be me; ex LizarDM
be also me; Adonis Valintellis (Tiefling Paladin), Thalia Milakos (Human Ranger) and Zaahir Kehmet (Earth Genasi Wizard)
the soldier stifled a yawn as he patrolled the sandy beaches of Kalikos
clouds hid the island from the moon’s spectral glow, casting the land into darkness and turning the often silver seas black as coal
his shift had been a long one and just as boring as expected
where once his mind had been sharp and alert, it now lingered on thoughts of a cold drink and a warm bed
his eyes scanned the shore superficially, passing over the same stones and grassy knolls he’d seen a hundred times before
on any other night, he may have noticed the discrepancies in the shoreline
the new rock that appeared almost boat-like on second glance
but alas, his mind was a thousand miles away, and the javelin hit him without warning
the soldier collapsed to his knees, gasping for air like a fish on land
his armour had spared him from the worst of the damage, but the javelin had done its job
stunned and winded, he was rendered defenceless against the four figures that emerged from the darkness
a thought crossed his mind to sound the alarm; but his limbs refused to move and his lungs pleaded for breath
one member of the pack split from the rest. A stout dwarf with a full beard and a grim expression
they approached the helpless man, drawing a sharply curved short sword from their belt
the soldier tried to move
tried to yell
but the dwarf closed the distance between them and cut his throat, putting a violent end to his struggles
wiping the blood clean from his weapon, Oryk hauled the body behind cover before jogging to catch up with his companions
the Order of the Twins moved like shadows in the night. Their passage muffled by the spells woven about their feet
that said, their infiltration still proved easier than expected
skirting the edges of the island, the party avoided common paths and watchful eyes; slipping between gaps in the meagre defences they encountered
their route took them just below the peak of the island; where a lavish home stared out across the ocean
in the distance, tiny twinkling lights just barely outlined the Athosi mainland
the house itself was lit up like a beacon in the night, and roaming globules of fire identified the few guards on rotation. Six or seven at most
less than a third of what they had anticipated
counting their blessings, the small band of adventurers navigated the narrow pathways around the house and approached the island’s southern side, where a lonely dirt road wound its way towards a grove of trees
they moved swiftly and silently through the long grass that grew on either side, but they needn’t have bothered
the road was unguarded, and the entrance to the grove lay bare
“this is too easy,” Cyrene whispered; fidgeting nervously with an iron band around her wrist. “Where are the rest of the guards?”
she, like the rest of her companions, had a dishevelled look to her appearance
a thinness to her features that implied more than a couple missed meals
Oryk shot her a stern look, and the half orc immediately shut her mouth
turning his gaze to the two half elves to his rear, he was answered with obedient silence
Maia had always been thin, but now she was practically gaunt
her eyes carried a weight, and an ugly scar split her lip on the left side
Iris, her sister, had once identified herself with long curly hair
now, it was cut short, and crudely so. As if done with an altogether uncaring hand
both twins wore the same iron band as Cyrene around their left wrist
a thin piece of metal that coiled around their limb like a snake
with a commanding wave of his hand, Oryk led the party through the grove’s northern entrance and into the trees beyond
moving like ghosts between the thin trunks and shallow underbrush, the group made good progress before they heard the sudden snap of a twig in the darkness
Oryk raised a fist and the advance came to an abrupt stop, scanning their surroundings with tense expressions
a series of soft whispers drifted between the trees, accompanied by the rustling of leaves and groaning of branches
the dwarven fighter drew his sica and his companions complied, unsheathing their weapons in response
they began to spot lithe, feminine figures peering out at them from behind the trees. Staring at the strangers with bright, emerald eyes
the women had skin like mottled bark, and hair that plumed about them like foliage
“dryads,” Cyrene declared, lowering her rhomphaia with the faintest hint of relief
Iris and Maia exchanged a look before lowering their own weapons, albeit keeping them close at hand
Oryk, however, raised his short sword threateningly, and pointed it at the nearest nature spirit
“get back in your trees and stay there. Interfere, and we will not hesitate to kill you”
the dryad in question retreated, but the others stood their ground as a frantic whispering filled the trees around them
something dangerous glimmered in Oryk’s eyes, and his fingers tightened around the hilt of his sica
“NOW!” he suddenly bellowed, his voice deep and commanding
the drayds scattered into the trees, leaving a myriad of foul curses and even fouler odours in their wake
Oryk gave a satisfied grunt and turned to leave, only to nearly walk into the dryad that now stood in his way
a spirit with speckled, ashy skin and a stern, stubborn expression
Oryk approached them with his weapon raised
“get out of my way,” he growled. “I won’t ask a third time”
the dryad stared down at him like a disapproving adult would a petulant child, and when it spoke, it did so with a voice like wind through a canopy
“if you were wise, you would return to your masters. You will not find what you seek here”
its eyes lifted to the party, as if directing its words to them
with a snarl, Oryk swiped at the dryad, only to be met by a cloud of pollen and stinging nettles
cursing aloud between bouts of frantic coughing, the dwarf fled the swarm and started rubbing his eyes, which had already begun streaming with tears
muttering under her breath, Cyrene approached his side and laid a hand on his shoulder
“come now, let me see”
lowering his hands to his side, Oryk turned to face her with a grimace, his eyes puffy and red
“Archons above, Oryk,” Cyrene cursed. “You should know better than to taunt a dryad”
as the words left her mouth, the band on her wrist suddenly tightened and the half orc gave a small yelp of pain
glaring at her through bloodshot eyes, Oryk gave the cleric a venomous look
“and you should know better than to speak out of line”
Cyrene’s hands fumbled at the metal around her wrist, refusing to meet the dwarf’s cruel gaze
the cuff continued to coil and squeeze; writhing like a living being as Cyrene frantically whispered a foreign chant beneath her breath
the words seemed to appease the magic item, and it loosened its grip in response
witnessing this cruel display of discipline, the twins began unconsciously massaging the band around their own wrists; as if reminiscing on a similar experience
shaking the pain from her arm, Cyrene set to work curing Oryk’s ailment, uttering a slew of healing spells
with his eyesight restored, Oryk sheathed his weapon and pushed past Cyrene, wandering into the trees
with little other choice other than to follow, the group set off after him
the party walked for some time before a sound other than buzzing insects and murmured curses reached their ears
a low, rumbling that echoed through the trees. Like a dull droning that came in ebbs and flows
once more the group came to a stop, and before Oryk could even turn to look towards the twins, they had already begun to move
creeping forward with the lightest of footsteps, Maia and Iris stealthily approached the sound, deftly avoiding any stray branches or betraying stones
the droning grew louder and louder, until the pair had stopped just shy of its source
peering around a trunk with sharp blue eyes, Maia scanned what lay ahead
the trees parted around an ancient oak, its roots deep and its branches tall
a hollow sat about half way up the trunk. A small opening just wide enough to put a hand or two inside
but the tree was not so interesting as what lay beneath
coiled around the trunk was a creature with a long, serpentine body
its scales, green and flecked with brown, were hard and interlocked like shields in a phalanx
its head, immense and filled with razor sharp teeth, lay curled just below the hollow of the tree
the low rumbling emanated from the monster’s chest, as it uttered a long, prolonged snore
Maia’s jaw tightened and her eyes flitted over to her sister
Iris’ face had gone pale, and her hand had instinctively dropped to grab at the empty sheath on her belt
a prize taken by their employer
the twins locked eyes, and shared a moment of profound fear
wetting her suddenly very dry lips, Maia gestured back towards the trees and Iris nodded in silent agreement
the two stealthily retreated, keeping their footsteps light all the way back to their comrades
Oryk almost jumped when the twins materialised beside him, emerging from the darkness without warning
“well?” he hissed, his voice rising above the droning snores. “What did you find?”
Iris frantically gestured for the dwarf to quiet down, as Maia shot a terrified glance back in the direction of the oak tree
only when they heard the low droning of the monster’s snores did the pair relax enough to answer
“dragon”
the word held in the air like a curse
Cyrene’s eyes widened, and had it not been for the band on her wrist, she most certainly would have uttered a prayer
even Oryk’s permanently affixed scowl faded as the blood drained from his face
when he finally spoke, he did so with no semblance of his usual condescension
“...how big?”
“8 meters,” Iris answered. “No more than 12”
Oryk nodded, his brow knitting together as he dropped into a crouch
“a juvenile,” he thought aloud. “Hasn’t reached full adulthood. Scorch marks?”
“none that we could see”
“good. Then either it’s too young to breathe fire, or it spits poison”
his eyes narrowed to points as he mulled things over in his head
the group kept quiet, forced to listen to the distant, droning snores as their leader considered their options
after a long stretch of time, Oryk took a sharp inhale and straightened his posture
“it’s asleep?”
his eyes shifted to Maia, and the half elf tensed
“we think so but…”
“we don’t know for certain,” Iris quickly interrupted. “We’ve never encountered a dragon before. We should call off the mission and come back more prepared”
a deadly silence fell over the group as the dwarf went still
“call off the mission?” he repeated
his voice was calm, but the words held a distinct edge to them
like the blade of a meticulously sharpened knife
“and since when did you make the calls in this party?”
Maia shot her sister a look, and Iris lowered her eyes
“never,” she answered
“that’s right. Never,” Oryk reiterated, holding the half elf in his steely gaze. “We do things my way, as we always have”
Iris’ clamped her mouth shut and the dwarvish fighter turned to look at his other companions
“unless you have all forgotten what awaits us if we fail? What will happen if we come back empty handed?”
he was met with silence and a slow shake of Cyrene’s head
“failure isn’t an option,” he continued. “If the drakon is asleep, we need to act now”
his gaze shifted to Maia
“so can you do what I need you to?”
the half elf swallowed and tried to slow her racing heartbeat
“I think so,” she meekly answered
“good. The rest of us will wait in position. We’ll flank the tree from three sides and-”
“-I’ll do it,” Iris suddenly interjected
Oryk’s teeth flashed in a grimace before he turned to face her
“I’ll retrieve the objective,” Iris clarified, meeting the dwarf’s gaze
“Maia is quieter,” Oryk bluntly retorted. “She stands a better chance of getting to the tree than you do”
“but with my magic-”
“-your magic that we need for the escape,” he interrupted. “We have a plan, stick to it”
he turned back to the front and began drawing out a rough plan in the dirt with his sica
“-while Maia sneaks in, we hold here to provide support. Once we have what we came for, we leave back through the northern exit”
Iris’ eye twitched, and Maia reached out to drop a hand on her sister’s arm
“Iris-” she quietly started
but her warning went unheeded, and Iris spoke up again
“what’s the point of saving my magic if we don’t get what we came for?” she argued
Oryk spun with a stormy expression, pointing his blade to her chest
“because I said so!” he snapped. “And you will do what you’re told!”
he may have stood half a head shorter than Iris, but in that moment, Oryk felt like a giant, and in the silence of the trees, his voice sounded like a clap of thunder
Iris’ face paled and Oryk realised what he had done
instinctively, the party held their breath; anticipating a monstrous roar, or the crash of falling trees
but after a few tense seconds, all they heard was the rhythmic rumbling of distant snores
the group letting out a collective sigh of relief that cut through the tension like a knife
tension that returned the moment Oryk opened his mouth
“do you want to be sent across the Chronaean?” he hissed. “Do you want to leave your sister alone?”
Iris’ eyes shifted to Cyrene, searching for some glimmer of support
instead, the half orc looked away, leaving the half elf to face their leader alone
“of course I don’t,” Iris mumbled
“exactly,” Oryk spat. “Stay in line, do what you’re told, and keep your mouth shut”
he turned to Maia with an expression that encouraged absolute obedience
“get the objective, and get out. Nod if you understand”
Maia gave a slight jerk of her head
“good. Now get moving”
the dwarf stormed off into the trees, and Cyrene quickly shot up to follow him
Maia and Iris exchanged a look of resignation before joining their trusted comrades

