I've had a Mora and Barrage fail on me from carving things. I haven't been able to find a fixie that seems just right and I've been looking. Closest I've come is a Kubey Dust Devil but I'm hearing stuff from both sides regarding quality and heat treat. The only reason I'm looking at fixies is because my Barrage got all kinds of wiggle in it from just EDC use. I don't want to lug around a prybar shaped knife like something from CS just for the lock because slicey is important. I'm lefty too so liner locks are stupid. I just want something not too high end, most likely chinese made, that is slicey but I can trust the lock for carving as much as possible. Thanks.

Ignoring tools like scythes and chisels, would a medieval peasant have had a "utility" knife? Would it have been iron or steel? How common were personal knives for regular people? Would a regular household have have just one knife for the kitchen, or many knives as tools?
(And, how has this changed through history in general: when do "household knives" become common?)

Hello everyone, I was wondering if anyone in here has any experience using a kukri as a bushcraft knife. I was recently gifted one and while it is nice, it isn't personalized or anything like that so I was thinking of taking it with me when I go out. It would really only be used to baton firewood which I think it would be okay at, with the curve probably making it a little awkward but not impossible to use, and clearing very minor brush. I tend to carve and stuff with my pocket knife so it wouldn't be used for that. Is there any reason why I shouldn't try it? As far as I understand it is somewhat of a fighting and ceremonial knife, but it seems really robust and I get the impression it could do some decent work on wood.

Hi guys, I'm new to writing, and I decided to write down how one of my villains got their powers. I should say this to preface, I'm not expecting this to be God tier writing, but I would love any and all criticism, how well it flows, quality of writing and descriptiveness, anything helps. Hope you enjoy.
One more thing, just to clarify, Anwir is the son of the earl Courtenay, he tried helping out the poor in his area, and got rejected due to bad history with the earl, this what happened shortly after attempting to take his life.
Amazing Grace:
Anwir limped along the dense thicket of the forest, with his foot dragging behind him, leaving a dull trail as it disturbed the dry, cracked earth beneath him. Anwir winces and groans in pain as foliage would brush against the noble’s tattered, burned clothing and disturb his wounds.
The food and clothing I’ve provided, the hospital I opened. Did it mean nothing to them?
Anwir thought to himself as he began to sob, the tears that streamed pricked and stung his open wounds. Anwir didn’t care, the mental pain was too great to keep bottled up.
“Over Here!! There is a small line heading this way!!”
Fear pierced through his heart as Anwir heard voices far off behind him. Anwir turned back and saw the faint light of torches making their way towards the disfigured noble, making his heart race faster, sweat dripping down his forehead. To Anwir’s horror, he realized that the peasants were not yet finished with him, they were not satisfied with tearing down burning everything he had given them, they wanted his blood. Quickly, Anwir decided to hide in a thick bush, he curls into a ball, and covers his head in his cloak. The setting sun’s lack of rays helped shroud the forest floor, helping cloak Anwir in the shadows of the forest.
“The bastard really thought he could escape us?”
As the footsteps neared Anwir’s location, a wave of dread swept over Anwir, it would be a miracle for Anwir to make it out with his life.
My Gods, haven’t I been punished enough? Please, spare me; I beg of you.
Anwir’s thoughts came to a halt as they arrived in proximity to his bush. Anwir launched one last prayer, and began to hold his breath, to minimize any sounds from him. The torchlights tore through any darkness the forest had to offer within a certain radius, voices and laughter could be heard all around him as they searched for him.
“Drinks for a week when we hang the wretch!”
“I call dibs on his trinkets! They’re mine!”
“No way he didn’t see this coming, did the Courtenay’s really think we’d fall for their deceit again?”
Torchlights reached their peak, Anwir could see wispy, menacing shadows dance across his bush, twigs and leaves snapping at a consistent rate. Anwir’s heart sank, he had nowhere left to run, nowhere to hide, if they found him, his fate would be sealed. Time seemed to stand still as Anwir could hear the voices and footsteps begin to recede, continuing forward ahead of him. Too afraid to come out, Anwir stayed for several more moments, before finally crawling out of the bush. Nothing but silence, save for the odd scurrying of a critter, or the flap of wings from a bird. Stunned by their words and death threats, Anwir mindlessly hobbled through the foliage, he wouldn’t react to the pain anymore, for their words had stung deeper than any blade or wound could. Although Anwir is a Courtenay, he is not his father, he only wanted help those he could for the peasants who faced constant injustice, and this was his thanks? As Anwir reached a clearing, he stopped to gaze at the sunset, taking in its final rays before it disappeared into the night.
Beautiful as always. I should take in what little I can, for I may not live to see the dawn press her lips against the earth once more.
Anwir stood there and gazed as the great ball of fire descended into nothing. Swallowed up by the darkness, Anwir stumbles around, grabbing leaves and soft brush to lie on. The constant, searing pain flares whenever Anwir bends down or makes sudden movements, causing his eyes to glisten as tears would form. Biting his lower lip, he slowly squats down, evenly spreading his findings beneath a tree, and lies down. The son of Lord Courtenay expected to hear silence and was surprised to hear the opposite. The pitter patter of critters could be heard all around him, rustling the leaves that littered the forest floor. Howls could be heard reciprocated in the distance, and the continuous buzz of insects was everywhere.
Its…peaceful. If only my situation could allow me to enjoy this in its entirety.
Anwir succumbed to the pulsating pain, and closed his eyes, uncertain of what the dawn may bring.
____________
As a new day began, the dawn touched the sky leaving its golden rays streaked upon the earth’s ever reaching cerulean canvas, poking through the thin wispy clouds that lay scattered across the sky. Birds all across the woodland landscape sang praise in honor of the dawn. Tiny creatures of the woodland floor hopped and crawled about the dew-covered ground, imprinting their tiny feet upon the earth’s moist soil. Crawling in and around his hair, up and down his neck, and flittering in and out of Anwir’s clothing, he was given a rude awakening when a small millipede attempted to crawl into his damp mouth, seeking food.
“Arrgh!”
Anwir swiped away the multi legged freak, and got on his knees, weaving his encrusted, scarred hands through his matted and knotted hair. Anwir took hold of his ragged, grimy overcoat, and ripped it off, he brushed off various creepy crawlies meandering across his singed torso, some even feasting on his mottled dead skin. Picking up his overcoat, he violently shook it, a shower of bugs rained to the ground. After slipping his coat over himself again Anwir lifted his left leg, he tore off his crisped shoe, and shook out the bugs that had once claimed it and did the same for his right. Searing pain shot through his body, his muscles and torso screaming at him as he lifted himself from the ground. Anwir couldn’t remember a time when he had felt anything like this. Anwir scanned his surroundings, and laid his eyes upon a small, unassuming plant. No more than a foot tall, with several small bundles of jet-black berries with small beads of water clinging to its dark exterior. Desperate for anything, Anwir bent down and grabbed the top of the plant and reached inside his pocket only to find his hand protruding through a small hole.
Will nothing be in my favor from now on?
With his knife gone, Anwir made do with placing his hand at the base of the plant, and yanking it from the ground. Shoving the fruit inside his mouth, the purple juices flowing down his chin, further staining his already soiled shirt as he chews furiously. Swallowing and reaching for more, Anwir puts the cluster of berries into his mouth and chews slower this time. Taking his time to savor the juicy, tart flavor the berries provided. Never did he believe that something as simple as fruit could be so inviting. Anwir tossed the remainder of the plant to the ground, and scanned his surroundings, attempting to determine his next move. It was through the plants and trees hindering his sight that Anwir found his next goal. In the middle of a clearing, Anwir could make out a well. Anwir trudged along towards the edge of the forest that led to the clearing, pushing and moving through any plants that made contact with his broken and charred body, his muscles and body voicing their complaints with every limp and accidental contact the Courtenay took and had respectively.
Perhaps I spoke too soon.
Stumbling through the dense overgrowth, Anwir breached the forest’s edge and found himself in a clearing. The sun’s rays were shown in full force, thanks to the lack of trees blocking its path. Small shrubs and minor vegetation littering the clearing. As Anwir inched his way closer to the well, the woodland’s tiny inhabitants took notice of him. Some simply gazed at him with their heads poking through the shrubbery, others would flee in fear of a perceived threat. Anwir smiled at this, knowing he is the least of their worries.
Just how exactly old is this well? Is there even any water?
The aged well had a stone base, its bricks weathered by time and nature, patches of glistening dark green moss strewn all around the base, topped off with a gray, porous ridden wellhead. A gray, rusted bucket, hung on a tarnished iron hook. Anwir leaned his body over the edge of the well, and laid eyes with the bottom. Darkness. A pure, undisturbed abyss was all that stared back at him, not even the slight reflection of water could be seen. Taken aback, and even a bit scared, Anwir took the bucket, and tossed it into the well. for a second, nothing happened, until an audible splash was heard, confirming the presence of water. It was at this moment that Anwir noticed the eerie silence of the clearing and the forest that surrounded it. No longer had he heard birds sing, nor the flap of their wings, the rustle of leaves and brush was nowhere to be heard either. A shiver went down the unsuspecting noble’s spine, before drawing the bucket, he surveyed the clearing. Nothing. Anwir saw nothing but greenery as far as the eye could see. As Anwir drew the bucket up from the depths of the well, a sudden chill ran down his spine, sending a shiver through his entire body. The eerie silence of the clearing heightened his senses, making him acutely aware of his surroundings. With a trembling hand, he grasped the handle of the bucket tightly, preparing to lift it out of the darkness below. Before he could fully pull the bucket out, a horrifying sight greeted him. A grotesque clawed hand shot up from the depths of the well, its twisted fingers reaching out towards Anwir with malicious intent. Anwir's heart pounded in his chest as fear gripped him, paralyzing his muscles.
He stumbled backward, falling to the ground in terror, his eyes wide with horror as he watched the demonic creature emerge from the depths. His mind raced with thoughts of escape, but his body refused to obey, leaving him helpless against the approaching menace.
Before he could fully pull the bucket out, a horrifying sight greeted him. A grotesque, sinewy arm shot up from the abyss of the well, its twisted fingers cupping the edge in an attempt to free itself. The wellhead splintered into pieces as the long, crooked being pulled itself out. Anwir's heart pounded in his chest as fear gripped him, paralyzing his muscles. He stumbled backward, falling to the ground in terror, his eyes wide with horror as he watched the demonic creature emerge from the depths. His mind raced with thoughts of escape, but his body refused to obey, leaving him helpless against the approaching menace. But then to Anwir's astonishment, the creature spoke. Its voice was dark and sinister.
"I thank you, friend" it hissed, its red eyes gleaming with malevolence. "I have been trapped there for what seems like an eternity"
The tall, crooked being began to stand up, its feet slowly sinking into the mud beneath him. The crooked being set his sight on his savior.
"by the looks of you, you're a noble, yet your clothing is in disrepair." The Crooked Man
stepped closer to Anwir, to get a closer look "Ahh, I see now, Courtenay's son. What are you doing here? Who did this to you?"
The Crooked Man offered hand to the Noble's son, but Anwir, still processing the events, said nothing. The Crooked Man lowered his eyes.
"Have you no words? Son of Courtenay?"
Finally coming to his senses, Anwir stood up, and backed away several feet.
"I-I-I did this to myself. No one else."
Faster than the eye could see, The Crooked Man grabbed Anwir by the throat, and pulled him closer to his face.
"Foolish Courtenay. Lie to me again, and I'll cut out your stomach and feed it to you."
"The...peasants I...Was attempting to h...Help." Anwir said, his body screaming for air.
The Crooked Man chuckled and put down Anwir.
"So, the poor Son of Courtenay attempted to play savior, and paid dearly for it."
Anwir, still apprehensive of the Man asked him "Who are you? Why were you in there?"
"I am your savior, and that is my business alone." The Crooked Man reached a hand out to Anwir "Allow me to give you a gift, so to speak. A chance to punish your tormentors."
Anwir eyed the hand, not sure what his offer entailed "In exchange for what? How will I know that you won't bend me to your will?
The Crooked Man smiled "I have no intention of doing such things to you, for I merely want to repay a debt I owe you. So...What is your answer?”
Temptation swirled in Anwir, a part of him wanted to take his offer, but a small part in his heart held out.
"No, they don't deserve death, nor punishment, they knew not what they did."
The Crooked Man bellowed a raspy, malicious laugh "The flames of their hatred mark your body, singe your soul, and yet...You still defend them? You are one of a kind, Courtenay."
The Crooked Man begins to hack, and spits out a small black stone "Take this, Courtenay. If you seek your revenge, crush this stone in your hand, and eat its dust."
The Crooked Man handed him the stone and crouched down. His back was bulging, the Man began to shriek, his piercing cry so loud, that Anwirs ears were ringing. Flesh tears, blood splatters everywhere as The Crooked Man's wings sprouted from his back, and he began to stand.
"Tell no one of our encounter, Courtenay."
With those final words, The Crooked Man took his leave, laughing maniacally as he flew upwards, staining the sky with his presence.

