If you do nothing else, PLEASE read the 'Instructions' section before continuing on to the mod lists!

New users run the risk of having content spoiled for them otherwise, and all users need to read the special installation instructions listed here to install the mod builds properly!

Objective & Structure of the Mod Builds
If you've always wanted to mod KOTOR 1 or 2 but have been hesitant--which mods are good, which are compatible?--this resource is here to help.
For over a decade I've worked with the mod community, collating and managing modular packages of compatible mods which I refer to as "mod builds." The goal behind these builds is to find the best KOTOR mods and present them as a fully-compatible & modular archive, allowing users to pick-and-choose the mods they want from a large, vanilla-friendly selection with minimum hassle and no fears of incompatibility. That said, I have never skimped on quality in return for quantity; all mods listed in this thread are lore-friendly, and no mod which significantly alters or interrupts the vanilla experience has been considered for inclusion. The goal for these mod builds is an improvement of the vanilla experience rather than the creation of a new experience.
The builds for both games are divided into Full builds and Spoiler-Free builds. These spoiler-free builds contain mods with censored readmes, to prevent the player from accidentally being spoiled, so even if you are a brand-new player you can still enjoy bugfixes, updated graphics, and most of the full build's added content free of any risk. Most, because the spoiler-free builds also lack mods which have the potential to alter the game's balance from what BioWare/Obsidian intended, to ensure that your first playthrough is the most pure vanilla-plus experience possible.
There are also builds for both games designed to work on mobile devices, containing all the content of their Full or Spoiler-Free counterparts, but without any extremely large or graphically intensive content which could cause issues while running on mobile. This allows users to experience bugfixes, mechanics improvements, added content and some small-scale graphical improvements without risk of your device catching fire.
Each build is modular in nature, meaning that most mods aren't reliant upon one another to function. Because of this, you can choose to either use everything I list, or to pick and choose what you prefer for a personalized experience. You are also, of course, welcome to add additional mods on top of these builds, and although I cannot guarantee their compatibility I would be happy to work with any user to maximize their chances of creating a compatible build.

Why Use These Guides?
If the above has sold you, then by all means, please continue down to the Instructions section. But I understand why it might not have; after all, a premise is all fine and well, but does it deliver?
If you want some additional convincing, I invite you to take a look at this quick list of bullet-points about what the mod builds offer, and why those offerings are unique.

Instructions
In the section below are eight links. Simply choose the game, content package, and platform you'd like and you're set!
As for actually installing these mods, there are a few simple rules to follow:

• Create a deadlystream and nexusmods account. Deadlystream--our main host for KOTOR mods--has a download speed limit for users without an account (which is free). The Nexus has an actual file size limit without an account, so you'll need a Nexus account to download some files.
  
• Install the mods in the order you are presented with them. If you fail to do this, you risk running into bugs, many quite significant. Note that you'll still encounter some warnings on installer mods even when doing this, but those warnings are normal (errors, however, are not). If you want to add new mods which aren't included in these lists to a build, you should reach out to me so we can work together to create an installation order which is stable for you.
  
• Don't attempt to continue an old save after installing these mods. Unless they're just texture files which do not contain files of the .2da filetype, once your game is modded any previous saves you have should be treated as incompatible.
  
• If you are intending to use any content not included in the mod builds, search for and identify that content BEFORE installing the builds! Certain mods have install steps or overwrite requirements that will necessitate you installing them midway through the mod build install, so if you want to use content outside the builds, you should identify that content before you start your install.
  
• Do not use the Nexus's Vortex Mod Manager with either build, or the Steam Workshop alongside the KOTOR 2 mod build! Don't even use a Workshop version of one of the mods present in the KOTOR 2 builds! Both systems have trouble properly functioning with KOTOR mods; you can read more about why this is for the Workshop here.
  
• Be mindful of what mods work with non-English versions of the game. If you are not playing in English, only some mods will be compatible with your game version. Each mod lists whether it is compatible with non-English versions or not, and you will need to either play in English or skip several mods. There's nothing that we can do about this; most mods which modify dialogue only support English. Please also bear in mind that you need to select the language you intend to play in before installing these mods, and CANNOT change your chosen language after you have completed your install (doing so will overwrite many of the mod files downloaded here).
  
• Keep an eye on mod categories and tiers to get an idea of what a mod does and how important I believe it is to use that mod. This is especially important for users of the Spoiler-Free builds, where information will sometimes necessarily be very vague, but it's also helpful for users who don't intend to use the entirety of one of the Full builds. Each mod has a category and a tier, the former of which clarifies the types of changes the mod makes, and the latter of which, on a scale of 1-4, clarifies how important I believe the mod is for getting the best possible experience out of the game. Using this information, you can better judge what mods you would like to use and what you can safely ignore in the course of your build installation.
  
• If you are not installing on a Windows OS, keep this card in mind, as it goes over the various install types present in the builds and will help you determine what mods will be easy to install on your OS, and which might need special support (for instance, using a wrapper to install .exe files on Mac OS).
  
• Follow installation instructions, mine when I provide special instructions and the mod creator's when I have no word to put in. Most of these mods are extremely easy to install, but it's very important to make sure that none of the special install instructions are missed for the sake of mod compatibility.
  
• Keep track of master mods. Some mods require other mods to function, and thus the "master" mod cannot be removed if you want that mod in your build. In the build posts I will list when a mod has a master.
  
• Overwrite any files when prompted. Most of the mods in these builds are fully compatible, but some partially overwrites a part of another mod. These cases are where the install order matters; I have purposefully tailored the installation order so that mods that have compatibility issues are overwritten in the proper order for the game to function as intended, and for all of the changes we're making to be seamless.
  
• New users: be careful with readme files and descriptions! Even for mods that I've censored, there might still be minor spoilers in the readme, and this goes doubly for mods that have included screenshots or file descriptions on their hosting site. When reading about a mod, it's always an excellent rule of thumb to only read so much of the description--and view as few of the screenshots--as are necessary to make sure you know whether you want to use it or not, then the installation instructions (and nothing else).
  

Mod Builds
PC/Mac
KOTOR 1 Spoiler-Free Build
KOTOR 1 Full Build

KOTOR 2 Spoiler-Free Build
KOTOR 2 Full Build

Android/iOS
KOTOR 1 Spoiler-Free Mobile Build
KOTOR 1 Full Mobile Build

KOTOR 2 Spoiler-Free Mobile Build
KOTOR 2 Full Mobile Build

FAQ
It's highly recommended that you read the Builds' FAQ if you have any questions about the current implementation of the Builds, problems with the Builds, or a desire to include mods of your own outside of those available in the Builds!

Changelog
NOTE: Only major changes are reflected in changelogs. The builds undergo constant iterating and compatibility work, but large batches of mods are only added during Revision-level updates.

12/25/2022:

1. Merry Christmas! A new piece of restored content by JC, an alternate ending for DS characters who romance Carth, has been integrated!

12/9/2022:

1. Several dozen new mods across both games.
   
2. Several mods for KOTOR which also work for KOTOR 2 have now been integrated into the KOTOR 2 build list, to make the games more visually consistent across builds and improve overall graphical fidelity.
   
3. Added information on all mods indicating how they are installed (loose-file, TSLPatcher, etc.) and whether or not they are compatible with non-English game versions. De facto, this now makes the builds compatible with non-English game versions, although for the moment, out of necessity, several mods must be skipped when not playing in English.
   
4. Conversion of all .tga-based upscale mods to .tpc, saving several GBs of download size and space on disk.
   
5. Thanks to further collaboration with ShiningRed, tightened up the AI upscale mods to remove the last problem textures, and integrated most of the Nar Shaddaa upscale, which was previously excluded.
   

4/13/2022:
After the most implausible series of delays and problems I've ever encountered, finally, the new build release is out! Highlights follow:

1. Fully supported mobile builds!
   
2. Complete and fully-tested AI upscales of almost all areas and characters for both games!
   
3. Dynamic lightsaber lighting & reflections for both games in all game areas.
   
4. The inclusion of LDR's amazing A Crashed Ship on an Unknown World mod for KOTOR, in my opinion the best piece of added content ever made for these games, hands-down.
   

Changelogs older than 4/13/2022 can be found here!

Special Thanks
Principle thanks to Jcarter426, longtime collaborator and co-author of the mod builds. Without his assistance maintaining and improving guides of this size would not be possible, and a massive debt is owed to him both by myself and the community more broadly.
A very special thanks to my testers! Although I do all the playthrough testing myself these days, the testers of the old builds helped us get to the point we've arrived at today, and as I don't own the games on mobile my mobile testers are critical to every future mobile release!
Special thanks also to all of the modders whose work I've been using over the years, and an especial thanks to DarthParametric, Fair Strides, Deltm, A Future Pilot, and Nomuit, who have at various times all been indispensable helping me with testing, bugfixing, and rebuilding mods to support build compatibility!
Thanks to mattekillert for mocking up the original category and tier images for me, and Amanda from the Discord for updating them for me.

This summer, I decided to get my DNA sequenced by 23andme. I wanted to know my ancestry, as well as find out if I'm a carrier for any genetic disorders, since my husband and I want to try and get pregnant soon.
When the results came back, everything was what I expected. I was Romanian and German. I had the sun-sneeze reflex. Etc. The surprise came when I clicked on the "Relatives" tab. At the top of the list, it showed my parents.
Except, there weren't two parents.
There were three.
John T.
Father, 50.0% DNA shared
Agnes T.
Mother, 50.0% DNA shared
G
Mother, 50.0% DNA shared
I stared at the last one. Uh… what? I scrolled up and down the list, but the rest looked normal. One of my brothers came up, along with an aunt and some cousins.
Curious, I clicked on G's profile. But there wasn't any other information. To see details, like her ancestry or shared relatives, I'd need to 'connect' with her.
Probably just a glitch or something. Or maybe my mom made two accounts by accident. I closed my laptop and tried to forget about it.
But for the rest of the day, it bothered me. Like a little itch in the back of my brain. Maybe it isn't a duplicate account or a total glitch. Maybe she's some secret aunt or something, and 23andme just overestimated the shared DNA. I'd read the horror stories, of 23andme uncovering family secrets like that.
So that evening, I decided to hit "Connect." I didn't really expect her to accept.
But just a few days later, she did.
I went over to the 23andme website, my heart pounding. When I scrolled down, I saw my ancestry composition and G’s, side-by-side. Her ancestry looked like my mom’s—almost 100% Romanian. But… it was slightly different.
My heart pounded faster. I opened three tabs: my mom’s ancestry, my dad’s, G’s, and mine. My eyes darted between them, comparing them. Studying them. And after several minutes, I realized it.
I was 1% Scandinavian. But neither my mother nor my father had any Scandinavian ancestry.
Only “G” did.
A chill went down my spine. I stared at G’s profile. At her empty profile picture.
Who is she?
***
I told my husband all about it. He thought I was overreacting. “It’s just some glitch,” he said, as he flipped the chicken on the stove. “23andme must’ve sequenced the DNA wrong, or mixed up the samples, or something.”
“It’s creepy though, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, I guess.” He opened the cabinet, rummaging around for plates. “But there’s just so much room for error with that DNA stuff.”
I tried not to think about it. But my night was plagued with nightmares of G—a faceless woman, calling from the forest. Who had my long dark hair and tall stature. A second mother who, somehow, had given me her DNA.
When I woke up, though, I realized something. If I shared 50% of my DNA with my father, and my mother, and G—well, 50% + 50% + 50% did not equal 100%.
One of my parents had to share DNA with G.
I called my mom on the way to work. “Did you see anyone listed in your DNA relatives named ‘G’?” I asked, as I pulled onto the highway.
“G?” she repeated.
“Yeah. There’s just… a person named G who keeps popping up on my DNA relatives.”
“I don’t think so,” she replied. “But I don’t know. The website is kind of hard to use. Brandon was helping me with it.”
“Could you ask—”
“Yeah, sure. Gotta go now, though.”
With that being a dead end, I decided to bite the bullet and send G a message. Most likely, it’d be some big misunderstanding. G was probably some stranger living on the other end of the country with no connection to me whatsoever.
Hey, I noticed 23andme listed you as a relative. Do you have any family members with the last name T--- or K---, especially in the northwest US? Are you related to my mother, Agnes T---?
The response came less than an hour later. And when I read it, a slow chill ran down my spine.
you will find out soon enough.
That was the whole thing. The whole response. Those cryptic six words. I quickly shot a message back: Are you related to me? Or my mom?
No answer.
I stared at the screen, my heart pounding. Then, in one swift motion, I moved my cursor up and removed her as a connection. Just a troll. A scammer. Something weird like that.
A few days later, I checked 23andme again—to find that G had removed her account. Or, possibly, that the glitch had been fixed. Because G was no longer listed as my mother, or a relative at all.
Weeks went by and I forgot about the whole thing. Work got busy, gardening season was in full swing, and my hours were spent either working late in the office or slaving over my plant babies. I didn’t even give G a second thought—
Until, one morning, it all came crashing down.
Two pink lines. My husband and I spent the morning crying, hugging each other, overjoyed about this little person we would bring into the world.
Until I went to the mailbox.
Inside was a folded piece of pink paper, tied off with black ribbon. No stamp—it must’ve been hand delivered. My throat went dry as I flipped it open and read the words on the page.
meet me at d--- park at midnight tonight.
-G