Maia stood in position by the edge of the clearing, mentally projecting her path to and from the hollow
it was a simple job, really
dart across the open ground
jump up to the low branch on the left side
climb over to the main trunk
grab the objective
and do it all again
simple
if it weren’t for the dragon in the way
Maia's heart began to pound in her chest until she felt a hand fall gently across her arm
she turned, meeting Iris' concerned gaze
“you don’t have to do this,” her sister whispered; practically breathing the words into Maia’s ear
“yes I do,” Maia answered, keeping her voice just as quiet. “You heard Oryk. We can’t go back empty handed”
“f*ck Oryk,” Iris cursed. “We’re only here because of him”
in spite of herself, a grim smile lifted the corner of Maia’s lips
it was a rare thing to hear Iris curse
“we could run, you know. Make a break for the mainland”
Maia’s smile dropped in an instant
“Iris, no”
“why not?” Iris replied earnestly. “We can make it. I know we can”
“they’ll catch us. And even if they don’t, what then? We’ve got nowhere to hide. No friends to help us. We’d be on our own”
“we’ve been alone before. We survived, didn’t we?”
Iris’ words were hopeful, but they couldn’t hide the desperation beneath
when Maia didn’t seem convinced, Iris took her sister’s face into her hands
“please don’t do this. I can’t lose you”
Maia’s eyes softened, and she placed her hands atop Iris’
“that’s why I have to do this”
she took a deep breath and tried to put on a half convincing smile
“you don’t have to worry about me. I’ve got this. I promise”
Iris’ thumb traced the scar across her sister’s lip
“I’m older. It’s my job to worry about you”
a frown fell across Maia’s face
“older by 10 minutes”
“and I’ll never let you forget it”
Iris pulled her sister into a tight hug
“don’t you dare get yourself caught”
“when have I ever?”
the two reluctantly parted, and Iris held her sister at an arm’s length
“remember. Once you have it-”
“-run like the Hounds of Chaon are after me”
a smile touched Iris’ lips, and the shadows rose up to swallow her
when they parted, the monk was gone
inhaling a slow, shaky breath, Maia composed herself, and refocused on the tree
30ft to the centre
branch on the left side
over the dragon
down to the hollow
reverse and get out
she exhaled slowly, letting the shake fade from her breath
she had this
Maia broke from the tree line, moving in a swift but stealthy manner
every step carefully laid. Every movement intentional
the dragon’s snores rumbled like thunder, growing louder with each step
before she knew it, she was beneath the low branch
taking a quick stutter step to gain momentum, she threw herself upwards, catching the branch with both hands
thankfully, the branch held firm, and Maia swung her legs up and around it
shimmying along inch by inch, she drew closer to the trunk itself, inadvertently holding her breath as she passed over the sleeping body of the dragon
its breath reeked up close. Like spoiled fruit and vinegar
it took all her strength not to gag
before she knew it, she was at the trunk of the tree and at the next step of her plan
hoisting herself up to a crouched position, she flattened her body against the side of the trunk and began sliding her foot along its length
eventually, she found a suitable foothold and began clambering across to a more central position
the hollow was just beneath her now
and beneath that, the massive head of the dragon
this close, she realised just how easily such a creature could snap her up
with her small frame, she’d be gone in one or two bites
pushing such morbid thoughts out of her mind, she leaned down until her head and arm were low enough to reach inside the hollow
her lungs were beginning to burn from holding her breath for so long, but she dared not exhale
she wasn't sure how good a dragon's senses were, but she wasn't keen to find out either
reaching her arm into the hollow, her fingers touched loose leaves and knotted wood
she pushed a little deeper, searching for any sign of her prize
something cold
something metal
but instead, she felt the hard back of the hollow
frowning, she pressed again, but still felt only the rear of the hollow
had she somehow missed it?
her fingers scrambled around, but continued to feel only wood and leaves
her lungs were really burning now, and she could feel her face flushing with colour from being upside down
regardless, she removed her arm and leaned her head down further, trying to peer inside
in the black gloom of a moonless night, a human wouldn’t have been able to see a thing
but even with her enhanced elvish sight, Maia was granted only the slightest advantage
just enough to make out the shape of the interior and the contents within
dried leaves
knotted wood
a couple insect husks
and nothing else
sure she had somehow made a mistake, she looked again and again
but with each scan, the truth became undeniable
“you will not find what you seek, here”
the dryad’s words echoed in Maia’s head, and with a cold sense of dread, she realised that the spirit hadn’t been speaking rhetorically
the amulet wasn’t here
and with that realisation, Maia’s lungs could hold on no longer
her breath escaped all at once, her awkward position driving the air out in an undignified huff
she clamped a hand over her mouth, but the damage had been done
she had made a sound, however small, and already her breath was mixing with the cool air
time slowed to a crawl as the dragon’s snores came to a stop
she watched in terror as its head, mere inches below her, began to stir
its nostrils flared; drawing breath with a deep, rasping inhale, and its eyes rolled in their sockets
the dragon’s jaws cracked open, revealing a black, forked tongue and rows of fetid teeth
rancid breath assaulted Maia’s senses, making her stomach turn and her head spin
she waited for the creature to open its eyes
to see the tiny morsel dangling helplessly above it
but they never did
to her greatest relief, the dragon remained asleep and blissfully unaware of her presence
relief swiftly turned to dismay, however, as the dragon proceeded to shift; its scales rippling like water across its long, serpentine body
the tree shook violently as the monster scraped against its surface, shearing away bark and causing branches to groan and sway
wrapping her arms around whatever she could find, Maia clung desperately as the shaking threatened to throw her loose
after what felt like an eternity, the vibrations mercifully ended, and the dragon returned to its snoring
but even after the tree had long fallen still, Maia found herself unable move; as if every single muscle in her body had frozen solid
in a moment of clarity, she realised that her hand had found her dagger in the chaos, and that the weapon was now clutched in an iron grip at her side
she almost laughed at the absurdity of the situation
as if a dagger would keep her safe if the dragon had actually awoken
nonetheless, she kept it in her hand, unwilling to relinquish the one defence she had
lifting her gaze to scan the surrounding treeline, she spotted the pale faces of her companions waiting in position. Intently following her progress with their eyes
Iris looked just as high sprung as she was. All but ready to throw herself into the open in order to save her sister
Maia silently prayed that her twin could keep her composure for just a little longer
wetting her incredibly dry lips, the rogue began scaling the tree; taking care to avoid any of the small twigs and leaves that had been shaken loose by the dragon’s shifting
upon reaching her chosen branch she paused, taking a moment to slow her racing heart beat
in spite of everything telling her otherwise, she needed to calm down
stress would lead to mistakes
and mistakes would lead to her death
feeling her muscles relax ever so slightly, Maia continued, stretching her body out to reach the low branch
her feet found purchase, and the rogue began creeping along its length
a few more steps and she’d be home free
“Maia!”
a single word
muffled and distorted, and yet agonisingly loud
Maia’s eyes dropped to the bronze surface of her dagger and saw a young woman’s face staring back at her, their eyes grey and piercing
there was a flash of familiarity in the half elf’s mind, but in that moment, she could barely recall her own name
a million thoughts raced through her mind as her heart pounded like a drum in her ears
one thought, however, screamed louder than the rest
run
Maia’s feet moved before the thought had even finished forming, propelling her from the branch a split second before it detonated into an explosion of jagged splinters
she hit the ground hard, feeling something give in her shoulder
she didn’t have time to dwell on it, as an earth shattering roar tore the world asunder
her feet were under her in an instant, and she broke into a sprint, not daring to look behind her
she knew that if she turned, all she would see is a flash of green scales and a mouth full of fangs closing in to end her life
the air began to reek of rotten fruit and then a body collided with her, throwing her aside
a cloud of noxious fumes ripped through the space she had just occupied, causing grass to shrivel and trees to wither
she felt hands on her arms and shoulders, and then Iris was yelling at her, hauling her to her feet amidst pained racking coughs
they didn’t have time to stop, barrelling through the trees in a mad dash to get away
as furious roars filled the air behind them, Iris stumbled through the underbrush, her legs unsteady beneath her
Maia looped an arm under her shoulder, and now the twins were supporting each other in a tangle of limbs
minutes passed. Or maybe just seconds. And then the two broke from the tree line onto an open road
sea winds rushed up to meet them, and Iris' legs fully gave out as she began greedily sucking in gasps of fresh air
“come on!” Maia urged, trying to drag her sister to her feet
but Iris was of no use now, her eyes bulging and her face flushed with colour
something ripped its way out of the underbrush and Maia turned sharply, instinctively raising the dagger that was still clutched in a death grip
instead of the dragon she was expecting, she found Cyrene and her rhomphaia, halfway through a cut that would have cleaved her in two
recognising each other at the same time, the pair lowered their weapons and turned to the wheezing half elf at their feet
concern flashing across her face, Cyrene dropped to her knees in preparation to cast a spell
before she could begin, however, Oryk emerged from the grove, blood splattered across his hands
“we don’t have time for that. Get her up!”
he raced past them, leading the charge back towards the beach
with a grunt of exertion, Cyrene lifted Iris into her arms like a baby, shoving her rhomphaia into Maia's hands
keeping a wary eye on her sister, Maia followed the half orc as she began jogging after their leader
as they ran, Oryk settled into pace beside Maia, shooting her a questioning look between grunts of breath
“do you have it?”
the half elf's shoulders fell, and she quietly shook her head
“it wasn’t there”
Oryk’s face turned a dark shade of red, and a vein bulged in his head
“what do you mean it wasn’t there?!”
“the amulet is gone. We missed it”
a stream of vile curses flowed from Oryk’s lips, and Maia wisely chose to keep her eyes forward and mouth shut
they reached the beach in record time, and Cyrene carefully laid Iris down into their waiting boat
as Oryk and Maia began pushing the vessel into the rolling surf, the dwarf gave her a hateful glare
“hells spare you when they find out we failed”
“we...haven’t...failed...yet”
Oryk turned his ire on Iris, who lay curled across the edge of the boat trying her best to suck in what air she could
“we...know...where...its...going,” she continued between strained, wheezing breaths. “We...still...have...time...”
leaping into the boat with a splash of water, Oryk waited just long enough for his companions to get in before heaving away with the oars
“we’d better. For all our sakes”
he sliced through the water with powerful strokes, driving them into deeper and darker waters
Maia slunk down beside Iris, taking her sister’s hand into her own
Iris dropped her head onto Maia’s shoulder, and the twins watched as the shores of Kalikos drifted further and further away