For anyone who missed how this started
https://www.reddit.com/HFY/s/PxAkXKR0aH
I didn’t expect so many people out there would care about what’s happening to me. I’d say it’s humbling, but, well, my situation has been humbling me since I left the states. You guys cheering me on, and trying to help, it’s kept me going though.
So, I figure the least I can do is keep you all updated until something prevents me from doing so. Likely in a permanent fashion.
I'll say, the ride home was awkward, to say the least. For all of the grim predictions running through my head going to the spectacle , on the way back they were ten times worse.
I wasn’t caged, shackled and tortured when I returned. If I said I was greeted with concern by the handful of distant relatives and lost souls I’d be over exaggerating. But there was a bit of respect and kindness .
I was patched up, as far as being stabbed goes, apparently I got lucky.
There was food, question free beer, and a healthy number of people asking how things went.
All I wanted to do was sleep, but something kept me going. Kept me answering questions I’d rather not have, kept my fear fried brain making conversation and trading verbal jabs.
A tap on my shoulder startles me, the sun is rising and if I don’t get to sleep soon, I’m going to fall over.
“Your half. “ Sylvia says, it’s just shy of a thousand pounds.
“All this was for, what is this? $600 American? “ I say.
“ Walk with me. “ Sylvia begins, I follow.
“Money isn’t much good if I’m dead. “ I say, my tone sullen and exasperated.
“Then don’t die. “ She replies, walking across the debris strewn scrub grass toward the farm house.
“Do you have any shame? You kidnapped me in the middle of the night to feed me to a couple of demons. I’m your nephew for Christ’s sake! “ I’m not yelling, I don’t think my body is capable of that much exertion at this point, but my words are clear.
“I’m not your aunt, Nikolas.
Great-Great-Great grandmother, give or take a generation. It’s been a long time.
And if I was doing, as you suggest, yes, I would feel a deep shame.” Sylvia lets the answers and questions ferment in my mind as we walk.
“So why not tell me what’s going on? Maybe teach me some of that magic you were tossing around at the airport. “ we stop outside a sliding door. Sylvia has a genuine look of amusement on her face.
“Magic? Nikolas, magic is what stupid people call being fooled.
Magic is the Priest’s sermon, the fortune teller’s reading, the huckster’s pitch.
It’s a way to create vast amounts of power from nothing.
The world is full of things that defy the laws of nature. What I do, what those of the family with me do, is understand them. We learn, we improvise, and we adapt.
We do not make power from nothing, we find it, and use it. “ Sylvia watches me, judging my response to her statement.
“So that’s what you meant before. About the trappings of the gypsy. This whole vibe, it’s a smokescreen.
Assholes expect the Gritts to be some Romani stereotype, and give you a wide berth. When strange shit happens, they chalk it up to some kind of con, or something they’ve seen in a movie. Either way, they aren’t looking for monster fights, and supernatural research. “ I know I’m in the ballpark when she pats me on the shoulder hard enough to hurt.
“And the value of your half, is somewhere around 30 thousand. We wager in esoteric items, favors, and creatures. When you leave, I’ll make you a fair offer for what is yours.
You’ll understand more in the morning after you have a chance to look around. “ Sylvia says before showing me a sparse, but clean, and comfortable room.
I wake up in the early afternoon, something, beyond the obvious nagging at me.
After a cup of nearly caustic tea, I finally realized what it was.
Sylvia, she told me a lot last night. But many of my questions were avoided. I know about her, and this place, but my fate, beyond another round of tug of war between two nightmares, is unknown.
That being said, my second conclusion, is that I need to start rolling with the punches. I’ve tried calling the police (they asked how Sylvia was doing before I said my name.), my parents, anyone, and like it or not, for one unsaid reason or another, I’m stuck here.
I’m going to skip a lot of introductions. Reading me introducing myself, 50 times and trying not to be awkward around folks that seem way too okay with me dying, probably wouldn’t be the best use of your time.
As I explore the grounds, I enter one of a handful of old barns. The inside has peg board walls hung with tools spanning the spectrum from mundane to esoteric enough I have no idea what they are.
Inside, among benches strewn with a random assortment of objects, and equipment, stand two men.
The first is Colin, he’s pale as a ghost, eyes bloodshot and sleep deprived, he wears an Aerosmith shirt, and toolbelt that is making his pants lose a battle with gravity. The 40 something is holding an electrode connected to a thick, black wire directly patched into the main breaker.
The second, Dafyd is a short, olive skinned man in his mid fifties. His outfit consists of a tweed jacket, blue jeans and plain white shirt.
Between them on a grounded workbench sits a small snow globe, within stands a faded ballerina, one arm lost, floating randomly through the liquid.
My teeth ache as the breaker begins to make a dangerous humming noise. For a couple of seconds, a short blue spark arcs from the electrode to the snow globe.
The air smells of ozone to the point where I’m convinced I’ve burned out my nose hairs. The two men argue a bit between themselves in a language I’ve heard but never learned to speak. Then turn as they notice me.
“Nik, come settle an argument between your uncle and I. “ Dafyd says.
“Don’t know how much help I’m going to be, but I’ll do my best. “ I say, walking up.
“The kid has no idea what’s going on Dafyd. “ Colin says.
“I know, but we’re not looking for an expert opinion.
Nik, what year is it? “ Dafyd asks.
“1993.” I say without hesitation, “ What the hell? “ I add. My brain is a bit fried, but not enough to screw up the date by 30 something years.
“God damn it. “ Colin says.
“I knew it! “ exclaims Dafyd.
“This piece of shit is getting binned.
You look confused kid.
It’s called a gimmick. It’s the stuff side of what we deal in. Some of it, it’s two steps off of a horror novel. Most of it though, it’s just strange.
Figuring them out is 95% engineering and 5% esoterica.
They teaching you anything across the pond? “ Colin asks.
The question leads to a conversation, the conversation leads to a week of me shadowing the two finicky, strange guys.
I’d go into more detail, but as the days go by, things seem more and more like spending time with some out there branches in the family tree. As terrifying as everything has been, as terrifying as it is, it’s, interesting.
But I wouldn’t be writing if things were sunshine and roses though, would I?
One day, after working with objects that scared, confused and frustrated me in equal measure, I realized there was something I was avoiding.
So I found myself standing in front of Augustus, the creature held upright and immobile in it’s coffin-like cage. The Plexiglas window is cracked.
It's worse than I thought it would be. Every time I look at the thing’s face I see the blood it made me spill. I see the power it wields, and the murderous intent in it’s twisted pit of a mind.
But sometime soon, I’m going to be next to it again. I have to be able to keep myself together. I have to understand this thing as much as I can.
“Hey killer, how the fuck ya Doin? “ Augustus taunts. Shame reddens my fear paled face.
“Can we talk? “ I say, I want it to be a demand, it comes out as a whimper.
“What do we have to talk about, bud? What about this are you not picking up on yet? “ Augustus is smug, confident even while confined.
“How you seem to have this limitless ego, when you're being held by literally the oldest woman possible. “ I’m too scared to say this above a whisper.
“That dusty old wizard’s sleeve out there? She’ll fucking get hers.
Lucky bitch on a lucky day is all that was.
But luck runs out, and when it does, I’m gonna uproot your entire sad little family tree. “ Augustus threatens.
I actually take a step backward, and almost turn. The fear this thing causes, it’s more than the knowledge of what it can do, it’s a force in and of itself.
“Augustus, why not hear me out? “ I plead.
“Because kid, that’s not how this story goes.
I’ve got nothing but time, I’ll be around till the heat death of the fucking universe.
I don’t need to hear things like you out, I don’t need to bargain. No matter how airtight your inbred little clan thinks these bonds are, eventually, someone always makes a mistake. Something small, like a wrong angle on a rune.
Or…, “ as the thing talks, the door to the coffin like cage holding it starts to slowly swing outward, “ Something big, like forgetting to set the fucking padlock. “
I’m already running as he talks, but he’s standing in front of the exit before I can take a step.
He looms in front of the door, coat spreading, seemingly of it’s own accord, making the patchwork killer seem like some kind of twisted manta ray.
He locks eyes with me, I’m frozen, gripped in terror so intense I have no idea if it’s mundane or the aura of fear Augustus projects.
Those mismatched orbs burrow into me, I feel like this thing can see into my soul.
He inhales for an impossibly long time, a slick, menacing grin spreading across his leathery face.
“Yeah, today’s the day kid.” He says, a kick sending me across the floor like a smooth rock across the surface of a pond.
I’ve never felt pain like this, I try to stand, but my knee refuses to bend. I hit the ground and my ribs scream, I’m sure at least one was broken in the tumble.
I hear Augustus’ footsteps, my struggles to get to my feet are useless. Seconds in, i’m in literal crippling pain.
He grabs me by the throat, taking his time as he raises me above his head.
The look of joy on his face as I choke and struggle to breathe twists his features, for a moment he appears nearly snakelike.
He holds the tips of his claw-like nails against my stomach. Then draws his arm back.
“Don’t worry bud, I’m not just going to tear out your heart, everyone does that shit.
This isn’t going to be a sprint, it’s a fucking marathon. I just want to aerate the track a little bit before we start. “ His hand blurs and I close my eyes hoping I don’t last very long.
“Stop” I hear a deep, smooth, male voice say.
I hit the ground, and try to see who just stopped the beginning of my execution, but the pain, the cracked ribs, pulled muscles and long ragged scrapes have me seeing spots.
When my vision clears, I see a tall, blond man with impossibly angular features, dressed in an immaculate black and mauve suit.
His eyes try to look kind, but there is something wrong behind them. Something waiting to be let out.
“Who are you? “ I say, one lip, split and torn.
“You can call me Art. Arthur Deus if you feel like being formal.
But what you want to know, is why I’m here.
Well Nikolas, to simplify things, think of me as the older brother of the leering terror your ‘aunt’ has trapped here. “ As Arthur talks, I notice something, the motes of dust in the air are hanging still.
“I have no problems with you taking him. I haven’t seen you, I don’t know your name. Couldn’t stop you if I wanted to. “ I ramble.
Arthur holds up a finger, I go silent.
“If only it were that easy.
See Nikolas, your aunt and I, have quite the history. And as much as it pains me to admit it, she’s a crafty one, and has the means to make things very difficult for me.
Sylvia cannot know I’m involved, this is why I have an offer for you. “ As art says this, he waves a hand, almost dismissively.
Like a switch being flipped my pain stops, I watch as my wounds begin to seal and fade, amazed.
“What is it? “ I say. The words feel like they have weight.
“Sylvia is looking for someone to take over for her. As old as she is, she’s not immortal.
You’re her third attempt.
I’m not going to lie to you and say I care about what’s happening to the humans involved in this grim little spectacle. But I care about my family, and to a lesser extent, those like myself.
This bloodsport that your aunt is a part of, it’s vile. It’s world spanning, and it’s for nothing more than greed and bragging rights.
I want to change this. And I would like you to help me. “ Art’s tone is slick and confident.
“If I do, then you get him to back off? “ I say, pointing to Augustus.
Art looks dismayed for a moment.
“That’s not something I can really promise Nikolas. If anything could force him to listen to reason, he wouldn’t be in this situation in the first place. “ My heart sinks as Art says this.
“Fuck off Art. “ Augustus says.
Arthur rolls his eyes. They seem to go just a little too far back.
“But what I can do, is have a conversation with him, impress upon him how important it is he works with you. “ Art pats me on the shoulder before turning toward his sibling. His hand is impossibly hot.
“This kid dies, that is not my fault. You’ve seen this shit, he’s not built for it, just bust me out of here. “ Augustus isn’t far off of pleading in his tone.
“You know that’s not possible. I cannot let Sylvia know I’m here. But given time, I will have you out. “ Art assures.
“Fact remains, this kid gets on the wrong side of a blade or a fuckin, werewolf or something, that’s not on me.
Even if he manages to keep his lungs in his chest, look at him. His mind is cracking, he’s either insane or God-damned, catatonic in two months. “ Now Augustus sounds like a cocky piece of shit again.
“Of course, if he dies, or succumbs mentally, that’s not on you.
But I want you, to make a promise to me. I want you to understand that this child cannot be harmed by your hand. “ It sounds like Art is talking to a five year old.
Augustus shrugs before replying.
“The fuck you want me to say? You know me, you know I can’t say I’m not hurting this kid. And I sure as hell am not making a promise about it so you can get you-know-who involved when nature takes it’s course.
Fuck this kid, get me out of here.”
Arthur sighs and turns from Augustus , walking to me.
“Nikolas, I have something to tell you. “ He says, there’s a gravity to his tone that clearly makes Augustus uncomfortable.
“Art, what are you doing? “ The Trenchcoat wearing creature asks.
Art kneels bringing himself eye to eye with me.
“Don’t do this. “ Augustus says.
“Then promise. “ Art replies, a few seconds of silence go by, “ As you can see, I cannot guarantee your safety Nikolas.
But, for his own good, I want to tell you a word, one that will make my myopic brother look at things a little differently, if the need arises.
I’d use it sparingly, it’s not meant for those like yourself. It will have a physical, mental and spiritual toll. But it might spare you the worst of his excesses. “
That word was the last thing Arthur said to me. With a staggering, disorienting lurch, time began to move forward.
It kept moving forward for the next month.
I learned a lot over that time, but, not what you might expect.
As it turns out, there is a hell of a lot more engineering, physics, and chemistry involved in working with the supernatural than, summoning circles and newt eyes.
But eventually, the day I was dreading came.
The venue was a strip club of all places, a massive building, on the outskirts of Norwich, gaudy neon lights illuminate a place that, unlike the theme restaurant, seems to be in active use.
There was a different ambiance this time. The folks milling around the rune etched Lucite box seemed more sedate, and a hell of a lot richer.
The lighting was professional, driving music sets a professional sports tone.
This time I walk in the cage of my own accord. It’s not pride, or bravery, but simply knowing, I have no choice.
The roar of the crowd stokes my fear as Augustus slowly opens the door of his coffin-like vessel.
He loves the attention, his grin both horrifying and genuine.
“Guess we’re in the big leagues now, eh, killer? “ Augustus prods.
I’m sweating. I’ve cut a little weight over the past month, unintentionally, but as I wonder what horror is going to come walking in the other side of this cage. I don’t think being in marginally better shape and having a working knowledge of basic engineering is going to do me a lot of good.
Suddenly the crowd is silent, lights illuminate a spot at the far end of the massive Lucite box.
She’s small, slight, and has grey, lifeless skin. Her eyes are massive, her body beautiful, but exaggerated to the point of looking cartoonish. She’s not wearing much, a small t-shirt and what I’ll generously call a bikini bottom.
Beside her is a massive, brick slab of a man, late twenties or early thirties. His eyes are wild, he’s covered in layers of scars, and burns. He wears an old, worn prison uniform that’s never seen a washing machine.
He matches her strange, boneless stride, with a loping wolf-like gait.
“Entering the ring, you know her, you love her. She’s the Vixen of the void, The Nymph of nothing, Norwich’s own, ‘Sweet’ Francis Anne!
And at her side, brought in at great expense from the land of Twinkies, cheeseburgers and weak beer, The Corps Killer, the Military Mangler, with 24 out of ring kills and 36 in, ‘Big’ Billy Speck! “ an announcer screams.
The crowd bursts into life, noise shakes the walls of the cage.
“And, on the other side, I don’t know, some wanker in a Trenchcoat, and a kid that isn’t even old enough to be here. Let’s watch them die. “ He finishes.
Augustus looks enraged, his teeth chatter, he flexes his clawed hands. I walk in his shadow as he advances to face the creature and her second.
“I know you! “ The grey skinned thing says, her voice high pitched. As she speaks I notice what appears to be a thick scar bisecting her from forehead to stomach.
“Never heard of you. Neither will anyone else after this. “ Augustus says with a grin.
“You’re the runt of the litter right? Royal blood but peasant flesh, that’s what they say, no? “ Francis says, she grins a toothless smile. The inside of her mouth, a black void.
“Fuck my family. What I am is as good as meat gets. I give myself power, all you have is a cosmic std. “ Augustus stares Francis down as he talks.
Francis reacts with nothing more than a coy look. Bill stares down at me, the handle of some large blade sticking out of his right pocket, and a short length of chain wrapped around his left forearm.
A buzzer cuts through the roar of the crowd, the world seems to consist of nothing more than myself and the horrors around me as the timer begins to count down.
Like a flash Augustus leaps at Francis, but her body stretches and contorts as she moves, he never gets close.
I tear myself away from the clash of unnatural creatures as I look to the mutilated killer in front of me.
I didn’t come in unarmed, but I also was expecting another kid. And wanted to avoid what happened last time if at all possible. My heart races as I pull the small black can from the pocket of my worn, grey hoodie.
For a second I feel like a badass. I’ve got the can of mace aimed and spraying before Bill can react.
Four seconds tick by before the can is empty, Bill is soaked in thick yellow liquid, it runs down his face like tears.
The psycho doesn’t even blink.
“You good? “ he asks before slapping my outstretched arm aside and shattering my nose with a backhanded blow that seemed almost an afterthought.
Augustus screams in frustration, moving faster than I can track, but not able to put a scratch on the amorphous, rubbery woman.
Bill uncoils the chain, and I feel a sudden deep, crushing pain in my chest. I stumble backward, coughing. He laughs and whips the chain out again, I manage to see the next blow, but have no way of stopping it.
He manages to hit the same spot, the pain is overwhelming, my lungs feel bruised, I can’t breathe.
Francis seems to have grown bored avoiding Augustus, he pants, sucking wind as she stands in front of him.
That scar splits, not fully, but from forehead to the bridge of her nose. What’s behind it, is nothing.
I mean that in terms so literal, I can’t describe how it looked. It was more of a feeling that a sight. Looking into it, made me understand just how empty something can actually be.
Pieces of Augustus’ skin and flesh begin to, simply not exist. His look of confusion lasts for about a second before he’s sent sailing through the air by a long, whip-like arm.
The trenchcoat clad creature extracts himself from a tangled mess of tables, chairs and debris. Francis and Bill laugh, mocking us.
“Let’s trade dance partners” Augustus says, his two handed shove launching my broken body into Francis.
She catches me, her body absorbing the impact.
Fear is making me hyperventilate, physical trauma is turning that into a wheezing pant that feels like being waterboarded.
Francis looks down at me, violence and seduction in her eyes.
“Make things easy for me and I’ll let you go out with a bang. “ She says, the look of carnal violence on her face makes me gag.
Augustus struggles with Bill, the creatures wounds many and severe.
A minute remains, but I don’t know if I can last another ten seconds.
Francis stretches one arm into a thin tendril, it begins to circle me, caging me into a progressively smaller area.
“I’m sixteen, you paranormal nonce. “ I blurt out, the pain from my broken nose almost making me pass out, “ That’s the word they use around here, right? For the kind of creep that gets supernatural powers to hit on a kid? “
I can’t run, I can’t fight, all I can do is try to distract this thing for another 42 seconds.
Her face begins to turn, shifting and warping into something resembling a cattle skull more than a person.
The wet snapping noise distracts both Francis and myself.
Augustus has his hand buried in the chest of the convict, he holds the man aloft for a moment.
Augustus says something in a language I can’t even guess at, and with one fluid motion tears the black, decayed heart from his own chest and replaces it with that of the killer.
He begins to scream, then laugh, wounds spraying ichor, he seems to swell, his face a mask of pleasure and Ill intent.
“Death machine just needed a new engine. “ Augustus says with a cackle.
Francis forgets about me and lashes out, quite literally, at Augustus. Limbs becoming a frenzied blur of snaking flesh, , destroying anything they so much as graze.
He wades into the storm, flirting around the edges of the cage, making her chase him with the lethal limbs.
The conflict is a blur, but at the 23 second mark I see it. As much as I hate the prick, I’m almost impressed.
She’s tangled, somewhere among the bent stripper poles, and doorways to private booths, She’s caught herself.
Augustus takes his time now, her body is stretched thin, looped around door handles and under stages.
Ten seconds left, Augustus is feet from her writhing, blob-like form. Her features pulled taught enough to be nearly non-existent.
“Takes a lot to open yourself up doesn’t it? “ Augustus says, kneeling, he holds the killer’s knife in one hand, “ Why don’t I do it for you? “
The blade is barely touching her flesh as the timer ends.
“Fuck’s sake! “ Augustus says, standing, and letting the knife fall to the floor.
Something about the way he walks to one end of the Lucite cage worries me.
“Nobody likes a draw, but as far as they go, that was one hell of a kiss to your sister, wasn’t it folks?
No one is defeating our lovely lady of legend, but let’s hear it for the man who tried… Trenchcoat! “ The announcer screams over the loudspeaker.
The crowd is on their feet, bets are being paid out, and two groups of people are trying to open doors conveniently barred by flesh no person is going to get through.
I jog up to him, my body screaming at me every step of the way. He taps along one clear wall.
“Cheap runes. “ Augustus says, before driving his fist like a spear through the Lucite.
The hole he makes is about the size of a watermelon, his hand easily going through all six inches of the wall.
But it’s not big enough to accommodate the body of the poor twenty something he drags through.
In an instant the man is flensed, his small bones broken, eyes, ears and jaw, nothing more than a smear.
But he’s still alive, wailing a haunting death bellow as he struggles to understand what just happened.
“Stop! “ I scream, horrified. Blood sprays from my ruined nose, “You think I won’t say it? “
Augustus slowly cocks his head, punching his fist through the wall again, and tossing another victim beside the first.
“In front of your family, and that aunt of yours? You think this is bad? The shit she’ll do to you if she knows you even looked at my Dangerous Brothers looking prick of a brother will make this look like a massage.” Trenchcoat pauses, letting the reality sink in, letting my absolute lack of power envelop me like a blanket, “ You want me to stop? I’ll give you something no one else has, a choice.
Either finish one of these pieces of meat off, or, have a taste. “
He brings his hand back for another strike, and I make my choice.
No, I’m not telling you which one. I can share a lot of things with you guys. But, I’m sorry, how I picked to save the rest of the people in that place is a shame I’m going to carry on my own.
Don’t know if any of you will want to hear from me again, after knowing what I’ve had to do, who I’ve had to deal with, but I’m going to keep posting. This is getting nothing but worse, and maybe, I can save someone else the same fate.