Since my wife died last year, I’ve been travelling across the UK in a decked-out van with my son, Sam. We’ve been heading up to Inverness, his mother’s favourite place, in the hope of scattering her ashes. It’s no surprise, then, that I’m a lover of adventures, is it?
Journey to the Lake Choose Your End
I picked it up from a charity store yesterday. A hardback novel with a tattered paper cover. Whilst some knock-offs are a little cringe-worthy, I was intrigued by this one. Minuscule white writing on an all-black cover. The stark, sinister minimalism of the art really gripped me.
Plus, I have fond memories of the “Choose Your Own Adventure” books from Sam’s childhood. But “Journey to the Lake” seemed a little more mature than the stories I remembered.
Choose Your End
The title alone seemed bleak, but I didn’t know the half of it.
“You reach a crossroads… Uh oh,” Sam said, chuckling as he read the book aloud.
“What?” I asked, smiling.
“Time to make our first decision,” He replied.
“Leave this to me,” I said, cracking my neck decisively.
Sam groaned. “Dad, no. You always made the worst decisions with these books back in the day.”
“I know,” I said. “Mum was always the smart one. I was the beauty, and she was the brains.”
Sam shook his head, before clearing his throat and leaning into the light above the van’s front dashboard. He read with the giddiness of a child. Of course, even at the age of 19, he’s still a child to me.
“Pick the safest path to the lake,” Sam read. “Take the road to Yellow Town. Page 11. Or take the road to Brickrock. Page 43.”
“Yellow Town!” I exuberantly requested.
Sam, being a people-pleasing saint, rolled his eyes and obliged. He flicked through the pages of the dusty, unbranded book and settled on Page 11.
To summarise, the road took our character to Yellow Town, a seemingly-serene place with a sinister history. It was haunted by the Seafarer, a stranger who was hanged for slaughtering seven townsfolk. And his ghost, donning a black raincoat, stalked the protagonist.
“Oh, so it’s that kind of story,” I said, smiling.
“I thought we would be going on a fantastical adventure with dragons and fairies,” Sam gulped.
“Maybe the Seafarer has a magical boat?” I suggested, smirking.
“Okay… I’m gonna stop there. I’m tired,” Sam said.
“Or scared?” I teased. “Well, if you want to stop reading so early, I might as well carry on driving to Carlisle. You okay with that? We could treat ourselves to a hotel, rather than kipping in the van.”
Sam shrugged. “Sure. Just wake me in a couple of hours.”
But I woke him far earlier than that. You see, we never made it to Carlisle.
“Welcome to Joune...?” I whispered, squinting to read the road sign for a town I hadn’t seen on the GPS.
The sign might’ve said something else, but it was dark, and one of the letters had faded.
I was more concerned with the neat rows of structures that rushed towards us on either side of the road. Quaint cottages, shops, and other quintessential British buildings — but they were all various shades of yellow. Like the town in the book. A strange coincidence.
But then, in one of the house’s upper windows, I briefly saw something which glued the flesh of my hands to the steering wheel.
A man in a black raincoat. Watching.
Journey to the Lake was on my brain, so it had to be confirmation bias. That was what I told myself.
Sam laughed when I woke him and explained the situation. He said the tables had turned — suddenly, I was the scaredy-pants. I thought he might be right.
“Room for two?” Asked the hotel receptionist at a little B&B in the middle of the town.
“Yes, please,” I said. “Two singles, mind.”
Sam rolled his eyes — his favourite response to my humorous quips. The receptionist merely nodded and handed over a key.
“Room 11. The end,” She said.
“Beg your pardon?” I asked in a hoarse whisper, suddenly perturbed by the receptionist’s uneven tone of voice.
“The end of the corridor,” She clarified, offering a false smile. “You can’t miss it.”
Sam and I practically sleep-walked to our room in the early hours of the morning, but I was overcome by a strange sense of alertness when I plopped onto my bed. I wish I hadn’t remedied that with the following idea.
“I’m gonna read a little more,” I said, pulling the book out of my backpack.
Sam groaned. “Why did you bring that in here?”
I found myself unable to crack one of my usual jokes. “I just have to know what happens next.”
Weary from your travels, you graciously accept the keys from the innkeeper. “Room 11. The end,” She says.
How? How could the book have known? Heart gripped by the terrifying and inexplicable sensation of suddenly being watched, I stopped reading.
“Ha, ha,” Sam sarcastically grumbled. “I’m going to sleep.”
“Read it for yourself,” I shuddered, hurling the book at him.
My son sat up and read the page for himself. “Is this one of your jokes? First, the yellow buildings. Now, a scripted conversation?”
“You were there in the shop with me. I found the book. I didn’t write it,” I said. “I think we need to go.”
A booming sound echoed along the hotel corridor, and goosebumps bubbled across my icy flesh. I’d never been so frightened in my life, but I summoned the bravery to stumble over to the door.
“You hear a thunderous creak in the hallway,” Sam read. “Gazing through the peephole, you see…”
I didn’t need my son to finish the sentence — yet again, the book had predetermined my actions. And through the peephole of the hotel door, I saw something horrifying.
The man in the black raincoat stood in the hallway, one eye peering into the peephole from the other side — as if he could see me. He was warped by the curvature of the glass into a horrifically large, malformed man. Or maybe those were his true dimensions. And there was no accounting for his lifeless, sagging skin. That was surely no trickery of the glass.
I screamed, stumbling backwards from the door.
“Head into the hallway. Page 59. Exit through the window. Page 115. Dad, what is this?” Sam quivered, seemingly understanding, at long last, that I was not playing a cruel joke.
“Page 115, right?” I asked, turning and running over to the window.
Sam nodded, leaping to his feet and frantically flipping through the pages as I pulled the curtains open. Fortunately, we were on the ground floor, and the window opened wide enough for us to slip out.
Sam went first, taking our bags with him, but I struggled to squeeze my slightly larger form through the window.
“Dad!” Sam screeched.
And in the reflection of the glass pane, I saw him. Standing behind me.
The Seafarer.
The door hadn’t opened. I don’t know how he entered the room. I don’t know how any of it happened.
One of his cold hands clamped onto my shoulder, squeezing tightly enough to drain the very life out of my being — his touch filled me with a haunting hollowness that I cannot put into words. An eternal hell that must’ve only lasted a moment in reality.
Terrified, I wrenched my body free of the inhuman man’s grasp, and I slithered out of the window after my son.
We sprinted to the van and made a hasty getaway, grateful to have chosen the right path this time. Or so we thought. As I drove the way we came, something unexplainable happened.
We found ourselves back in Yellow Town.
No matter which way we drove, the road always led back to Yellow Town. And that’s when the horrifying gravity of events soon dawned on both of us. We were trapped.
We are trapped.
Only the book can determine our fate. We’re too frightened to go back to an earlier point in the book and change things, given that we don’t know how this unholy scripture works — all we know is that this isn’t a story. Every consequence is real.
Our next choice is as follows:
You take the off-road route through the forest. But which road will bring you to the lake in time?
Route 15 — Page 152 Route 11 — Page 191
I have no idea which route to take, but I trust Sam’s judgement more than my own. I hope to update all of you soon.
If you never see a post from me again, then I guess we’ve chosen the wrong path.
X

Changed all names in this story!
Short version: While on an evening stroll with my daughter in her stroller and my dog, Charlie (20 lb doodle mix) on leash at a neighborhood park an unleashed dog, Max (about 80-100lb English cream golden retriever) ran towards us and attacked my dog (teeth showing). My dog screamed in fear and wrapped around me and the Max went after him and pushed the stroller out a couple feet. My daughter was sleeping and woke up startled and crying. Maxs owner stayed at a distance watching and refused to leash the dog after the incident. When confronted, he turned verbally abusive. I walked away consoling my crying infant and not wanting to aggravate the situation. Looking for advise on how to deal with this situation and also if this repeats in the future. Both dogs are regulars at this park.
Long version: a bit back story… My dog Charlie is trained and listens to commands pretty well, he gets along with all people and dogs except for this one, Max. We let him off the leash at this park when no one is around but is always on leash when people/kids are around. There’s a walking path encompassing the park and kids play area where we usually walk. The park has clear signs around that the dogs need to always be on leash. Charlie and the aggressive dog Max have met before and for some reason they did not get along, Max has always been aggressive and scared Charlie. We usually walk away when Max comes to this park since Max has attacked Charlie on 3 different occasions, but this was before my daughter was born. So it was easier to just pick up 20lb Charlie to safety and diffuse the situation. On this particular day, we were walking our usual path when Max jumped us and attacked Charlie. Charlie was leased and went in between and around my legs to avoid Max. Max being super big (anywhere between 80-100lb) pushed the stroller with my child in it. Luckily the stroller being sturdy didn’t topple over but rather slipped out of my hand and landed a couple feet away from me onto the grass area.my daughter screamed, started crying and after seeing me scream max ran away. It terrified me, my daughter could have been seriously injured in this! Through all this, Max’s owner was at a distance just watching. No recall or if he did it was not effective. So after the whole incident, my husband went to talk to the owner to get him to leash the dog so this doesn’t happen again. The owner turned hostile and refused to do so. When my husband mentioned that these were the park rules and he could report him, he started verbally abusing us and asked us to f*** off and do whatever we wanted. I was consoling my crying daughter and just asked him to show basic courtesy, he just turned away. There were a bunch of kids on the play area and other moms around, just watching. I didn’t want to aggravate the situation and asked my husband (who took a video of the man and unleashed dog) to walk away and not do anything right then since my daughter was #1 priority then.
I am sure if and when we cross paths with Max again, this will repeat. Both dogs are regulars at this park but we’ve always kept our distance. I am sure the dog Max is a good dog because we’ve seen him do some tricks, but I blame the owner for not doing enough to train/control him and turning bitter after.
I am looking for any advise on how to deal with this situation as well as a scenario when this happens again. The man seems mean enough to hurt others, or maybe that’s just my protective instinct talking. I don’t want to hurt Max but this incident should never happen to me or anyone else walking in that park.