First Post: https://www.reddit.com/CradledDnDStories/comments/x8zwpv/athos_1_a_new_world_of_opportunity/
Last Post: https://www.reddit.com/CradledDnDStories/comments/1b2taqi/athos_35_mirror_mirro
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Im 21F In my past relationships I’ve been cheated on twice , and one of the guys was physically abusive and also molested me and almost raped me too . It was rlly hard to finally get rid of him even after the breakup . He would stalk me and and couldn’t tell any adult because of victim blaming mentality of our society( my “friends” had also kind of blamed me for choosing toxic men) . I was 17 and he claimed to be 19 but later I found out he’s 20 , maybe he was even older idk man .
Anyways cut short to today , I’m blessed with the SWEETEST man (21M) ever like my relationship is cuter than any romance movie . Y’all can’t imagine how safe,happy and secure I am . We’ve been together for 2yrs . Prior to this relationship when I was single , I would get nightmares about the abusive ex and certain Insta reels would trigger me . But I healed myself ( I think so) and the nightmares had stopped and then I found my now bf
He didn’t do anything wrong , he’s literally the purest soul on earth but he did accidentally hit me ( it was srsly accidental, he didn’t see i was behind him and ended up accidentally hitting my face , it didn’t leave any bruise or anything ) And another time he accidentally hit me in a similar manner . We have a 1ft height diff so you can understand . And obviously he was rlly apologetic about it. And ik it’s accidental but i feel like it triggered something in me and now Im getting those nightmares again ( but with his face) and I feel like it’s making me act a little distant with him. Thankfully when i wake up from such nightmares he’s there to comfort me ( we sleep while being on phone call)
Is there anything i can do to fix this ??
Tdlr: my bf accidentally hit me and now I’m getting nightmares of him abusing me like my ex did

Hello Guys This Is Omie,I Am New Her By They Way I Am Gamer I Am Not To Active On Social media 1st But After Some Months Ago Cuz Of Work There No 2 Much Time For Gaming So I Using Insta,Fb For Killing Some Time After Work 1 of My Friend Suggest This App That's How I Bumped On This App Ohh And My English Is 2 Much Bad So Try to Don't Mind It 2 Much,This Story Is About My Best Friend, Using Some Personal Comments To Lightup Mood :P (I Know U Think I Am Mindless Note Down-Using Fake Names Expect Mine Don't Understand Why She Ask And I M Doing It (O_o)
So I Natasha (19) Living With Mom (38)House Wife Dad (40) Business Men [Her Dad Is Rich Dam] I Was My Dad Princess(Dam I Don't Understand If Girls R Daddy Princess Then What Are V Daddy Devil?), When Ever I Do Something Stupid Dad Never Yell At Me Or Absurd On The Other Hand My Mom Is Strict,Like Normal Mother If I Do Something Good She Will Be Happy If I Do Something Bad She Give Long Lecture,I Know It's Was For My Own Good 1 Day On Weekend I Was Watching Movie With Mom And Dad I Suddenly Got Call From My Friend(Sasha) She Was Crying When I Ask What happen She Ask Me Can She Stay Some Days With Us Cuz Some Family Issues So I Ask My Dad And Mom They Say Ok No Problem So I Say Yes,She Come But Still Crying Saying Again And Again How She Fkup Then After Some Time She Tell Us She Was In Relationship With Our College Bully (Steve) Some Days Ago They Make Videos Of Having Wild Time On Bed She Don't Wanna Record It But After Insist That He Just Wanna Make It For Himself To Watch So She Agreed (I Think This Girl Has 0 Iq) BUT He Upload The Videos On Some Sites Today Her Dad Got Video By Co-worker Then She Was Kicked Out (What She Is Thinking? She Think Dad Love Her More? O_o) She Call Steve But He Say It's Her Problem Not Mine N Block Her, Relatives Also Don't Wanna Help Her So She Don't Know What 2 Do That's Why She Call Her In Last(Man Atleast This Girl Has Friend For Lean On If My Parents Kick Me Out I Has No Choice But Sleep On Streets) I Was Shocked But I Try To Cool Her Down, Dad Was Silent Hole Time Then He Say-This Is What Happened When U Make Stupid Choice (I Also Agree Did She Think This Is Fairy Tail U Can Do Whatever U Want Without Thinking About Others,Let Me Tell U 1 Thing She Has A Boyfriend (Martin) Her Family Know About Him And They Has No Problem With Him Cuz He Was Good Boy, Always Joking Giving Respect,So Ya She Cheat On Him Cuz He Is To Much Gud Guy) On Other Hand My Mom Got Heat Up How Can He Say That And What's Wrong If There Was Some Videos She Deserves Forgiveness (Ok I Also Think She Deserves 1 More Chance But What's Wrong With This Lady? 'Whats Wrong If They Take Videos And Upload It's How Can Someone Say This?) Me And Dad Both Not Think 2 Much That Time Cuz There Was Bigger Problem(Which They Both Regret Later (⁠+⁠_⁠+⁠),We Don't Have Trust Issues That's Why Didn't Say Anything..
It's Omie I Will Upload New Update After Some Time/Days Cuz I Don't Has 2 Much Time In My Hands After Work That's Why I Uploading This In Parts I Know I Know U Guys Gonna Say 'I Know This Gonna Happen After This/That So Let Me Clear If U Think That Then U R 50% Wrong 50% Right :⁠-⁠P, I Know Some People Will Say There Was Lake Of Info O_o Buddy Cuz Of Time Problem/ My Laziness To Explain In Full Details ( I Think I Explain Property) I Try 2 Make It Simple In Short From My Representative (It's 2 Much Large Like Anaconda >⁠.⁠<) Bye Bye. }⁠:⁠‑⁠)

