) $26
Nate Hall. A Great River. [this version](https://www.discogs.com/release/4524121-Nate-Hall-A-Great-River](https://www.discogs.com/release/4524121-Nate-Hall-A-Great-River)). New/never played. Dude from US Christmas. Heavy Neil Young "Le Noise" feels. $14
Isaac Hayes. Live at the Sahara Tahoe. 2LP. $5
Heart. Self-titled. $6
History Of British Rock. 2lp comp of solid British rock. $15
Holly Hunt. Prometheus. Green vinyl. $15
Ian Hunter. Self titled. $6
Ian Hunter. You’re Never Alone With A Schizophrenic. $6
Take both Ian Hunter joints for $11
Jefferson Starship. Dragon Fly. $6
Jefferson Starship. Earth. $6
Take both JeffStar joints for $11
Kansas. Song For America. $5
Kendrick Lamar. Mr Morale and the Big Steppers. Standard black vinyl. Sealed. $30
John Lennon. Mind Games. $5
Manfred Mann’s Earth Band. The Roaring Silence. $5
Mono. Gone - A Collection Of EPs 2000-2007. Black vinyl. $22
Mono. Holy Ground: NYC Live. Black vinyl with unplayed DVD. I bought this new, but I can’t remember if I ever played it. $35
Mono. For My Parents. $15
The Moody Blues. Octave. $3
Willie Nelson. Without A Song. $3
Neurosis. Sovereign. Clear repress. Sealed. $50
Neurosis. Fires Within Fires. Sealed. $35.
New Riders Of The Purple Sage. The Adventures of Panama Red. $3
Thee Oh Sees. Drop. First pressing. $15
Ol’ Dirty Bastard. Return To The 36 Chambers (The Dirty Version). OG promo record, with the songs out of proper album order. Jacket is rough. Records are beautiful and play/sound amazing. Pics $55
Mike Oldfield. Hergest Ridge. $5
Ozzy Osbourne. Patient Number 9. Walmart color variant. Sealed. $27
Prefuse 73. Surrounded By Silence. $12
Queens Of The Stone Age. Villains. Sealed. $30
Quannum Spectrum compilation. (Blackalicious, DJ Shadow, El-P, etc) this guy. Bought at a Blackalicious concert in 2000. Played a couple times. Shrink still intact. $50
The Rolling Stones. Metamorphosis. True OG. Cover is a little rough. $12
Salem’s Lot score this version sealed. $90
Boz Scaggs. Silk Degrees. $4
Seals & Crofts. Diamond Girl. $3
Simon and Garfunkel. Bookends. Looks like a true OG pressing, but the record is rough. 3
Springsteen On Broadway 4LP sealed. $50
Bruce Springsteen. Nebraska. Cover looks so so. Record is immaculate. $17
Steely Dan. Pretzel Logic. $21
Survive. HD015. this version. Open, but shrink and hype sticker intact. Played once or twice. $17
Survive. RR7349 (black vinyl. Never played. has “Stranger Things” hype sticker on the bag). $17
Avey Tare (from Animal Collective). Down There. Shrink intact. $12
Three Dog Night. Golden Biscuits. Free with any order.
Robin Trower. Long Misty Days. $5
William Tyler. Behold The Spirit. $6
US Christmas. Bad Heart Bull. Two Sealed copies avail. Could be any of three awesome colorways. $35 each copy.
US Christmas. Eat The Low Dogs. Black vinyl. New/never played. Number 126/400. Awesome psychedelic/space rock. For fans of Hawkwind. $66
US Christmas. Run Thick In The Night. Sealed, clear vinyl pressing, limited to 100 copies. $100.
Edgar Winter Group. They Only Come Out At Night. $5
Witchcraft. Legend. [this version](https://www.discogs.com/release/3963340-Witchcraft-Legend](https://www.discogs.com/release/3963340-Witchcraft-Legend)). $66
Gary Wright. The Dream Weaver. $5
Neil Young. A Letter Home. Sealed. $23

Pool hall near ne

2023 Lord of the Rings Read-Along Week 13 - The Ring Goes South (Book II, Chapter III)

HAPPY TOLKIEN READING DAY!!!! (March 25)

/LonghornNation Daily Off Topic Free Talk Thread

Today: 3/26/2023

Current Austin Weather: 60° and Clouds

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Your go-to place to talk about whatever you want. From the dumb shit aggies do on a near daily basis, to the latest whatever happening wherever. What ya got?

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Humans are Weird – Climbing the Walls

Humans are Weird – Working Through It