For anyone who missed how this started.
https://www.reddit.com/nosleep/s/8Gy9JbmUVC
I didn’t expect so many people out there would care about what’s happening to me. I’d say it’s humbling, but, well, my situation has been humbling me since I left the states. You guys cheering me on, and trying to help, it’s kept me going though.
So, I figure the least I can do is keep you all updated until something prevents me from doing so. Likely in a permanent fashion.
I'll say, the ride home was awkward, to say the least. For all of the grim predictions running through my head going to the spectacle , on the way back they were ten times worse.
I wasn’t caged, shackled and tortured when I returned. If I said I was greeted with concern by the handful of distant relatives and lost souls I’d be over exaggerating. But there was a bit of respect and kindness .
I was patched up, as far as being stabbed goes, apparently I got lucky.
There was food, question free beer, and a healthy number of people asking how things went.
All I wanted to do was sleep, but something kept me going. Kept me answering questions I’d rather not have, kept my fear fried brain making conversation and trading verbal jabs.
A tap on my shoulder startles me, the sun is rising and if I don’t get to sleep soon, I’m going to fall over.
“Your half. “ Sylvia says, it’s just shy of a thousand pounds.
“All this was for, what is this? $600 American? “ I say.
“ Walk with me. “ Sylvia begins, I follow.
“Money isn’t much good if I’m dead. “ I say, my tone sullen and exasperated.
“Then don’t die. “ She replies, walking across the debris strewn scrub grass toward the farm house.
“Do you have any shame? You kidnapped me in the middle of the night to feed me to a couple of demons. I’m your nephew for Christ’s sake! “ I’m not yelling, I don’t think my body is capable of that much exertion at this point, but my words are clear.
“I’m not your aunt, Nikolas.
Great-Great-Great grandmother, give or take a generation. It’s been a long time.
And if I was doing, as you suggest, yes, I would feel a deep shame.” Sylvia lets the answers and questions ferment in my mind as we walk.
“So why not tell me what’s going on? Maybe teach me some of that magic you were tossing around at the airport. “ we stop outside a sliding door. Sylvia has a genuine look of amusement on her face.
“Magic? Nikolas, magic is what stupid people call being fooled.
Magic is the Priest’s sermon, the fortune teller’s reading, the huckster’s pitch.
It’s a way to create vast amounts of power from nothing.
The world is full of things that defy the laws of nature. What I do, what those of the family with me do, is understand them. We learn, we improvise, and we adapt.
We do not make power from nothing, we find it, and use it. “ Sylvia watches me, judging my response to her statement.
“So that’s what you meant before. About the trappings of the gypsy. This whole vibe, it’s a smokescreen.
Assholes expect the Gritts to be some Romani stereotype, and give you a wide berth. When strange shit happens, they chalk it up to some kind of con, or something they’ve seen in a movie. Either way, they aren’t looking for monster fights, and supernatural research. “ I know I’m in the ballpark when she pats me on the shoulder hard enough to hurt.
“And the value of your half, is somewhere around 30 thousand. We wager in esoteric items, favors, and creatures. When you leave, I’ll make you a fair offer for what is yours.
You’ll understand more in the morning after you have a chance to look around. “ Sylvia says before showing me a sparse, but clean, and comfortable room.
I wake up in the early afternoon, something, beyond the obvious nagging at me.
After a cup of nearly caustic tea, I finally realized what it was.
Sylvia, she told me a lot last night. But many of my questions were avoided. I know about her, and this place, but my fate, beyond another round of tug of war between two nightmares, is unknown.
That being said, my second conclusion, is that I need to start rolling with the punches. I’ve tried calling the police (they asked how Sylvia was doing before I said my name.), my parents, anyone, and like it or not, for one unsaid reason or another, I’m stuck here.
I’m going to skip a lot of introductions. Reading me introducing myself, 50 times and trying not to be awkward around folks that seem way too okay with me dying, probably wouldn’t be the best use of your time.
As I explore the grounds, I enter one of a handful of old barns. The inside has peg board walls hung with tools spanning the spectrum from mundane to esoteric enough I have no idea what they are.
Inside, among benches strewn with a random assortment of objects, and equipment, stand two men.
The first is Colin, he’s pale as a ghost, eyes bloodshot and sleep deprived, he wears an Aerosmith shirt, and toolbelt that is making his pants lose a battle with gravity. The 40 something is holding an electrode connected to a thick, black wire directly patched into the main breaker.
The second, Dafyd is a short, olive skinned man in his mid fifties. His outfit consists of a tweed jacket, blue jeans and plain white shirt.
Between them on a grounded workbench sits a small snow globe, within stands a faded ballerina, one arm lost, floating randomly through the liquid.
My teeth ache as the breaker begins to make a dangerous humming noise. For a couple of seconds, a short blue spark arcs from the electrode to the snow globe.
The air smells of ozone to the point where I’m convinced I’ve burned out my nose hairs. The two men argue a bit between themselves in a language I’ve heard but never learned to speak. Then turn as they notice me.
“Nik, come settle an argument between your uncle and I. “ Dafyd says.
“Don’t know how much help I’m going to be, but I’ll do my best. “ I say, walking up.
“The kid has no idea what’s going on Dafyd. “ Colin says.
“I know, but we’re not looking for an expert opinion.
Nik, what year is it? “ Dafyd asks.
“1993.” I say without hesitation, “ What the hell? “ I add. My brain is a bit fried, but not enough to screw up the date by 30 something years.
“God damn it. “ Colin says.
“I knew it! “ exclaims Dafyd.
“This piece of shit is getting binned.
You look confused kid.
It’s called a gimmick. It’s the stuff side of what we deal in. Some of it, it’s two steps off of a horror novel. Most of it though, it’s just strange.
Figuring them out is 95% engineering and 5% esoterica.
They teaching you anything across the pond? “ Colin asks.
The question leads to a conversation, the conversation leads to a week of me shadowing the two finicky, strange guys.
I’d go into more detail, but as the days go by, things seem more and more like spending time with some out there branches in the family tree. As terrifying as everything has been, as terrifying as it is, it’s, interesting.
But I wouldn’t be writing if things were sunshine and roses though, would I?
One day, after working with objects that scared, confused and frustrated me in equal measure, I realized there was something I was avoiding.
So I found myself standing in front of Augustus, the creature held upright and immobile in it’s coffin-like cage. The Plexiglas window is cracked.
It's worse than I thought it would be. Every time I look at the thing’s face I see the blood it made me spill. I see the power it wields, and the murderous intent in it’s twisted pit of a mind.
But sometime soon, I’m going to be next to it again. I have to be able to keep myself together. I have to understand this thing as much as I can.
“Hey killer, how the fuck ya Doin? “ Augustus taunts. Shame reddens my fear paled face.
“Can we talk? “ I say, I want it to be a demand, it comes out as a whimper.
“What do we have to talk about, bud? What about this are you not picking up on yet? “ Augustus is smug, confident even while confined.
“How you seem to have this limitless ego, when you're being held by literally the oldest woman possible. “ I’m too scared to say this above a whisper.
“That dusty old wizard’s sleeve out there? She’ll fucking get hers.
Lucky bitch on a lucky day is all that was.
But luck runs out, and when it does, I’m gonna uproot your entire sad little family tree. “ Augustus threatens.
I actually take a step backward, and almost turn. The fear this thing causes, it’s more than the knowledge of what it can do, it’s a force in and of itself.
“Augustus, why not hear me out? “ I plead.
“Because kid, that’s not how this story goes.
I’ve got nothing but time, I’ll be around till the heat death of the fucking universe.
I don’t need to hear things like you out, I don’t need to bargain. No matter how airtight your inbred little clan thinks these bonds are, eventually, someone always makes a mistake. Something small, like a wrong angle on a rune.
Or…, “ as the thing talks, the door to the coffin like cage holding it starts to slowly swing outward, “ Something big, like forgetting to set the fucking padlock. “
I’m already running as he talks, but he’s standing in front of the exit before I can take a step.
He looms in front of the door, coat spreading, seemingly of it’s own accord, making the patchwork killer seem like some kind of twisted manta ray.
He locks eyes with me, I’m frozen, gripped in terror so intense I have no idea if it’s mundane or the aura of fear Augustus projects.
Those mismatched orbs burrow into me, I feel like this thing can see into my soul.
He inhales for an impossibly long time, a slick, menacing grin spreading across his leathery face.
“Yeah, today’s the day kid.” He says, a kick sending me across the floor like a smooth rock across the surface of a pond.
I’ve never felt pain like this, I try to stand, but my knee refuses to bend. I hit the ground and my ribs scream, I’m sure at least one was broken in the tumble.
I hear Augustus’ footsteps, my struggles to get to my feet are useless. Seconds in, i’m in literal crippling pain.
He grabs me by the throat, taking his time as he raises me above his head.
The look of joy on his face as I choke and struggle to breathe twists his features, for a moment he appears nearly snakelike.
He holds the tips of his claw-like nails against my stomach. Then draws his arm back.
“Don’t worry bud, I’m not just going to tear out your heart, everyone does that shit.
This isn’t going to be a sprint, it’s a fucking marathon. I just want to aerate the track a little bit before we start. “ His hand blurs and I close my eyes hoping I don’t last very long.
“Stop” I hear a deep, smooth, male voice say.
I hit the ground, and try to see who just stopped the beginning of my execution, but the pain, the cracked ribs, pulled muscles and long ragged scrapes have me seeing spots.
When my vision clears, I see a tall, blond man with impossibly angular features, dressed in an immaculate black and mauve suit.
His eyes try to look kind, but there is something wrong behind them. Something waiting to be let out.
“Who are you? “ I say, one lip, split and torn.
“You can call me Art. Arthur Deus if you feel like being formal.
But what you want to know, is why I’m here.
Well Nikolas, to simplify things, think of me as the older brother of the leering terror your ‘aunt’ has trapped here. “ As Arthur talks, I notice something, the motes of dust in the air are hanging still.
“I have no problems with you taking him. I haven’t seen you, I don’t know your name. Couldn’t stop you if I wanted to. “ I ramble.
Arthur holds up a finger, I go silent.
“If only it were that easy.
See Nikolas, your aunt and I, have quite the history. And as much as it pains me to admit it, she’s a crafty one, and has the means to make things very difficult for me.
Sylvia cannot know I’m involved, this is why I have an offer for you. “ As art says this, he waves a hand, almost dismissively.
Like a switch being flipped my pain stops, I watch as my wounds begin to seal and fade, amazed.
“What is it? “ I say. The words feel like they have weight.
“Sylvia is looking for someone to take over for her. As old as she is, she’s not immortal.
You’re her third attempt.
I’m not going to lie to you and say I care about what’s happening to the humans involved in this grim little spectacle. But I care about my family, and to a lesser extent, those like myself.
This bloodsport that your aunt is a part of, it’s vile. It’s world spanning, and it’s for nothing more than greed and bragging rights.
I want to change this. And I would like you to help me. “ Art’s tone is slick and confident.
“If I do, then you get him to back off? “ I say, pointing to Augustus.
Art looks dismayed for a moment.
“That’s not something I can really promise Nikolas. If anything could force him to listen to reason, he wouldn’t be in this situation in the first place. “ My heart sinks as Art says this.
“Fuck off Art. “ Augustus says.
Arthur rolls his eyes. They seem to go just a little too far back.
“But what I can do, is have a conversation with him, impress upon him how important it is he works with you. “ Art pats me on the shoulder before turning toward his sibling. His hand is impossibly hot.
“This kid dies, that is not my fault. You’ve seen this shit, he’s not built for it, just bust me out of here. “ Augustus isn’t far off of pleading in his tone.
“You know that’s not possible. I cannot let Sylvia know I’m here. But given time, I will have you out. “ Art assures.
“Fact remains, this kid gets on the wrong side of a blade or a fuckin, werewolf or something, that’s not on me.
Even if he manages to keep his lungs in his chest, look at him. His mind is cracking, he’s either insane or God-damned, catatonic in two months. “ Now Augustus sounds like a cocky piece of shit again.
“Of course, if he dies, or succumbs mentally, that’s not on you.
But I want you, to make a promise to me. I want you to understand that this child cannot be harmed by your hand. “ It sounds like Art is talking to a five year old.
Augustus shrugs before replying.
“The fuck you want me to say? You know me, you know I can’t say I’m not hurting this kid. And I sure as hell am not making a promise about it so you can get you-know-who involved when nature takes it’s course.
Fuck this kid, get me out of here.”
Arthur sighs and turns from Augustus , walking to me.
“Nikolas, I have something to tell you. “ He says, there’s a gravity to his tone that clearly makes Augustus uncomfortable.
“Art, what are you doing? “ The Trenchcoat wearing creature asks.
Art kneels bringing himself eye to eye with me.
“Don’t do this. “ Augustus says.
“Then promise. “ Art replies, a few seconds of silence go by, “ As you can see, I cannot guarantee your safety Nikolas.
But, for his own good, I want to tell you a word, one that will make my myopic brother look at things a little differently, if the need arises.
I’d use it sparingly, it’s not meant for those like yourself. It will have a physical, mental and spiritual toll. But it might spare you the worst of his excesses. “
That word was the last thing Arthur said to me. With a staggering, disorienting lurch, time began to move forward.
It kept moving forward for the next month.
I learned a lot over that time, but, not what you might expect.
As it turns out, there is a hell of a lot more engineering, physics, and chemistry involved in working with the supernatural than, summoning circles and newt eyes.
But eventually, the day I was dreading came.
The venue was a strip club of all places, a massive building, on the outskirts of Norwich, gaudy neon lights illuminate a place that, unlike the theme restaurant, seems to be in active use.
There was a different ambiance this time. The folks milling around the rune etched Lucite box seemed more sedate, and a hell of a lot richer.
The lighting was professional, driving music sets a professional sports tone.
This time I walk in the cage of my own accord. It’s not pride, or bravery, but simply knowing, I have no choice.
The roar of the crowd stokes my fear as Augustus slowly opens the door of his coffin-like vessel.
He loves the attention, his grin both horrifying and genuine.
“Guess we’re in the big leagues now, eh, killer? “ Augustus prods.
I’m sweating. I’ve cut a little weight over the past month, unintentionally, but as I wonder what horror is going to come walking in the other side of this cage. I don’t think being in marginally better shape and having a working knowledge of basic engineering is going to do me a lot of good.
Suddenly the crowd is silent, lights illuminate a spot at the far end of the massive Lucite box.
She’s small, slight, and has grey, lifeless skin. Her eyes are massive, her body beautiful, but exaggerated to the point of looking cartoonish. She’s not wearing much, a small t-shirt and what I’ll generously call a bikini bottom.
Beside her is a massive, brick slab of a man, late twenties or early thirties. His eyes are wild, he’s covered in layers of scars, and burns. He wears an old, worn prison uniform that’s never seen a washing machine.
He matches her strange, boneless stride, with a loping wolf-like gait.
“Entering the ring, you know her, you love her. She’s the Vixen of the void, The Nymph of nothing, Norwich’s own, ‘Sweet’ Francis Anne!
And at her side, brought in at great expense from the land of Twinkies, cheeseburgers and weak beer, The Corps Killer, the Military Mangler, with 24 out of ring kills and 36 in, ‘Big’ Billy Speck! “ an announcer screams.
The crowd bursts into life, noise shakes the walls of the cage.
“And, on the other side, I don’t know, some wanker in a Trenchcoat, and a kid that isn’t even old enough to be here. Let’s watch them die. “ He finishes.
Augustus looks enraged, his teeth chatter, he flexes his clawed hands. I walk in his shadow as he advances to face the creature and her second.
“I know you! “ The grey skinned thing says, her voice high pitched. As she speaks I notice what appears to be a thick scar bisecting her from forehead to stomach.
“Never heard of you. Neither will anyone else after this. “ Augustus says with a grin.
“You’re the runt of the litter right? Royal blood but peasant flesh, that’s what they say, no? “ Francis says, she grins a toothless smile. The inside of her mouth, a black void.
“Fuck my family. What I am is as good as meat gets. I give myself power, all you have is a cosmic std. “ Augustus stares Francis down as he talks.
Francis reacts with nothing more than a coy look. Bill stares down at me, the handle of some large blade sticking out of his right pocket, and a short length of chain wrapped around his left forearm.
A buzzer cuts through the roar of the crowd, the world seems to consist of nothing more than myself and the horrors around me as the timer begins to count down.
Like a flash Augustus leaps at Francis, but her body stretches and contorts as she moves, he never gets close.
I tear myself away from the clash of unnatural creatures as I look to the mutilated killer in front of me.
I didn’t come in unarmed, but I also was expecting another kid. And wanted to avoid what happened last time if at all possible. My heart races as I pull the small black can from the pocket of my worn, grey hoodie.
For a second I feel like a badass. I’ve got the can of mace aimed and spraying before Bill can react.
Four seconds tick by before the can is empty, Bill is soaked in thick yellow liquid, it runs down his face like tears.
The psycho doesn’t even blink.
“You good? “ he asks before slapping my outstretched arm aside and shattering my nose with a backhanded blow that seemed almost an afterthought.
Augustus screams in frustration, moving faster than I can track, but not able to put a scratch on the amorphous, rubbery woman.
Bill uncoils the chain, and I feel a sudden deep, crushing pain in my chest. I stumble backward, coughing. He laughs and whips the chain out again, I manage to see the next blow, but have no way of stopping it.
He manages to hit the same spot, the pain is overwhelming, my lungs feel bruised, I can’t breathe.
Francis seems to have grown bored avoiding Augustus, he pants, sucking wind as she stands in front of him.
That scar splits, not fully, but from forehead to the bridge of her nose. What’s behind it, is nothing.
I mean that in terms so literal, I can’t describe how it looked. It was more of a feeling that a sight. Looking into it, made me understand just how empty something can actually be.
Pieces of Augustus’ skin and flesh begin to, simply not exist. His look of confusion lasts for about a second before he’s sent sailing through the air by a long, whip-like arm.
The trenchcoat clad creature extracts himself from a tangled mess of tables, chairs and debris. Francis and Bill laugh, mocking us.
“Let’s trade dance partners” Augustus says, his two handed shove launching my broken body into Francis.
She catches me, her body absorbing the impact.
Fear is making me hyperventilate, physical trauma is turning that into a wheezing pant that feels like being waterboarded.
Francis looks down at me, violence and seduction in her eyes.
“Make things easy for me and I’ll let you go out with a bang. “ She says, the look of carnal violence on her face makes me gag.
Augustus struggles with Bill, the creatures wounds many and severe.
A minute remains, but I don’t know if I can last another ten seconds.
Francis stretches one arm into a thin tendril, it begins to circle me, caging me into a progressively smaller area.
“I’m sixteen, you paranormal nonce. “ I blurt out, the pain from my broken nose almost making me pass out, “ That’s the word they use around here, right? For the kind of creep that gets supernatural powers to hit on a kid? “
I can’t run, I can’t fight, all I can do is try to distract this thing for another 42 seconds.
Her face begins to turn, shifting and warping into something resembling a cattle skull more than a person.
The wet snapping noise distracts both Francis and myself.
Augustus has his hand buried in the chest of the convict, he holds the man aloft for a moment.
Augustus says something in a language I can’t even guess at, and with one fluid motion tears the black, decayed heart from his own chest and replaces it with that of the killer.
He begins to scream, then laugh, wounds spraying ichor, he seems to swell, his face a mask of pleasure and Ill intent.
“Death machine just needed a new engine. “ Augustus says with a cackle.
Francis forgets about me and lashes out, quite literally, at Augustus. Limbs becoming a frenzied blur of snaking flesh, , destroying anything they so much as graze.
He wades into the storm, flirting around the edges of the cage, making her chase him with the lethal limbs.
The conflict is a blur, but at the 23 second mark I see it. As much as I hate the prick, I’m almost impressed.
She’s tangled, somewhere among the bent stripper poles, and doorways to private booths, She’s caught herself.
Augustus takes his time now, her body is stretched thin, looped around door handles and under stages.
Ten seconds left, Augustus is feet from her writhing, blob-like form. Her features pulled taught enough to be nearly non-existent.
“Takes a lot to open yourself up doesn’t it? “ Augustus says, kneeling, he holds the killer’s knife in one hand, “ Why don’t I do it for you? “
The blade is barely touching her flesh as the timer ends.
“Fuck’s sake! “ Augustus says, standing, and letting the knife fall to the floor.
Something about the way he walks to one end of the Lucite cage worries me.
“Nobody likes a draw, but as far as they go, that was one hell of a kiss to your sister, wasn’t it folks?
No one is defeating our lovely lady of legend, but let’s hear it for the man who tried… Trenchcoat! “ The announcer screams over the loudspeaker.
The crowd is on their feet, bets are being paid out, and two groups of people are trying to open doors conveniently barred by flesh no person is going to get through.
I jog up to him, my body screaming at me every step of the way. He taps along one clear wall.
“Cheap runes. “ Augustus says, before driving his fist like a spear through the Lucite.
The hole he makes is about the size of a watermelon, his hand easily going through all six inches of the wall.
But it’s not big enough to accommodate the body of the poor twenty something he drags through.
In an instant the man is flensed, his small bones broken, eyes, ears and jaw, nothing more than a smear.
But he’s still alive, wailing a haunting death bellow as he struggles to understand what just happened.
“Stop! “ I scream, horrified. Blood sprays from my ruined nose, “You think I won’t say it? “
Augustus slowly cocks his head, punching his fist through the wall again, and tossing another victim beside the first.
“In front of your family, and that aunt of yours? You think this is bad? The shit she’ll do to you if she knows you even looked at my Dangerous Brothers looking prick of a brother will make this look like a massage.” Trenchcoat pauses, letting the reality sink in, letting my absolute lack of power envelop me like a blanket, “ You want me to stop? I’ll give you something no one else has, a choice.
Either finish one of these pieces of meat off, or, have a taste. “
He brings his hand back for another strike, and I make my choice.
No, I’m not telling you which one. I can share a lot of things with you guys. But, I’m sorry, how I picked to save the rest of the people in that place is a shame I’m going to carry on my own.
Don’t know if any of you will want to hear from me again, after knowing what I’ve had to do, who I’ve had to deal with, but I’m going to keep posting. This is getting nothing but worse, and maybe, I can save someone else the same fate.