Reddit Account: u/Thenn_Applicant
Discord Tag: Garin
Name and House: Dorian Merryweather
Age: 49
Cultural Group: Reachman
Appearance: [Dorian's chestnut brown hair has been greying for quite a while, however is short beard retains more color, including a few stray red hairs peppered throughout it. While his features have softened and gained some pudge as he aged past his prime, he remains in overall good shape. This is partly due to his great love of gardening and crop cultivation, which have left his hands and nails rather rough.](Dodin-Bouffant-The-Taste-of-Things-Vest.webp (500×650) (williamjacket.com))
Trait: Numerate
Skills: Avaricious (e), Architect, Administrator, Investor
Talents: Language (High Valyrian) Cooking, Gardening
Negative Trait: N/A
Starting Title: Lord of Longtable
Starting Location: Opening Event
Biography:
It has been said; men grow tired of sleep, love, singing and dancing, sooner than war. As such, it begs the question, what does a man have left when he finally tires of war? In pursuit of an answer, of any answer, one half of Dorian Merryweather’s life was spent. He was the second son of Lord Arthor Merryweather of Longtable. Like many others born in a place of natural abundance, he longed for more, for something greater than a mere provincial estate. The tourneys of Highgarden, the hunts of Horn Hill and the books of Oldtown all called to him, and so he could never ride past his father’s mild and verdant fields fast enough. Dorian counted himself lucky not to be the heir, for that meant he could pick where his future lay, unchained from the uninspiring home of his childhood. Instead it was his older brother, Bennard, who envied his free-flying lifestyle, contriving any excuse to join him on his escapades and agurk lessons and ceremonies he ought to have attended.
Lord Arthor was fairly permissive of this deriliction of duties, as the friendships forced on such journeys were worth more than lessons that could be repeated later, or tasks that could be handed off to lowborn stewards. The boys attended tourneys, balls, hunts and feasts, living the life the bards extolled as the height of reachman’s chivalry. The one time they did not shirk their duties was when their father had the honor of hosting King Mern and his court for a tourney on the Warrior’s day. The Merryweather sons would present the king and his family with silver bowls of dilligrout, a most exquisite stew of capons, white wine and almond milk. They had the joy of tasting it once the Gardeners had their fill, a taste they would never forget. On the tournament field three days later, Mern knighted them both, though Dorian was only sixteen at the time, green as a knight could ever be.
Five years later, as news of Aegon Targaryen and his early conquests spread, the lords of the Reach were summoned to Goldengrove, where they found a veritable forest of Westermen’s banners being planted beside their own. The fall of the Storm Kings had led to a whirlwind of diplomacy between the houses of Gardener and Lannister. The plan was presented to the lords with the two kings sitting beside one another on the dais as though they were brothers. They held up Aegon’s letter of demands, scornfully reading it aloud and then proceeded to tear it up to a roaring acclamation from the hall. Standing there before the hall, Mern could hardly be called the Warrior incarnate. There stood a man well past his prime, old enough to be a grandfather and with no great victories to his name, in battle or on the tourney field. All the same, this man, whom they called their king, always seemed to know exactly what to say to win someone over. If he’d declared war on hell itself that evening, the Merryweather brothers would probably still have marched off with him when the next morning dawned. Bennard and Dorian shouted as loud as anyone, death to the foreign upstart. That evening were betrothed to westerwomen they’d never met before, made plans for a real battle, which they had never fought in before, and drank, ate and sang as though the night would last forever. House Merryweather was not able to secure a command, yet King Mern remembered his stay at Longtable fondly. He gave Bennard and Dorian a place in the vanguard, and even adorned Bennard with a brooch of the order of the green hand the morning before the army Goldengrove, a momentous honor which Bennard would cherish for the remainder of his days. He did not have many left, as it turned out. The Field of Fire began like a dream, as the two brothers rode off at the break of dawn, two out of five thousand sets of gleaming armor atop proud warhorses. By the end of the day it had become a nightmare. Caught up in the maelstrom of battle, Dorian did not see the moment when their loss was assured, but the Gods know he could hear it, the creeping, hungry flames that descended on the reachmen like an army of its own. As hundreds were broiled inside their steel plate and thousands more choked on the inferno’s horrible vanguard of black smoke, Bennard and Dorian broke and fled. They were not far behind the retreating Loren Lannister in their escape, but half a minute made all the difference. The lines of fire fanned out, hunting more living things to devour, and engulfed the two brothers. Dorian could feel how the flames spread from his surcoat to his undershirt, all the way down to the hairs on his chest, beginning to sear his skin. In a desperate act he threw himself in the Blackwater, and would have perished if not for the shoddy work of his squire that morning, which left him able to tear off his plate before he could sink. With bloodied, burn-marked fingers, he clung to the roots of a tree by the riverside, water up to his chest. He was retrieved after some time, how long he could not say. For the next two moons his mind was adrift, distracted from his pains by milk of the poppy. The next two were far worse, as he grew more lucid and realized the extent of the damage. A burn-mark stretched from his right thigh, all the way up his chest and left bicep to the apple of his neck. Many times over, flakes of dead or dying skin had to be peeled off by the maester as the scabs kept bursting with blood and clear liquid. By the end of that year he was able to walk again, though the burn mark would leave a feverish red mark across the front of his body, his new skin settling into twisted lines.
Bennard was far worse for wear, alive yet burned all the way to his face and crippled from a fall off his horse. His nose and ear-lobes had to be cut off, too burned to save, and even his eyelids were permanently scarred, unable to sprout new lashes. The more lucid Bennard became, the deeper his sorrow. Eventually he began refusing food. The new lord of Longtable would not eat anything his cooks set in front of him. In spite of his ever present pains, Dorian began going to the kitchens, reprimanding the cooks for their failings. He knew his brother well and knew his palette, and began ordering them to make his brother’s favorites. When he felt they were making mistakes, he interrupted their work himself. He was a stranger to the kitchen, yet would criticize how things were cut too roughly, spiced too little or too much. He was a terror to the cooks, yet they could not refuse him.
His attempts to intervene were however hampered by a newfound aversion to heat. The sound of the hearth, of boiling and searing, the general sense of warmth around him made him nauseous and caused his movements to seize up. Still, he went to his brother’s bedside every day, and afterwards he forced himself back to the kitchens. His sister, Lydia, tried to stop him at first, but soon found her protes fell on deaf ears, and so joined him, if only to leash him in when he went too far. Finally, there was only one dish they hadn’t tried; the dilligrout they’d once served to the late King Mern. Every time it was made, it came out wrong. It soon turned out the cook who had served them that evening six years ago had since retired, and his exact method had never been recorded or taught to anyone else. Dorian would first invite the man to Longtable, then summon him with armed knights when invitations were refused.
Theomar, the man who appeared before him, was a sorry sight, looking frightened and confused as he was taken to his old workplace. It was explained by his sons that he’d been growing senile even six years ago, often snapping at the kitchen maids under him when his memory failed him. Since then he’d gotten worse, seldom eating, let alone cooking. Something in the old man’s eyes did seem to brighten for a moment when the sounds and smells of his old kitchen surrounded him, and Dorian ordered him to make dilligrout. Before long that faint spark had been drowned out by tears. He would start boiling capon or crushing almonds, only to leave the job half-done whenever he had to fetch something new. Serving maids were put at his disposal to bring him ingredients, yet an ingredient ordered would be met with a reprimand as he seemed to forget which dish he was making every few minutes. Finally Dorian snapped at the man, grabbing him by his collar and shouting accusations of treason against House Merryweather. By the time Lydia could restrain him and try to apologize, the man was a wreck on the floor. After watching it for a while, waiting for the man to get up and continue his work, even Dorian was overcome by pity and shame for what he’d done. The old cook was praying to the gods, begging forgiveness for his failings. Dorian began to realize he’d broken a great man down and would himself beg forgiveness. He offered the man his old cook’s quarters back for the rest of his life, and promised his sons that his maester would tend to the man in his old age, that he would be fed from Longtable’s stores.
At this point, he resolved to make the dilligrout himself. Through it all, Bennard was barely clinging to life, or rather being tethered to it by the will of others. He could only be fed when drugged down by the milk of the poppy, and the more often it was used, the less effective it became. Every day Dorian braved the kitchens, yet he could not recreate the flavor of that wonderful night. It was by the grace of the gods, perhaps with Theomar as their vessel, that Dorian would even come close. The old man could no longer cook, but over time he began to wander into the kitchens and sit down on a chair. At first Dorian thought the man only sought the warmth of the hearth for his weary bones, yet he discovered it to be more than that. Theomar’s eyes were like clouded glass, yet they brightened every now and then, hearing almonds being ground, smelling capons searing in fat, as though it was stirring the kitchenmaster of yore back to life. Eventually Dorian began to walk up to the old cook with his ingredients, bidding him to smell or taste small portions. Sometimes he got simple instructions out of it, ‘too coarse’, ‘too sour’, ‘underdone’. Som times a mere nod or frown was all Theomar managed. Over the course of a couple of days, Dorian put together one final attempt to get the dish made rightWhen he arrived in Bennard’s chamber, he was met with a look which brought forth discomfort that no flame could produce in Dorian. Plainly, raspingly, his brother asked him why he wouldn’t let him die. It was easy, Bennard reasoned. All Dorian needed to do was wait and become lord. The words almost made Dorian throw the dilligrout on the floor. Almost. He placed two bowls on Bennard’s table, the dilligrout and one brimming with milk of the poppy. Dorian told his brother to make his choice. If he sought death, Dorian would let him, but he would not hear that it was an easy thing, watching his brother die. That evening, the milk of the poppy was carried away by the maester, the empty bowl of stew taken to be washed in the kitchens. From then on, Bennard ate what his brother brought him without complaint. He lasted just into the new year, dying on its tenth day. In the predawn gloom of the twelfth, Theomar died in his sleep
Dorian took up his lordly task joylessly. His old wanderlust returned, spurred by the horrible memories that now stained Longtable and the reach itself in his mind. The final straw came when their new Tyrell overlords, insisted on him marrying a lady from a dornish house. His previous betrothal had fallen through, as the parents of his western bride had not wished to draw the ire of the Targaryens by maintaining an old alliance meant to oppose them. Instead of obliging, he boarded a ship from Oldtown going east. It stopped only briefly in Planky Town before going to Tyrosh. Noting him to be a nobleman, a few of the city’s wealthy men would host him for a while, though they quickly lost interest when his lack of knowledge of trade became apparent. After that, he spent time in the markets and squares where the common people lived. His old curiosity was piqued, and he decided to embark on a quest of learning, fashioning himself another Lomas Longstrider. He moved on to Myr, and the experience was much the same in broad strokes, a few rich men showed interest and quickly lost it. As he’d visited the dye markets he went to see the city’s famous artisans at work. One thing was notably different, he met a Tyroshi woman with green-dyed hair, going by the name Maryah. She was a trader, and the two had taken the same ship to Myr. She had been to Myr before and showed him many of its secrets. They spent an entire day in one of the vast delicacy markets so she could show him the many tastes of the city. Having no plans in advance, he asked where she was headed next.
Without a second thought he would join her on a journey to Lys. He soon understood it to be a test. It was not long before she teased him, speculating he’d only joined her for a chance to see the famous pleasure houses. Evening after evening they stayed in the city and Maryah would tease and test him over the matter. Finally he told her he’d renounce his betrothal for her, that there was no one else in his eye. She laughed, replying he would not have to. The next morning, Dorian awoke to find that she was already up, the green washed from her black curls. Maryah had in fact been Joanna Dayne, his dornish bride to be, having traveled the same route as him ever since his ship stopped at Planky Town to refill its food and water. She was already quite familiar with the three closest free cities, having served as a dornish envoy on behalf of its spice traders. As they planned their return to Westeros, Joanna asked him what else in the world he wanted to see. Within a few moons of being wed, they left Westeros, not to return for three years.The journey was what his mind needed, away from the Reach, its knights and tapestries, hunts and tourneys. Ultimately, the lords and knights of his homeland, for all their songs and poetry, lived every day in preparation for war, frivolous though the preparations were. Joanna showed him a different world, the remnants of Old Valyria. War was to be sure inescapable. Wherever they went, there were soldiers, tapestries, contests of arms, and yet the cities housed something else as well, a boundless potential for creation, commerce and growth.
Thanks to Joanna Dayne’s knowledge their stays became far better planned, and they could enjoy the hospitality of wealthy locals far longer. She knew how to talk about the spice trade and similar matters, and Dorian began to pick up on it. On their second stay in Myr, he procured a great deal of fine parchment and began taking notes, everything from negotiation tactics and the prices of cloves or red peppers to court customs, as well as more eclectic pieces of knowledge, details of running an eastern estate, descriptions of technological marvels he had never seen in Westeros, and ingredients in the local food. By the time they neared Qarth he had quite the list of recipes, among other things. There he was even able to learn a few all the way from Yi Ti, as some local cooks catered to merchants from the Golden Empire. On their journey home they’d end up taking the opportunity to see the newly made port of King’s Landing. By that time, a third member had joined their journey, their infant daughter Florys. Having left Longtable in the care of his sister and steward for three years, Dorian finally accepted the responsibility of running his ancestral home.
Longtable was considered to rule over some of the best lands in the Reach, ideally situated along the river with abundant soil which could provide two grain harvests in a year. Having seen the estates which supplied the great cities of the east, Dorian was all too aware of its comparative shortcomings. He found that the abundance of the land had a counterproductive effect, breeding complacency and carelessness. From his grandiose tour of the east, he went on a painstaking tour of his own lands, trying to get an overview of everything he ruled over. He paid the citadel a fee to send him half a dozen maesters in training for a season. These young men, literate and numerate, would serve his own maester in conducting a survey of the land, giving Dorian account of all resources at his disposal as lord. The results were quite varied.
Some peasants were found to have remarkable agricultural insights which they had no way of writing down, entirely reliant on passing the knowledge to their children. Knowing the risks of such a method of transferring knowledge, Dorian ordered such insights recorded. In other places there were farmers and communities who were unwittingly exhausting their soil. Instances of lack of fallow land, excessive grazing by cows and lack of crop rotation were also made note of, followed by edicts against such heedless practices. Septons, sheriffs and tax collectors were given written copies and were obliged to read them to the peasantry wherever it was deemed necessary. It also became part of the obligations of farmers to plant a set amount of clover in their fields and pastures, a practice some had taken up on their own but which had already become a standardized law among the estates belonging to Myr and Volantis. Irrigation was expanded and land inheritance was reformed to prevent the splitting of fields past a certain threshold.
Lord Dorian was not always successful. Some eastern ideas had been useful innovations which improved conditions across the board. In time he learned that the peculiarities of the westerosi system were sometimes necessary for the sake of stability, not merely the misshapen fruits of ignorance. His attempt to enclose part of the common lands proved abortive, as it nearly caused a peasant rebellion. A procession of aggrieved smallfolk headed for Longtable had to be dispersed by knights, armed with wooden clubs to prevent needless bloodshed.Two men were hanged and five sent to the wall, but the reform was thereafter abandoned, leading the populace to calm down. Dorian was not much of a military leader and had not wielded weapons since the Field of Fire. He became aware of his need to bolster his forces, a notion reinforced by the establishment of the Black Roses not long after his return, and again with the Kingswood Catastrophe
In the meantime, he and Joanna raised a family together. Three more daughters would be born healthy, with a couple of miscarriages and a stillbirth in between, also a daughter. Their travels did not entirely come to an end. In 13 AC they would tour the northern free cities of Norvos, Qohor, Pentos, Braavos and Lorath, which they had missed on their original journey. The lion’s share of 17 AC was spent on a journey to the Summer Islands. At other times they would make shorter journeys around the Seven Kingdoms, where they felt more secure in bringing their older children along. Whether it was visiting Joanna’s family in Dorne, tourneys and feasts in the Reach and West or even one trip to see the wall, a nameday wish by Florys, they were often on the move. Like most of their peers, they frequented Oldtown and Highgarden
The growing rift between the two queens and their children was a situation Dorian would watch with dread in his heart, remembering keenly how a generation of young men had been brought to the field of fire. To his mind, the Targaryen rule ought not go to waste. Like Valyria of old, it had begun with fire and blood, yet similarly peace and prosperity had followed in its wake. If only the dragons could stand united, perhaps another long peace like the one the Freehold once enjoyed could again be established. If not, another century of blood was upon them. Under Dorian, Longtable became a place where he sought to bring together people from across the kingdoms and forge unity over the dinner table, an attitude which somewhat vexed and confounded his more militaristic daughter and heiress, Lady Florys. Even amid her questioning of the viability of his peaceful ways when surrounded by those who would make war, a terrible sight would steel his resolve, watching the Mander burning green, every bit as terrible as the flames from twenty one years prior. That night he made a simple vow, never again.
The League of the Cornucopia, he would name his little group, a gallery of lords and ladies whose acquaintances he’d made over the years. With these fellow gourmets he would share the culinary knowledge he’d gleaned from his journeys in the east and west. Most unusual for a lord of his rank, Dorian came to spend a great deal of time in his kitchens, testing out recipes himself. On occasion, the dishes he served to his guests for these small, intimate gatherings would be the work of his own hands. The membership did vary from time to time, both based on who could make it and who he sought to bring together. Rather than a fully closed circle, the League is more like a form of feasting, only it’s done for a much smaller crowd, without the public spectacle. Such occasions allowed for more refined foods which did not need to be served to hundreds and kept constantly warm over the course of hours like some common tavern stew. It also opened up an arena of more intimate diplomacy and negotiation for those who sought it, hosted on neutral ground by a lordly mediator, free from prying eyes.
Timeline:
25BC: Dorian is born, second in line to Longtable
24BC: His sister Lydia is born
9BC: House Merryweather hosts House Gardener for a tourney and feast. Dorian and his older brother Bennard serve the dish of honor to King Mern Gardener and his family. During the subsequent tourney, Mern knights both boys, despite their inexperience and lack of victory in the tourney
9BC-2BC: Dorian spends much time travelling the reach, attending events
1BC: Dorian and Bennard fight in the vanguard at the Field of Fire. Both are burned, Bennard far more severely than Dorian. Lord Merryweather is killed. Traumatized by the battle and his new maimed body, Bennard starts refusing food. Dorian desperately tries to re-create the dish they served King Mern eight years ago. The cook who made it has since gone senile, but eventually manages to help Dorian re-create it. He is given a place at court as apology for his mistreatment at Dorian's hands before this occurred.
1AC: Lord Bennard dies at the beginning of the year, leaving Dorian as lord of Longtable. His sister Lydia fulfills her betrothal to House Tarly, becoming lady of Horn Hill. At the prospect of marrying a Dornishwoman on the King's orders, Dorian decides to leave Westeros to put off his marriage. In Myr, he meets a woman calling herself Maryah, claiming to be a Tyroshi merchant. They fall in love and travel to Lys together. There Dorian promises to set aside his betrothal for her, whereupon she reveals herself as Joanna Dayne, his dornish betrothed.
1AC-4AC: Dorian and Joanna wed at Longtable, then depart on a new journey of the east. They reach as far as Qarth before turning back home. In 3AC, on the way back, their first child, Florys, is born while the couple are in Volantis, on the way home. They return via the newly built port of King's Landing.
4AC-8AC: Using knowledge from the east, Lord Dorian embarks on a project of rationalizing the agriculture of Longtable
5AC: Dorian and Joanna have their second child, a girl named Ellyn
8AC: Their third daughter, Desmera, is born
13AC: Dorian and Joanna spend a year travelling the northern free cities
14AC: Their fourth and final daughter, Gwin, is born
17AC: Dorian and Joanna undertake a journey to the Summer Islands with their children
23AC: The aftermath of the battle of Stonebridge brings back memories of the Field of Fire, as the Merryweathers watch burning slag run down the Mander
25AC: The Merryweathers travel to the celebration of the maturity of Aegon's sons
Family Tree:
Arthor Merryweather (father, d.1BC)
Cerelle Merryweather (pending family connection) (mother, d.20AC)
Bennard Merryweather (brother, d.1AC)
Lydia Merryweather (sister, b.24BC)
Glendon Merryweather (uncle, d.1BC)
Myrcella Pommingham (aunt, d.22AC)
Leo Merryweather (cousin, b.13AC)
Joanna Dayne (wife, b.26AC)
Florys Merryweather (daughter, b.3AC)
Ellyn Merryweather (daughter, b.5AC)
Desmera Merryweather (daughter, b.8AC)
Gwin Merryweather (daughter, b.13AC)
_____________________________________________________________________________________
Auxiliary Character:
Name and House: Florys Merryweather
Age: 23
Cultural Group: Reachman
Appearance: [A short, muscular woman with wavy black hair, normally worn in a bun. She has high cheekbones and a proud demeanor. Her rigid strength stands in contrast to the more relaxed nature of the Merryweather court, one she finds overly lax and casual](0_0.png (896×1344) (discordapp.com))
Trait: Hale
Skills: Swords (e), Essosi Blademaster
Talents: Dancing, Fishing, Cooking
Negative Traits: N/A
Starting Title: Heir to Longtable
Starting Location: Opening Event
Timeline:
3AC: Florys is born in Volantis, while her parents are on their way home from Essos
10AC: Florys starts training under Saathos Trevelyan, her father's Master at Arms
13 AC: She joins her parents on a tour of Pentos, Braavos, Norvos and Qohor
17AC: She travels with her parents to the Summer Islands
19AC-23AC: As she comes of age, Florys becomes more critical of her father's desire for peace, viewing it as increasingly far-fetched amid the increasingly controversial regency and the impending succession dispute. She resolves to make the kinds of connections her father seems unwilling to, in case of war
25AC: She accompanies her family to the celebrations
NPCS:
Ser Leo Merryweather (Age: 37, Archetype: Magnate) Lord Merryweather's first cousin, he has become an indispensable agent in the daily running of Longtable. Despite his foppish demeanor and aparent laziness, he is highly capable and loyal in his task of increasing his family's fortune. He remains happily unwed
Saathos Tevelyan: (Age:48, Archetype: Master at Arms) The son of a Lysene father and a Myrish mother, Saathos initially sought a career in amongst Myr's military officers, however his family's relatively low status proved an impediment to further promotion, later compounded by a dispute with a superior. He met Lord Merryweather in 3AC and eventually travelled West to offer his services five years later, finding his career progress stonewalled in his home city. Well into middle age, he still looks firm and imposing as profesisonal a soldier ought to