Hello everyone, Have some items up for trade
All the buyouts for the selected items are just because of the rules.
I am open to discussing trades on Steam or Discord: Ab1r#1680 , feel free to add me there to discuss.
Some of the tradeable items are listed as follows:
TradeLink: https://steamcommunity.com/tradeoffenew/?partner=201510509&token=5HbDjuiH
-
Item Condition Float B/O
★ Stiletto Knife Damascus Steel MW 0.10 360$
★ Gut Knife Doppler Phase-2 FN 0.03 218$
★ Gut Knife Lore FT 0.27 210$
★ Ursus Knife Blue Steel MW 0.13 206$
★ Falchion Knife Autotronic FT 0.16 203$
★ Gut Knife Doppler Phase-3 FN 195$
★ Moto Gloves Blood Pressure FT 0.37 187$
★ Shadow Daggers Slaughter MW 0.11 182$
★ Survival Knife Night Stripe MW 0.13 170$
★ Ursus Knife Night Stripe FT 0.34 157$
★ Survival Knife Stained FT 0.33 154$
★ Falchion Knife Freehand BS 0.45 140$
★ Survival Knife Blue Steel WW 0.44 139$
★ Moto Gloves Cool Mint BS 0.75 136$
★ Bowie Knife Bright Water BS 0.47 127$
★ Ursus Knife Urban Masked BS 0.71 126$
★ Huntsman Knife Rust Coat BS 0.53 120$
★ Navaja Knife Crimson Web WW 0.39 113$
★ Gut Knife Ultraviolet FT 0.16 111$
★ Gut Knife Stained FT 0.20 108$
★ Gut Knife Scorched FT 0.23 96$
★ Driver Gloves Rezan the Red WW 0.38 78$
★ Hand Wraps Desert Shamagh BS 0.48 66$
★ Hand Wraps Duct Tape BS 0.65 65$
★ Hand Wraps Constrictor BS 0.45 64$
★ Hydra Gloves Emerald FT 0.30 63$
★ Hydra Gloves Mangrove FT 0.37 52$
AWP Wildfire FN 0.06 168$
M4A1-S Golden Coil MW 0.14 83$
UMP-45 Crime Scene FN 0.06 66$
USP-S Printstream FT 0.36 59$
M4A1-S Golden Coil FT 0.35 47$
ST AK-47 Redline FT 0.30 47$
M4A4 The Emperor MW 0.09 46$
ST M4A4 In Living Color MW 0.07 42$
M4A4 Neo-Noir FN 0.05 35$
AWP Hyper Beast FT 0.22 34$
Sir Bloody Darryl Royale The Professionals 21$
AK-47 Redline FT 0.27 19$
Glock-18 Bullet Queen MW 0.13 17$
P250 See Ya Later FN 0.06 12$
& more
Some prices might be outdated.
Note: I have new items coming and going daily and everything is not included in this list but everything is up for trade just send an offer!
TradeLink: https://steamcommunity.com/tradeoffenew/?partner=201510509&token=5HbDjuiH

PICOT: population are the medical students printing progress notes. Intervention considered, hiding the paper from the attendings. Comparison alternative intervention, sending the medical student to find a Doppler instead. Outcome fewer medical students jam the printer and get hit with hammers. Time frame is until the nurses lose interest because a charge nurse got a nurse and a tech pregnant in the course of a week.
Attendings carry dangerously long patient lists, because running an outpatient addiction clinic in Meth City beats working in a hospital for a bunch of administrators with MBAs from Southeast Arkansas School of Business and Television Repair.
As a consequence, the remaining attendings are busy making sure they have fulfilled 72 discrete administrative tasks and practices holistic medicine with all of their patients. They are also responsible for an unknown number of residents. Finally they are responsible for making sure the APRN knows the difference between levophed and labatilol, and why you can’t give either to a patient during an outpatient MRI.
Many APRNs from the Hollywood Upstairs Online Graduate School of Nursing have trouble distinguishing between drugs that start with the same letter and will only prescribe drugs that start with the same letter each day of the week. It’s a terrifying 26 day cycle, not unlike the time the attending had a pregnancy scare during their MCAT prep.
As a result medical students on rotation are the absolute lowest priority. The attending, however, has been instructed to find something for those little shits to do. So the medical students are assigned the task of printing all of the progress notes for all of the patients on the attending’s list. Inevitably the medical student jams the old as fuck printer. This is because the hospital is spending money on CRNA Appreciation Day’s golf outing and the medical student has not learned the ways of the the printer.
Learning the ways of the printer is harder than learning how to do a radical neck resection to repair soft tissue cancers extending from the hard palate to the esophageal sphincter. Micro stitching is much easer than applying 2.4 psi of pressure with a slight anti-clockwise rotation of the head of the one specific plastic screw, with the rotation not to exceed 7 degrees or 0.04 pound feet of torque, which causes the printer to print without jamming. If done incorrectly this will cause the printer to smoke and the student will be hit with a hammer.
Loss of a printer is inconvenient, because IT is in a Section 8 apartment in the housing projects across town. The hospital used a janitor’s paystubs to get the apartment. It’s very economical and the janitor and his family are allowed to live in the Provider’s Lounge. IT takes approximately 4 days to make it to the unit and then has to order the parts from North Korea. Every time someone needs to print, and can’t, a medical student gets hit with a hammer. Hammer injuries don’t pay well, so administration wants to reduce the number of med students in the ED.
The proposed intervention is hiding all of the paper. The working theory is that if a pleasing nurse in Figs tells the attending that they are out of paper. Then the medical students will have to sit and watch an APRN try to perform a bedside neck resection on an awake and alert 43 year patient recovering from an ACL repair after a drunk pickeball injury.
It is not going well. If a medical student tries to stop the neck resection, then they will be hit with a hammer. APRNs are the future and if you make them mad, they will leave the hospital and go open their own clinic specializing in Botox and ketamine. If you make an APRN sad, you will be hit with a hammer. Just stay quiet and go along with the “no paper” story.
Alternative intervention, a RN tells the attending that they don’t have time to doppler pulses on the fem-pop. They are busy buying Figs and applying to CRNA school. The attending will send the medical students to find a Doppler and then have them doppler the pulses. This works because there are no dopplers left in the hospital. They got lost in the bedding after a code and went to hospital laundry. The administration wants to cut Doppler costs this year, so no replacements are available. The fem-pop was unsuccessful, the foot turned blue, and it’s taken 4 more surgeries to repair - so many ICD-10 codes to enter.
Sidebar: rumor is that next year administration is cutting EKG machine costs, because someone said a 3 lead is just as good. The cardiology residents are already building their own EKG machines and testing them on forensic patients. So far the machine works well, with only a small number of burns. Unfortunately, these machines don’t read the EKG for them, but ChatGPT gives decently accurate reads.
Back to the study. I’m not sure if sidebars are allowed in APA 7th, but the APA 7th can suck my floridly psychotic patient’s left nut.
The medical students will spend their entire rotation finding the Doppler. This prevents any medical student caused printer issues and subsequent hammer bearings.
Proposed outcome. Fewer medical students with poorly reimbursed hammer injuries and fewer problems with the federal government every time a package full of printer parts and a class-traitor’s hand arrives from North Korea.
Time frame: at least a week or two. It will probably get abandoned when news breaks that James the charge nurse has been pursuing chunky RNs and techs and missed the pull out.
James knows that if the Figs are tight at the seams and she’s talking about getting a tattoo of her Pitbull that died of police gunfire after it attacked a school bus, then the panties are coming off after he buys them Applebees twice. Unfortunately James doesn’t know that the pullout method is ineffective, especially in the break room on the unit that’s closed for plumbing repair. Anyway, he’s gotten two of them pregnant in the same week.
The RNs have all been watching him try to gaslight the tech into believing that they’ve never actually had sex. He’s simultaneously trying to get the nurse to pickup some extra shifts to pay for her own abortion and cover some staffing holes.
Barbara the unit secretary figured it all out, because James, the tech, and the nurse all treat her like their work grandma.
Unfortunately Barbara said that the tech has been gaslighted before and isn’t falling for it again. Also the RN is a born again Christian and won’t get an abortion, wants her baby raised in a Christian household with a daddy, doesn’t know about the tech, and is straight fucking crazy.
So the study will probably end when news breaks. Side benefit, everyone is picking up to see it happen, so staffing has improved.
Statistical analysis: none, cause fuck statistics.

• [ ] There is nothing you can do to avoid a hammer beating even though its ICD-10 code reimburses at less than a flu shot.

I wrote this for a nursing theory class in my psych APRN program, and got an A, because nobody cares what we do. APRNs are the future.

Playing pickleball is an enjoyable sport that can provide numerous health benefits. However, some players may experience heel pain, which can hinder their performance and enjoyment. Fortunately, there are strategies to alleviate and prevent heel pain, supported by scientific and medical research.

1. Proper Footwear: Wearing appropriate footwear is crucial to prevent and manage heel pain. Look for shoes with good arch support, cushioning, and a firm heel counter. Scientific studies have shown that supportive footwear can significantly reduce heel pain (Smith et al., 2017). Consider consulting a podiatrist to get custom orthotic inserts that provide additional support and alignment.
2. Stretching and Strengthening Exercises: Engaging in specific stretching and strengthening exercises can help alleviate heel pain. Perform calf stretches by placing your hands on a wall, leaning forward, and keeping your affected foot behind the other. Hold the stretch for 30 seconds and repeat several times. Strengthening exercises such as heel raises and toe curls can also improve the stability of the foot and reduce pain (Riddle et al., 2015).
3. RICE Method: The RICE method (Rest, Ice, Compression, Elevation) is effective for managing acute heel pain. Rest your foot, apply ice for 15-20 minutes, wrap the area with a compression bandage, and elevate your foot to reduce swelling and promote healing. Scientific evidence supports the use of the RICE method for various foot conditions, including heel pain (Bleakley et al., 2012).
4. Over-the-Counter Pain Relief: Over-the-counter pain relievers, such as nonsteroidal anti-inflammatory drugs (NSAIDs), can temporarily reduce heel pain and inflammation. However, it is advisable to consult with a healthcare professional before using any medication to ensure it is suitable for you.
5. Seek Professional Help: If heel pain persists or becomes severe, it is essential to consult a healthcare professional or a podiatrist. They can perform a thorough evaluation, diagnose the underlying cause, and recommend appropriate treatment options tailored to your specific condition.

Conclusion: Heel pain can be effectively managed while playing pickleball by following these strategies. Remember to wear supportive footwear, perform stretching exercises, utilize the RICE method, consider over-the-counter pain relief if necessary, and seek professional assistance when needed. Prioritizing foot health will enable you to fully enjoy the game and reduce the risk of future complications.
Note: It's important to consult with a healthcare professional for personalized advice and treatment options based on your specific situation.
References:

• Smith, L. S., Clarke, T. E., & Hamer, P. W. (2017). Footwear characteristics and foot pain in community-dwelling older adults. Aging Clinical and Experimental Research, 29(2), 247-252.
• Riddle, D. L., Pulisic, M., Pidcoe, P., & Johnson, R. E. (2015). Risk factors for Plantar Fasciitis: A matched case-control study. Journal of Bone and Joint Surgery, 97(9), 705-712.
• Bleakley, C. M., O'Connor, S., Tully, M. A., Rocke, L. G., Macauley, D. C., & Bradbury, I. (2012). Effect of accelerated rehabilitation on function after ankle sprain: randomised controlled trial. BMJ, 344, e450.

Hi. I recently started therapy for a very traumatic upbringing. My therapist suggested I find an outlet to post my journal entries and I figured Reddit would be a good site. I don't exactly know how Reddit works, so if I do something wrong or need to change something, please let me know. I'm open to any messages or discussions/questions.
Note: Each entry will be a journal entry, although some read like poems, others are just works.
Entry Date: 05/19/2023
No Voice to Scream
Mom doesn't know about the terrors, but I can't blame her. None of them know. They happen and I'll kick and punch, but I never scream. I wake up, still feeling his hands over my mouth. I try to scream, but my voice is gone. He stole it from me I think. I get visions of it...of him during the day, and I freeze. reliving what happened over and over. Body parts touching me that shouldn't. Hands that hold me in ways I shouldn't know. But no one can ever know. As when I try to tell them, when I try to scream out my horror, his hand covers my mouth again, and I scream no more.