Yzael

The darkness of light loomed over Aldenshore as Vyrrasha glowered hatefully at the reports she was handed by her retainers and war council.
The Seraph Dragonkin’s snout clenched tighter with each word she read, her draconic pupils narrowing into slits as she digested the gravity of the information laid out before her. The magically imbued parchment crackled under the tension of her grip, the spell protecting it threatening to shatter. For her, as a Duchess of the Empire, these were not just words; they were a harbinger of potential doom, a shadowed path that could lead to ruin if she tread carelessly.
She could usually dismiss reports of skirmishes and minor losses with a cold, calculated detachment, but not now. Now, every syllable bore weight. Every stroke of ink could be the difference between life and death. Vyrrasha was no stranger to the deadly dance of power, but this... this was different.
At first, Vyrrasha thought her supposed Emperor had ever so carefully placed her in a position to blunt the main thrust of the Otherworlders in a bid to defame and discredit her. But on closer inspection and verification of the Otherworlder's capabilities, it was all too apparent he was trying to kill her.
When she finally spoke, her voice was a lethal whisper that cut through the tense air of the chamber. "Tharivol," she addressed one of her generals, a Dark Elven man, "they’re everywhere like a plague, aren't they?" She asked as superheated primal fire leaked from her snout and snarling maw.
Tharivol's dark eyes darted away, his usual composed demeanor faltering under her intense gaze. "Y-Yes, Mistress," he admitted with a deep and respectful bow. "These otherworlders, they... they strike swiftly and fade into the night, leaving turmoil in their wake."
Vyrrasha's tail lashed out, sweeping a stack of maps from the table in a display of frustration. "Everywhere we believe ourselves secure, they prove us wrong," she hissed, the fire within her threatening to burst forth. "Command centers compromised, supply lines in disarray, our commanders fall one by one to their invisible blades... Even the troops, our soldiers, now sleep with one eye open, fearing the night's embrace."
Tharivol's hand clenched at his side, his own frustration mirroring his queen's. "Their methods are... not too dissimilar to the methods of the Tauri," he conceded, struggling to maintain his composure as his eyes darted to the dark grey-skinned Tauri Savage in the corner of the chambers. "And the fear they sow is potent among the other lord's men, Mistress."
The fury within Vyrrasha only seemed to grow after hearing Tharivol's words. It was a smoldering anger that seemed to heat the very air around her and cause her council to flinch as more flames erupted from her mouth and nostrils. "Damn you, Varian..." she cursed through gritted teeth, the name of the Emperor searing the room with its bitterness. "I hope the hells take you to the deepest, coldest pit they can find and lock you away for all eternity..."
The room fell into an uneasy silence, her council and retainers exchanging nervous glances, not daring to utter a word. To speak out during such a display of wrath was to risk a fiery end.
Several long, agonizing minutes passed as Vyrrasha sat upon her throne. Her head rested lightly in one hand as her fingers covered her eyes as if to shield her from the world's treachery. Her chest heaved with each breath, the embers of her anger glowing hot beneath her feathers.
Finally, with a deep, controlled inhale, the Duchess composed herself, and the flames subsided. She realized every minute, every second counted, and she could not afford to brood. Not now, not when every move could lead to her demise. "I want every dragon and every Wyvern accounted for," she commanded with an authoritative and measured tone. "I want every man or beast who is even capable of even FEELING mana to be put under my command."
Suddenly, Vyrrasha stood up and strode toward the table where a detailed magical projection of the lands lay displayed. The room balked at her order, and a human commander, garbed in the regal uniform of his rank, dared to speak, his voice a mixture of caution and concern. "Mistress, the lords and ladies of the war group would never—"
"THEN KILL THEM!" Vyrrasha's shout was a shockwave that rattled the chamber, her draconic fury causing a puff of flames to burst forth and send the human reeling from the intense heat and cringe.
The room was plunged into a frightened silence, each member of the council fully aware of the stakes. Vyrrasha's eyes, now shimmering with an inner fire, swept across the faces of her advisors, her generals, her retainers—each one avoiding her gaze, knowing full well she was completely serious.
She leaned over the projection, her face piercing a mountain and her claws clamping down on the representation of the rift. "We are at WAR!" She growled fiercely. "And war requires discipline, obedience, and sacrifice! If the lords and ladies continue to play their petty games of power and refuse to see the threat these otherworlders pose, if they cannot unite under one banner for the sake of our very existence, then they are no better than traitors!"
Vyrrasha's voice thundered through the chamber, resonating with the authority of a commander preparing for an all-out siege. "Be they peasant or count, if ANY refuse to fall in line under a unified command, then they are to be slain on the spot!" Her eyes scanned the room, capturing the expressions of shock and fear on every face present. The gravity of her command hung heavy in the air; there was not a hint of double speak or sarcasm in the Dragoness's words.
"Tharivol, Morith, Erend, Silvar, you four are to bring with you ALL of my greatest mages and warriors at first light and see to it they’re all brought in line," Vyrrasha continued, her voice as cold and hard as the stone walls surrounding them. "You have my full authority as Duchess to execute any who refuse, political blowback be damned! If I must slaughter half of the nobility and become an enemy of every house, then so be it!”
"If I am to be cosigned to my grave by this inbred cur of an Emperor," she bellowed, the fire in her belly igniting once more, sending waves of heat throughout the room, "then I shall do so kicking and screaming, dragging as many of those fop bastards and hellspawned otherworlders with me!"
“Shall I start conscripting the local population and Freelancers, mistress?” Morvalen, the Human commander, asked as he bowed deeply.
Kicking the slag clumped on the stone floor to the side and out of the way, Vyrrasha’s gaze never left the magical projection that illuminated the chamber with an ethereal glow. Her snout twisted in disgust at the suggestion, "No, the mundane will be useless in this fight, and the sellswords are too unreliable. I need discipline and obedience, not warm bodies!" She sneered. "The lords and ladies brought plenty enough fodder to blunt whatever those creatures will throw at us initially."
As the Duchess spread her taloned hands on the table, she leaned forward so her imposing figure loomed even larger over the map. Her eyes, now aflame with a predatory intensity, were fixed on the glowing representation of the rift.
"We must treat their aerial threat as if it far exceeds those reported from the initial expedition," she declared, her voice cutting through the heavy air like a knife. "We must become clever and vicious." The darkness of her feathers seemed to absorb the light around her, casting her in a silhouette that was both majestic and terrifying.
Her advisors were a collection of some of the most formidable minds and warriors in the empire, and they all stood frozen. The mere notion of losing air superiority was unthinkable, yet Vyrrasha's implications were clear—they needed to prepare for the worst. The concept of merely contested airspace was unsettling enough, but to be wholly outmatched was a scenario they hadn't dared to contemplate.
"Due to our ‘Emperor’s’ most gracious allocation of qualified personnel, beasts, and dragons, we must adopt a more asymmetrical approach," Vyrrasha continued, her voice turned more thoughtful as her eyes darted across the map, focusing on the vast, dense forests stretching between the rift and Aldenshore. "But only once we have acquired as many living mages as we can."
As she began pacing back and forth, her movements were calculated, each step measured with the precision of a predator. "Analyses and reports on how these beings can somehow detect and even see things from impossibly far distances…" she explained, coming to a stop. "We need to mitigate this advantage."
The room listened intently as their Duchess closed her eyes and retreated back into her own mind. Several long minutes seemed to float by as they anxiously waited for her next instructions. And just when someone opened their mouth to ask if there was anything else she’d like done, Vyrrasha’s eyes suddenly shot open.
"Anke, while we wait for these mages, go to every town and gather as many enchanters and artificers as you can and have them start weaving illusions and decoy enchantments.." Vyrrasha turned to one of her most trusted war mages, a pale-skinned and blonde-haired High Elf man she had retained for centuries. "Once the mages arrive, I need you to start teaching them Golemancy."
"And Sestri," the Duchess finally addressed the leader of her Tauri savages, “I don’t care what you do, but..." Another hateful look spread across her face. “Put a stop to these DAMNED RAIDS!”
As the days went by, Coleman meticulously refined Elijah's strategy and made operational changes that were a lot more palatable for an international force. Elijah's schemes often bordered on the brilliant but said schemes required a firm hand to guide and temper them from their fringe or unhinged nature to functional and actionable.
Elijah was wildly unpredictable, and he teetered on being sociopathic. Coleman often found himself in a curious position, both admiring and exhausted by Elijah's antics. It was no wonder he never progressed any further than his current position as simply ‘a medic’. Even though Elijah had the mind and skill sets to become a team leader himself, or even a tier 1 operator, he was always constantly peered out of selection by cadre.
While not quite a loose cannon, Elijah was still incredibly hard to control, especially when he thought he was right. His instincts were sharp, and he was deviously clever to the point where he was often two steps ahead of everyone else, but his whimsical nature was both a strength and a liability. At times, Elijah would suggest plans so outlandish and daring that they skirted the edges of recklessness. Yet, more often than not, they worked, often leaving Coleman in a state of reluctant awe.
“You deserve that fucking fairy…” Coleman sighed exhaustedly ass he walked towards a massive snaking river where Elijah had been supposedly last seen with a group of villagers doing laundry.
The team had been saying the idiot had been chatting up one of the local girls for the past couple of days. Most of the villagers had already returned besides the two in question and Coleman thought it’d be best he’d give his medic a stern talking to before he got any cute ideas.
As he trudged down the rough and patchy dirt road, Coleman couldn’t help but continue his grumbling, "They're basically the same person… Just when I think I've got one under control, the other goes off rail..." He finished, pinching the bridge of his nose
But if the idea of having to tard wrangle Elijah and his demented fairy was bad, a third wheel decided to enter the mix. The FNG — the Fucking New Guy — a term the ODA had settled on calling their newly minted Engineer, Bennett, had been spending far too much time with Elijah. Not only was he adopting the medic's habits, but Bennett was also starting to pick up more unconventional and, practically speaking, insane tactical acumen.
Letting out a heavy breath, Coleman started to near the river and noticed a singular basket full of rough linens sitting just to the side of the road. He was about to open his mouth and shout for his medic when a sudden movement caught his attention. A young woman, probably in her early twenties, stood up and crested over the river bank with cheeks flushed a deep red.
The woman cleared her throat and adjusted her knee-high dress while massaging her abdomen as if it were sore. But as Coleman processed the situation, he also saw Elijah’s form popping up as the man hastily clamped his belt closed.
….
Coleman's face became an unreadable mask as he stared deadpan at the two, his eyes conveying both a lack of amusement and a lack of surprise. “Are you fuckin’ serious?” He abruptly spoke up.
The village girl let out a squeak in terror as she snapped around and stared at Coleman like a deer in the headlights. Upon realizing who it was, the villager’s expression went from terror to deep embarrassment as she gasped and covered her mouth with her hands. After the brief moment of shock, she then averted her gaze, murmured an apology, and quickly trotted away through the underbrush towards the village.
For the moment, Elijah remained frozen in place, but unlike the village girl, he held Coleman's gaze as they both became locked in an impromptu staring contest that neither seemed willing to lose. It was a battle of wills, an unspoken challenge between two soldiers who knew each other far too long and far too well.
The tension was thick enough that one would have been able to cut it with a knife, and as the seconds ticked by, Elijah's eyes began to dart around, searching for any possible escape route. But sensing his subordinate's instinct to flee, Coleman’s eyes narrowed as he spoke up with a monotone voice that carried an unmistakable edge of seriousness. "I'll shoot you in the dick if you run.”
Elijah's eyes snapped back to Coleman, as he tried to discern whether to take that threat seriously or not. It was a ludicrous statement, yet coming from Coleman, there was a certain gravity to it. Elijah knew the man was capable of making good on his threats in the most unexpected ways.
The standoff continued for a moment longer before Elijah let out a resigned sigh, conceding defeat as he raised his hand. “Bro, chill. I’m, uh. Gathering intelligence and building rapport.” He said, trying to use his silver tongue to get out of the shit he stepped into.
Coleman's head flinched back, and his eyes fluttered for a moment as if he was assaulted with an impossibly heavy wave of mental damage in the form of stupidity. “Rap- RAPPORT!?” He shouted back incredulously as he held his dead. “OH! OH YOU’RE BUILDING RAPPORT!” With a contemptuous laugh that echoed slightly through the grove, he gestured broadly around him as if presenting Elijah's absurd justification to an invisible audience. "Ahahah, how rude of me!" he exclaimed, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
Then, pressing his fingertips to his chest as though pointing to himself, Coleman continued, his tone thick with mock apology. "I thought... you were fucking a local, I totally didn't realize you were building RAPPORT." The word 'rapport' was enunciated with a heavy dose of irony.
Flopping his hand down to his side with a loud smack against his thigh, Coleman spoke a mock apology as he pouted his face. "I'm so sorry, Eli. How could I EVER get those two mixed up!" The excuse was so absurd that even the birds seemed to pause in their singing.
Elijah, for his part, managed to keep a straight face, though the corners of his mouth twitched as if fighting back a grin. “Hey man, look.” He shrugged, keeping his tone convincingly unsure. “These guys get up to some crazy shit. If we want to probably engage in what I’d like to call Village Re-Orientation Operations–” Elijah was soon interrupted by a stick flying towards his face, which he managed to dodge barely. “Yo chill!”
“Shut the fuck up, you piece of shit!” Coleman bellowed as picked up an even larger one and chucked it as his medic at full force. “You think you’re gonna gaslight me!? You think you’re fuckin’ smart!?”
This idiot had crossed a lot of lines, and Coleman had put up with a lot of Elijah’s bullshit, but this was by far the stupidest thing he’d had the displeasure of dealing with, and his patience was worn thin. Fueled by righteous fury in the face of Elijah's antics, the team leader had escalated to hurling not just sticks and verbal barbs but also whatever he could lay his hands on in the environment. Elijah, for his part, danced around with a nimbleness that belied his usually laid-back demeanor, each dodge accompanied by a plea for reason.
In an act of uncontrolled rage, Coleman grabbed a branch as thick as one’s arm and jumped over the bushes to beat him with it. “What if you get her pregnant!? What if Brass finds out!? What if you get fucking SPACE AIDS!”
"Dude, relax! I used protection!" Elijah called out from behind a large rock, attempting to bring some sense of rationality to the bizarre situation. This declaration brought Coleman to an abrupt halt as his expression morphed from one of fury into utter bafflement.
"WHAT!?" Coleman exclaimed, the incredulity in his voice cutting through the tension. "What does that EVEN MEAN!?"
Seizing the moment of pause, Elijah’s head popped out from his makeshift cover, "You really think I'd come to a place with elves and cat girls without taking an industrial pack of condoms?" he quipped, his tone light but earnest. "Like, come on. Let’s be real."
The absurdity of the statement, combined with the sincerity with which Elijah delivered it, seemed to make Coleman feel like he was going to burst a blood vessel. However, his menace of a subordinate wasn’t done there.
Before Coleman could recover from the initial shock and gather his wits to launch another tirade, Elijah quickly shifted the conversation, hoping to distract his enraged team leader with potentially useful information.
"Besides! I actually managed to get a tip on where some tax-collecting noble dickhead and his horde of food is stashed!" Elijah said, putting up his hands in surrender. “We can hit ‘em and snatch it!” he finished, backing up a little, hoping that would sate Coleman’s anger.
Coleman stood there, branch in hand, narrowing his eyes at his medic before tossing it to the ground and pointing at him. “This isn’t over…” He growled ominously before gesturing for Elijah to follow.
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First: https://www.reddit.com/HFY/comments/14vo5lb/troublemakers_deaths_pity/
*previous:* https://www.reddit.com/HFY/comments/1cns0mg/troublemakers_weaponized_compassion/
......
A tree sprung from the stone floor beneath Drake's feet, sturdy branches carrying him up and over the dangerously heavy head of the Warhammer. The tree shattered into splinters as Drake leapt into the air, sword glittering as he struck at conquest's face, surprise registering in the goddess's face as the blade split her cheek open. The roar of pain shook the throne room as Conquest snatched the falling warrior from the air to fling him through a pillar. There was a flash of fear in Conquest's eyes, Drake didn't know it yet, but what he'd just done should have been impossible without the pale flames. The cut knitted itself closed as Conquest disappeared, moving faster than Drake could perceive. He raised his left forearm, the vines rapidly turning into a thick, thorned bracer before the Hammer made contact. The impact numbed Drake's arm, feeling it snap and then begin to mend with a laugh of exhilaration, the fear pulsing through his body mixing with the rage like a deadly cocktail of drugs as he slid back across the stone floor, feet carving trenches as he deflected himself off the golden blur of the hammerhead with a calculated strike from Alexandros. The sword hummed in his hand, almost laughing as his back foot touched the steps to the throne. A powerful leap launched him just far enough out of the hammer swing to spare him injury, Conquest's angry eyes following him as she redirected the swing to hit him mid-air. To the goddess, he moved in slow motion, as he moved barely fast enough to keep up and not get splattered.
The massive hammerhead slammed into Drake's back, the momentum gluing him to its head as Conquest slung him at the ornate wooden doors that led to the space between reality and time. The doors cracked as he slammed into them feet first, springing back at Conquest with a bloody laugh of exhilaration. He walked the knife's edge between victory and defeat, the sensation of his roiling fear and rage like a powerplant for his mortal muscles as he stabbed at Conquest's eye. The goddess flickered, disappearing moments before he could put his sword through her eye. But he'd seen it, that tiny flash of fear in the eyes of divinity as he twisted in mid-air, the hammer's head missing him by mere inches as he tore a bundle of the woody vines from his chest plate. Flinging them up to the ceiling, one end wrapped around his wrist as it snapped taut, reversing his momentum as he swung back around in a circle. Conquest's eyes followed him, face warped into an angry snarl as she threw the hammer, intending to strike Drake but instead flinging it through the ornate wooden doors; The wood gave way as the hammer and splinters of the door were sucked into the aether. Drake careened back around and let the vine slip from his hand as he thrust his sword straight at Conquest's rotund golden breastplate. A massive purple hand flickered up to catch him, his sword piercing her palm and drawing a shriek of pain as she hurled him into the aether, Darkness enveloping him as the throne room disappeared.
...
Conquest panted as the sword embedded in her palm dissolved into a black mist that dispersed without a sound. The wound in her palm drooled golden blood as it slowly knits closed, leaving a small scar that she stared at with burning rage.
"Guardians..."
She snarled, remembering the two souls that had forsaken reincarnation to protect that defiant whelp. She waved a hand, the doors re-forming with a small draw on her power. Snatching a goblet of wine from the arm of her throne as she plopped into the seat, the chained figures groaning in pain as she stared at the double wooden doors. No mortal soul could survive the aether no matter how powerful or how many guardians it had. She watched, and waited, eagerly awaiting the surge of power that would come from killing such a powerful being loved by primordial and mortal alike. A slow smile came to her face, for all the bluffing of that verdant witch and wandering warrior, they could not even hope to protect their child from the chaos that was the aether. unless...
She put the thought from her head. The Umbra did not have a will, it was the raw energy of creation and destruction that all gods and primordials drew their power and were born from. Even if that brat could touch the heart of the Umbra, he would only find himself torn apart atom by atom. Flayed into numberless pieces by the raw energy of divinity. But as the seconds crawled on, there was no burst of power, no orgasmic rush as her domain expanded. There was only the cold silence of her stewing anger.
The sound of groaning wood filled the chamber as the doors began to warp inwards, the inner surface charring as heat mirage blurred the air in front of it. Conquest summoned another hammer, assuming her father had come to chastise her for killing his "nephew." She snorted, ready to fight her father.
But when the doors burst open, it was not War that stood at the threshold. Drake had returned, wreathed in a pale inferno several meters tall and wide. It blackened the stone floor as a primal fear froze her already cold blood. She rose to her feet, the hammer already swinging as the silhouetted figure looked up at her, eyes a flaming, pure white and devoid of life. The power that pulsed from him defied all reason, tinged with the stillness of death and smothered with the chaotic energy of the Umbra.
The hammer's head simply dissolved as it passed through the flames, never touching the silhouette in the middle as the flames began to condense toward the figure. God-like power shook the chamber as the flames formed a second shining skin around Drake's form, two great flaming wings sprouting from his back like an angel...
"The angel of death..."
She breathlessly exclaimed, mouth agape in awe as the figure raised their glimmering sword. Conquest dared not find out what would happen should he be allowed to bring it down, grabbing the golden chain at her neck and yanking it away with a snap as she released the soul entrapment. The figure disappeared, leaving her alone in her throne room, her blackened heart pounding with a fear she shouldn't be able to feel. Because the power that inspired it shouldn't exist, it was raw, untamed, and chaotic. It was the culmination of all things that are, have been, and will be.
It was power incarnate, given to a mortal soul...
"What are you, boy..."
She whispered incredulously.
...
The Darkness smothered him like a warm blanket, but the sensation only lasted for so long before becoming unbearable. It was like burning nails were driven into every centimeter of his being, he opened his mouth to scream and it felt like he'd inhaled molten metal as it seared the essence of his very being. He closed his eyes, mind reeling as he fell, and fell, and fell, forgetting who he was through the pain.
Then a black rose, encased in glass filled his vision, glowing against the darkness with a pale golden light. The dried vine affixing it to his neck burned away as he desperately reached out, fingers curling around the pebble of glass.
The fire crackled softly in the small, cozy cabin. A pair of slim, warm arms wrapped around his shoulders, and holding a book open in his small lap. Drawings of winged, scaled, regal beasts adorned the pages as a slim finger gently traced beneath the words under an image of one of the smaller beasts.
"And this is your namesake my child. The Drake is a four-legged, scaled beast with wings. Different from dragons, they are not as intelligent, nor powerful, but their loyalty and conviction are unmatched. Those who tame them have said that if you save a Drake's life, you've earned a loyal companion for not only your life but your children's and their children's lifetimes. But should you wrong one, you will have an enemy that will pursue you throughout the stars seeking its revenge."
His small, chubby hand reached out, touching the image labeled "Drake" with a burbling happy noise. His mother laughed softly and opened her palm towards the ceiling, a bright pink and white snapdragon flower blooming from her palm. He giggled and clapped before gently taking the snapdragon in two small cupped hands. His mother stroked his hair lovingly and kissed the top of his head, softly saying.
"Be strong like your namesake Drake, there will come a day when we will no longer be around to shield you and the others from mistreatment. And though it breaks my heart... that duty will fall to you, My little Drake."
The pain subsided somewhat as Drake remembered his name, reaching for the glistening sword that had tumbled from his hand as dark tendrils wrapped around his arms, legs, and waist, dragging him down faster as his hand wrapped around the leather grip.
The carved wooden swords clashed together in a rapid series of training blows. Drake fended off his father's onslaught with rapid, small movements from his peasant's guard, backing up in circles around the small plot where his mother cultivated medicinal herbs for the village. His small, leather-shoed feet danced gracefully between the delicate plants as his father happily called out each strike.
"Low-left! High-right! thrust! parry to riposte! Overhead! Backhand! Uppercut! Good! Good! HAHA!"
Drake's father stopped swinging the sword with a fatherly smile of pride as Drake returned the smile, panting heavily from exertion as he leaned on his wooden longsword to catch his breath. The illegal swordsmanship training had been something he and his father often did to pass the time and bond. The old warrior stepped forward and clapped a hand on his son's shoulder proudly.
"You're gonna be a great warrior someday son..."
Alexander knelt in front of the small raven-haired boy and wiped a smudge of dirt from his cheek with a melancholy smile.
"Just remember son, the stronger you become, the more responsible you must be. Don't use your strength to subjugate. Use it to protect those who cannot protect themselves, use it to stand up for the weak and trodden on. Remember, Violence is a tool, much like the sword in your hands, it can be used for both good and evil, regardless of where it comes from. You've got your mother's heart son, but you have my blood. You'll get excited when violence comes to you, your blood will run hot and you'll be able to fight much harder and much longer than most. Do not harden your bleeding heart son, it will keep you from losing yourself."
Drake nodded solemnly, taking his father's wise words to heart as the aging warrior stood back up and brandished his sword in his left hand. Drake slid into his peasant's guard, still panting softly as that exhilarating thrill filled his body, blood running hot as his father chuckled fondly.
"That's how I know you're mine, you can keep up with me even at such a young age. You make me proud son, know that you always will. Now! En garde!"
Drake's body drank in the pain as he fought against the tendrils dragging him down. His heart beat faster and faster with pure exhilaration and adrenaline as he clawed at the darkness, feeling it regard him with a bestial intelligence as he cut its tendrils with his sword. His scars burned back onto his skin in flashes of pale flame, glowing with that strange, painful, ancient power as he forced himself to swim upwards, back towards the brown speck that was the ornate double doors. To his surprise, the darkness did not fight him. As a matter of fact, He could feel it pushing against his back, no through his back, infiltrating the very being of his soul and setting it alight as he rocketed towards the double doors like a flaming meteor, watching them burst into flames as he got closer, and closer. Until he alighted on the doorstep, gently placing his hand against the wood to push it open, the door bursting into splinters as he entered Conquest's throne room.
Surprise, incredulity, and fear flashed across her face as she leaped to her feet, swinging that golden hammer directly at him. But it never passed his pale flames as he glared into her fearful eyes, pulling the pale flames into him, the act making him feel like he was swelling like a balloon as he raised his sword to unleash it and rid his body of this strange, chaotic energy. But conquest did not allow it, ripping a golden chain from around her throat with a snap!
...
The first thing Drake saw when he returned to the land of the living, was a glaive thrusting towards Caz's throat, her rifle at an awkward angle as though it had been knocked aside. He flickered forward, bumping the glaive to the side with an open palm that sent it flying out of the small, masked woman's hands. With the same motion, he drove his fist into that blank porcelain mask, Surprise registering in the traitor's eyes for a brief moment before his fist shattered her mask and sent her slamming into the concrete wall before slumping down, unconscious.
His entire being buzzed with an electrical kind of feeling. Like he'd been hooked into a high-voltage reactor by a pair of jumper cables clamped to his nipples. He looked back to Caz, concern writ on his face in a wordless question. Her crystalline eyes were wide behind the mask as she whispered.
"Drake... your eyes..."
He squinted in slight confusion at her.
"What do you mean? what about my eyes?"
The surface of her mask turned reflective, revealing that his eyes glowed with an intense, bright white light that was rapidly fading to his normal eye color. Drake shook his head and squeezed his eyes shut, when he opened them again, they no longer glowed back at him from his reflection as Caz's mask returned to its porcelain white normalcy. Hearing a pained groan from the alter, Drake turned around as Caz brought her rifle to bear. The small woman looked around confusedly, rubbing her head, the golden collar around her neck having snapped upon impact with the wall. The woman looked up at them both with a timid, fearful look in her eyes, cowering against the wall.
"w-who are you people!? where am I?!?! Where's my mom!?!?"
Drake exchanged a look with Caz, The confusion in her crystalline eyes apparent as she slowly lowered her rifle. Drake looked back to the small cowering woman as Destrier's loud voice called out their names from outside. He slowly approached, watching the fear fill her eyes with a heavy heart. Gently kneeling in front of her, he pulled the golden collar off of her neck, looking at the inside of the simple golden band where needles and small sensors protruded in towards the center. He looked back into the small, timid, and scared woman's eyes and tossed it to the side before softly saying.
"We're just a couple of troublemakers... can you tell us the last thing you remember?"
Her brow furrowed deeply in thought, her eyes searching the floor rapidly before she looked up with a shocked expression.
"The... The last thing I remember is my mom trying to stop that strange lizard man from putting that collar on me... then... then it's just... empty... until now. Are... are you going to hurt me?"
Drake looked back to Caz with an angry, disbelieving expression, receiving a horrified one in return. putting the anger aside, Drake looked back at the small woman and extended his hand to help her up.
"No, No we aren't going to hurt you, can you tell us your name?"
The woman cautiously took his hand saying.
"My... My name? I-It's Charlotte... Charlotte Wraithbone."
Drake helped her to her feet saying.
"My name's Drake... Drake Dragoline. This is Caz. Remin, Destrier, and Cassius are outside. Along with my raptor, his name's Barney."
The sound of his true last name felt odd on his tongue. But at the mention of Barney, Charlotte's eyes lit up.
"Is he purple!?!?"
Drake chuckled and couldn't help but give her a soft smile.
"He's very purple, wanna meet him?"
Her eyes sparkled as she nodded rapidly, then winced and rubbed the back of her head, looking up at him and asking.
"What... what happened to me while I was blacked out."
Drake shrugged and shook his head, smile fading.
"Well, just now I kind of punched you in the face hard enough to throw you against the wall because you were trying to kill Caz here. I'm genuinely sorry, but other than that, we don't know anything else."
Her eyebrows furrowed, as she looked a the shattered pieces of the porcelain mask before looking up at him again.
"I'm not sure if I should be mad or not, But I really want to meet Barney so I'm going to let it go."
"Probably for the best kid. Also... I kind of shot your finger off... sorry."
Caz stated, Drake, nodding in agreement as he took the hand with the missing finger and bleeding stump. He was going to bandage it, but seeing the severed digit nearby, he grabbed it and cupped them both in his hand as Charlotte finally registered that particular damage with wide eyes. He flexed his disembodied muscle, pure flames gently rising from his hands as he focused on imagining the finger being reattached as though it had never been removed. When he let go, the finger looked like it had never been touched, however, her entire hand was black with soot. Drake nodded, intrigued, He had no clue if that was even possible, but something deep in his heart told him he was capable of so much more...
......
Part 105: https://www.reddit.com/HFY/comments/1cqxbp3/troublemakers_triple_cross/