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Im not sure if this is more a discussion or debate about the differences in mentality that shapes the issue of abortion. I welcome whatever opinions people have on this topic.
We teach men and women fundamentally different things about their own bodies and their personal protection.
For example, self defense.
Men are taught to fight and if two guys get in a fight then one may overpower the other or scares one off. They are taught to beat each other and inflict damage but not permanent damage to stop the other. They are also more likely to be cleared when it comes to killing in self defense.
Women are taught to fight but self defense is considered a separate type of learning, because the chances a women holds her own against a man in a regular fight according to rules isn't great. Adding a weapon may give her an advantage but can lead to her being charged with murder over self defense.
So self defense for a woman includes fighting with the intention to incapacitate or kill your attacker. You attack areas that could blind or cripple someone. You are also taught that you claw, bite, leave marks across them or get their blood on you so if you lose, they can find the person that attacked or killed you. It's better to die at the sight of the attack vs being taken to another location.
If a woman doesnt think that she can cause that level of harm without a good change of success or isn't comfortabled thinking she might kill someone, then she is told to do whatever she needs to to survive. That usually leads to, well you must have wanted it, you didn't fight back or hard enough.
Men are taught that people, police or healthcare, will listen to them, take them seriously, and help them.
Women are taught that people, police, and healthcare, won't and that what happens. Rapes aren't investigated, kits go untested, womens fear is seen as being emotional, or that health issues arent that bad she just complaining.
So bringing that over to abortion, women see another situation where they will have to go it alone. Where help is dependent on if people believe you vs need. Where help might not exist because women are suppose to give birth so it doesn't matter what they go through, theyre built to deal with that, and whatever other nonsense people believe about women and pregnancy.
We just had an entire debate about a strange man and a bear where it was made clear death isn't the part most women fear. That there are worse things than death to them. Is it a surprise then that death of the unborn is seen as a lesser evil than giving birth into abusive or other less than ideal circumstances or for cases where the child will likely die before birth/shortly after and have a life of pain?
Do you think that the differences in how we teach men and women about protecting themselves along with the way we are obviously treating each other is leading to this vast divide in beliefs?