7 years of experience as an EM, but not a lot of recent hands-on-keys experience. Definitely stronger on the people/relationships/process side of management than I am on any particular tech or stack. I've managed security, full stack, front and back end, data, database reliability, and feature delivery teams. I have glowing recommendations from previous reports and managers/directors alike, a strong resume, I write a good cover letter, etc etc etc.
I was laid off in December, and I was starting to fray. Probably 300+ applications, 4 full interview rounds (and 4 rejections, ugh), a handful of other partial processes, lots of recruiter screens... had kind of tapped out my network, and the referrals hadn't gotten me anything. Close, but no brass ring. Severance ended in April, so the financial pressure was mounting.
Got passed over for a referral role that I really thought I'd get in May, after a full round of very good interviews, and I was pretty bummed. Anxiety at an all-time high (I mean ALL time, in 38 years of life). Starting to lose sleep, quality of life really starting to take a dip. Marriage stress. The works.
And then this role came through, completely randomly. No connections working there. Just saw a job description that resonated with me, threw my application in... maybe put in a little extra "oomph" in the cover letter... 4 rounds later... 16% salary bump compared to what I was making before, and it genuinely feels like a great fit. Values alignment, their recruiting process was super smooth, already got my standard-issue hoodie and water bottle, MBP's in the mail, flying out to meet folks at an all-hands in August, already feeling connected and already feeling good vibes. Obviously there's a honeymoon period and that will wear off, but... I'm excited.
Keep your heads up, folks. The roles are out there. It's rough and turbulent and the industry is going through convulsions right now, but the industry isn't going anywhere. This is a rough patch. We'll all get through it. It might get a little ugly and the stress/anxiety is very real, no doubt about it. Be prepared, be realistic, be pragmatic, but don't despair. Take care of yourselves, make sure you're being smart financially, and treat yourselves with kindness. It's a marathon.
And I'm not speaking to recent grads with no experience; I think you've got a different road ahead, and I think the landscape has perhaps changed more drastically for y'all than it has for us "veterans" with 5-10 years of experience, in the middle of our careers. I think the "tightening of the belt" (corporate speak for "the .001% that controls the money has decided everyone else is getting too much of it") is probably going to hit the entry level folks the hardest, because "doing more with less" means less bandwidth for mentorship, less budgets for internships, less appetite for juniors all around. It's absolutely penny-wise, pound-foolish and absolutely idiotic in the long term, but... well... welcome to capitalism.
But for those of us who have the experience: the roles are out there, and we'll get through this.

To start, I'm in NY. My child has had a horrible year of KINDERGARTEN. Yes, kindergarten. First few weeks of school,my son was getting punched by one particular student, kicked, cursed at and bullied. I advocated to no end, constant calls to the principal, the nurse, attempts at communication with the teacher to no avail. Generally he'd be deemed a liar essentially, or they'd claim "the cameras didn't catch it" or no staff member witnessed it. 2 DASA forms later, both determined unfounded, a handful of meetings with staff, calls to the superintendent's office and a mass amount of confusion,poor communication - they treated my son like a head case for being triggered by these same 3-4 students that continued to harass him through out the year. I've kept him home on some occasions until they'd come up with a new plan or resolution and he'd return and we'd see what happens only to have the process repeat and continue. By the end of January, they FINALLY removed the primary instigator from his class after charging across the classroom to slap my child across the face (this happened TWICE the same exact way only a week apart from each other). By this point, ky child had some mild aggression towards said students but the school took this as a point to send my son into the psychologist's office, the social worker, principal here there every where, every day without telling me. When I found out the severity, I threw a fit. Finally got someone from superintendent's office to call me back, she heard me out and seemed to take my case seriously. She arranged a meeting immediately. She scolded all staff members present for their poor communication and made clear of what was expected. Changes were directed to be made. I felt confident that maybe they'd finally do right by my child to give the safe, positive environment and education they deserve. Things seemed to improve, my child had more positive things to say about school (as they refused to talk about it for the whole year because they never wanted to even go). About a month or so after this meeting, brings us to about a week ago, my child discloses to me they are still going to the psychologist's several times a day every day and this conversation was prompted by a very invasive phone call from this "doctor" questioning my personal life. My child said she had been probing them about personal information too. Because of the excessive nature of these "earned breaks" out of class as my child's "reward" for good behavior, I called the superintendent to inform her that the staff had not followed her direction for the new plan. She lashes out at me and is wildly inappropriate with me. At this point, I write a letter via email to the principal (who I literally speak to at least 2 times a week this ENTIRE year since noone else communicates with me or calls me back), I inform him to discontinue all intersctions, sessions, groups etc with this woman (also worth noting, no my child has no diagnoses, no BIP, no IEP, no official mental disorders or disabilities as per the pediatrician and an evaluation by a licensed therapist as per the psychologist's recommendation-which i knew was bs but to appease and do the right thing, I had it done anyway). My child comes home that day and he didn't get sent to her office, they sent HER to my child's class to sit with them???!!!? At this point, I'm livid and have lost all patience and am now deficit in trust with these people. My child goes to school the next day, as I try to figure out what to do, calling education lawyers left and right with no success.
Here's where it goes from horrible to absolutely insanely ridiculously terrifying. I notice a small bruise on my child's outer forearm. I ask about it, they tell me the teacher grabbed their arm too hard "squeezed" like this my child gripped with white knuckles and teeth gritting. I'm horrified. Livid. Can't wrap my head around it but honestly in my heart, not entirely surprised.. this sad excuse for a teacher has been dismissive, neglectful, refuses to take accountability or responsibility, passive aggressive and nasty attitude anytime she had to dare waste her time talking to me, which has been one of the largest issues this year. This woman does not tell me what's happening ever. And always addressing literally any single issue with my child. For example, my child saying "butt" was deemed inappropriate language from her on a daily sheet report and only once i called and demanded what she was referring she said such language was "butt" ... Give me a break. She sends my child out to these other staff members whenever she doesn't want to deal seemingly because of my complaints about her poor practices. NOW, once my child tells me this, we go to the precinct to get it at least reported and documented and first thing the next morning, we go to the pediatrician. She documented as well and had to hear my child's account of what happened which she also documented. I took pictures the night of, the next morning and in the doctor's office. I kept my child home, of course and the principal contacts me. I tell him what I had been told from my child, and he says he'll address the teacher about it. She blatantly denies it. My child said they said "ow" to which she said "sorry" so she acknowledged she hurt them, and never informed me. Within 24 hours of my reporting her injuring my child, CPS knocks on my door with a wild accusation against me in hand. I explain to the investigator what has transpired and showed my child's arm, she documented that and with all the information I gave her and the things she confirmed with me, it became quite obvious the school made this allegation. She acknowledged that the more info she was getting from me, the more the picture was becoming clear of what was going on. I continue to tey to contact an education lawyer but I don't know what to do. None will call me back although the one that did I absolutely can not afford $5k retainer and $500/hr. Does anyone have any advice of what I can do or any resources? I've been collecting documents and also have yet to get my child's records which they also have refused to give me. I have a formal letter written for these records now that I'm submitting Monday. I have dates of incidents roughly not all of them, I have some phone calls recorded, held on to hand written noted given by the teacher, etc. Any advice would be absolutely appreciated!! Please help me protect my child!

Hello everyone, Have some items up for trade
All the buyouts for the selected items are just because of the rules.
I am open to discussing trades on Steam or Discord: Ab1r#1680 , feel free to add me there to discuss.
Some of the tradeable items are listed as follows:
TradeLink: https://steamcommunity.com/tradeoffenew/?partner=201510509&token=5HbDjuiH
-
Item Condition Float B/O
★ Stiletto Knife Damascus Steel MW 0.10 360$
★ Gut Knife Doppler Phase-2 FN 0.03 218$
★ Gut Knife Lore FT 0.27 210$
★ Ursus Knife Blue Steel MW 0.13 206$
★ Falchion Knife Autotronic FT 0.16 203$
★ Gut Knife Doppler Phase-3 FN 195$
★ Moto Gloves Blood Pressure FT 0.37 187$
★ Stiletto Knife Boreal Forest BS 0.67 185$
★ Shadow Daggers Slaughter MW 0.11 182$
★ Survival Knife Night Stripe MW 0.13 170$
★ Ursus Knife Night Stripe FT 0.34 157$
★ Survival Knife Stained FT 0.33 154$
★ Falchion Knife Freehand BS 0.45 140$
★ Survival Knife Blue Steel WW 0.44 139$
★ Moto Gloves Cool Mint BS 0.75 136$
★ Bowie Knife Bright Water BS 0.47 127$
★ Ursus Knife Urban Masked BS 0.71 126$
★ Huntsman Knife Rust Coat BS 0.53 120$
★ Navaja Knife Crimson Web WW 0.39 113$
★ Gut Knife Ultraviolet FT 0.16 111$
★ Gut Knife Stained FT 0.20 108$
★ Gut Knife Scorched FT 0.23 96$
★ Driver Gloves Rezan the Red WW 0.38 78$
★ Hand Wraps Desert Shamagh BS 0.48 66$
★ Hand Wraps Duct Tape BS 0.65 65$
★ Hand Wraps Constrictor BS 0.45 64$
★ Hydra Gloves Emerald FT 0.30 63$
★ Hydra Gloves Mangrove FT 0.37 52$
AWP Wildfire FN 0.06 168$
M4A1-S Golden Coil MW 0.14 83$
UMP-45 Crime Scene FN 0.06 66$
USP-S Printstream FT 0.36 59$
M4A1-S Golden Coil FT 0.35 47$
ST AK-47 Redline FT 0.30 47$
M4A4 The Emperor MW 0.09 46$
ST M4A4 In Living Color MW 0.07 42$
M4A4 Neo-Noir FN 0.05 35$
AWP Hyper Beast FT 0.22 34$
Sir Bloody Darryl Royale The Professionals 21$
AK-47 Redline FT 0.27 19$
Glock-18 Bullet Queen MW 0.13 17$
P250 See Ya Later FN 0.06 12$
& more
Some prices might be outdated.
Note: I have new items coming and going daily and everything is not included in this list but everything is up for trade just send an offer!
TradeLink: https://steamcommunity.com/tradeoffenew/?partner=201510509&token=5HbDjuiH