First four chapters of the novel I'm working on. keep in mind this draft is very early. Please give any and all criticism and advice you can think of no matter how small. (should also mention that i am dyslexic so i apologies for any spelling or grammar mistakes Grammarly didn't catch) any way, ill stop yapping now, here it is:
CHAPTER ONE
The cold winds raged as the small force of a few dozen men traveled north, the snow in front of them illuminated only by the silver glow of the moon.
In the lead was a young man on horseback. Barely 19, every other man there was by far his superior in age. Yet he led them, not because of his military record or his skill in battle, but because he had been personally selected to lead this force by their lord, the lord of Diduna, and the young man's father.
"Cadam!" a soldier from the back shouted. The young man turned his horse around. "Our scouts have identified the encampment, it was just south of the Bonlin forest," the soldier informed him. "Good, but tell the men we did not step into the forest itself," Cadam replied. "You still believe the stories?" the soldier chuckled. "I would rather be a fool for believing them, than a fool for not," the Soldier stopped chuckling. "Very well, but we should make camp here for the night and move out in the morning," Cadam nodded to him.
The men set up near a small rock formation. A group of four men huddled over a small fire they had started. As they huddled, they began to talk about the upcoming attack and about the one who would lead it. "Nineteen!" one man exclaimed. "A nineteen-year-old leading us into battle, the boy is barely out of the womb!" "Has Ganjo lost his mind?" another asked. "I suppose he wants his son to gain experience in battle," one tried to reason. "Well, I would rather not be a pawn in the child's first chess game! The emporer would never have alowed this" as he exclaimed this, the other men noticed a figure looming over them.
"Do you wish for every man in all of Antesia to know we were here?" he said as he kicked a thick pile of snow onto the fire, smothering it.
"I'm sorry, my lord, we were just cold, that's all," the first man said.
"You have hides, if it is too uncomfortable out here, then maybe you should have stayed in the city, I hear there is an opening for a dung shoveler at the stables”
one of the men started snickering but stopped immediately upon a glare from his friend. Cadam gave the men one last look before returning to his tent.
In the morning, the men packed up camp and began to march north. By midday, they saw something on the horizon. Cadam ordered his men to stop; he took a messenger and approached the encampment himself. As he approached the front gate, he stopped and turned to his messenger. "Approach their encampment and deliver to their leader a challenge to single combat," the messenger nodded and began towards the front of the encampment with his arms raised.
A few moments later, the gates opened, and a single person rode out on horseback. The armor they wore was clearly scavenged, what may have once been noble and quality gear was now tattered and worn away by many years and many battles, except for the helmet which was evidently new and of somewhat quality make. It was very similar to Cadam's own helmet, covering most of the head and face. As they approached, Cadam thought something was off about their face, his suspicions were confirmed when the stranger spoke.
"You have challenged me to single combat," the stranger said in what was unmistakably the voice of a woman.
"No, I challenged the leader of this encampment," Cadam responded.
"You are looking at her."
"I won't fight a woman."
"Okay then, don't" she said as she reached for her belt and threw three knives in Cadam's direction, the first two missed but the third implanted itself in Cadam's thigh. He fell off his horse and clutched the knife. As he tried to pull out the blade, the woman unsheathed her sword and dismounted her horse. Before he had time to remove the knife from his leg, her sword came crashing down towards his head. He managed to roll to the side, narrowly avoiding death.
She readied her sword for another strike. He drew his own blade, managing to parry her attack at the last second. With a sweep to the leg, he knocked her to the ground, kicking away her blade and pointing his at her throat.
"You cheated" he remarked.
"This wasn't one of your fancy duelling lessons. Prince-boy."
She said the word "prince" with more disgust than Cadam had ever heard someone say a word.
He discarded her weapon and called to one of his men.
"Tie her up along with any other prisoners we capture," Then he addressed the rest of his force. "As for the rest of you, you may keep whatever loot you find, Attack!"
CHAPTER TWO
The men reacted to this command with enthusiasm Cadam had not seen since they departed. The men rushed towards the encampment like a pack of starving wolves who just discovered a wounded deer.
Cadam finally removed the knife from his leg and dropped it to the ground. He remounted his horse and hurried to the encampment before his men stole all the action. Being on horseback, catching up with his men proved no difficulty.
Cadam charged at the head of his force, stopping at the front gate. a few of the men carried over a rudimentary battering ram made from the trunk of a tree. Cadam dismounts and readies himself for the ensuing battle. The gate crumbles after the fourth hit from the ram, upon its collapse Cadam leads his troops, charging into the enemy line.
A battle is a significantly different beast compared to a duel. Cadam had spent most of his days as a child training in the art of the duel with some of the greatest instructors Antesia had to offer, including his father. He was well prepared for nearly any one on one encounter with an enemy, but there was nothing that could prepare him for a real battle, a battle between two groups of men with every intention of tearing one another into pieces and showing no mercy.
Cadam was scared. He had spent weeks marching through snow on the way here, and he spent his entire life dreaming of his first battle. Yet, he was scared. Cadam stumbled, falling behind the rest of his men as they charged head first into the enemy.
He watched as they furiously battled, the sound of steel clashing was deafening. Cadam knew he couldn't let his men see him like this so he held up his sword and forced his legs to walk him into the fray of conflict. Looking for an opponent he could take by surprise, he saw one of his men on the ground seconds from death as a yellow robe fighter went in for the kill.
Cadam rushed the Fighter, plunging his blade deep into the man's side, killing him. He then turned to the soldier who lay on the ground and offered him a hand, it was he then noticed it was one of the men from the campfire a few nights ago. Cadam helped him up and they both returned to battle.
Eventually the Yellow robes were defeated, there was only a small number who did not fight to the death and chose to surrender instead. Cadam addressed his men and told them they may take whatever you can find but to leave the prisoners alive. The soldiers reacted very positively to this and ransacked the encampment for anything they could find.
Once the pillaging was complete Cadam organised his soldiers and gathered the prisoners who he would bring with him for the return to his fathers city.
By the time they were organised and ready to leave, night had crept in so they decided to rest for the night and set out in the morning.
Cadam sat around a campfire talking and drinking with the soldiers, the mood was Ecstatic in the wake of their victory. Cadam had finally gained the respect and appreciation of those around him, although he did not feel as though it was earned. Each man was so focused on himself and the battle that none had noticed their leader freeze and fail to exhibit courage and leadership. All they knew was that he led them to success and even saved one of them during the fighting.
As if in answer to Cadams thoughts, the very man he had saved during the conflict hurried up to the campfire. But the expression on his face was not one of gratitude but one of great concern. "sir, there's a problem" he stumbled over his words barely managing to get them out of his mouth. Cadam immediately arose from the spot he had been sitting at, discarding his thoughts and resuming the stoicism his men knew him for.
"hold on now, what's your name soldier" "N-N-Neeman, sir" "Alright Neeman, now what is the issue?" "My friends i can't find them" "These are the men you were at the campfire with?" Cadam inquired. "yes sir" Cadam let out a sigh and put a hand on Neemans shoulder "Listen, war is dangerous. I'm afraid your frei-" Neeman cut him off before he could finish his sentence "No, they didn't die in the battle, i was with them after" Cadam removed his hand from Neemans shoulder visibly annoyed "You should know better than to interrupt your superior" Cadam said with a disapproving glare"
"I'm sorry sir, it's just... I'm very worried. " " Why? how do you know they have not just gone for a piss" Suddenly Neeman diverted his eyes from Cadams, avoiding eye contact as though it were the plague "Because... Because they went into the Bonlin Forest" at the mention of the forest the chatter around the campfire immediately ceased, all eyes now fixed intensively upon Neeman and Cadam.
"Follow me" Cadam muttered as he walked away from the prying eyes. Once they were out of earshot Cadam turned to Neeman with a look of anger on his face "Can you fools not follow the single order i give you?" "I-I'm sorry sir i told them not to but-" "When did they leave?" "earlier in the night, only an hour or so ago" "show me where they went" Neeman lead Cadam around the back of the ruined encampment careful to avoid the eyes of any soldiers who may think it a good idea to follow
Neeman stopped 30 or so feet from the forest. The pine trees stretched high with leaves like those of daggers settled at the top. This would have given a good view into the forest given the relative lack of foliage in the lower half of the trees but there was an unnatural darkness within the forest, a darkness not even the moon could illuminate. But it was not only Cadams eyes that told him not to go any closer, there was a chill he could feel, radiating from inside the forest. This was not like the chill provided by the snow that covered everything outside the forest. This was not a chill felt on the skin or any other part of the material body. This was a chill felt deep within the soul, a chill that could only have a single source. "you feel it dont you" Neeman said as he turned to Cadam "There is a great evil within this forest" Cadam replied, not looking away from the darkness cloaked in trees. "Your friends are dead" Neeman did not contest this claim for he knew it to be true. Death seeped from every inch of the forest, they both knew instinctively that there was not a single living being past the point where the first trees grew.
"I'm sorry Neeman" Cadam said to Neeman as he turned his back on the forest. "We should head back to camp, we have a long journey to start in the morning" Neeman replied. As they walked back towards their camp Cadam had a deep uncomfortable feeling in his gut. He was being watched. And whatever was watching him, was looking at him from the forest.
Chapter 3
The following morning as everyone was packing up getting ready to leave a soldier came running up to Cadam "Sir, some of the men decided to go for another look around the encampment to see if we missed anything last night, and boy did we!" Cadam had hardly slept last night due to his thoughts resting on his performance in the battle from the previous day and the forest. Due to his tiredness Cadam was not in the mood for any nonsense "just throw whatever you found in with the rest of the stuff and have someone carry it" "you misunderstand me sir, that won't work" and why not?" Cadam asked this with a tone suggesting annoyance, the soldier either did not notice or did not care about Cadams mood for he continued in the same upbeat tone
"follow me sir, this isn't something i can carry and present you with!" reluctantly Cadam followed the soldier and to his surprise he did not see some piece of armour or a valuable relic, instead a wagon sat in front of him. "how did you guys miss this when searching the place last night?". The soldier made a drinking motion. "alright then, get two horses and throw some of the loot in the back" "what about the prisoners?" Cadam had completely forgotten about the prisoners taken during the battle. "how many are there?" Cadam asked "ten, eleven including their leader you defeated" the soldier replied "alright, spread the prisoners out so they cannot conspire amongst themselves, put their lead in the wagon and make sure her hands are bound securely. She strikes me as someone i will need to keep an eye on" the soldier nodded and left to complete this task.
It would take a few hours for the group to be packed and ready to go, with Cadam sitting in the wagon that also contained a majority of the loot and the yellow robes leader, as ordered her hands were bound very securely to prevent any stealing or escape attempt. Cadam climbed aboard the wagon once they were ready to depart "Follow the Nahilri minor downstream until we meet with the main river" he commanded. As they started to move, Cadam turned around to face the woman in the back of the wagon, his face adorned with a confident smirk "you nearly killed me, feel like i should know your name" he asked.
"Nima" she responded without looking at him.
"Well Nima, how is it that a woman becomes the leader of a yellow robe encampment?"
she scoffed at Cadam before answering him "i earned my position, i didn't get it handed to me by way of my birth. bastards like you are what's wrong with Antesia, and what we are fighting to fix"
The accusation of nepotism visibly shocked and offended Cadam. His smirk immediately faded to be replaced with a cold stare as it took all Cadams composure to conceal his anger at her remarks. He turned away from her and focused instead on the roads ahead of them
Now it was Nima's turn to smirk
They wouldn't speak again until night fell and they had to stop for rest. Neeman volunteered to take first guard of the prisoners but Cadam dismissed him
"you should get some rest Neeman, I'll guard them"
Knowing better than to argue, Neeman relented and went to bed. Cadam sat next to Nima
"You know, the world isn't as black and white as you think"
"Oh please, enlighten me" she said sarcastically
"My father wants to better Antesia as well, just like you do"
"And I suppose that requires him to control it as well?"
Cadam did not answer, she continued
"What is it YOU fight for? Do you want to conquer Antesia for your father? Do you fight to install your family on the imperial throne? You lead an attack on our encampment but do you even know who you fight?"
Cadam looked away from her, unsure how to answer
"I-I- I don't know"
Nima was surprised by this answer, she expected him to act defensively and combat her claims
"Well, I hope you figure it out.
She turned to look him in the eye
"And I hope you figure it out soon, before all of Antesia in engulfed in flames"
Once again Cadam had no answer, they sat there in silence for a few minutes before Cadam regained his composure and his display of confidence.
"you asked me why I fight, why is it you fight?"
"I wasn't born in a castle, or a palace" she chuckled "Or even a damn shack. I was born in the middle of nowhere, born to parents who died soon after my birth. The emperor never cared about people like me, we were not important enough. Just irrelevant peasants who were never worth a second thought. When he died and the yellow robes were created it was my chance to do something about it, to help people and to be more than a worthless lowborn. I fight to try and make Antesia a better place, one free of out of touch rulers who only rule because of their status. That is why I fight, to do what I can to improve the world, and I would die for my cause. Would you die for yours?"
Chapter 4
The small force would be on the road for many days, they followed the Nahilri minor south until it joined with the main river. In total it was a little over a month before they reached their destination, this was due mainly to the weather. You see during winter the northern reaches of Antesia were often hit with heavy snow and sometimes blizzard-like conditions. This winter was no different, despite the winter season nearing its end and the dawn of spring the snow would not let up for several weeks to come. This meant that for most of the journey, all that they could see was an endless sea of white.
So it was a great relief when they finally saw it. At first, they only saw a bright light shining over the horizon, and as they drew closer the small light morphed into what seemed like a bright ball of glowing radiance illuminating the night sky, Diduna.
After so long on the road Cadam was relieved to finally see his father's capital.
"When you see the city you'll change your mind about wanting to lead an encampment in the middle of nowhere" he said to Nima
"I'm a prisoner, not a guest"
After having spent so long travelling together Cadam had almost forgotten the reason he even left the city.
"Don't worry I'll put in a good word for you, I know the guy who runs this place. You'll get out in a month or two"
for what may have been the first time since they met Nima smiled.
"Alright then, you better give me the grand tour"
Their conversation was cut short as they reached the front gate.
There stood two men guarding either side of the entrance. Both were significantly better equipped than any of Cadams men. They wore silver plate mail with a crest engraved into the chest piece, it depicted a snake and wolf fighting with an eagle swooping from above.
At first, Cadam had not noticed him but next to one of the men stood an old man, he was dressed in fine silk robes and had a long white smooth beard.
"you have returned," the man said addressing Cadam
"Yes, Father I succeeded in the mission you gave me" When Cadam said this his manner changed instantly, he spoke not like he was addressing a friend or relative but like he was addressing his superior, his face became cold and emotionless and his tone completely neutral.
"Good, these men will take the loot and prisoners into the city, come with me"
Cadam immediately dismounted the wagon and followed his father inside the city
"you did well son. I have arranged to throw a feast in honour of our victory, hopefully, the first of many"
Ganjo led Cadam into the great hall. Its roof climbed high into the sky and its walls stretched as far as the eye could see, the ceiling was held up with eight great arches on either side of the hall. Massive tables adorned the floors nearly as long as the hall itself.
It appears that nobody thought to wait for Cadams arrival before starting the celebration being held in his honour.
"Enjoy yourself Cadam"
Before Cadam could turn around to answer, Ganjo had already left.
Cadam took a seat at one of the tables but before he could grab anything to eat, he felt the bench he sat on sink, to his right now sat a massive man, in both height and width. The man was nearly a foot taller than Cadam, he had long orange hair and a massive bushy beard to match. And unsurprisingly to Cadam, he had a leg of meat in either hand.
"Good to have ya back, and even better they're are throwing you this feast!" The man said addressing Cadam
"It's been a while, how have you been Grassio?"
"Been pretty boring with you off doing whatever it was you were doing, the others aren't half as much fun"
"where are they?" Cadam asked
"uuuuhhhhhhhh" Grassio said as he surveyed the hall
"ah!" he said as he raised his hand in a beckoning motion
"over here, found 'im" As Grassio said this two others took notice and began towards them
A man with short dirty blond hair sat to Cadams left, and a woman wearing a dark cloak with equally black hair sat opposite Grassio
"Haha, knew it'd take more than a couple of yellow robes to take out the mighty Cadam of Diduna" the man to Cadams joked as he put his hand on Cadams shoulder
"Good to see the possibility of war on our doorstep hasn't dampened your mood, ey Bogen" Cadam responded, matching his joking manner
"I see Grassio wasted no time stuffing his face." Remarked the woman
"Come on, my love! you know the war machine needs its fuel!" Grassio replied through mouthfuls of food
She rolled her eyes at him
"I see nothing has changed since I left" Cadam laughed
"Nah, old Adga here has hardly let me eat a thing!" Grassio said as he finished his second leg
"So tell us, lad, how was your little expedition?" asked Bogen
Cadam spent the next few hours filling them in, on the battle but more importantly his conversations with Nima on the ride back to Diduna. He decided it best to leave out mention of his performance during the battle and of the events around the Bonlin forest. A few hours into the celebration their chatter was interrupted by a soldier approaching Cadam.
"Cadam, your father has requested your immediate presence"
"Alright, I'll be with him in a min-" the soldier interrupted Cadam before he could finish his sentence
"Immediate," He said far more sternly this time
Cadam conceded and followed the soldier away from the party
"Don't wait for me" Cadam called back to the others at the table
"I wouldn't dream of it!" Grassio called back as he bit into another leg of meat
The soldier led Cadam out of the feast hall and through the streets of Diduna. The sky was pitch black, there was nobody on the streets and the only sound that could be heard was the faint celebrations from the feast hall. The soldier led Cadam up to the northmost area of Diduna, this is where the richest citizens and most important buildings were located.
But all of them were dwarfed by the great palace of Diduna. It Was made of glowing white bricks and was by far the largest building in the city, in both area and height. It had four great spires on each of its corners, these spires each stretched so high into the sky they looked as though they may piece it, but there was one final feature of the palace that dwarfed even these spires.
Protruding from the centre of the palace was a single tower, nearly twice the size of the four spires. Apart from the sheer height one of the other noticeable features of the tower was the golden engraving of a tree, the branches of this tree wrapped around the entire tower and upon each branch was a name. This tree showed the line of Didunas ruler from its founder down to Lord Ganjo, and next to Ganjos name, there was a space reserved for Didunas next ruler - Cadam.
At the highest reach of the tower, there roared a great flame, this was the flame of Diduna. Its glow burned through the night's blanket illuminating the entire palace.
Ganjo stood in front of the palace.
"leave us" he commanded the guard
The guard did as he was told and left Cadam to talk with his father. Ganjo turned and walked inside the palace, with Cadam following close behind. They walked in silence to the top of the tower, stopping once they stood next to the great flame. Ganjo looked out over Diduna from the tower. Without turning around to face him, Ganjo addressed his son
"We live in an incredibly unique time, son. The emperor's death has turned Antesia into a land filled with chaos, but also one ripe with opportunity. This is not the first time an employer has died without an heir, but it is the first in more than a thousand years that there are no living members of the imperial family. My son, we are living in the most pivotal moment of Antesian history since the great catastrophe."
He turned to look at Cadam
"war is brewing, winter has given reason for peace among the lords but now that spring approaches, every single lord will wish to claim the imperial throne. Do you remeber General Karft? The late emperor's greatest general."
"Uh, yeah I think so" Cadam responded
"He has taken control of the imperial city and most of the southern lands with it, he has spent the winter fighting back these yellow robe peasants and I suspect he shall soon move to subdue larger targets. You have proven yourself with your recent mission against the Yellow Robe camp north of here, I am going to send you on a diplomatic mission to Lord Mufid at Fort Zamok, you spent a summer there as a child."
"yes, I remember," Cadam said accidentally interrupting Ganjo, he was met with a glare before Ganjo returned to speaking.
"I will need to you persuade Mufid to join me against Karft, it will be difficult as he prefers to keep to himself, but I trust you will remind him of the urgency of this situation. One final note, the prisoners you captured will be executed tomorrow morning, publicly. It is necessary to remind the public how we deal with rebels"
Cadam was taken aback by this news and attempted to argue
"But father, are you sure that is best? One of them is a woman, what would people think of you executing a woman"
Ganjo raised an eyebrow in response to Cadam's outburst.
"Has spending time on the frozen roads made you forget your place boy? My word is final, I thought you knew better than to speak back. Remember to hold your tongue unless you want to end up like these prisoners you love so much"
And with that Ganjo left Cadam alone in the tower, to sit with the revelation that by sunrise, Nima's fate would be sealed, and she would be executed. And it was there, for the first time in his life, Cadam decided to disobey his father.