Bounty: Find "Random Baddie." He was last seen at the wreck site on Clio. Access to suitable transportation and combat gear required.
Sounds reasonably interesting to me and it pays well, so I accept. I recall my Corsair because I know wreck sites can get a little spicy now and I head out. I jump in 185km away and start flying towards the wreck site. While I'm still quite a distance away, "Random Baddie2" pops up on radar. He's 15km in front of me and right in line with the wreck site. I decide to scan him.
"Random Baddie2" is a man amongst men, a real threat to society. He's exuding so much manliness that he's rockin' a Prospector while attacking people. "Random Baddie2," then has the audacity to radar lock me. Radar lock me, while in a Prospector?! The impudence! He's now at 10km.
I think to myself - He's not my guy, buddy - The contract specifically advised against such activity while pursuing my bounty, but I know he'll just pester me like a petulant child if I don't murderize him. The distance between us is now down to 5km.
I let the ship coast down as I switch to missile mode and lock him up with 3 Arrester III's. I fire shortly after they lock on. All three missiles hit him but he flies straight through them like a juggernaut, undamaged. Tanky Prospector I guess, damn. He's now at 1km and closing fast.
I switch to guns and get a few shots into him, confused and cursing. He's still undamaged. I'm not moving at this point because 1) He's in a Prospector and 2) I fully expected those missiles to do something to a Prospector. He's now less than 250m from me and he has not slowed down or changed direction one single bit.
I start moving laterally but it's a Corsair. Before I can avoid him he boosts himself directly into the nose of my ship, exploding into pieces on contact. My poor Corsair gets the soft death treatment and I enjoy a nice slow ride down to Clio to think about what I did wrong - sort of like a time out in the corner.
AI Kamikaze attacks, lol. I usually only got that with PVP. Don't be dismissive of even the small ships now (or in this case a friggin' Prospector), it'll cost ya.

I really hate my job and too afraid to leave.
I (30M)'ve been working as a purchasing/procurement officer for this hospital for 5 years. I was the most ambitious during my second year in with overtime, helping colleagues, giving feedback and presenting ideas on how to improve our department's workflow, to resupply for our departments, etc. but my manager(F) rejected all of them. Ok, fine. When someone(let's call her Am, F) transferred to our department, our manager listens to her so well. Am asked me beforehand if there are any feedbacks and ideas, so I shared with her and she to our manager and she listens. I felt like I'm being treated very unfairly.
Other than that, my department consists of only 7 people; 1 manager(F) + 6 employees (4F, 2M - I'm one of the M). I'm just sitting here and hear this huge sexist bias conversation mostly on the other guy and "men are supposed to do this or that", or that I'm supposed to be loud, etc. I just want to do my work and begone. Plus, I got racial slur once a twice, and a few racist comments but I only just reported one of the slur. Manager had a talk with him and he said he was sorry but he never apologize to me. I'm guessing he was sorry he got reported.
After that I thought just focusing on CrossFit could help me cope with my work and I happen to spent a lot without any savings on accessories, equipments, shoes, clothing, etc. Obviously, it didn't help at all. I burnt out on my third year, feeling stuck and lost so I started saving my money starting december 2022 and stopped going for CrossFit classes, to save more. I managed to save 50% of my salary every month and most of the time I didn't even finish the other 50% that I was supposed to spend after I finish buying a pc.
The plan was to actually quit my current job in February 2024 and take a few online courses I've been eyeing on but here I am, still working. "Why didn't you do the online class after work?" The plan was to focus entirely on the course. Right now, I go home, I workout, I shower, eat, I'm already tired. I passed out while lazy gaming and watching movie sometimes.
I'm afraid to quit because I don't know how I'll end up. As far as I know, my current workplace pays me well and there's additional 2 bonuses every year. At the same time, I know if I stay any longer, I won't have any fulfillment and career growth.
I asked my cousin, he's sort of an entrepreneur and have a few successes. I told him about my situation and he told me I'm burnt out and better to find another job or quit if you saved enough. I said to him, I really want a fucking 6 months break, at least. He said "oh shit, that's quite bad burnt out".
I just feel so worthless and still lost. I calculated if I'm only getting groceries and fuel, it can last me at least 2 years and that's excluding car services, eating out, entertainments, short travel trips, etc.

I (30M)'ve been working as a purchasing/procurement officer for this hospital for 5 years. I was the most ambitious during my second year in with overtime, helping colleagues, giving feedback and presenting ideas on how to improve our department's workflow, to resupply for our departments, etc. but my manager(F) rejected all of them. Ok, fine. When someone(let's call her Am, F) transferred to our department, our manager listens to her so well. Am asked me beforehand if there are any feedbacks and ideas, so I shared with her and she to our manager and she listens. I felt like I'm being treated very unfairly.
Other than that, my department consists of only 7 people; 1 manager(F) + 6 employees (4F, 2M - I'm one of the M). I'm just sitting here and hear this huge sexist bias conversation mostly on the other guy and "men are supposed to do this or that", or that I'm supposed to be loud, etc. I just want to do my work and begone. Plus, I got racial slur once a twice, and a few racist comments but I only just reported one of the slur. Manager had a talk with him and he said he was sorry but he never apologize to me. I'm guessing he was sorry he got reported.
After that I thought just focusing on CrossFit could help me cope with my work and I happen to spent a lot without any savings on accessories, equipments, shoes, clothing, etc. Obviously, it didn't help at all. I burnt out on my third year, feeling stuck and lost so I started saving my money starting december 2022 and stopped going for CrossFit classes, to save more. I managed to save 50% of my salary every month and most of the time I didn't even finish the other 50% that I was supposed to spend after I finish buying a pc.
The plan was to actually quit my current job in February 2024 and take a few online courses I've been eyeing on but here I am, still working. "Why didn't you do the online class after work?" The plan was to focus entirely on the course. Right now, I go home, I workout, I shower, eat, I'm already tired. I passed out while lazy gaming and watching movie sometimes.
I'm afraid to quit because I don't know how I'll end up. As far as I know, my current workplace pays me well and there's additional 2 bonuses every year. At the same time, I know if I stay any longer, I won't have any fulfillment and career growth.
I asked my cousin, he's sort of an entrepreneur and have a few successes. I told him about my situation and he told me I'm burnt out and better to find another job or quit if you saved enough. I said to him, I really want a fucking 6 months break, at least. He said "oh shit, that's quite bad burnt out".
I just feel so worthless and still lost. I calculated if I'm only getting groceries and fuel, it can last me at least 2 years and that's excluding car services, eating out, entertainments, short travel trips, etc.
Just trying rant this out hoping I could come to a conclusion.