To start, I'm in NY. My child has had a horrible year of KINDERGARTEN. Yes, kindergarten. First few weeks of school,my son was getting punched by one particular student, kicked, cursed at and bullied. I advocated to no end, constant calls to the principal, the nurse, attempts at communication with the teacher to no avail. Generally he'd be deemed a liar essentially, or they'd claim "the cameras didn't catch it" or no staff member witnessed it. 2 DASA forms later, both determined unfounded, a handful of meetings with staff, calls to the superintendent's office and a mass amount of confusion,poor communication - they treated my son like a head case for being triggered by these same 3-4 students that continued to harass him through out the year. I've kept him home on some occasions until they'd come up with a new plan or resolution and he'd return and we'd see what happens only to have the process repeat and continue. By the end of January, they FINALLY removed the primary instigator from his class after charging across the classroom to slap my child across the face (this happened TWICE the same exact way only a week apart from each other). By this point, ky child had some mild aggression towards said students but the school took this as a point to send my son into the psychologist's office, the social worker, principal here there every where, every day without telling me. When I found out the severity, I threw a fit. Finally got someone from superintendent's office to call me back, she heard me out and seemed to take my case seriously. She arranged a meeting immediately. She scolded all staff members present for their poor communication and made clear of what was expected. Changes were directed to be made. I felt confident that maybe they'd finally do right by my child to give the safe, positive environment and education they deserve. Things seemed to improve, my child had more positive things to say about school (as they refused to talk about it for the whole year because they never wanted to even go). About a month or so after this meeting, brings us to about a week ago, my child discloses to me they are still going to the psychologist's several times a day every day and this conversation was prompted by a very invasive phone call from this "doctor" questioning my personal life. My child said she had been probing them about personal information too. Because of the excessive nature of these "earned breaks" out of class as my child's "reward" for good behavior, I called the superintendent to inform her that the staff had not followed her direction for the new plan. She lashes out at me and is wildly inappropriate with me. At this point, I write a letter via email to the principal (who I literally speak to at least 2 times a week this ENTIRE year since noone else communicates with me or calls me back), I inform him to discontinue all intersctions, sessions, groups etc with this woman (also worth noting, no my child has no diagnoses, no BIP, no IEP, no official mental disorders or disabilities as per the pediatrician and an evaluation by a licensed therapist as per the psychologist's recommendation-which i knew was bs but to appease and do the right thing, I had it done anyway). My child comes home that day and he didn't get sent to her office, they sent HER to my child's class to sit with them???!!!? At this point, I'm livid and have lost all patience and am now deficit in trust with these people. My child goes to school the next day, as I try to figure out what to do, calling education lawyers left and right with no success.
Here's where it goes from horrible to absolutely insanely ridiculously terrifying. I notice a small bruise on my child's outer forearm. I ask about it, they tell me the teacher grabbed their arm too hard "squeezed" like this my child gripped with white knuckles and teeth gritting. I'm horrified. Livid. Can't wrap my head around it but honestly in my heart, not entirely surprised.. this sad excuse for a teacher has been dismissive, neglectful, refuses to take accountability or responsibility, passive aggressive and nasty attitude anytime she had to dare waste her time talking to me, which has been one of the largest issues this year. This woman does not tell me what's happening ever. And always addressing literally any single issue with my child. For example, my child saying "butt" was deemed inappropriate language from her on a daily sheet report and only once i called and demanded what she was referring she said such language was "butt" ... Give me a break. She sends my child out to these other staff members whenever she doesn't want to deal seemingly because of my complaints about her poor practices. NOW, once my child tells me this, we go to the precinct to get it at least reported and documented and first thing the next morning, we go to the pediatrician. She documented as well and had to hear my child's account of what happened which she also documented. I took pictures the night of, the next morning and in the doctor's office. I kept my child home, of course and the principal contacts me. I tell him what I had been told from my child, and he says he'll address the teacher about it. She blatantly denies it. My child said they said "ow" to which she said "sorry" so she acknowledged she hurt them, and never informed me. Within 24 hours of my reporting her injuring my child, CPS knocks on my door with a wild accusation against me in hand. I explain to the investigator what has transpired and showed my child's arm, she documented that and with all the information I gave her and the things she confirmed with me, it became quite obvious the school made this allegation. She acknowledged that the more info she was getting from me, the more the picture was becoming clear of what was going on. I continue to tey to contact an education lawyer but I don't know what to do. None will call me back although the one that did I absolutely can not afford $5k retainer and $500/hr. Does anyone have any advice of what I can do or any resources? I've been collecting documents and also have yet to get my child's records which they also have refused to give me. I have a formal letter written for these records now that I'm submitting Monday. I have dates of incidents roughly not all of them, I have some phone calls recorded, held on to hand written noted given by the teacher, etc. Any advice would be absolutely appreciated!! Please help me protect my child!

To start, I'm in NY. My child has had a horrible year of KINDERGARTEN. Yes, kindergarten. First few weeks of school,my son was getting punched by one particular student, kicked, cursed at and bullied. I advocated to no end, constant calls to the principal, the nurse, attempts at communication with the teacher to no avail. Generally he'd be deemed a liar essentially, or they'd claim "the cameras didn't catch it" or no staff member witnessed it. 2 DASA forms later, both determined unfounded, a handful of meetings with staff, calls to the superintendent's office and a mass amount of confusion,poor communication - they treated my son like a head case for being triggered by these same 3-4 students that continued to harass him through out the year. I've kept him home on some occasions until they'd come up with a new plan or resolution and he'd return and we'd see what happens only to have the process repeat and continue. By the end of January, they FINALLY removed the primary instigator from his class after charging across the classroom to slap my child across the face (this happened TWICE the same exact way only a week apart from each other). By this point, ky child had some mild aggression towards said students but the school took this as a point to send my son into the psychologist's office, the social worker, principal here there every where, every day without telling me. When I found out the severity, I threw a fit. Finally got someone from superintendent's office to call me back, she heard me out and seemed to take my case seriously. She arranged a meeting immediately. She scolded all staff members present for their poor communication and made clear of what was expected. Changes were directed to be made. I felt confident that maybe they'd finally do right by my child to give the safe, positive environment and education they deserve. Things seemed to improve, my child had more positive things to say about school (as they refused to talk about it for the whole year because they never wanted to even go). About a month or so after this meeting, brings us to about a week ago, my child discloses to me they are still going to the psychologist's several times a day every day and this conversation was prompted by a very invasive phone call from this "doctor" questioning my personal life. My child said she had been probing them about personal information too. Because of the excessive nature of these "earned breaks" out of class as my child's "reward" for good behavior, I called the superintendent to inform her that the staff had not followed her direction for the new plan. She lashes out at me and is wildly inappropriate with me. At this point, I write a letter via email to the principal (who I literally speak to at least 2 times a week this ENTIRE year since noone else communicates with me or calls me back), I inform him to discontinue all intersctions, sessions, groups etc with this woman (also worth noting, no my child has no diagnoses, no BIP, no IEP, no official mental disorders or disabilities as per the pediatrician and an evaluation by a licensed therapist as per the psychologist's recommendation-which i knew was bs but to appease and do the right thing, I had it done anyway). My child comes home that day and he didn't get sent to her office, they sent HER to my child's class to sit with them???!!!? At this point, I'm livid and have lost all patience and am now deficit in trust with these people. My child goes to school the next day, as I try to figure out what to do, calling education lawyers left and right with no success.
Here's where it goes from horrible to absolutely insanely ridiculously terrifying. I notice a small bruise on my child's outer forearm. I ask about it, they tell me the teacher grabbed their arm too hard "squeezed" like this my child gripped with white knuckles and teeth gritting. I'm horrified. Livid. Can't wrap my head around it but honestly in my heart, not entirely surprised.. this sad excuse for a teacher has been dismissive, neglectful, refuses to take accountability or responsibility, passive aggressive and nasty attitude anytime she had to dare waste her time talking to me, which has been one of the largest issues this year. This woman does not tell me what's happening ever. And always addressing literally any single issue with my child. For example, my child saying "butt" was deemed inappropriate language from her on a daily sheet report and only once i called and demanded what she was referring she said such language was "butt" ... Give me a break. She sends my child out to these other staff members whenever she doesn't want to deal seemingly because of my complaints about her poor practices. NOW, once my child tells me this, we go to the precinct to get it at least reported and documented and first thing the next morning, we go to the pediatrician. She documented as well and had to hear my child's account of what happened which she also documented. I took pictures the night of, the next morning and in the doctor's office. I kept my child home, of course and the principal contacts me. I tell him what I had been told from my child, and he says he'll address the teacher about it. She blatantly denies it. My child said they said "ow" to which she said "sorry" so she acknowledged she hurt them, and never informed me. Within 24 hours of my reporting her injuring my child, CPS knocks on my door with a wild accusation against me in hand. I explain to the investigator what has transpired and showed my child's arm, she documented that and with all the information I gave her and the things she confirmed with me, it became quite obvious the school made this allegation. She acknowledged that the more info she was getting from me, the more the picture was becoming clear of what was going on. I continue to tey to contact an education lawyer but I don't know what to do. None will call me back although the one that did I absolutely can not afford $5k retainer and $500/hr. Does anyone have any advice of what I can do or any resources? I've been collecting documents and also have yet to get my child's records which they also have refused to give me. I have a formal letter written for these records now that I'm submitting Monday. I have dates of incidents roughly not all of them, I have some phone calls recorded, held on to hand written noted given by the teacher, etc. Any advice would be absolutely appreciated!! Please help me protect my child!

This post is not to judge anyone that has watched or does watch porn, I am just trying to call attention to what I feel to be a very important issue.
It is hard to overstate the negative impact that porn has had on our world and on relations between men and women. A lot of the content you will be exposed to on sites like Pornhub just by visiting the home page is disturbing. Almost every porn website has a 'teen' category and recruits girls that look as young as possible (or are even <18, as is the case in child pornography). Incest and sexual positions & acts that are degrading to women are the norm in porn.
Habitual porn consumption warps the mind of the viewer, and greatly contributes to abusive & degrading conduct by men against women, and this conduct is reinforced by patriarchical privilege, and also by gender norms in politics & the media (including films, shows & music).
A lot of women (particularly in the younger demographics) feel increasingly pressured to behave like porn stars and engage in sexual acts they may not otherwise be comfortable with, due to these acts becoming the most frequent desires of male partners. Porn also depicts sex as being almost if not exclusively about fulfilling the desires of men.
Horrifically, one can even find porn depicting 'rape' fantasies. Is it any wonder that in such a world, 1 in 5 women on college campuses (likely underreported) can be expected to be raped during her enrollment?
Porn became much more accessible with the public release of the internet, but the widespread adoption of smartphones enabled porn consumption in the palm of one's hand, which has likely contributed to a further increase in global porn watching.
On top of all this, reports from actresses in the porn industry describe horrific working conditions, where women are yelled at, physically and emotionally assaulted, lied to about what will be expected and then not be paid unless they do the newly expected sex act (ie anal which is very painful for many women).
Porn serves as the receptacle for sexual expression for many, in what has become an increasingly sexually repressed world. The damage caused by porn is immense and must be acknowledged for its destructive impact on global society.
​
P.S. I strongly believe that porn falls into the category of a 'Silent Weapon' deployed against humanity as described in this document. Other examples include 9/11, the 2008 banking fraud and 2020 'shutdown mania'. enchantedlifepath.com/war-on-humanity/silent-weapons-for-quiet-wars/
"Everything that is expected from an ordinary weapon is expected from a silent weapon by its creators, but only in its own manner of functioning.
It shoots situations, instead of bullets; propelled by data processing, instead of chemical reaction (explosion); originating from bits of data, instead of grains of gunpowder; from a computer, instead of a gun; operated by a computer programmer, instead of a marksman; under the orders of a banking magnate, instead of a military general.
It makes no obvious explosive noises, causes no obvious physical or mental injuries, and does not obviously interfere with anyone’s daily social life.
Yet it makes an unmistakable “noise,” causes unmistakable physical and mental damage, and unmistakably interferes with the daily social life, i.e., unmistakable to a trained observer, one who knows what to look for.
The public cannot comprehend this weapon, and therefore cannot believe that they are being attacked and subdued by a weapon.
The public might instinctively feel that something is wrong, but that is because of the technical nature of the silent weapon, they cannot express their feeling in a rational way, or handle the problem with intelligence. Therefore, they do not know how to cry for help, and do not know how to associate with others to defend themselves against it.
When a silent weapon is applied gradually, the public adjusts/adapts to its presence and learns to tolerate its encroachment on their lives until the pressure becomes too great and they crack up.
Therefore, the silent weapon is a type of biological warfare. It attacks the vitality, options, and mobility of the individuals of a society by knowing, understanding, manipulating, and attacking their sources of natural and social energy, and their physical, mental, and emotional strengths and weaknesses."
Therefore, porn can be understood as a silent weapon in the sense that it makes no obvious physical noises as compared to conventional weaponry, and yet you can argue that pornographic videos (the bulk of which are produced by only a small handful of massive corporations) have caused social, sexual and overall societal damage equivalent to a whole silo of nuclear weapons.