I was bored Saturday night. I had already fucked Maria, my housekeeper twice this afternoon before I sent her home, so I was not really looking for a fuck puppet at the moment. Sigh … I finally decided I would go out for a bite to eat.
I got cleaned up and dressed casual-upscale. I chose one of my exquisite Patek timepieces for my wrist, along with the normal digs (bracelets, rings, chokers, necklaces, etc…). I did not really desire any company tonight, but ultimately decided I needed to adorn my presence lest I be diminished in the minds of others. I chose “Azure”, one of my beater chicks. I called her up and asked her out to dinner. Of course she accepted my invitation immediately. She is a very attractive girl. I think she models, or acts, or some shit.
I picked up Azure at her flat at 9:30 pm. I drove my Aston Martin for the date, as I know this will send a tingle down her leg. We arrived at Nobu a couple minutes before 10. The maitre’d, Claude, looked a little pissed because it was so late, so I slipped him a hundy and he grudgingly seated us. I made a mental note to call Brad, the manager, tomorrow and complain. Brad and I play squash together at the club. I will have that prick Claude fired and homeless by this time tomorrow night.
I just wanted to sit back, sip on a glass or three of 25yr old Glenlivet, and people-watch. However, Azure had other plans. I am a very successful and handsome gentleman. It is not a brag; it is simply the fact of the matter. Literally thousands of attractive young ladies in this town would love to land me as a husband. Azure was no exception. As soon as we sat down she was all over me. Within 5 minutes she was stroking my cock through my trousers.
Frankly, I was not in the mood. Moreover, Azure is like a corpse in bed. I much prefer getting my rocks off with my feral housekeeper, Maria, than some cold fish like Azure. Maria fucks like a wild dog in heat.
Getting annoyed with her, but not wanting to ruin the chill vibe I yearned for tonight, I handed Azure a small silver pill box containing some primo nose candy. When she saw what it was a big grin came over her face and off she went to the restroom. I leaned my head back against the booth and relaxed, sipping my Scotch.
A swarthy looking waiter calling himself “Bruce” stopped by my table, disrupting my solitude with all sorts of pestering questions. Growing frustrated with what appeared to be a concerted effort to fuck up my evening, I grabbed Bruce by the collar of his shirt and yanked him close to me. With my other hand I flicked open my Microtech knife and put it to his throat. I told him that when I want to talk to him I will call him, and that if he comes to me uninvited again I would cut his fucking throat wide open and watch him bleed to death right there on the table before me. I asked the peasant if he understood. He nodded. Then I told him to fuck off, which he did. Back to my Scotch.
A few minutes later I received a phone call from Brad on my cell phone. “DID YOU JUST THREATEN TO KILL ONE OF MY WAITERS?!?”, he demanded to know. I calmly responded, “Jesus, Brad. I figured you would be more upset that I am fucking your wife than over me having a few words with one of your disgusting peasant waiters.”
Brad paused. In fact, I was not fucking his wife, not anymore. After she was diagnosed with colon cancer I just could not go there any more. It would just be … gross. In fact, she confided in me about her condition before she even told Brad.
I remember that we had just finished fucking in her and Brad’s bed. She started blathering on, so I went online on my phone shopping the gray market for a new Rolex Daytona. “What? What was that, sweetheart? Oh no, cancer!!!”, and yada yada, who gives a shit, right?
We hid the affair from Brad. But he probably suspected somebody was banging his wife, as was clear when he paused just then on the phone at my mere suggestion that I was bedding her down. Then he blurted out, “Fuck you, man! Ha ha ha!! But seriously, Bruce is a great guy and I don’t want to lose him. What am I supposed to do here?!?” I responded, “Fix it”, then hung up on him. I did not see Bruce after that, for the rest of the night.
Azure finally made it back to our table. You could almost hear the “buzz” coming through her eyes. “What a degenerate fucking bimbo”, I thought to myself. This dumb bitch could fall off the face of the Earth tomorrow and humanity would not even notice. She has family, I guess. But besides that, she is nothing to anyone (maybe not even her own family). If not for her willingness to be used as a whore and a social ornament, she would have absolutely no purpose in life whatsoever. I might feel sorry for her and her empty existence if I were capable of such a thing. But I am not, thank God.
I considered asking Azure back to my penthouse suite after dinner just so I could fire her off the fucking balcony and to the street below. But there would be police reports and all that bullshit. So I merely allowed her to blow me in my car as I drove her home. Honestly, I think she struggled with whether she should swallow or spit me into a ziplock baggy inside to preserve it as a trophy.
We said our goodbyes and Azure exited the car and headed toward her front door. I won’t lie, the thought of gunning my car and mowing her down on the curb crossed my mind. But, again, I did not want to have to deal with all the red tape.
It was already a little past midnight, but I was not quite ready to go home. I decided to drive over to “Zen’s Pleasure Palace”. Zen’s is an upscale sex club not far from Nobu. Usually single guys are not allowed entry. However, I know the manager, Ned. I did not even want to fuck, per se. I wanted to shoot some H and relax with some Scotch as I watched others fuck.
By 2:30 am I was in a sex room and layed out on a beanbag watching a very serious orgy unfold. I was tight too, and feeling good. Pretty soon this Asian chick had my erect member out of my pants and in her mouth. The pleasure was intoxicating and I was enjoying it immensely, as was she. Suddenly there came a screaming that interrupted my ecstasy.
“GET THAT FUCKER’S COCK OUT OF YOUR MOUTH!! I DON’T WANT YOU GETTING SHIT IN THAT MONEY MAKER, YOU FUCKING WHORE!!!”, said the intruder.
Of course, I knew exactly who it was. It was Milo, a/k/a Jersey. He is a Cambodian sex trafficker that leases his women to brothels such as Zen’s. I honestly did not know Milo was working this side of town tonight, so the mistake was an honest one on my part.
I opened my eyes and looked at the sad fucker. “Hey man! What’s going on?”, I said to him. The silly bastard then had the audacity to pull a pistol on me. I asked, “Come on, dude, are you still pissed about what happened on the docks?!?” I could tell from his expression that he was.
See, 6 months ago I was banging some of Milo’s Asian whores down at a place on the docks called “Sammy’s”. I was coked out of my mind, and banging 2, 3 girls at once. I paid for them, of course. It was a wild scene. Everybody was flying high and having a good time.
Then my Coke dealer, Rodriguez, came storming into the club, guns blazing. He had learned earlier in the day that I has been fucking his wife, the most beautiful and sexy Tatiana, from the Nuevo Cartel. In fact, he left a voice mail that I heard earlier pledging to hunt me down and murder me. But then I got so jacked on blow and liquor I completely forgot about it and went whoring.
In fact, it was worse than that. See, Rodriguez owns Sammy’s. But like I said, I was completely out of my mind. I guess some of his minions informed him of my presence there while he was out trying to find me.
Rodriguez walked right up to me as I was being blown by one of Milo’s chicks and said, “esse’ you got a lot of nerve coming here, of all places.” I knew I had to act fast. I quickly reached over to my coat and retrieved my smg, then I opened fire with extreme prejudice. Interestingly, the Asian chick on my cock did not miss a beat through all this.
I dropped the empty mag and loaded another. By the time I was finished the only living creatures left in Sammy’s was me and the lil Asian chick still attached to my cock. Growing paranoid as a result of this assassination attempt and all the blow, I heard my voice in the back of my head say “No witnesses”. So I blew my load, twice. I will leave it to you, gentle reader, to determine which load was blown first.
Getting back to Milo, he was incensed. “Of course I am still pissed about the docks!!! You whacked 17 of my girls that night, you fucking degenerate asshole!!”, he said. I shrugged, which seemed to irritate him more,
Finally, I sighed, let my head fall backwards, and said “Fine. Fine. How much?” Milo asked “How much for what?” I said “How much for the fucking whores I offed that night at the docks. Jesus Christ, Milo.” Milo thought for a moment, then said $20,000.00. I said “I will give you ten”. Milo agreed, I paid him, and then I got back to what I was doing before he barged into my good time.
It was now around 5:00 am. I was getting a little tired, but I still was not quite ready to go home. I hopped into the Aston Martin and took off. I realized I was near the south side Rolex AD (authorized dealer). I had the manager, Chad, on my speed dial.
“CHAD!! Hey, buddy! It’s me! Get your ass up and meet me down at the store in 10 minutes. I want a new watch!”, I said. Chad hem and hawed around, saying is was Sunday morning and that he was in the hospital with his wife who had just been in a terrible car wreck earlier in the evening, and other bullshit.
“Come on, Chad. Don’t be a fag! I am ready to buy, buy, buy!! What you got?!?”, I asked. Chad started fake crying, telling me he was not sure his wife was going to pull through, and how he did not know what he and the kids would do without her. I rolled my eyes. I was flying down Lexington Avenue doing 110 mph, just a couple minutes from the AD. “Dude, she is not going anywhere. She will be there when you get back. It is not like she is fucking dying or anything”, I told him, completely oblivious to Chad’s prior comment that his wife may not pull through.
Chad is married to this Ukrainian whore named Slovakia or some stupid ship. I used to feed her coke and fuck her silly while Chad was working. It’s too bad she was about to bite the big one. But, who fucking cares, you know?
I finally got Chad down to the store at 6:15 am. He told me his wife kept flatlining but he had a handful of timepieces in the back he was eager to show me. These Rolex ADs, ha ha ha! They don’t care who is fucking dying if it means getting a commission of a $20K watch!
By 8:00 am I bought a Newman Daytona and a used Kermit. We had a few drinks there too, and did some lines. By 9:00 am I was on a phone call with Milo to get some of his whores sent to my penthouse for me and Chad to party with. We agreed to a price, I paid it, and he would have 5 Vietnamese girls at my place by noon.
With time to kill, I told Chad that we needed to score some more blow, for us and the girls. He agreed. First, we stopped by the liquor store for a couple fifths of Johnny Walker Blue, which we sipped on as I drove us over to Frédérique’s flat for coke. Fred is one of my dealers, and he has got some good shit.
We were at Fred’s place for an hour. Fred was higher than a fucking kite and talking a million miles an hour. He insisted on lecturing Chad and I about the finer points of West Coast thrash metal vs. East coast hardcore. It was, frankly, excruciating. Then shit took a weird turn.
Suddenly, some blond dude in a Hawaiian flower shirt busted out of one of the rooms in Fred’s flat blasting shots from a high caliber revolver. I looked over at my buddy Chad, then “SPLAT!!!!!” One of the bullets from this maniac’s gun hit Chad in the head, blowing his head apart like an invigorated Gallagher smashing watermelons with his Sledge-O-Matic. Blood, brain, and bone fragments were everywhere.
Unbeknownst to me, Fred’s wife, Anaconda, had entered the room behind me carrying a sawed off shotgun. “BAMMM!!!!” The mysterious gunman was on the floor dead from buckshot ripping his brain into shreds. Fred and Ana then got into a huge argument in a foreign language, with Fred following her as she stormed off into another room. I decided it was time for me to leave lest I be late for Milo.
As I was making my way out of Fred’s place I heard another gunshot. I winced at the possibility of losing my best dealer. “Son of a bitch!”, I said to myself.
I got home at 5 til noon. I let myself inside and made myself a drink. Time passed. That shit Milo never showed up. And I had already paid him $5,000.00 on my credit card. I was getting pissed. I was also getting horny. Maria did not come in that day. I went through the contacts on my phone. Azure, Tatiana, Brandy, Ameko, Donnaella, Domino, Slovakia ….
“Ohhhhhh … Slavakia!! That is one hot piece of fuck meat!! Let me call her!!!”, I said. I rang her up but there was no answer. I called a couple times more but still no answer. Not wanting to be denied, I texted her “Hey, baby!! Can’t wait to see you again soon and pound that sweet ass of yours!”
An hour later and still no return communication. I thought to myself, “What the fuck?!? Did you fucking die or something?!? Jesus Christ!!” Then I had a wicked thought. “Maybe I will tell Chad I have been fucking his wife. That will fix her! Ha ha ha ha!!!!”
I started feeling kind of shitty after that. I tried to remember when I last ate, but could not. I was very aware that I was super strung out at the moment. I was unsure of how long I had been awake. I needed sleep.
I took some ludes and drank half a bottle of Cabernet. Pretty soon I started calming down and relaxing. By this point it is late Sunday afternoon. I needed to pull myself together. I had to show up straight in Delaware tomorrow for the plea deal. As much as I dreaded it, at least after tomorrow everything will finally be over with for good. Sigh…
Suddenly, I got a notification on my phone. It was a text from dad. It said, “Good luck in court tomorrow, Beau! Dad”.

I'm getting rid of some knives that don't see much carry or use these days. Open to selling them or trading them. Trade interests will be at the end of this post.
Payment methods accepted: Venmo, Zelle, Money Order
The spydercos have boxes, the Frenzy and Spartan do too, the others have no factory box.
Prices include shipping and paypal fees.
Some items are on a 2 day temporary hold. I tried selling these on knifeswap but ran into issues with paypal. if you're interested just post "seconds" and if the original buyer is no longer interested you'll be first in line.
timestamp updated timestamp
SPYDERCOS

• (On 2 day hold) Police 4 K390/Pakkawood. pic 1 pic 2. This is a really cool Police. It was originally a K390 / G10 non-seconds Police. Then I put pakkawood scales from a hap40 run on with the longer hardware needed to accomodate the scales. Clips black finish was sanded off to match the overall aesthetic. Sharpened, carried, used, got some patina, etc. TV $180 / SV $150
  
• (On 2 day hold) Manix XL 4V. pic 1 pic 2. This was originally a st nicks 4V Manix XL sprint. Removed the scales since I dislike red scales and put on scales from the BHQ M4 run (the M4 one is the XL I decided to keep). The M4 scales were dyed kelly green then dyed a second time on the ends with black for a dual fade. 4V blade was given a thin, coarse edge like all my pocket knives. Cuts aggressively and for much longer than mirror edges. TV $180 / SV $150.
  
• SOLD Manix XL S30V. pic 1 pic 2 pic 3. So lets cut to the chase, the mods. Straightened the spine, ground down the obnoxious handle jimping, acid etched the blade, swapped scales with the 4V run, thinned the edge etc. Looked cooler when I had the green & black scales from the 4V Manix on it. Everything is perfectly functional after all the mods, I've carried and used it plenty. The jimping removal makes it feel much better in my grip, closer to the OG C95 which I also own. TV $100 / SV$90
  
• (On 2 day hold) Native Chief M4. pic 1 pic 2. Feels weird posting this, it was my #1 carry for a while. M4 BHQ sprint Chief with scales dyed a light green and the edges also hand contoured. The Chief comes with really blocky feeling scales with hard corners and the hand rounding makes a big difference. I won't even carry a stock Chief, I do this mod to all of mine. The knife was sharpened, carried and used, because that's what I do with my pocket knives. Some patina. TV $175 / SV $145
  
• Ronin 2. pic 1 pic 2. Bought for utility. Sharpened, carried and used. Pretty nie box cutter. Will fulfill its design purpose just as well as a new one. TV $80 / SV $65
  
• Pacific Salt 1 blacked out. pic 1 pic 2. When Spyderco discontinued the Pacific Salt 1 it was my favorite knife at the time and I bought a bunch of backups. This is a lightly used one I got at that time. Blacked out gen 1 with a factory edge. It was used by the previous owner but not much as its still sharp. TV $85 / SV $70
  
• SOLD Pacific Salt 2 NIB. Pic 1 Pic 2. Brand new blacked out Pacific Salt 2 PE H1. TV $100 / SV $89
  
• Pacific Salt 1 NIB. pic 1 pic 2. NIB Pacific Salt 1 PE satin blade with screw pivot and rounded clip, meaning it was a later run. TV $100 / SV $85
  
• SOLD Pacific Salt 2 Waved. pic 1 pic 2. Lets discuss the elephant in the room. The wave mod looks like utter shit, it's ugly as fuck. But yes, it does work great. This knife taught me I don't really like waves. If you wonder why it looks so bad it's because I used a 1x30 belt sander to do the mod - not the best tool for the job at all. It has been sharpened on a sharpmaker a bit and carried but only left the house maybe 4 times since I bought it brand new. TV $70 / SV $55
  
• Aqua Salt. pic 1 pic 2 pic 3 This is one of the best knives ever made. Only reason I'm selling this is I talked myself into being ok with owning 5 of them instead of 6. I picked my least used user to post for sale. This one was picked up from a seconds sale where they sold without sheaths. Luckily I had an extra sheath I bought previously. These are incredibly tough, incredibly light, rust proof and killer cutters with a thin, coarse edge. My most used fixed blade model over the last 20 years, they can fill any role from bushcraft to hiking to fishing to diving. TV $140 / SV $120
  
• (On 2 day hold) Stretch XL Salt. pic 1 pic 2. Thought this would be "the one" as a big Pacific Salt fan that always wanted a larger salt......but Spydercos definition of XL and mine are different I guess. It's the same size as a Pacific Salt. I gave it a thin, coarse edge and dyed the scales green because I'm predictable like that. TV $90 / SV $70
  
• SOLD Pacific Salt LC200N. pic 1 pic 2. User LC200N Pacific Salt. Usual mods. Dyed green, thin coarse edge, and like all my Pacifics gave it a pointier tip. The story behind the scales is I planned to dye the ugly bright green black but then got the idea to try a fade on the second scale and liked how it turned out. Stealthy in pocket but not so boring when its out. Very nice geometry paired with a very thin edge make this a light saber. TV $80 / SV $65
  
• (On 2 day hold) Resilience combo. pic 1 pic 2. Pair of Resilience users. The overall design is one of Spydercos best, I'm just not wild about liner locks. Getting rid of them all. The G10 one was used for a sharpie trick video and I never bothered to clean off the marker, but it'll come off easily. It has one stripped body screw but works fine. The FRN one has no issues. Both are sharp and ready to go. Only sold / traded as a pair. TV $59 / SV $49
  

COLD STEEL

• Frenzy. pic 1 pic 2 NIB blue S35VN version. Backup to my user. TV $110 / SV $94
  
• SOLD Spartan. pic 1 pic 2 Like New. Bought it, tried out the wave once or twice and handled it a bit. The grip area is a bit too small for me. This has a full flat ground AUS10 blade. I know some are saber ground, and the one on the box is too. Very rugged and capable feeling, just not designed for XXL hands despite the overall size. TV $60 / SV $50
  
• American Lawman. pic 1 pic 2 I bought this off here and sharpened it up and carried it a few times. Amazingly thin and light in the pocket, carries incredibly. Cuts well and took a great edge. Only reason I'm selling it, is I find it a little small for my grip. This is the current S35VN version with a nice DLC finish. TV $80 / SV $69 ;) ;)
  
• (On 2 day hold) Code 4. pic 1 pic 2. Great knife that carries very well like the Lawman. Bought it here, gave it an edge since it came butter knife dull, and carried it twice. I prefer the slightly bigger Recon 1. Unmarked blade steel so I would guess this is the older AUS version. TV $50 / SV $40
  

MISC BRANDS

• Kabar TDI combo. pic 1 pic 2. The smaller one is in good shape. Was sharpened because the factory edge was absolute garbage. Sheath clip shows some carry wear. Large one is ugly but still cuts. I used it to practice reprofiling on my belt sander and scratched it up pretty good. Note I lost the straps for the sheath. Take both for TV $50 / SV $35
  
• SOLD Clinch Pic. pic 1 pic 2 Bought it here on a whim because I was always curious about them. Not something I'd ever carry. Marks from sheath rub. Factory edge that I stropped a bit because it could be sharper. TV $50 / SV $35
  

TRADE INTERESTS

• ESEE 3. Either steel. 3D scales preferred.
• ESEE 4. Either steel. 3D scales preferred.
• Cold Steel Recon XL's.
• Cold Steel Recon 1's.
• Bushcrafty fixed blades
• Spyderco Chinooks (any gen)
• Spyderco Catcherman
• Spyderco Police 3's
• Choppers & machetes
• sharpening stuff (prefer diamonds and ceramics to stones that need flattening fyi)

Not interested in folders with blades under 4"

EDIT - I ran into issues with paypal. After a few hours back and forth with them, I decided it would be easier to issue refunds to everyone and post the knives somewhere that doesn't require dealing with paypal. Sorry for the inconvenience guys, but paypal is complete ass
I'm getting rid of some knives that don't see much carry or use these days. Open to selling them or trading them. Trade interests will be at the end of this post.
The spydercos have their boxes, the Frenzy and Spartan do too, the others have no factory box.
Prices include shipping and paypal fees.
timestamp
SPYDERCOS

• SOLD Police 4 K390/Pakkawood. pic 1 pic 2. This is a really cool Police. It was originally a K390 / G10 non-seconds Police. Then I put pakkawood scales from a hap40 run on with the longer hardware needed to accomodate the scales. Clips black finish was sanded off to match the overall aesthetic. Sharpened, carried, used, got some patina, etc. TV $180 / SV $150
  
• SOLD Manix XL 4V. pic 1 pic 2. This was originally a st nicks 4V Manix XL sprint. Removed the scales since I dislike red scales and put on scales from the BHQ M4 run (the M4 one is the XL I decided to keep). The M4 scales were dyed kelly green then dyed a second time on the ends with black for a dual fade. 4V blade was given a thin, coarse edge like all my pocket knives. Cuts aggressively and for much longer than mirror edges. TV $180 / SV $150.
  
• SOLD Manix XL S30V. pic 1 pic 2 pic 3. So lets cut to the chase, the mods. Straightened the spine, ground down the obnoxious handle jimping, acid etched the blade, swapped scales with the 4V run, thinned the edge etc. Looked cooler when I had the green & black scales from the 4V Manix on it. Everything is perfectly functional after all the mods, I've carried and used it plenty. The jimping removal makes it feel much better in my grip, closer to the OG C95 which I also own. TV $100 / SV$90
  
• SOLD Native Chief M4. pic 1 pic 2. Feels weird posting this, it was my #1 carry for a while. M4 BHQ sprint Chief with scales dyed a light green and the edges also hand contoured. The Chief comes with really blocky feeling scales with hard corners and the hand rounding makes a big difference. I won't even carry a stock Chief, I do this mod to all of mine. The knife was sharpened, carried and used, because that's what I do with my pocket knives. Some patina. TV $175 / SV $145
  
• SOLD Ronin 2. pic 1 pic 2. Bought for utility. Sharpened, carried and used. Pretty nie box cutter. Will fulfill its design purpose just as well as a new one. TV $80 / SV $65
  
• Pacific Salt 1 blacked out. pic 1 pic 2. When Spyderco discontinued the Pacific Salt 1 it was my favorite knife at the time and I bought a bunch of backups. This is a lightly used one I got at that time. Blacked out gen 1 with a factory edge. It was used by the previous owner but not much as its still sharp. TV $85 / SV $70
  
• SOLD Pacific Salt 2 NIB. Pic 1 Pic 2. Brand new blacked out Pacific Salt 2 PE H1. TV $100 / SV $89
  
• Pacific Salt 1 NIB. pic 1 pic 2. NIB Pacific Salt 1 PE satin blade with screw pivot and rounded clip, meaning it was a later run. TV $100 / SV $85
  
• SOLD Pacific Salt 2 Waved. pic 1 pic 2. Lets discuss the elephant in the room. The wave mod looks like utter shit, it's ugly as fuck. But yes, it does work great. This knife taught me I don't really like waves. If you wonder why it looks so bad it's because I used a 1x30 belt sander to do the mod - not the best tool for the job at all. It has been sharpened on a sharpmaker a bit and carried but only left the house maybe 4 times since I bought it brand new. TV $70 / SV $55
  
• Aqua Salt. pic 1 pic 2 pic 3 This is one of the best knives ever made. Only reason I'm selling this is I talked myself into being ok with owning 5 of them instead of 6. I picked my least used user to post for sale. This one was picked up from a seconds sale where they sold without sheaths. Luckily I had an extra sheath I bought previously. These are incredibly tough, incredibly light, rust proof and killer cutters with a thin, coarse edge. My most used fixed blade model over the last 20 years, they can fill any role from bushcraft to hiking to fishing to diving. TV $140 / SV $120
  
• SOLDStretch XL Salt. pic 1 pic 2. Thought this would be "the one" as a big Pacific Salt fan that always wanted a larger salt......but Spydercos definition of XL and mine are different I guess. It's the same size as a Pacific Salt. I gave it a thin, coarse edge and dyed the scales green because I'm predictable like that. TV $90 / SV $70
  
• SOLD Pacific Salt LC200N. pic 1 pic 2. User LC200N Pacific Salt. Usual mods. Dyed green, thin coarse edge, and like all my Pacifics gave it a pointier tip. The story behind the scales is I planned to dye the ugly bright green black but then got the idea to try a fade on the second scale and liked how it turned out. Stealthy in pocket but not so boring when its out. Very nice geometry paired with a very thin edge make this a light saber. TV $80 / SV $65
  
• SOLD Resilience combo. pic 1 pic 2. Pair of Resilience users. The overall design is one of Spydercos best, I'm just not wild about liner locks. Getting rid of them all. The G10 one was used for a sharpie trick video and I never bothered to clean off the marker, but it'll come off easily. It has one stripped body screw but works fine. The FRN one has no issues. Both are sharp and ready to go. Only sold / traded as a pair. TV $59 / SV $49
  

COLD STEEL

• Frenzy. pic 1 pic 2 NIB blue S35VN version. Backup to my user. TV $110 / SV $94
  
• SOLD Spartan. pic 1 pic 2 Like New. Bought it, tried out the wave once or twice and handled it a bit. The grip area is a bit too small for me. This has a full flat ground AUS10 blade. I know some are saber ground, and the one on the box is too. Very rugged and capable feeling, just not designed for XXL hands despite the overall size. TV $60 / SV $50
  
• American Lawman. pic 1 pic 2 I bought this off here and sharpened it up and carried it a few times. Amazingly thin and light in the pocket, carries incredibly. Cuts well and took a great edge. Only reason I'm selling it, is I find it a little small for my grip. This is the current S35VN version with a nice DLC finish. TV $80 / SV $69 ;) ;)
  
• SOLD Code 4. pic 1 pic 2. Great knife that carries very well like the Lawman. Bought it here, gave it an edge since it came butter knife dull, and carried it twice. I prefer the slightly bigger Recon 1. Unmarked blade steel so I would guess this is the older AUS version. TV $50 / SV $40
  

MISC BRANDS

• Kabar TDI combo. pic 1 pic 2. The smaller one is in good shape. Was sharpened because the factory edge was absolute garbage. Sheath clip shows some carry wear. Large one is ugly but still cuts. I used it to practice reprofiling on my belt sander and scratched it up pretty good. Note I lost the straps for the sheath. Take both for TV $50 / SV $35
  
• SOLD Clinch Pic. pic 1 pic 2 Bought it here on a whim because I was always curious about them. Not something I'd ever carry. Marks from sheath rub. Factory edge that I stropped a bit because it could be sharper. TV $50 / SV $35
  

TRADE INTERESTS

• ESEE 3. Either steel. 3D scales preferred.
• ESEE 4. Either steel. 3D scales preferred.
• Cold Steel Recon XL's.
• Cold Steel Recon 1's.
• Bushcrafty fixed blades
• Spyderco Chinooks (any gen)
• Spyderco Catcherman
• Choppers & machetes
• sharpening stuff (prefer diamonds and ceramics to stones that need flattening fyi)

Not interested in folders with blades under 4". Prefer users to minty collectors items, since anything I trade for will get sharpened and used.
Well, that took forever. Hope I didn't make any mistakes. Got some more knives and some watches I'll post soon. Thanks for taking a look!