TL;DR: Touch starved girl wishing for romance, being burned alive and need relief or maybe just borrow someone's ear.
I just need to vent to anyone right now! Like how do you deal with this torture?? I'm trying to date again after my last relationship and years of stringing together relationships, typical serial monogamist. I took a couple years to be purposely single and work on my relationship with myself. I started therapy and seeing a psychiatrist, got my future planned, am well into my transition, and I decided to put myself out there again.
Now, I'm confident in my looks. I'm tall, fit, and (please forgive my vanity) rather freaking adorable. One nights or short-term relationships never interested me before. I always considered myself demisexual, not anymore. However I have this constant burning fire of longing in my chest, it's new and exquisite! The idea of a beautiful woman's weight against me, laying on the couch watching some silly rom-com, or in the kitchen making dinner together. These ideas always excited me before but after fully realizing myself it's an absolute wonderful agony!! I feel like it's tearing me apart.
I find myself constantly fantasizing about intimacy with anyone. Online dating has proved difficult, I set a personal boundary not to date co-workers, and I don't drink so bars seem less than ideal to meet anyone. I don't care if it's one night or a passionate and disasterous fling for a few months, the need to quench the flame in my heart feels all consuming. Random selfish crushes that I know are futile ideas that won't come to fruition. What can a girl do to survive this?
Does anyone have tips? I've thrown myself into my hobbies and picking up overtime to keep my mind busy. Nothing is helping. Hanging out with my friends as often as I can to fulfill my social needs and cuddling with my cat for the warm comfort of another living creature has only magnified the yearing that being touch starved has instilled in me. There isn't many queer spaces in my city and the ones that are here cater mainly to gay men.
I didn't know how badly I missed being with a partner, how much I missed looking into someone's eyes and leaning into their body. Sharing time and getting to know them. It always came so effortlessly before, taken for granted and squandered.
Thanks for listening if you made it this far. I just needed to get this off my chest even if spoken into an uncaring void.
<3

Hello, my wife is a hair industry vet and we are opening a new salon for her to work in. We are doing a small build-out in a small space we found - only two chairs. She will work full time in one of the chairs, and we want to rent out the other.
We live in a small resort town with lots of transient stylists and clientele, and there's significant interest amongst the people we know of doing short term booth rental - like, a barber rents for one day and just smashes out a bunch of men's cuts for all of his friends. Or another stylist we know maintains a small clientele and comes to town once a month to service them all in one week. So she'd be interested in renting by the week.
Basically I'm looking for software that would allow stylists to reserve the chair for shorter periods of time. It would need to manage the availability of the chair, so when someone logs on to reserve the chair, they can see when it's open and when it's booked.
Does anyone know of existing offerings that have this functionality?

so basically I, (F19) have a history of men, its not something im proud of, i just tend to make shitty decisions when im under the influence of many things like alcohol or horniness. while im not saint, when i want to lock in, i do. i was in a year long relationship with a man and it went great but bec of some issues we broke up, no cheating involved.
recently, I have been going out a lot and meeting a lot of people including men. I met a guy who happens to own and host parties/clubs. I knew what I was getting into at first, but I wasn't thinking much of it i was just h0rby. After the first time we hooked up, I told myself never again because after we finished i saw his sheets were stained of cum not mine. I ghosted him for a bit, but then my demon came out again. And I saw him today. we had a lot of sex and cuddled naked and were sleeping on and off. While we were laying in bed together, I asked him what he wants to do with his life. And if he plans on And if he plans on just fucking bitches. his answers pleased me and he seemed shocked that a girl he was just hooking up w actually cared.
The thing about me is im a lover girl deep down. i just have some under lying issues that im working on. but i yearn for human connection.
shortly after our conversation, he asked if he could put a baby in me...point is our entire hang out was full of remarks saying that he wanted me to stop being a thot. We went and got food, and I ate with him and his little sisters together. he asked me what i was doing tmr and we made plans, there was a point where he said that his friends might go to our plans and I was like whyyy and he said you have to get along with my boys. It wasn't until minutes later I realize what he had said and I was like "wait why do I have to get along with your boys".. he smirked and i was like you want meeee and he said i want uu to stfu. we get to my house and he grabs my hand and kisses it and weve been texting since i got home. i told him i don't wanna fuck tmr and i said do u still wanna see me? he replied yes, then i went for a long shot and said we could go on a date. he seemed hesitant, but he agreed. then i texted him to figure it out im going to sleep gn. he said to spell it out and that ill see him tmr.
a couple questions: am i being delusional or does he want me for more than sex? if yes, what do i do? I feel like it would be hypocritical to say I can't cuff him because of his past. HELP

Helena - Courtlady of Lannisport

Part 1

Reddit Account: SunstriderAlar
Discord Tag: u/SunstriderAlar
Name and House: Helena
Age: 22
Cultural Group: Westerman
Appearance: Helena is a young woman with soft doe-eyes, and unmistakable curling, golden hair. Raised by smallfolk, and Septa’s she wears her hair up and away from her face to ensure she does not let it get wet while cleaning or in her mouth while singing. She has delicate, porcelain, pale skin and cloudy soft blue eyes. No taller than 5’5” and is most often dressed in conservative simple fashions gathered by herself, or more elegant options gifted to her by a doting patron for formal events. Never shy to present her opinion, Helena has seen the world change, and her place in it numerous times. She is unafraid to do what she must, but knows the role of a woman.
Helena prefers to wear blue and yellow, the colours of Lord Swyft’s old sigil even though she has not lived in Cornfield for many years, and has no personal attachment to the house. Her real love though is unique broaches, and hairpins, different pins reveal different favours or stylings for different lords. She does enjoy crafting dresses as well, when the rare bolt of fabric comes her way she enjoys sewing and tailoring. She is often seen carrying a unique wooden six stringed lyre, or a three stringed lute; the former the cause for her name the Six Eyed Singer. She daps herself with lavender water most mornings, and cleans her teeth with mint, and rose now that she is employed by the Lannisters of Lannisport. Clean teeth are the hallmark of a charming, easy smile to make hearts of men and women alike flutter.
Trait: Elusive Shadow
Skill(s): Espionage, Devious, Schemer, Covert, Rumourmonger
Talent(s): Storyteller, lyre playing, deft fingers
Negative Trait(s): N/A
Starting Title(s): The Six-Eyed Singer, Septa Morgan, Jinny of Aegon’s Rest
Starting Location: Opening event