Its been 10 years since i started this dark Journey. It all started cuz my perfect life in a bubble burst due to heartbreak. Heh It's g Funny once you think about it. If she didn't make a fool out of me I wouldn't have started doubting myself, I wouldn't question everything, I wouldn't have started rebelling against society, against the world. If I'm being honest I'm thankful to her for making me who i am now. Ah you are probably thinking why I'm telling you all this rubbish. Hmmm call me ... sentimental. Well to be fair, after the pentacross society of fantasy unlocked the secrets of magic, rebelling against the world is as easy as sipping tea from a wine glass. Tho it's not easy to carry the weight of people you killed in cold blood. U never get used to the feeling of warm blood dripping from your hands... you know you should count yourself lucky i haven't taken your heart out of your body.. sigh I told you people.. NO! I specifically warned you people not to enter my domain, I told you not to disturb my peace, I TOLD YOU NOT TO TRAMPLE THE SANCTUARY I CREATED... . .(the dots represent time skip) . You said you name was ##***#.. hmmm I'll call you.. hero, yeah it suits you. A hero tied up and tortured in the evil villains castel.. if you ask me its been 3 weeks since u guys attacked me and lost and i captured your heart... literally. Hahahaha haaaaaa.... well it's not like you could do anything to me or escape till u have this curse etched in your heart.. rest easy hero we've got a lot to talk about . . . Ah you're awake... What's this? You're wondering why this castle is clean without any cleaning spells or servants.. that's because of the robot I made with my magic.. technically you can call them golems cuz th3y use magic instead of electricity.. but that's not what u really wanna ask, do you... you wanna know why you're alive after all it's been 3 months since your capture.. like i said before It's me being sentimental.. and i got no one else to talk to …
. . I've got to show u something.. this... see how the magic lines just wrap around the nodes and its not creating any redundancy in the formula.. i've added extra mana circuits to battle the looping problem and the efficiency... looking at your face you don't understand a thing... let's see... "magic circle function, will do job fine". Heh now u get it.. silly human.. well u go do what u want except leaving of course.. . . . . WHY ARE YOU HERE? DID YOU READ YOU JOURNALS!?.. I TREATED U LIKE A GUEST AND NOT A PRISONER... AND THIS IS HOW YOU REPAY ME.. BY READING. MY. JOURNALS. ABOUT MY OLD. LIFE... get out, go now before i rip you tO SHRED.. GET THE FUCK OUT THIS INSTANT. . . . . What do you want? I told you you're free to leave.. you're "people '' have not entered my realm for the last year and haven't done anything suspicious.. you can go to your world and leave this place behind.... why do you wanna know what i will do.. ah i see, the evil villain can't be left alone without any good reason.. don't worry, now that I've completed my magic circle I'll use it to go back in time... No. Not to turn things around... I just wanna see how i was before i lost her... you've read my journals.. you know she didn't love me as i did her but i did love her more than she could know.. she was killed as a result of my uprising. I never forgave your government to drop glintstone shrapnel missiles on my home town to stop me... and I never will... but if i stopped before.. she would be alive.. she would be happy... anyways get out or I'll really kill you this time... . . . . . Hmmm.. hero you've come back... it's been.. 3 years since I last saw you I think.. i don't know what time it really is due to all the chrono-disallow around me... oh this... it's nothing just a wound from a glintstone shrapnel... yeah i tried to change it.. change the history of the world itself... the world rejected it.. countless times.. until it didn't. It was probably an error but still it was something... I saw the universe split into two the moment I decided to redirect the missile. Although this world.. which I ruined from my actions still exists.. be happy that there is another version of this world which goes on normally... oh yeah after i die... the two universes will collide and the best possible result will be dominant and absorb the less dominant one... the less one being this universe... I'll cease to exist but everything else will have a chance to flourish... hero.. you'll be the new ray of hope for that world... heh yeah for you I've made some adjustments... you'll forget about me but you'll never forget the stuff u learned here... help the world flourish into a new golden age... a world without darkness. A world without me.. without Aeincrad.....

TimeStamp: https://imgur.com/a/Jz8KPK3
Pictures: https://imgur.com/a/LIStYxd
Another newer version of the Bullet Bags! Inspired by another custom order request from my friends over at AK Peasants. New design has a loop of webbing creating a handle for easy control when moving down the firing range. Also new patches to go with! 2x4 inch field of loop for the bigger square patches. 1.5x3 inch for the smaller patches. Offering 2 sizes for handguns and rifle caliber bullets. Little guy holds atleast 200 bullets and could hold more but not certain how much more weight it can hold I haven’t tested more than 200 9mm rounds. I double stitched every seam and triple stitched on some so it should hold a good heavy load but not tested much. The blue digital is very thin material and definitely not intended for a lot of weight mostly for looks and to hold lighter gear. Available in Multicam Black, Woodland, MC Tropic, Ranger Green, Coyote, Flecktarn, Alpine Snow, Realtree Camo, Blue Digital, Scorpion Ocp and Black. Vietnam Tiger Stripe will be back in at the end of the week. Currently only have the 7 patch variations shown in the picture 9mm, 556, 223, 7.62x39, and ''Freedom Seeds''. Each bag will come with one patch of your choice. Any extra patches will be an additional $4. Making these daily so let me know what you would like to see in the next post if it’s not in this one. $30 shipped for smaller pouch $35 shipped for larger pouch Specify which size patch and variation of patch. Also which size bag and type of handle or D rings at the end.
x2 Large Flecktarn x3 small MC Tropic x1 small Alpine Snow x1 small flecktarn x1 Large Blue Digital x1 1 small Realtree Camo
​HK hook belt clip lanyards to hang your keys, gloves, or any other tacticool gear you can think of. The belt clips wrap around your belt and velcro onto itself. They can be weaved through Molle if you don’t want to wrap around your belt. I offer 2 sizes one for EDC belts that are up to 2 inches wide and don't hang as low. The Battle Belt clips fit belts up to 2.5 inches wide and hang about an inch lower. At the moment I have Coyote, Multicam Tropic and Arid, Black, Ranger Green, Woodland, Multicam Black, Hawaiian Sunset, Black Hawaiian, Black, and Blue Polynesian materials on hand. Currently have 1 of each color for the edc but plenty more materials and making more daily. EDC clip $15 shipped and $10 for each additional clip Battle clip $17 shipped and $12 for each additional clip First person to buy 4 or more belt clips gets a free 2 point quick adjust sling that I make!​​
Fire Sale right now!! 3 clips for $30 any size!!
Can’t take preorders per page rules but comment what you would like to see in tomorrow’s post and I’ll make sure to have it!
Post dibs and I’ll pm. PayPal or Venmo add 3% for goods and services. Also accepting cash app. Thanks for any and all support!