This is not finished and is written out of order so I may write part one one day and part two another they are ment to have diffrent style and be a bit bad.
Old Testiment as Written By Sir Eddie Murphy
Genesis
With his hands and ass cheeks he created our universe and infused it with life. He did this after he had one too many chicken Alfredos; the rupture caused him to poop with such force it caused a bang. A big bang. The bang caused earth to form. At this time it was just an empty wasteland with no life. However shrek with his omnibevelence wiped his ass with earth after the great shart. This invigorated the earth with things such as the grass and dirt we stand on and the cow birds and Mexicans we see. Shrek saw the earth and saw it was good. He named it the great onion in the sky. Finally Shrek created the things that mortal men can not see. Feelings. Hunger and thirst among other things. The reason shrek created hunger and feelings of sadness is that he new with his omniscience that they would lead to the creation of the chicken Alfredos form before. With this shrek created death as all must have an opposite and death is the unlucky opposite of life. This pained shrek to see his beloved creatures die so he created an afterlife so great and unfathomable that no mortal human could understand. This was named the great Taco Bell beyond the sky. With this creation he came down to the earth and formed the only country's the UK, Beeston, Spain, Saudi Arabia, Bramley and Australia however that has now been destroyed.
Early workings
After shrek made the world and lit it up with the stars in the night sky. He made the first human a man of pure faith and love for all who love shrek. Butter pants. Butter pants was sent down to watch the inhabitants and what they do, for shrek gave them free will. Butter pants became restless however after some time and so was given from shrek a wife and here was the first woman. Lois Griffin. They spent thier days with shrek on earth. Playing, telling stories and overall living a carefree life. After some time butter pants and lois griffin had kids. Three children Bob sob and George and in thier childhood they lived much the same as their perants. However, when they grew up they began to become more restless. Arguments rose and fell quickly like sparks. The three boys began to despise not just each other but thier family and shrek. This lead to the three boys leaving shrek to live somewhere else they all set off alone in diffrent directions. After many more years of distance to shrek the three boys began to forget. Not thier anger towards each other, although the argument that started had been lost, but their love for shrek. However one day one of the three boys sob discided to meet again with shrek for a request. "Lord please give me mercy for I beg of you a wife or a child". The Lord forgave sob and bestowed on him a child. The best ever seen. Three years past and the child named Mr bean was showing incredible intelligence and was growing quickly and nicely. Sob had now reconciled with lois and butter pants and they lived happily with each other. But the other boys became jealous and planned to kill Mr bean at night. Late one night they set thier plan into action and when all were asleep they suffocated the child without a sound. However with some sixth sense butter pants woke up and ran into the room to see his beloved dead. Feelings of anger, hate, sadness and distress fell over him like a great weight. He screamed and shouted at the boys and them tried to get his revenge. And after a while of fighting sob killed George. Shrek awoke along with lois griffin and he stormed into the room. "What have you done you animals" shrek screamed the boys did nothing for they saw the power of shrek never seen by man. "You live a life without me and you murder directly going against my will. For this you shall be punished as one of the weak in the world already unforgiven as blind mice together with the lost George. I leave you now for I never knew you".
The the aftermath
Shrek sent down along with lois and butter pants many men and woman to earth and split them out across the lands. Story's of shrek were told but they were eventually lost or warped beyond repair. Many generation came and when developing with the lost power of shrek. Because of this lost power they now fought with new pains. However shrek still loved humanity. The three blind mice lived as a testament to shreks wrath although they were seen as a legend and two the human eye seen as just mice.
To worship shrek
Shrek must be worshiped in a shrek church (an onion shaped dome to signify the warm and layers shrek brings to us) and do the Thug Shake. Hymns can also be sung like All Star. The shrek community needs to look after one another and this goes for humanity as a whole. The shrek onion is not only a place of worship but a place of giving.
The nature of shrek
Shrek is all powerful and all knowing he sees all that has happened all that is happening and all that will happen. Shrek does not have an age. He is master of all. There before the first silence was broken. He loves all who belive in him. I bear witness their is no God But Shrek.
La historia del pus en las botas
Un momento concreto en el que Eddie estaba difundiendo la buena palabra de shrek en España. Se encontró con un gato solitario; Eddie se apiadó del gato y recordó sus viejos tiempos como un burro normal. Eddie decidió acoger al gato como propio. Durante muchos años entrenó al gato llamándolo pus. El gato dominaba el cuchillo y luchaba contra los criminales de su ciudad. Pus oró para Shrek todos los días y con la ayuda de Eddie abrió un jardín público de cebollas para que la gente comiera y donara. Un día, por gracia de Shrek, le regalaron botas y lo consideraron pus en las botas.
This next segment was made by chatgpt
Title: "The Gingerbread Guardian"
In the quaint village of Sugarlandia, where the scent of freshly baked cookies filled the air, there lived a humble baker named Mrs. Butterbuns. Known far and wide for her delectable treats, Mrs. Butterbuns had a secret ingredient that gave her creations a magical touch: a pinch of stardust harvested from the heavens above. One crisp autumn day, as Mrs. Butterbuns was preparing her famous gingerbread cookies for the annual Harvest Festival, something extraordinary happened. As she sprinkled the stardust into the dough, a tiny spark ignited, and from the oven emerged a gingerbread man unlike any other. With a mischievous grin and a twinkle in his eye, the Gingerbread Guardian came to life, imbued with the wisdom of the stars and a mission to protect the village from harm. As word of the miraculous cookie spread, so too did the tale of the Gingerbread Guardian. Children gathered round to hear stories of his daring adventures, from foiling the plans of the mischievous Candy Bandits to rescuing lost kittens from the treacherous Toffee Swamp. But amidst the laughter and joy, a shadow loomed on the horizon. The wicked Witch of the Wastelands, jealous of the village's prosperity, devised a dastardly scheme to steal the magical stardust for herself. With her army of sugary minions, the witch launched an assault on Sugarlandia, intent on capturing the Gingerbread Guardian and seizing control of his celestial powers. But the people of Sugarlandia refused to surrender without a fight. Armed with rolling pins and cookie cutters, they rallied to the defense of their beloved guardian, standing shoulder to shoulder against the encroaching darkness. In the epic battle that ensued, sugar flew and frosting splattered as the forces of good and evil clashed in a showdown of epic proportions. With courage and determination, the Gingerbread Guardian led the charge, his gingerbread heart ablaze with the fire of righteousness. In the end, it was not brute strength or magic that prevailed, but the power of friendship and unity. Together, the villagers and their guardian vanquished the witch and her minions, restoring peace and harmony to Sugarlandia once more. And so, the legend of the Gingerbread Guardian lived on, a sweet reminder that even the smallest among us can make a difference in the world, one sprinkle of stardust at a time.
The beginning of the shrek religion
For thousands of years shrek kept silent on his existence. Watching over the earth not interfering with anything. This was to wait for the perfect moment when humanity was ready. This fist contact happened happened to Eddie Murphy. Eddie was a poor donkey just like any other. He waited for nothing wandering like a lost soul. He lived on a farm with an farmer however they was not treated equally. Eddie lived outside with no shelter eating grass. While the farmer ate grand feists with his family. Shrek did not like this shrek loved donkey can couldn't sand to see them be treated in such a way. So one day shrek, for the first time ever, came down to Eddie and gave him knowledge, knowledge that no mortal had had to this point. The knowledge to save humanity. With this gift shrek also granted Eddie with the gift of speech. With the help of shrek Eddie managed to jump the fence leading to his freedom from the farmer and into the town square. Their he shouted with glee that he had seen God. "Shrek" "shrek" "that is his name" the people in the town were confused and in awe of seeing a talking donkey. But then from the sky out dropped a seed that dropped next to Eddie's feet. Eddie shouted with all his might "plant this seed as it is the seed of shrek". One of the humans stepped up to pick up thr seed and planted it for Eddie. And when asked his name he said proudly "Farquad". But then from the ground sprouted a large white onion. Eddie raised his voice again "spread the word of shrek as I will. I hope to see you all in the kingdom of shrek." From thier Eddie set off on a voyage to spread the good word of shrek and farquad was appointed leader of the village.
The fall of lord farquad
Under the rule of farquad the village grew quickly. Many people came from around the world to see the great onion. They built holy places to shrek to worship him around the globe. However as the years past religion became less important and lord farquad became more greedy untill life for the people became worse while farquad lived a lavish life forgetting his Shrek given purpose. Until one day Eddie came back to see what had happened to the village. He was shocked to see little to nobody worshiping shrek. They were too busy being over worked by farquad. It seemed like their was nothing Eddie could do so he did what he always did in times of need. Pray. And shrek answered. From the heavens he brought Butter pants. Together with Eddie they came up with a plan to over take lord farquad. Under the blanket of night the three suck into the Palace of lord farquad and into his bedroom. "What are you doing here donkey" lord farquad said "What have you done too the holy land Eddie retorted "What I needed too" shouted lord farquad. But then from the shadows butter pants appeared. "Do the roar" he said. Lord Farquad looked confused. "Do the roar" he repeated many more times untill the annoyance reached its peak. "Shut up" farquad screamed. Farquad had to stop the noise. Somehow and the only way he knew was to jump. "Do the roar" was repeated many more times untill lord farquad had enough and shouted 'ill jump if you don't shut up". The last thing lord farquad heard before he jumped was "Do the roar". The village for years to come became a holy land for all.
The afterlife
Years had past. Eddie was now far from his foal days. He now lived his days in a bed each day shorter of breath and one day closer to death. Untill one day he died with his pussy beside him he prayed. The pain of his heart soon relived and he was sent to the great Taco Bell beyond the sky. There he met shrek. "Sup I'm god" shrek said eating his 4th chalupa that day. Eddie looked around at the Taco Bell. It was all onions. Shrek finished his chalupa and said "Eddie Murphy you are my most trusted. When I one day come down to humanity come with me you are my protector". Eddie left to see what the afterlife offered but their was so much so many layers to go. He met Danny devio. No I will not explain further. Its an after life joke you non afterlife people wouldn't understand.
Pus post Eddie's death
Seeing the death of his parental figure broke pus. However though the clouds he saw shrek who comforted pus during these times. Throughout the day he stopped crime however at night he stayed at the milk bar to the early hours of the morning this behaviour culminated during a night like any other when he was kidnapped. Hours went by in the carriage when pus was finally unmasked. Lord Farquad stood in front of him. Pus had heard stories of farquad and how he died so how could he be here. Pus didn't know all he did know was that he needed to finnish farquad once and for all. Pus thought though all off lord farquads monologue and then remembered. Chalupa. With the chalupa he ate hours ago still in his belly he let rip a fart so loud it could be heard in the great Taco Bell beyond the sky. This riped out his shackles and laughed him straight to farquad. The guards were none the wiser when he snuck behind farquad and pulled his pants down causing farquad to die of embarrassment and crush pus. This act sent pus to the after life wear he met shrek.
The fight of humpty dumpty and butter pants
マスターハンプティダンプティの戦い バターパンツが刀を振り上げた。 「咆哮をやれ」。ハンプティはバターパンツに飽きていて、決闘で彼と1対1を望んでいた。しかし、突然武装を解除されたハンプティーダンプティーに向かって突進したとき、バターパンツにはシュレックとアニメの力が味方していた。 「咆哮するか？」。彼はこれを止められず、何とかこの状況から抜け出す方法を考えなければなりませんでした。そう、彼の天才的な計画は、シュレックの助けなしには誰も思いつきませんでした。それで彼は計画を実行し、ハンプティーダンプティーにぶつかっただけで死んでしまいました。彼は卵であり、したがって非常に弱いからです。
Humpty dumptys return
جلس هامبتي دمبتي على جدار أحد المتاجر وألقى باللوم في إصاباته على السقوط الكبير. كانت ليلة عربية باردة حيث جلس هامبتي دمبتي على جمله في أقصى الصحراء حيث زرع الحبة السحرية. كان يعلم الآن أن بوس وإيدي ماتا ويمكنه العودة.
Ingredients to shrek brownies
You likely already have the ingredients you'll need for these easy brownies on hand:
· Sugar: These easy brownies start with two cups of white sugar. · Flour: All-purpose flour creates structure in the batter. · Butter: Two sticks of melted butter give the brownies moisture and richness. · Eggs: Eggs lend even more moisture. Plus, they help bind the batter together. · Cocoa powder: Of course, you'll need cocoa powder for chocolate brownies! · Vanilla: Vanilla extract enhances the overall flavor of the brownies. · Baking powder: Baking powder acts as a leavener, which means it helps the brownies rise. · Salt: A pinch of salt enhances the flavors of the other ingredients. · Walnuts: Nuts are optional, of course, but they add a welcome crunch.
Shrek orders at Wendy's
"Hello can I please get a baconator with large fries and a coke" he said burping mid way through. "Would you like to make that a meal said the drive through worker. "Yes" So that day shrek got a baconator with large fries and a. Wait they forgot his coke. Shrek was mad however as he is an omnibevelent God he only destroyed the entire country the Wendy's was on. The country was Australia so if you hear anyone say anything about Australia it is your duty to slap them and say shrek got rid of Australia. So moral of the story is. I don't know actually know ummmmm don't forget your coke.
The poem of shrek
Shrek is the one he is our call For he is my love and my soul He is the light to my darkness And the darkness to my light He will bring the world to an end Shrek is love shrek is life
Breaking shrek
"Eddie Murphy we need to cook" said shrek "Yo Mr shrek like zoinks scoob we need lots of meth" shouted Eddie. So for the rest of the day they cooked meth untill the evil hank shrader from the hit TV show Breaking bad showed up "Stop cooking drugs it's bad" "No" said shrek "OK" They lived out the rest off thier days cooking meth and lived happily ever after.
All star
Somebody once told me the world is gonna roll me I ain’t the sharpest tool in the shed ♪ She was lookin’ kind of dumb with her finger and her thumb ♪ In the shape of an "L" on her forehead ♪ The years start comin’ and they don’t stop comin’ ♪ Fed to the rules and I hit the ground runnin’ ♪ Didn’t make sense not to live for fun ♪ Your brain gets smart but your head gets dumb ♪ So much to do ♪ So much to see ♪ So what’s wrong with takin’ the backstreets ♪ You’ll never know if you don’t go ♪ You’ll never shine if you don’t glow ♪ Hey, now ♪ You’re an all-star ♪ Get your game on, go play ♪ Hey, now, you’re a rock star ♪ Get the show on, get paid ♪ And all that glitters is gold ♪ Only shootin’ stars break the mold ♪ It’s a cool place and they say it gets colder ♪ You’re bundled up now but wait till you get older ♪ But the meteor men beg to differ ♪ Judging by the hole in the satellite picture ♪ The ice we skate is gettin’ pretty thin ♪ The water’s getting warm so you might as well swim My world’s on fire ♪ How ‘bout yours ♪ That’s the way I like it and I’ll never get bored ♪ Hey now you’re an all-star [shouting] [singing] ♪ Get your game on, go play ♪ Hey, now, you’re a rock star ♪ Get the show on, get paid ♪ And all that glitters is gold ♪ Only shootin’ stars break the mold ♪
Shrek gets added to fortnite
Once upon a time shrek got added to fortnite with the Eddie Murphy backbling and onion glider. "Hello shrek welcome to fortnite" said Peter Griffin hitting a devious griddy. Tehetehe Shrek went on to get the victory Royal with goku lady gaga and bender form futerama.
Got a random guy to write this
Imagine Shrek traveling back in time and encountering a younger version of his great grandfather, Baby Gronk, in the present day. Baby Gronk might be a mischievous but endearing character, possibly with some ogre-like tendencies but in a smaller form. Shrek, with his big heart and sometimes gruff exterior, might find a kindred spirit in Baby Gronk. They could bond over shared family traits, like a love for swampy homes or a penchant for unexpected adventures. It could be a heartwarming story of family connection across generations, showing that even though times and appearances change, some things, like family bonds, remain constant. How does that sound.Part 2 of the shrek Bible as Written By Sir Eddie
The accention
A fine wonderful and enfactuating light pierced though the clouds and sky and down came from the great tacobell on the sky came down shrek. He sat on a great cloud; adorned in a great silk and angel made cloak. All stared at his glory. His figure was surrounded by a radiance he was like the sun all revolved around this moment. The angles followed. They were great celestial being clad in amour and swords but today they lay in modest and with instruments they played a inimagineable song that engrossed all listeners into a trance. Following next was Sir Eddie Murphy now raised from the dead with Pus and the original man Butter Pants. They wore astral clothes as they walked down to earth by seemingly walking on the air. Soon the four Shrek, Pus, Eddie and Butter Pants were on the ground and stood at a market stall. Shrek stood on a box and began to project his voice. "From now untill I die in this mortal form I am all God and all man. I will now see the true life of my most beloved your eyes". All stood in disbelief for thier saviour had come and with that speach shrek became far less intimating his astral light faded. However he still sat in his green ogre form. Shrek ascended down to the UK to begin but shrek new he must go on a voyage across the lands to spread the word of his arrival but he had to get ready. In the oncoming days shrek conversed with the people of the town and finding lay of the land. He mapped out hid journey and the stops he would have to make for food, water or rest and how he play to make it in the elements. However one day he was invited to talk with head of the village. "Shrek" he said in a light tone "it has come to my attention that you plan on leaving the town soon" "Yes that is correct my son" said shrek "There is something that I want you to have" said the head. "A shortsword, it was forged many years ago b- "My son my voyage is of peace and love for one another not a conquest it will not be needed in any extreme case but thank you my lord however I am greatful for your offer". Days more passed when shrek set out quickly and quietly under the setting sun so not to be seen and made a great fuss however he left a note in the home he was staying in giving them the information they needed but by then he would be far gone.
The journey to Beeston
Shrek walked happily and care free for some time untill he came to the beginning of a forest. The trees were tall and imposing and it was as if the branches were pointing at him to leave like a warning. At this time the sun was beginning to set and the night was dark. Going around would surely add time to his journey and eat into his food and water supply and so would waiting outside for daytime. Shrek had thought about this before setting out about a week prior and had deicided to enter the forest however now as it towerd over him he felt true fear. Shrek thought for a while as the sun fully set and the moon took its place and finally stepped his foot into the forest. As he walked foreboding stalked him and shrek could get no peace; he would look around for danger but the darkness And the fog clouded his vision. He could bearly see the hands infront of him. But after some miles his body caved and he set camp for the night. His legs ached and his body shaked the warmth of his sleeping bag couldn't satisfy the sharp coolness he felt. Shrek fell asleep that night cold and wet wishing he was home but he knew he needed to do this for humanity. Fragments of light broke though the shaded trees although the forest was cold as most light couldn't get though. The fog was still about him but was lessened from the night before. The air was sharp and shreks fear palpable. He still felt if the tree or something else that lurked in the shadows was watching him and judging his and getting ready to make thier move. As sheek got further into the forest the path became unclear and the sound of crows circling him above the clouds louder. Shrek sense of direction was now lost as they day began to come to a close. He walked around aimlessly fearful of what was lurking. One night after a full day of walking tring to find his way out he heard something. A noise, it was like a man's footstep yet quieter and seemingly shorter. Shrek came out of his sleeping bag and looked around "my child I mean no danger to you or this forest come out I wish to speak with you" shrek said with a quaking voice. The forest lay silent. Shrek looked around again when a quick pounce came from a bush and from it was a small brown haired creature wearing old fashion clothes. He lunged at shrek and held a knife to his neck he laughed spratically. "I have found you" he whispered into shreks ear. Shrek pushed him aside and shouted "why my son must you try to pain me" "I'll make your bones into bread, I'll spead your eyes over toast, I'll make your skin into clothes. You will be the crown of my collection" he shouted laughing still uncontrollablely. "My son you must stop for this will not get you anywhere" shrek said clearly scared. "Why did you wait so long to kill me" "I like to see my victims scream, beg me for mercy promising anything to me just to see one more day" he said. "Now time for my murder wig and out from his pocket he produced a large spiked red wig before he once again lunged at shrek and this time he managed to slice his hand. Shrek screamed in pain as the sharp agony pulsed though his body. But then from his bag shrek pulled out a guitar and threw it rumplestiltskin followed it and seemingly disappeared. Finally shrek got some much needed rest although the thought of been murdered in his sleep stressed him alot. For the next couple of days in the forest shrek walked with little fear although as he got closer to his destination the land grew weirder. The trees grouped closer together and the land uneven shrek missed donkey and pus and he thought of them lots. However, the days now were getting lighter as he was almost out of the forest and into the untamed land of Beeston. That morning after waking up and after his food was becoming scarce shrek exited the forest. The land of Beeston had many abandoned buildings like jungles, road men selling drugs and stabbing people but among the chaos lay an oasis. Kyle Upton and Harry Uptons House. It sat as if a castle the only protection for shrek.
As soon as shrek stepped over the border of Beeston he was met by a road man "Yo whats your name man" said the road man "Shr-" shrek began to say "Yo man shut the fuck up nobody asked bro" the road man interrupted "you fucked me up man. I can't think get out my head man get out my head" the road man ran away holding his head screaming get out my head man. Shrek carried on his journey to the oasis for some time untill the day turned to night so shrek rested in a pub. He walked in and the stench of a sweaty 40yr gaza with a Leeds United shirt on hit him and from the cracks of his armpit and his ass cheeks float green lines of stink who sat drinking a beer. There was also a group of people sat at the far side of the bar playing a gambling game. However, among the various other people one stood out to him although he wasn't quite sure why. The man sat alone not talking away from everyone else. He sat with a tin of beans that he was slowly eating. Shrek thought he could see the man staring at him as if examining him. However, shrek could not get a good idea of the man's face as he wore a hat and he mostly had his head down eating his beans. For a while shrek forgot his worrys in the bar talking with locals sharing story's. He found out the little monster he saw in the forest had been troubling the town for a while and that they hoped that he was now gone for good. But after many hours of conversation shrek decided to get a room and set off in the morning. Shrek awoke with a blur but as his eyes adjusted to his surroundings he above him a dark shadow yet it had a form like a man. The shadow drew its sword before shrek could react and it stabbed him in the heart before shrek awoke in a cold sweat. It was a dream. He sat up in his bed as his eyes adjusted to the darkness but after one or two minutes shrek felt as if a dark figure passed the window of the room. Shreks room was at the top part of the bar it was not a terrible room small but cosy. He looked around desperately and quickly looking for an answer when another shadow passed the window this time shrek got a better look at it. It was large and dark it wore a tattered cloak and had a sword sheaved under it. The same one from the dream. An then suddenly a loud knock came from the door. Shrek cowered in his bed frozen when the door swung open and in came the a man. The man shut the door and blocked it he was panting as if he was running or if he was in grave danger. Now shrek could get a better idea of who the man was he now realised that it was the man from before who was watching him carefully. "What do you want from me shrek cried "I'm here to help you shrek word of your journey has spead and many people are not welcoming of you". "I'm not quite sure who those shadows are but I know they want you dead and they will stop at nothing untill thier task is complete". "What are we to do" said shrek now sat on his bed on high alert. "We must go to Kyle and Harry they may know more on these creatures of the night and in their home we are safe" Whispered the man when another knock came to the door before the started to barge the door. "Come, the door is not verry strong and my defence won't last long" the man opened the window and threw a rope down tieing one end to the bed. They both climbed down the rope and then onto the man's horse. "Thank you" said shrek pausing to say his name "my name is Joe Webster" pleasure to serve you shrek. As they began to ride to the house of Kyle and Harry from the distance they could see the shadows watching them though the window of thier room.
Part 3 as Written By key whiteness of shrek decent to Earth
The expansion of the shrek religion As Written by kristianus kokaes
As the shrek religion began in the UK it quickly spread to Beeston and Bramley though the use of devout peasants moving looking for better paying jobs after the black death (1348-50). However in the 1500s came the discovery of the new world and with that opened new trade routes wear people often spread their faith to Shrek. This act spread the religion to Spain. Many years after this once the shrek religion had been woven within the culture of Spain and most of the country belived in him and built monuments in his name. Some would set out on pilgrimages from Spain to Saudi Arabia spreading thier religion further. However one country failed to see shrek as thier god. Australia. For shrek is just and omnibevelence he came to peace with this fact untill they got his Wendy's order wrong.