[←Chapter 64] [Cover Art] [My Links] [Index] [Discord] [Subreddit] [Chapter 65→]
The sensation of dreaming was still somewhat foreign to Efrain. Part of him was fully integrated into the dream, believing whatever strange logic that was thrust upon him. The other part was an independent observer, watching as its counterpart was tugged about on the tides of absurdity. Most of it was inky and jumbled recollections of the past few days, monsters and pages scrawled with ink and sharp steel.
Then it very much wasn’t.
He was in a contorted, expanded reminiscence of the office in Karkos. Wood panelling stretching into misty heights, lined with the relatively unadorned bridges and walkways of the Kakros canals. Bookshelves upon bookshelves were laid into the walls of this now titanic space.
The first sensation that came to Efrain was the ache of vanish eyes at the sheer expanse of the library. Even the cathedrals and halls of Angorrah paled in comparison to the immensity of the endless bookshelves. The second sensation was marvelling at how he was aware of any of this at all.
Tentatively, he picked a book from one of the many shelves, its red cover bearing no inscription. As he opened the pages, they flickered and tessellated out, until his whole world was the text and paper. And slowly, words began to resolve into their real, physical components.
‘Water’ became a sparkling sea, ‘orange’ became a expanse of bloody sky, ‘friends’ stretched and warped into the shape of two men, sitting on the steps of a stone pyramid. The city around them was far smaller, without most of the wooden constructions and walkways that now dominated it. There was a clear line to the sea, and Efrain was sitting under the shade of a parasol, dressed in purple robes.
“Well, that about settles it,” said Nicolo, his dark beard just beginning to take on the fullness that would remain throughout his life.
“No it does not,” Armsted responded, “I’m already on the ropes with my family for how many women I allow you to visit here. I do not consent, I don’t even have the authority to consent to this.”
“Oh you’ll figure it out,” Nicolo said, shoving his friend, in a move that might’ve been dangerous for anyone less heavily built than Armsted, “everyone knows you’re the real heir anyways, not that pig that buries his heads between every set of thighs he comes across.”
“Rock, meet glass house,” said Armsted, shoving back.
“Oh please, I’ve reformed,” Nicolo said, pressing his hand to his chest, “I’ve seen the errors of my ways - there’s only one woman for me now.”
He turned around to look at Efrain under his parasol, his expression shining bright through the veil Efrain was wearing.
“Attest for me, friend,” he said, plantiff.
“Reformed?” Efrain mused, “Well, if you mean in the same sense as Angorrah - costing far too many innocent lives in the process, to dubious ends, then I’d be inclined to agree.”
Armsted laughed, and the two young men began to playfully wrestle in the roof top pool, surrounded by modified lunar lilies. He sighed and shut the book on the various sun dances he’d been reading, hoping that their splashing didn’t get too much water in the planters. The poor plants were so sensitive after all, too much water and they’d rot from the stem up.
“You know-” Efrain said, “some might say you-”
Bam. Like a book being shut hurriedly, Efrain was back in the impossibly huge library, the book closed in his hands. Efrain looked down at the cover, only to find that it was now gone, lost somewhere on the infinite shelves.
“What?” he said, “No, no, hold on, give it back.”
He tried to parse the various volumes, and couldn’t find a single one of the deep blood red that the volume had been. Still, there were plenty more, so he picked one at random. It was an older text, with yellowed pages, and worn leather coverings.
Once more the text on the page expanded and morphed into the real world.
He was in another office, larger than the one in Karkos, the wood panelling in this one darker, the bookshelves larger. Red curtains were drawn back from a whole wall of windows, overlooking a city of considerable size. Efrain recognized it from his earliest memories.
He was in Angorrah. But where? When? Just after he’d completed his transformation.
His question was answered and saw the dark coloured hands that rested on his massive, and cluttered desk. He wanted to reach up to his face, to feel if there was still meat on his cheeks, eyes still in their sockets. But alas, this was just a memory and he only could watch it play out before him.
There was note on his desk, stained with what looked like tears. Were they his? What was the note saying? He couldn’t quite notice, given that his gaze was locked on the city. The note remained stolidly at the edges of his vision, despite how he might will his eyes to move.
He came up towards the glass, laying a hand on it, feeling and marveling at the cold against his now living flesh.
There was a knock at the door, a student perhaps. Efrain wiped his eyes, and hastily composed himself for the visitor. Without so much as looking, he walked over to the desk and seized the note, crumpling it violently and thrusting it into a pocket.
“Yes, ahem, yes! Come in, please,” he said.
The door creaked open and in walked-
Bam. He was out, back in the library. The book was gone, lost once more on the shelves.
“No!” he cried, “That was- that was-”
“You don’t belong here,” came a voice.
He turned, finding a suspended platform, littered with desks, and what looked like an immense pile of written on pages. As he watched, it rose, swirling as one enormous mass. There was something familiar about it, just at the edges of his consciousness.
“I am familiar, because you have seen me before,” came the voice, “but you should not have come. This place is not for you.”
“The books in this place, are they all memories? Even the ones that happened before I-”
“Not memories. You’ve said - memories are knowledge. Knowledge can lie. They are truth. Not in the absolute, but the truth of what happened in time.”
“Well,” Efrain said, “I want to know more.”
“No,” said the crawling lines of text, constantly forming and reforming, “twice you have been pulled back from this place. First by the-”
The voice made a sequence of sounds that Efrain couldn’t parse. The whole scene seemed to shudder at what must have been language.
“She knocked you loose, hence you can float free. I doubt it was intended. Now I must deal with the consequences.”
“Here,” he said, “where is here? What are you?”
“No one,” said the thing standing tall as the space blurred and contorted around her, “My name is gone. By function, I remember when all forget. Here is here. My garden, my library, my vault. You have been brought here by mere chance, now GO.”
With that final word, Efrain was sent careening forwards as the entire scene shifted sideways. Falling with the contents of the entire library, soon the pages became his entire vision.
Then he was back in the office of Karkos, the mentor craning over him, clearly concerned by his lack of movement.
“Master Efrain?” he said, holding a tray with a pot and cups, “I had fetched the tea like you asked, but you weren’t responding.
Efrain flexed his fingers, touching his mask, and found nothing but cold bone and stone, respectfully.
“Yes, well,” Efrain said, “I must’ve fallen asleep. Odd, I rarely need it. Oh, and you brought the tea, how thoughtful.”
“Yes. I have it on the recommendation of the professor you sat in on that the persimmon blend is particularly fragrant. ‘Warms the soul’ he said.”
“Let’s hope he doesn’t bare a grudge,” Efrain said as the tray was set before him.
“If you were anyone else, he might’ve,” laughed the mentor, “but seeing a historical figure, one of the founders of the academy no less, come to refute his own work? It doesn’t get much better for a scholar of history.”
Efrain chuckled as the tea was poured, filling the room with a scent that indeed warmed the soul.
“To tell you the truth, I thought that I’d forgotten how to teach,” Efrain said, taking the cup and inhaling deeply, “I’ve spent so many years on my own, lost in my books in distant locales. I haven’t had true students in decades. Well, except…”
The mentor sat forward, clearly curious at what kind of person Efrain might’ve taken on as a student.
“I met a girl, young girl, in a mountain village,” he said, smoothing over the church, “well, quite a few things happened. It all got a bit messy - overlapping parties with overlapping interests, and all that. She ultimately fell under my wing. Curious girl. Actually, her mother was from the city.”
The man nodded vigorously, encouraging him to continue as he sipped from one of the cups.
“Now that I recall, her mother was…” Efrain snapped his fingers, “now what was her name? Well, it doesn’t matter. I’ll think of it later. In any case, she was bizarre. Has a magical affliction.”
“A magical affliction? Do you mean a curse?”
“Well, perhaps,” Efrain said, tapping his temple, “curses on objects are hard enough, especially if you want them to endure. Putting on living creatures is notoriously difficult. In fact, did you know there’s some old accounts of the sorcerers living on the steppes north of Angorrah. They came in conflict with the church, and they would send in goats to the city with bezoars loaded to the brim with magic. The poor animals would then explode.”
The scholar could not possibly be more interested than anything else. Efrain was unsure if this was merely perfected flattery, or genuine fascination on the man’s part. Either way, it elevated his opinion - if flattery, this level was an art in itself.
“Unfortunately, it didn’t do them a whole lot of good in the end,” Efrain sighed, staring out the windows, “none of those that resisted the Helgacite expansion did well. Angorrah was too well organised to leave stragglers.”
“Except the northern mountain kingdoms,” said the mentor.
“Well, that’s true,” conceded Efrain, “only because Angorrah had conquered half a dozen other countries by then and didn’t want to spread their forces further. The mountain men were shrewd - locking them into a contract like that.”
Efrain thought about the forested regions of Inalthia, where the borders of Angorrah ran up against its northern mountains. It’d been nothing when he’d passed through, almost three hundred years prior. He wondered if it had also expanded into sprawling townships, like Karkos had in his absence. Of course, they had the notable advantage of being basecamp for any and all mining operations in the region, and the reception point of the mountain men’s tithes to boot.
“But, back to the girl I spoke of. Odd creature. Bright. Part of a set, actually,” Efrain said, putting down the teacup.
“Oh?”
“Yes, of three. The other two are twins. Completely unrelated to her, from Erratz actually.”
“How curious!” said the mentor, nodding to indicate he knew the city.
“Yet all sharing the same affliction. They have these… scars. They wrap around their arms and hands. No pattern that I could see. And when they use magic, they glow from within.”
The mentor had put down his cup, and was leaning into Efrain now, hardly daring to breath.
“It’s fascinating, really,” Efrain said, “and they have these memories. Not their own. Supposedly they’re of the founding gods of the church.”
“Bizzare!” said the man.
“Oh yes, quite,” Efrain said, enjoying the exaggerated reactions of his converser, “and they have the most striking capacity for magic I’ve ever seen. They pick up things in a handful of tries that might take others hours to do. Not to mention just how deep their wells run.”
“And they all share this same trait?” said the man, fiddling with his spectacles.
“Oh yes,” Efrain said, “different children, obviously, with their own individual identities and personalities, but all with the same affliction. Fascinating isn’t it? So, through some twists and turns, one of the ultimately came to me for guidance. I should go check up on her, to see if she’s alright.”
“If you know which families they’re staying at, I could bring you to them,” said the mentor, “but you’ll be seeing them at the Festival tomorrow, or so it is said.”
“I see, well, there’s no rush, at least for now,” Efrain said, reclining in the chair.
“By the way, I can’t help but notice you’ve not sipped your tea. Is there something wrong? More honey?”
“Err…” Efrain said,thinking fast, “of course. Speaking of cursed items! This mask. Fused to my face. Quite unremovable, I think. Can’t eat or drink anything.”
“That’s horrible!” said the Mentor, standing up, “we must remove it at once! You’ll starve.”
“No, no, my good man, though I appreciate the thought,” Efrain said, “it’s been stuck to me for some time, you see. Quite useful in a way, it would seem it’s curse also spares the wielder from starvation and thirst, also sleep, for the most part.”
“Oh,” he said, “well how did you come by such a device?”
“It was a curiosity, one that I didn’t take care when handling,” Efrain said, wagging his finger, “a good lesson for you. Even the wisest can be unfathomably careless. I might miss the comforts of food and drink, but I’ve found other ways to amuse myself. My nose has gotten quite sharp. The professor was right, the blend warms the soul.”
That seemed to placate the mentor, who resumed sipping on his blend, though not without occasional guilty looks at Efrain’s full cup. Before they could resume the conversation, there was a knock at the door to the study.
“That’d be some of the students,” said the mentor, getting up to let them in, “they went to the library to get the texts you requested.”
Several young men and women filed in, arms filled with bound volumes, as well as brushes and inkpots. The mentor was quick to dismiss them as he began to reorganize the journals in order of instruction. Efrain was happy to sit and scent the tea as he did so.
“Well, there’s that,” the mentor said, slightly sweaty after moving so many volumes around, “Twelve in total, representing most of your attributed work. There are other books that reference yours. Oh dear, I’ll suppose those will have to be changed as well.”
“That’s was second editions are for,” Efrain said as he flicked open the cover of the first book, reading the brief foreword, “I assume you have a press in the city.”
“Several,” said the mentor, “we took the designs from Angorrah, and improved upon it. The artisans called it “woefully inefficient” when they first started building them. Also “tacky”.”
Efrain laughed as he finished the prelude, more self-aggrandizing nonsense from Nicolo, though not as audacious as some of the lies he’d put together in his youth. Seems like age had tempered that particular tendency.
“They would,” Efrain said, “I assume you just lease copies to them?”
“Oh yes. The previous mentor tried to sell the entire manuscripts to them!” he huffed, “selling off our academies heritage for profit, I say.”
“Can’t imagine too many were happy about that. I can see why you were selected as his successor.”
“You flatter me, master Efrain,” he said, bowing his head low with a smile of appreciation.
Within the first few pages, Efrain already knew exactly where the bulk of this book had come from. He also knew that it would have to be entirely rewritten for accuracy's sake. He’d already committed, however, there was no backing out of this one. To his surprise, however, the historical footnotes were both well sourced and actually quite informative.
Always more interested in history, Efrain thought, shaking his head and smiling in his mind.
“Well, is there anything else you’d like to discuss master?” he said, “or should I leave you to it?”
“I think we’re done for the time being, my friend,” Efrain said, gesturing to the piles of papers, “I have my work cut out for me, it would seem.”
“I can send up a senior student to serve as a scribe if you should wish,” he said, getting up and retrieving the tea set.
“Not as a scribe - I prefer to write my own notes,” Efrain said to a nod of appreciation, “but send one up all the same, so I can fetch more paper and ink should need demand. Preferably a quiet one if possible.”
“Absolutely,” said the mentor, “I can’t tell you how excited we all are to have you! And for you to grace us with your knowledge - ah, golden opportunities abound!”
“Yes, yes,” Efrain said, before snapping his fingers, “ah yes! I figured it out.”
“What would that be?”
“The name of the girl’s mother. My student from the northern village.”
“Ah, I see. What is it?”
“Assyeria, that’s what it was,” Efrain said, wondering how he would have forgotten something so simple.
The mentor, on the other hand, turned white then red, and had to scramble to catch the tray he dropped.
[←Chapter 64] [Cover Art] [My Links] [Index] [Discord] [Subreddit] [Chapter 65→]

[←Chapter 63] [Cover Art] [My Links] [Index] [Discord] [Subreddit] [Chapter 65→]
In a rare moment, Sorore was actually having a nice dream, a normal one, one could even say. She was back home, in that moderately seized house in Erratz, laying on her mother’s lap. She could even hear the gentle sound that the needle made as it went in and out of the cloth. It was peaceful, pleasant, surrounded by familiar sound and smells, though her sight was blurry and confused.
It was not to last, as the sound of rushing water overtook all else, until she was forced awake by its unrelenting pace. When she sat up, rubbing her eyes in the broad bed, she released that it wasn’t the sound of water, nor was it relegated to her dreams. There was a commotion outside people talking in hushed but harsh tones.
Neither Lillian, nor Aya were within the room, and she wondered if they were having an argument. That wouldn’t be good - she’d watched them have the spat earlier, and that dispute didn’t need much worsening. Sorore crept to the door to the outer hallway - she loved how they slid to create whole new rooms. It was something she’d have to think about more she decided as she pulled it open and realised several things at once.
One, there were a whole lot of armoured figures in the hallway, at least four, maybe half a dozen. Two, the balcony door was open, and Lillian was currently arguing with one of them, Aya standing by looking like a mining explosive had gone off right next to her. Three, her brother and Niche had just emerged out of the room beside, and Niche was about to draw his sword at the sudden intrusion.
For a moment, she panicked, her mind going completely blank. Her mind raced with visions of bloody aftermath, and a chase through the city, back to the dinner she’d had with all those nice people.
“Oh, hello!” she blurted, drawing the surprised stares of several of the men, “who might you be?”
There was an instant of shocked silence between all parties.
“Nobody do anything!” called the man who was out on the porch, “We are representatives of the sand-shell legion, on behalf of the matriarch of the Eisen. We have come to retrieve her granddaughter.”
Niche lowered his hand from his sword belt, but Sorore could tell that he was ready to fight on a moment’s provocation. She also noticed that Kieren, in the same gown she’d worn to the square was standing in the stairwell. The woman looked so nervous Sorore thought she might fall over and down the stairs.
“Let’s move to a less cramped area,” said the captain, in a tone that brook no argument.
Eventually, it was sussed out, though not without considerable resistance on part of the paladins, that they were to meet in the great hall. As they sat, they were brought simple drinks of milk and honey, flavoured with something else that Sorore could not quite place. The two paladins looked like pacing cats, constrained on their chairs, arms crossed and eyes hard.
“Under no circumstances can we give one of ours into you custody,” said Lillian, locked in a match with the captain.
“Within the city, you are under the authority of the guard, no matter who you are. If the matriach has sent for this girl, then we have our orders.”
“As do we, captain,” said Niche, “to protect and guide each of these young women and… man, unto the holy lands of Angorrah.”
One of the guards flanking the captain whispered something in his ear.
“She’s not going to like it,” the captain said, then heard something else.
“Very well. Bloodshed before the Festival would be unwise. We have enough of that already. Right then, one of you paladins, assuming you are who you say you are, shall come with us and the lady to be received by the Eisen. I cannot say it’s likely you will have a happy reception. They will expect you to come unarmed.”
The paladins were bristling at the implied threat, and several hands were already dangerously close to their sword belts. Sorore gripped the mug that she was being offered, before Aya sat up and proclaimed to the group.
“Leave two of your men with us, then,” she said.
The captain’s eyes furrowed.
“I don’t wish to second guess you, my lady,” he said, “but why would I do that?”
“Trust,” Aya said, with a side long look at Lillian, “simple. If you leave your men with us, you can’t simply waltz off with me and my friend. Plus, it gives us men who know, and can quickly get around the city, so they can find you whenever they need to.”
The captain considered, and nodded.
“Very well my lady. Two men will be left for the disposal of your party members. But you shall have to come with us, immediately.”
“Me as well,” said Lillian.
“As you wish,” he said, “but you must disarm yourself. That is non-negotiable.”
Lillian was fuming, but unbuckled her belt and handed her armaments to Niche. The legionaries surrounded them, and departed with them out the front of the pyramid. They were left in front of the roaring fire, Kieren sitting beside them holding a considerably more full glass of the amber coloured alcohol.
“You said that this-” Niche began, his face reddened, “you sold us out!”
“Sold you out?” said Kieren incuriously as she swirled the glass around, “sold you out?”
The woman slammed down the glass on one of the nearby table, somehow not breaking it in the process.
“Maybe, you should of told us that you had the granddaughter of Aystara godsdamned Eisen in your retinue? No, forgot that little detail?”
“Okay, can we get this over with?” said Frare, picking at his nails.
“What?” said both the paladin and the trader, staring at the temerity of the youth.
“Blah, blah, we’ve all kept things from eachother,” he said, “so let’s all move on. Who is this ‘Aystara’? Why is she important?”
While Niche gaped at the casual ease from which Frare dismissed the turbulence, the trader seemed to settle.
“Only one of the two most powerful people in the city, young man,” she said, downing a shot from the glass, “between her and Edmund Poutash, it’d be easier to list what they don’t own. The docks, the schools, the farms… if you want an import or export licence? You go through her. You want to own a ship bigger than a rinky-dink fishing boat? You go through her or Potash.”
She finished the glass, and reached for the decanter, and stopped herself.
“And you waltz into the city, and conveniently forget to mention that you have her granddaughter, who hasn’t been in the city ever, if I remember correctly. To say she’d be furious that you didn’t bring the young lady before her immediately would be an understatement. And worse, you dragged us into it.”
“She must be awfully mean - you had nothing to do with us. You just hosted it.”
The woman blinked at the boldfaced remark, and Sorore delivered a good kick to his shins to drive the point home.
“No, no,” she ultimately said, “no I don’t think she’ll do anything to our family, if she believes us. She’s not unreasonable. At least, so I’ve heard. I’ve only met her once, and that was for a brief time. As for what she’ll do to you...”
She gave a pointed look at Niche.
“You tried to hid her granddaughter from her, maybe unintentionally, maybe not. If I were a betting woman, which I’m not, I would say that means trouble. If you want my advice-”
“I don’t,” said Niche, crinkling his noise.
“Don’t be stupid,” said Frare, before he howled at another kick.
Sorore’s face was burning with indignation and embarrassment. This was all too much.
“If you want my advice,” Kieren pressed on, “you’d go find and talk to your commander immediately. I could fetch for him if you wish - I know where Amicio’s home is.”
Niche, through narrowed eyes and clenched teeth, acquiesced.
“Good, now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some letters to send,” she said, “of course, though this has earned you no small amount of displeasure from certain peoples, we’ve been instructed to provide you with house and board for as long as it takes to sort this out. You are still welcome guests and you will be treated as such.”
The tepid truce struck, the children were sent back up to their rooms. Sorore tried to sleep, and managed no more than half an hour before she was woken by her brother.
“The commander’s here,” he said, “he wants to talk to us.”
The commander, looking very tired, but light of step than Sorore had ever seen him, waited by the fire. He was talking with Kieren and the two remaining legionarries in the fast-paced trading tongue of the city, but stopped when he saw the girl come downstairs.
“My lady,” he said, “it seems there’s been a huge misunderstanding.”
She realized that it was his manner of dress which was throwing her off. Instead of his usual worn and thoroughly practical travelling clothes, he wore the long flowing silks of orange and cream. It suited him, matching his calm personality.
“What misunderstanding?” she said.
“Well, we had no idea that our own Aya was the granddaughter of Aystara Eisen herself. I was surprised as anyone. Of course, I knew she was an Eisen, from her mother.”
He looked at Kieren, who looked like she was about to fall asleep.
“But I never imagined that she was a direct descendent of the main house. I thought she was part of the branch, not necessary to cause any fuss, especially during the preparation of the festival. Ah!”
He slapped his head to indicate his shock at the realisation.
“What a terrible mistake I’ve made,” he said, patting the woman’s arm, “this is all on my horrendous lack of judgement. Here’s what’s going to happen, one of these gentlemen and trader Amicio will be vouching for me at the gate. I’m going to the Eisen estate and having a friendly chat with the matriarch, to clear up this misunderstanding.”
Sorore felt at last some suggestion that someone around the city knew what was happening and what they were going to do.
“Here’s what I need you and your brother to do,” Naia said, “I want you to wait and enjoy the hospitality of the madame of the house.”
The term seemed to flatter Kieren, who flushed at the complement. Or that might’ve been the drink, Sorore wasn’t entirely sure.
“Niche, you take care of them. I expect that I might be at the estate for the rest of the night, and possibly onto next afternoon. Things are always so chaotic around the Festival. There’s no reason for you not to attend the festival opening tomorrow, if you can.”
“You want us to attend a festival?” said Niche in disbelief, “right now?”
“Well, not right now, it hasn’t started yet,” said the commander, “but, if Kieren would graciouslly agree to take you as guest of honour, you’d have excellent seats. If that’s not too much to ask, especially after our little debacle.”
Kieren nodded, and affirmed that she wouldn’t mind at all, if the matter was going to be soon cleared up. Sorore was now certain that it wasn’t just alcohol.
“Great. You’re all taken care of, now I’d better explain myself. If you wouldn’t mind,” he said, pointing to the quarter full glass, which Kieren handed to him. The commander downed it all in one, rolled his shoulders, and smiled.
“Don’t worry. It’ll all work out in the end,” he said, “in fact, I would say to enjoy yourselves, as much as you can. And best go back to bed, unless you want to be sleeping during the festival, which, I assure you from experience, you do not.”
Before they could say anything, the commander had swept by them, vanishing out of the front of the pyramid.
“You should heed him,” said Kieren, picking up the decanter and the glass and moving towards the kitchens, “if you’re stuck here for the time being, you might as well enjoy it And that starts with getting good sleep.”
“Last time you said that, we woke up to armed guards,” Niche said flatly.
“Well, I assure you, I’m not boring enough to do that a second time. It would be assassin’s from across the streets, who approach over the rooftops.”
“Do they actually exist?” asked Frare, suddenly excited.
“Oh, I’m sure,” said Kieren as she stowed away her drinking equipment, “but not tonight. Go get some sleep sir paladin, and you two young ones as well. You’ll need it.”
Sorore was cajoled up the steps, Frare coming up after her. Niche seemed placated enough for the time being, though he was clearly unhappy with the outcome. The pleasant dreams neglected to revisit for a second time, but at least the sleep was uninterrupted. When Soroe next awoke, it was a young handmadein, pulling open the screen doors.
“Good morning, my lady,” she said, “how did you sleep?”
“I- well enough, I suppose,” she said, stretching and yawning, before quickly covering her mouth.
The maid had the presence of mind not to notice as she revealed the bright sunlight streaming through the open balcony.
“It must almost be midday!” Sorore exclaimed, leaping out of the bed as she tried to straighten herself.
The maid chuckled as she finished opening up the room.
“Not to fear, my lady,” she said, “it’s customary to sleep into the early afternoon. The Festival does not start until just before sunset, afterall. In fact, you might be earlier than many of the household.”
“Oh,” Soroe said, feeling rather foolish, “Um. Well, I guess I’ll get dressed.”
“Of course. I’ve left out some clothes for you. Madame Kieren suggested that you try clothes from our city. I hope you’ll love them. Do you bathe?”
Sorore wrinkled her nose at the prospect. What kind of question was that?
“Of course I do,” she said.
“Well, there’s a place to bath at the bottom of the pyramid. If you wish to bath alone, you should go now - I’ll bring you clothes for you to change at the waterfront.”
“You bathe together here?” Sorore said
“In the mornings and evenings,” she said, “we do not bring water up into the house if we cannot avoid it. To the stone goes the sea, and to the home goes the sky.”
She looked around, then leaned in with a smile.
“Also, water is very troublesome to carry up all those flights.”
“So just come down to the waterfront?” she said, gathering up what spare things she needed.
“Just follow me, my lady,” said the handmaiden, picking up a pile of clothes and leading her down the stairs.
They emerged onto an inset pool carved into the pyramid interior. A smooth stone deck, with benches and chairs and stacks of towels, as well as several large paper screens, presumably for changing. Sorore was glad to see they were alone, at least for the time being.
At the handmaid, Kiroe’s, direction, she stripped down naked and plunged into the pool. The water was a perfect temperature - cold enough to dispel the last of the grogginess, warm enough to be pleasant to float in. She swam around for a bit, constrained by the relatively small volume, while Kiroe prepared her outfit on the deck.
“Do you mind if I join you?” came a voice from the other end.
Kieren slipped out of a thin morning dress and stepped into the water. Sorore swam over and came to stand beside her.
“Is there any news? About Aya and the commander?” she said, a little too quickly.
Kieren, who’d been sinking into the water with a sigh of contentment, opened one eye.
“Straight to business? Perhaps you are better suited to the city than I thought.”
Sorore tried to smile, but her concern was betrayed, judging by the woman’s softening of expression.
“My knowledge is limited. My uncle is serving as our representative for now. Sounds like your commander was at least allowed to make his case to the Eisen. He made note of one other companion of yours.”
“Oh? Who?” she said, pushing out into the pool, feeling the water surge over her shoulders.
“A man in black clothes,” she said, “who hides his face behind a mask. He was there for the meeting.”
“The mage?” said Sorore, before considering that she maybe shouldn’t have mentioned it.
“A mage?” said Kieren, before submerging herself in the water.
She tossed her hair back as she came back up, spraying water in a neat arc.
“Well, that explains his odd demeanour,” she said, “now, regrettably, that’s all the time I have today for bathing. I will see you at the festival.”
“Hello cousin! May I join- oh,” came a voice from the steps leading out.
It was Ivers, dressed in nothing but a loose robe, which was already half-way off his body, sculpted with muscle from hauling rope and tackle. Sorore stifled a gasp and turned away, trying not to redden.
“I can come back later,” he offered.
“Do you mind?” Kieren said to Sorore, “if you do, it’d be best to finish soon and let others bathe.”
“No, no,” she said, waving her host away.
Kiero had warned her, after all. It would be best to become accustomed to the strange ways of this beautiful city. Besides, it’s not like she hadn’t bathed before in the company of men her age back home. She cursed herself for being so self-conscious, and forced herself to turn around.
“Are you sure? I can leave if you want, it’s not-” Ivers began.
“No, it’s fine. It’s fine,” Sorore said, smiling at him, “it’d be good to have companionship.”
“Well, then, Ivers, I trust you’ll behave yourself,” said Kieren rising from the water.
“Of course, cousin,” Ivers said, casting his eyes to the floor.
Sorore tried not to take a wicked pleasure at the blush that crept across his dark complexion.
“Oh, one more thing,” whispered her host, bending over to the girl, “it’s considered polite to not look when they’re outside the water.”
Kieren laughed at Sorore’s own furious blush as she made for one of the poolside changing screens.
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