Here is my contribution to the feedback line-up.
**In-game VOIP*\* VOIP is permanently ON when activated in options (but also when is it not). We need it to be a push to talk bind (that we have to hold).
**AIMING bind has to be held*\* We need this as a toggle bind.
**SPRINT bind has to be held*\* We need this as a toggle bind.
**WALK bind has to be held*\* We need this as a toggle bind.
**LEAN bind has to be held*\* We need this as a toggle bind.
**Same binds for different actions*\* Example that doesn't work: R (pressed) for reload and R (double press) for weapon inspection. We need to be able to use same binds for differents actions.
**Total weight: overweight*\* When we are too much loaded, it shows a weight of 54/54, even when we are over 54kg. Is it possible to display the exact weight so that we know how much kg we need to shed?
**While searching for server*\* When searching for server, we can't do anything. Even leaving the queue line and cencel the search. We need non-squad leader to be able to quit/cancel their own queue. But also it would be nice to be able to go into options while waiting.
**Map markers*\* We need map markers to be visible for all squad members. Idea: maybe we could have one color for each member of squad. Or same color as right now but with A, B, C and D marker for Alpha, Bravo, Charlie, Delta members.
**Helicopter LZ markers*\* We need LZ map markers to be visible for all squad members.
**Helicopters sound: the SOLUTION!*\* We all know that helicopters' sound is way too loud. It is realistic but in order to make this more realistic and to solve what which detracts from the gaming experience, I think I have the solution: In-game audio headsets (Razor and Gssh for now (but maybe Peltor Comtac IV, V, VI, Sordin, etc.? ;-) ) have in real life an option to cut down loud sounds. Solution would be: make headsets audio amplification ON/OFF (with a right click for example).
**Headsets addition*\* We only have Razor and Gssh for now. Could you add:

• 3M Peltor's ComTac (XPI, III, IV, V, VI, VII, VIII,)
• MSA Sordin
• Ops-Core AMP
• Invisio X5 (in-ear)

**Helmets flair: covers*\* Could you add covers for helmets? MultiCam, MC Arid, MC Black, MC Tropical but also Ranger Green, Coyote Tan and some other camo?
**Helmets flair: headsets fixings*\* Could you add fixations for helmets? Ex1: Ops-Core mount rail kit for AMP headset Ex2: 3M Peltor mount rail kit for ComTac headsets
**Helmets flair: gas masks*\* Could you add gas masks for helmets? Ex1: Ops-Core SOTR Ex2: AVON C50
**SPLINTS application*\* When we use a splint, it is always applied to the right arm while the injury can be on the left arm or one of the legs. We need it to be applied on the correct injured body part.
**BANDAGE application*\* When we use a bandage, it is always applied to the left arm while the injury can be on the right arm, chest, head or one of the legs. We need it to be applied on the correct injured body part.
**Weapon switch animation*\* When we switch between weapons, grenades and knife, former in hand just disapear... We need the main weapon to be laying somewhere on the side of the character. Example: https://i.imgur.com/gvS0Pgw.jpeg
**Handgun in holster*\* Handgun in holster is always the same and stays in the holster whenever we have it in hands. We need this to be dynamic and realist:

• Put the exact gun with its own setup in the holster.
• When I have my handgun in hands, make the holster empty.

**Day and Night*\* We need day and night cycles in the game. Allowing us to play with NVJs. P L E A S E 🙏🏻
**NVGs (no thermal)*\* We asked for day and night but even if we don't have it, we might use NVGs in the darkest environments (ex: bunkers). Therefore, we would need some NVGs. Examples: Monoculars (PVS14), Binos (BNVD21, DTNVG, DTNVS...), Quad (GPNVG). And maybe some device for weapon mounting (AN/PVS-30, CNVD-LR).
**Weapon accessories modding: Lasers*\* We need lasers and lamps to be added to the weapon (handguns and rifles) modding. Lasers examples: Steiner (DBAL-A2, DBAL-PL, OTAL-C, MAWL...), Zenitco (PERST3, PERST4...), Holosun (LE221, LE321...).
**Weapon accessories modding: Flashlights*\* We need lasers and lamps to be added to the weapon (handguns and rifles) modding. Flashlights examples: Surefire (Scout, X300, XC2-B, ), Inforce (WML-X, APL...), Streamlight (TLR series), Zenitco (Klesch series).
**Weapon accessories modding: Optics & Mounts*\* We need more optics to be added to the weapon (handguns and rifles) modding.

• Optics examples: Lead&Steel Pandora PB-3, Lead&Steel Promethean LP-1, Holosun AEMS, Holosun HM3XT magnifier, Aimpoint ACRO P2, Eotech G33 Magnifier,
• Mount examples: Unity FAST, Unity Fast FTG, GBRS Hydra mount I'm not going further with switches, offset mounts... coz it's a game, not a weapon modding simulator :-)

**Weapon addition: SMGs*\* We need some SMGs in the game. Examples: MP5, MP5SD, MP7, MP9, ARP9, Kriss Vector, CZ Scorpion, P90, UMP...
**Weapon addition: LMGs*\* We need some LMGs in the game. Examples: M249, RPK, Type96, MK46,
**Weapon addition: More ARs*\* We need more rifles in the game. Examples: G36, SCARs, M14, KAR98, Tavor, Sig555, HK416 and maybe some PDW or SBR.
**Weapon addition: More snipers*\* We need more sniper rifles (bolt action and DMR) in the game. Examples: M14 DMR, M14 EBR kit, M117, M24, SR-25, SVD, M40, M200, AW .308, HK417, etc.
**Weapon addition: More handguns*\* We need more handguns in the game. Examples: FNX 45, more Glocks, P320, M9, Desert Eagle, Colt 45...
**Weapon addition: Mines*\* We need more mines in the game. Examples: Claymore, PMN-2, Laser mines.
**Weapon addition: knives*\* We need more knives in the game. Examples: daggers, karanbits, bushcraft, folding, switchblade.
**Weapon flair: Paints*\* We need some weapon paints in-game. Examples: Cerakote, Coyote Tan, MC, Ranger Green, other camos, etc.
**Faction and/or Squad armbands*\* We could use some faction armbands (right arm for example, with a soft color). We could also use some squad armbands (perfect world would let us customize our own armband, like with clan appartenance <3 ) IDEA: This could also be no armbands but chemlights in different colors.
**Clan appartenance*\* That could be cool having a clans system. Features examples:

• Join clan members if there is enough space on server.
• Clan name displayed with player (not in name but when looted)
• Automatic clan armband display (see armband topic)

**Handgun holsters*\* We need more paints for the holster. Examples: Coyote Tan, Ranger Green, Black, other camos, etc.
**Apparel & Gear addition*\* We're almost all the same.

• Hats: beanies
• PC: Ferro Concepts FCPC V5, Agilite K19,
• Gloves: MOG Target, MOG Shelter,
• PC: Ferro Concepts FCPC V5, Agilite K19, IDEA: maybe with PC back panels (would replace backpacks slot).

**Stash containers*\* Like in every game, we need some storage crates/containers. Examples: for ammunition, care items, weaponry (racks?)... In different sizes (different prices, if sold by merchants).
Thank you for your work and the great game you're providing 💪🏻🙏🏻

In Shin Megami Tensei 4, you play as Flynn, a young Medieval peasant in the Eastern Kingdom of Mikado who, following receiving the worst haircut known to man, experienced total ego death and can no longer express his feelings except through horrifically smirking and no longer possesses the capacity for opinions more complex than:

• Peace and coexistence and sucking God off.
  
• Freedom and egoism and sucking Lucifer off.
  
• Centrism if instead of arguing the merits of both sides, you just stabbed them with a knife and went home.
  

After waking up one fine morning to a strange man telling him to create a world where Persona 5 lasts forever contrasted by another man telling him to burn Atlas headquarters down for not creating Devil Survivor 3, Flynn goes with his friend Issachar to buy gauntlets to bludgeon each other to death with because they're SMT protagonists and killing their friends is what they do best.
Alas! Issachar realises he's not wholly into the "KILL ALL YOUR FRIENDS" thing, and goes home, leaving Flynn behind with Afro Johnathan, Man-tit Walter, Weeb Isabeau and Elvis Navarre. Left with no other choice, Flynn is forced to work with these weirdos to pay off the loan he took to buy these gauntlets. And so, the gang heads to join the public military.

Naraku - where Hopes and Dreams (and People) Die

Mikado is a highly advanced kingdom which has existed for millenia. Hence its military training is just as developed.
It consists of taking the new cadets.
And throwing them into hell.
...
Lacking any sort of training, Flynn understandably gets bludgeoned, impaled, incinerated, frozen, electrocuted, vapourised, smited, cursed and ultimately killed by the demons.
Fortunately, due to a management error in the afterlife, Flynn pays off ugly Satoru Gojo and comes back to life, only to be killed again and put into a second debt as he endlessly goes between life and death till he finally accomplishes the mission of begging demons to help him till they join him out of sheer pity.
Equipped now with several demons, having finished his task, Flynn returns to the surface and is immediately sent back down to kill more because Mikado's ultimate aim is presumably to create Doomslayer.
So now would be a good time to explain two more things:
-Flynn has a robot waifu in his gauntlet who is actually his Stand. Whenever he screams 「BURROUGHS」 time stops and he can save and quit, fuse demons or do other things.
-Flynn is schizophrenic and sometimes when he levels a demon up too much, he begins hallucinating their voices to the point he actualises a part of them into himself and becomes capable of performing their skills. This is called Demon Whisper.
Back to Naraku, Flynn grinds for several days till he clears Naraku's first floors and enters deep into the area wherein he gets beaten to death by strange people working under higher orders.
Flynn luckily pays off Satoru Gojo yet again and just comes back to life to beat them up, wherein he finds out that they were hired to kill them by Navarre, who's developed a grudge against the peasants after being unable to live up to his noble family's legacy due to not being racist enough.
Flynn arrests Navarre and sends him back to the surface where Navarre later dies because he saw a girl naked bathing and gets an erection so *massive*** his brain runs out of blood causing him to fall unconscious and drown in the water [This is the canon explanation for why he died in SMT 4 Apocalypse, by the way.]
Mildly upset by that, Flynn goes on a murder trip through Naraku till he gets called back by his seniors to investigate the mysterious demon appearances in the kingdom.
So Flynn and gang go and find out that people are transforming into demons... because they read books. And discovering how utterly awful the modern YA genre is, they transform into demons because they can't stand to be part of the same race that created these works. Presumably.
Flynn ventures deeper into the forest only to find his old friend, Issachar. Issachar finds a phone and accesses it.
...It's open to OkBuddyPersona.
Issachar is instantly overcome by such vitriol, such complete utter *disgust***, that he transforms into a demon of his own, and begs Flynn to kill him.
Doing that, Flynn is very upset, and finds out that this was all caused because a Black Samurai distributed these items. In fury, he, Walter and Johnathan and Isabeau (who's just mad because the Black Samurai spoiled her manga's ending) delve into Naraku reaching the bottom, wherein he, alongside Johnathan, Walter and Isabeau, discover the exit to Naraku.
...Guarded by the Minotaur [who has the coolest design known to man or God].
The Minotaur is an ancient being, incredibly powerful, having contracted with the old King Aquila himself to guard Mikado from whatever threats lie beyond the dome.
However, Flynn and the gang have grown to equal strength through their many trials and tribulations! Accompanied by incomprehensibly powerful demons, Flynn puts up an excellent fight, carving through the Minotaur!
The fight is won! The Minotaur frozen! The path is clear-
Walter then commits suicide by Minotaur taking all his teammates with him in a smirking Labrys Strike.
...
Again and again, unendingly, Flynn fights. Each and every time, right at the end, Walter commits team suicide. Finally, Flynn says screw this and with his stand 「Burroughs」resets reality till Walter gets replaced by Johnathan and Flynn can finally f***ing win.
Flynn brushes aside tears of joy from his smirking face and the gang (with Walter tied and bound) enter deeper, thinking things will get easier. And things do get better! Deep, deep, beyond Naraku, in metallic lands unexplored, the gang discovers an ancient relic of incomprehensible power.

A Gun.

...
He is then immediately one-two shot to death by Medusa who he didn't expect because people only talk about Minotaur for being hellish, not about the half-naked snake lady with a statue fetish with a gun and lightning powers who comes in literal minutes later to kick your teeth in.
...
But with another hour of grinding and more keeping Walter tied down, the gang exhaustedly beat her, exiting Naraku to find themselves in a tower and to witness a sight that shocks them to their core.
Mikado isn't it's own kingdom.
It's built on top of another land.
A land more technologically advanced.
A land more ancient.
A land with greater evils.

Tokyo.

The goddess of Tokyo is dead, killed by her own people.
It's up to Flynn to choose how to save her.
To Resurrect the Dead Goddess.
To-

Shin Megami Tensei

Roll the credits!

In Flynn Megami Tensei 4, you play as Shin, a young Medieval peasant in the Eastern Kingdom of Mikado who, following receiving the worst haircut known to man, experienced total ego death and can no longer express his feelings except through horrifically smirking and no longer possesses the capacity for opinions more complex than:

• Peace and coexistence and sucking God off.
  
• Freedom and egoism and sucking Satan off.
  
• Centrism if instead of arguing the merits of both sides, you just stabbed them with a knife and went home.
  

After waking up one fine morning to a strange man telling him to create a world where Persona 5 lasts forever contrasted by another man telling him to burn Atlas headquarters down for not creating Devil Survivor 3, Shin- I mean, Flynn goes with his friend Isacchar to buy gauntlets to bludgeon each other to death with because they're SMT protagonists and killing their friends is what they do best.
Alas! Isacchar realises he's not wholly into the "KILL ALL YOUR FRIENDS" thing, and goes home, leaving Flynn behind with Afro Johnathan, Man-tit Walter, Weeb Isabeau and Elvis Navarre. Left with no other choice, Flynn is forced to work with these weirdos to pay off the loan he took to buy these gauntlets. And so, the gang heads join the public military.

Naraku - where Hopes and Dreams (and People) Die

Mikado is a highly advanced kingdom which has existed for millenia. Hence its military training is just as developed.
It consists of taking the new cadets.
And throwing them into hell.
...
Lacking any sort of training, Flynn understandably gets bludgeoned, impaled, incinerated, frozen, electrocuted, vapourised, smited, cursed and ultimately killed by the demons.
Fortunately, due to a management error in the afterlife, Flynn pays off ugly Satoru Gojo and comes back to life, only to be killed again and put into a second debt as he endlessly goes between life and death till he finally accomplishes the mission of begging demons to help him till they finally join him out of sheer pity.
Equipped now with several demons, having finished his task, Flynn returns to the surface and is immediately sent back down to kill more because Mikado's ultimate aim is presumably to create Doomslayer.
So now would be a good time to explain two more things:
-Flynn has a robot waifu in his gauntlet who is actually his Stand. Whenever he screams 「BURROUGHS」 time stops and he can save and quit, fuse demons or do other things.
-Flynn is schizophrenic and sometimes when he levels a demon up too much, he begins hallucinating their voices to the point he actualises a part of them into himself and becomes capable of performing their skills. This is called Demon Whisper.
Back to Naraku, Flynn grinds for several days till he clears Naraku's first floors and enters deep into the area wherein he gets beaten to death by strange people working under higher orders.
Flynn luckily pays off Satoru Gojo yet again and just comes back to life to beat them up, wherein he finds out that they were hired to kill them by Navarre, who's developed a grudge against the peasants after being unable to live up to his noble family's legacy due to not being racist enough.
Flynn arrests Navarre and sends him back to the surface where Navarre later dies because he saw a girl naked bathing and gets an erection so *massive*** his brain runs out of blood causing him to fall unconscious and drown in the water [This is the canon explanation for why he died in SMT 4 Apocalypse, by the way.]
Mildly upset by that, Flynn goes on a murder trip through Naraku till he gets called back by his seniors to investigate the mysterious demon appearances in the kingdom.
So Flynn and gang go and find out that people are transforming into demons... because they read books. And discovering how utterly awful the modern YA genre is, they transform into demons because they can't stand to be part of the same race that created these works. Presumably.
Flynn ventures deeper into the forest only to find his old friend, Isacchar. Isacchar finds a phone and accesses it.
...It's open to OkBuddyPersona.
Isacchar is instantly overcome by such vitriol, such complete utter *disgust***, that he transforms into a demon of his own, and begs Flynn to kill him.
Doing that, Flynn is very upset, and finds out that this was all caused because a Black Samurai distributed these items. In fury, he, Walter and Johnathan and Isabeau who's just mad because the Black Samurai spoiled her manga's ending, delve into Naraku reaching the bottom wherein he, alongside Johnathan, Walter and Isabeau, discover an ancient relic of incomprehensible power.

A Gun.

...
The gang goes even deeper to find the exit to Naraku and finally locates it. Guarded by the Minotaur [who has the coolest design known to man or God].
The Minotaur is an ancient being, incredibly powerful, having contracted with the old King Aquila himself to guard Mikado from whatever threats lie beyond the dome.
However, Flynn and the gang have grown to equal strength through their many trials and tribulations! Accompanied by incomprehensibly powerful demons, Flynn puts up an excellent fight, carving through the Minotaur!
The fight is won! The Minotaur frozen! The path is clear-
Walter then commits suicide by Minotaur taking all his teammates with him in a smirking Labrys Strike.
...
Again and again, unendingly, Flynn fights. Each and every time, right at the end, Walter commits team suicide. Finally, Flynn says screw this and with his stand 「Burroughs」resets reality till Walter gets replaced by Johnathan and Flynn can finally f***ing win.
Flynn brushes aside tears of joy from his smirking face and the gang (with Walter tied and bound) enter deeper, thinking things will get easier.
He is then one-two gunned to death by Medusa who he didn't expect because people only talk about Minotaur for being hellish, not about the half-naked snake lady with a statue fetish with a gun and lightning powers who comes in literal minutes later to kick your teeth in.
...
With another hour of grinding and more keeping Walter tied down, the gang exhaustedly beat her, exiting Naraku to find themselves in a tower and to witness a sight that shocks them to their core.
Mikado isn't it's own kingdom.
It's built on top of another land.
A land more technologically advanced.
A land more ancient.
A land with greater evils.

Tokyo.

The goddess of Tokyo is dead, killed by her own people.
It's up to Flynn to choose how to save her.
To Resurrect the Dead Goddess.
To-

Shin Megami Tensei

Roll the credits!

Howdy swappers, I have way too much stuff and it’s gotta go. I’ll prolly be looking again later but that’s neither here nor there. Normal rules shipping to US residents only please. YOLO takes it. Please be of age and legally able to own whatever you call, not responsible for you “actin a foo”. Any questions just ask. Tried to put each knife’s sheath “if applicable” to the right of knife. If packing is pictured with knife you will receive it, if not, it is lost in the universe. If my prices are out of line, chat and let me know or make me an offer. Will be shipped tomorrow morning or Tuesday morning at latest. Thanks. Enjoy the selection.
PP F&F All prices are OBRO. Not really looking for trades… maybe a cruwear pm2? Or… idk just let me know what you got!
TIMESTAMP: https://imgur.com/a/AZG8IyP
**SOLD****DPX HEST 2 NIALOX Believe I’m 2nd owner, it’s been used by previous owner, there are some scratches here and there and whoever sharpened it, sharpened it unevenly. Nothing that can’t be taken care of I believe. Comes with kydex and original cordura sheath as well $75
https://imgur.com/a/SPfCQnr
**SOLD****BRK BUSHCRAFT SCOUT MAGNACUT & BPS BUSHCRAFTER BUNDLE Received this bundle off the swap so unsure of owners. The BRK has stains of each side of the blade. Magnacut for BRK and 1066 for BPS. BPS looks amazing with no flaws that I can see. $125 https://imgur.com/a/ZYDTP4y
**SOLD*BENCHMADE BASS PRO GRIPTILLIAN D2 I’m the original owner. Bought about 2 or so months ago and used it once to cut a couple plastic baggies then put back in box. Lost the Benchmade soft baggie but have box and papers. $85 https://imgur.com/a/Uvvemfs
**SOLD*ESEE XANCUDO S35VN I’m the original owner, ran down to GPKnives and bought it a few years ago, I’ve used it to cut some paper and exactly 3 limes, in good shape maybe could use a cleaning. Sheath is missing 1 screw, I’m sure ESEE would send one but never asked. $70 https://imgur.com/a/lWUSPto
**SOLD*BRK MINI GUNNY MAGNACUT Received off swap, unsure of how many owners. No cut or carry from me and believe not from previous owner as well, looks amazing, just not going to see use from me. Comes with factory packaging and lanyard $200 https://imgur.com/a/mNS6rnd
*SOLD**HOGUE DEKA 20CV Received from swap, no cut from me, carried a couple times. Edge looks good! Looks like maybe some wear possibly on each side from handling around bar lock. $85 https://imgur.com/a/woeXyRb
*SOLD*CASE PURPLE BARNBOARD COPPERLOCK Received from swap, in amazing condition, pictures don’t do this justice, when the sun hits these bolsters and scales your transformed into a world of beauty, craftsmanship, and sharp sharp steel. No, but it is nice! $50 https://imgur.com/a/OLZoaz9
CHEAPO BUNDLE received from swap… not much to say, couple older knives and no name multi tools FREE to whoever purchases a knife. I will pack it in one random buyers order as I’m shipping! Pretty cool for someone to open unexpectedly.
Thanks for looking and most importantly.. HAVE FUN.

I have a Benchmade, bushcrafter full size, and wanted to know if it is a good EDC knife. A bit big for edc, but didn’t know if it’s good for like cutting plastics, cardboard, rubber, etc. what do yall think?