Part 2: Biography

Swyft Sept (3AC - 15AC)
Helena’s early life began in the Sept of Cornfield where her mother begged the Septa’s to take her. Dutifully, though reluctantly, they agreed, for what else were they to do, and where else was the girl to go. To the Governess of Cornfield, under the sanctity of the confessional, the woman, aching from the pain of birth and shame, confessed that the little girl was the bastard of Lord Swyft. The Governess, doubtful but knowing the man was not without vice, kept the secret to herself and allowed the girl to remain. The woman, who’s name was never revealed even to the Septa's, fled into the night shortly after never to be seen again. Helena was then, as promised, raised by the septas and the Governess of House Swyft. She learns basic literacy from the Seven Pointed Star with the Sisters and numbers from the Governess. Alongside her studies, she was put to work on chores like maid work, baking, cooking, cleaning, and serving Lord Swyft.
In 11AC, a travelling minstrel named The Lying Lyre arrived at Cornfield. A dashing young man with a shock of blonde curls that tumbled down his back like a mullet captivated Helena with his songs of far-off lands and noble families. In particular he sang of the Maiden’s Bay Tourney, the feats of House Targaryen, and after some time the Field of Fire and the failings of House Lannister. House Swyft was wealthy, and the Liar’s talents earned him much and more coin from the silver mines.
Helena of an age where curiosity ruled a child’s mind was enamoured with the man and his songs. She took up practising the lyre with him, and discovered that while no maestro, she had deft fingers and a mind for lyrics. Impressed by her interest and talent, the Liar gifted her a lyre before he left for future profits in far off lands. Some years of practice though, and a natural storyteller and rumourmonger Helena combined tales of the Seven Pointed Star and was invited to sing in the sept and even twice for Lord Swyft.
Six Eyed Singer (15AC - 20AC)
It was not to last though and following the slaughter in the Kingswood, the line of House Swyft was extinguished. Not wanting to test the new residents of Cornfield, the Warriors Sons and Poor Fellows, after all, all men have vice, she left Cornfield, and took to singing on the road. Going under the name Lyrebird, Helena played and sang for her coin and lodgings, a young girl protected only by being seen when she wanted and an elusive shadow when she did not.
Times on the road were not easy and The Lyrebird drew much attention. This necessitated the need for another alter ego and after a year on the road and towns and villages through the West were soon visited by the travelling Septa Morgan. The Septa heard confessions and sins, gave forgiveness and offered small advice to the poor and needy. She spared coins where she could and allowed Helena to remain covert. It did not matter to most that she was no real septa, she wore the robes, knew the words, and offered as a good moral compass to children. For most in the far flung reaches of the West she was enough.
Being raised in the faith though telling a perpetual lie about being a sister of the cloth was a little too much to bear for Helena. After a year with the reputation of Septa Morgan growing through the small folks of small villages, the Septa soon faded away. Instead Jinny of Aegon’s Rest started coming to smaller castles; Turnbury, Redbramble, Parren Hall, Oldstars and the like. She took on odd jobs cleaning, cooking, teaching a daughter to read or a son to do his numbers. She was after all no threat, knew her letters and numbers herself, and was capable of scheming many a septa or fatherly gatesman to let her in.
Jinny of Aegon’s Rest became a traveller through the keeps of the Westerlands. She heard the tales from children and small folk alike. She had never meant to undertake espionage, but her place inside various courts across the land, and her talent for being in the right place at the right time meant she was an unfortunate witness to many a courtly intrigue. As her small gifts earned her again a broad reputation she would be traded between greater lords. Soon she was playing for the elite, and earning the rewards that came with it. Helena of Cornfield once again took a new name, the Six Eyed Singer, which she quickly used to escape her courtly life and take again to the road as a travelling minstrel.
The Strawberry Tourney and Ball (20AC - Current)
The Six Eyed Singer formed a little bard troupe, nothing extravagant, she wasn’t playing for the Lannisters or the Targaryen’s yet, but enough to provide several shows across the Westerlands, Reach, and former Kingdom of the Trident. Her troupe, much like she had been accidentally, was devious, and while she or they sang, pockets were pinched, and many houses were looted. Her troupe when apart played for all the minor and middle nobles of the Trident and of the Reach too now. She and they were as much a part of the debauchery of the West as any of the wealthy merchants. There was no party too scandalous, no whorehouse unsung, no court too far flung for the right price and the West had gold burning through pockets.
The Six Eyed Singer was not the only bard with a troupe though and soon through the Kingdoms after Aegon’s conquest artisans, bards, and mummers alike filled the world with talent. In 20AC the Songbird made its mark, and with a little bit of fun, a lot of resentment for nobility, and an ingrained childlike sense of chaos, the first of the Songbirds’ letters sang. The voice of the little people flooded across the western coast of the Iron Throne. Lord Belaerys’ dragon had eaten several children whilst growing fat and hungry. Lancel Lannister had claimed the maidenhood of his chambermaid, and sired a bastard all at the age of just fifteen. Lord Frey schemed against his overlord for a free and independent Trident once again. Was all of it true? Impossible to say, but there were enough truths to turn heads, and the songs of the Songbird began to cause chaos in the Westerlands most of all. The Six Eyed Singer and her troupe played through it all, they were bards, but the Songbird was the most famous one of all; not their little merry band.
The Six Eyed Singer though continued her good work, and with her reputation came an invite to participate at the Strawberry Tourney and Ball alongside the other bardic troupes of the West and Reach. She was not so famous as to be alone, merely enough to earn an invite, and a paid job. The planning was years long, and with new songs and tunes came new rumours. While the Six-Eyed Singer played songs such as Fleece-eye, Dornish Sour Grapes, and Lion of the West, the Songbird worked their chaos.
A ripple pulsed through the tourney, first a cheater in the joust was revealed, Ser Byron who was disqualified as a result. Then a second cheater, this time in the melee, then a third cheater again in the joust Lord Payne had accepted a bribe from Lord Reyne to fall early. Cheating in the tourney was just the start, cheating in the bedroom of the ball was the main affair. Here the Songbird revealed three affairs; Lords Serret and Lyden were both fathers to children on women , not their wives. While Lady Serret and Lady Ruskin were bedfriends behind their husbands’ backs. There was one final scandal though, which was revealed to all at the tourney. Septon Karron was no true anointed Septon, and worse there was legitimacy to foulness surrounding young boys who served him.
The chaos broke over the tourney and all the artisans in attendance were forced to flee. Yet, all was not lost, for Lord Gerold Lannister of Lannisport had taken his eye to Helena and her playing. He offered her a job, for he wished to be a great sponsor of art in the new Seven Kingdoms. So it was she came to a courtly position, advising the Lord Lannister on matters of fine art, musicians, mummery, and all manner of artisanal dealings.
Timeline
3AC - Helena is born in the Sept of Cornfield, her mother a woman from Silverhill who begs the septa’s to take the girl in. She reveals her identity to the Governess of House Swyft, and claims the child is Lord Swyft’s bastard. She leaves shortly after giving birth and recovering.
4-10AC - She is raised in the cloister with the sisters, her Septa mothers raising her lessons on reading from the Seven Pointed Star, and numbers from the Governess to ensure that she can do basic arithmetic. She takes basic lessons in scullery maid work, baking, and general service work for old Lord Swyft.
11AC - A travelling minstrel, The Lying Lyre, comes through Cornfield to sing songs of the tourney of Maiden’s Bay, House Targaryen, and the Field of Fire. He takes a liking to the young Helena, and gifts her a lyre. He stays in Cornfield for some time, both because it is lucrative and because he enjoys teaching the young girl.
12-14AC - The Lying Lyre departs Cornfield but leaves a talented and hardworking Helena with the sisters once more. She takes to singing sections of the Seven Pointed Star, and even performs for Lord Swyft a few times.
15AC - The House of Swyft dies out and Helena, unaware of her claimed parentage but with a talent for song leaves the cloister and takes to the road, not trusting the new Warriors Sons or Poor Fellows. She uses the name Lyrebird and sings and plays her lyre for coin to survive.
16AC - After a year on the road Helena takes up the name Septa Morgan and takes to hearing confessions of the poor and needy across the Westerlands. Many of them need guidance and wearing her septa robes she is the perfect person to hear them. She is no real Septa but no amount of explaining the technicality of that stops people asking her to forgive them.
17AC - Her reputation as Septa Morgan grows a little too heavy on her shoulders, and Helena takes to wearing more common clothes, moving from keep to keep and working as a barmaid, scullery girl, and baker amongst other professions. She goes by the name Jinny of Aegon’s Rest.
18AC - Chance takes its favour on her, and Helena with her simple lyre is invited to play at a feast in Lannisport. Dressed now as a travelling minstrel she performs for the gathered nobles and earns herself invitations to other keeps. With her generous benefactors she hires a small troupe to perform her songs across the West.
19AC - Travelling the Westerlands, Helena under the moniker The Six Eyed Singer, takes her talents for being present at feasts and gatherings of all sorts.
20AC - Rumour of The Songbird takes hold, and the West is awash in the voice of the little people.
21AC - The Strawberry Tourney and Ball unfolds and Helena’s skills earn her favour with Lord Gerold Lannister.
22AC - Lord Gerold Lannister recognising her many talents picked her up to be one of the primary serving women in his House. His eye for artistic endeavours endeared him to her enough for a comfortable place as a favoured bard, painter, educator, and common court woman.

This is my first time DMing a campaign, and I have decided to go the route of homebrewing my own world. I'm having a hard time actually building the foundations of the world, and was hoping for some advice or inspiration
I brainstormed some ideas about the world, but I just can't get past writer's block and feel stuck. Listed below are some of the ideas I have regarding some basic lore.

• Main religion is that of worshipping the sun and moon as gods.
• The oceans of the world are black like ink, and are what the Gods used to create life. (The life of men)
• The children of the 2 main Gods represent landscapes, such as mountains, the ocean, ect.
• The first life created by the Gods were dragons that became guardians of certain areas of the earth and are designed by the environment they inhabit, such as a Red Dragon protecting a volcano
• Some of the children aren't just landscapes but represent ideas such as hope, death, life, evil etc.

Overall I have a broad idea about the creation, but not how people interact with Gods or their children in forms of worship.
As for the actual world itself I'm having a hard time creating factions or just town building in general. I've watched some videos for how to create towns and cities, but am having a hard time for inspiration on where to put things, and creating geography for the world. I messed around on a fantasy map building site and randomly built a world outline, but that's all I got. I never realized how hard it is to actually world build lol.
I've only had one session so far with my group. In the encounter I had them start as level three and were all together underneath a colosseum as they were captured and sold into slavery to entertain the masses of lower nobility families that had been pushed away into exile by a paranoid king that was in power named Hagvard evil eye.
I had them in a cage under the colosseum that was lifted using gears to move them into position on like a Ferris wheel type contraption. On top of the floor was a trap door they came through. The colosseum had 60 foot walls high with a mote that was 20 feet across and secondary walls 80 feet high behind the mote with a couple of wizards 120 feet up using wall of force to keep the masses safe. The location was on the island in the bottom left corner of the map. Essentially it's Australia. They ended up fighting some Worgs, and winning. I put them back down to get a short rest, but they decided to escape even though I made the bottom of the colosseum have 12 human guards, and the cages of animals they were going to fight in the ring. I tried to make it player proof, but of course things go off rails.
I have nothing set up beyond this and pulled all of this out of my ass the day before the session. I have no actual caste system or towns set up besides this fighting arena.
Any advice or ideas would be great for inspiration, thank you in advance!

He pursued me. I acquiesced, because in all honesty I was lonely and struggling to make meaningful connections in a new city. I was in a pretty bad place mentally, but it felt good to receive attention. We also met at a film screening, so there was some common ground and a shared appreciation for film and media.
Months in, I find out...
He has a keen, particular interest in Asian film and media - particularly East Asia - Japanese, Korean, and Chinese films.
He follows Asian cooking channels (by white expats / travelers only) and tries to connect with me through his "knowledge" of Asian food and primarily only cooks Asian food. He'd also try to "bait" me by asking me to come over and that he has prepared familiar, cultural dishes that I grew up on. I thought this was innocent at first, until he would control and lecture me on how to properly prepare the food when we'd try to cook together.
He asked me to shave so I look more "smooth" and to fit his pornified, aesthetic preference. I was uncomfortable at first and bewildered by this request so early on, but I did it anyway because of shit boundaries.
He tries so hard to connect with me to "my culture" through superficial things like media and food, but when I engage with him in deeper sociopolitical issues concerning our community, seeking a more emotional response, he falls silent, weak, and invalidates my experiences as "doom scrolling." This is the most aggravating crux of some White men who have this "Asian preference" - it's the consumption of my body and culture, but ignorance of my humanity. The last part - willful ignorance - is what makes this problematic and painful for us. Yes, not all white guys, but some.
He is not the most politically informed, well-read, yet holds highly opinionated beliefs of certain Asian countries from what has been espoused by Eurocentric media. You enjoy my "culture" and "beauty," but still deem my country of ancestry as inferior, whether consciously or not.
He has an obsession over a new ultra-girly K-Pop band that consists mostly of underage girls - musical choice that is not deemed socially appropriate for his age. I completely got the ick.
He has a Chinese calligraphy tattoo on his ankle that he supposedly regrets and wants removed, but I saw him shamelessly wearing ankle socks and cargo shorts in the summer and he has had this tattoo for almost two decades now. Absolute ick.
He jokingly (but not really) called me, "arm candy" and was pretty fixated on my looks.
He likely has a history of dating and pursuing Asian women and/or non-white women in general.
After all this coming into realization, I just felt too uncomfortable and dissonant to continue. I'll never know the 100% truth, but I eventually listened to my intuition.
My shame and regret comes from staying for too long and not listening to my own values, boundaries, and feelings. I'm sure there were elements of genuine like and attraction toward me, but it doesn't discount this feeling I couldn't shake that I was pursued initially because of my "Asianness" ("East Asianness," probably his fetish of choice, ignoring the massive, diverse region that is Asia-Pacific) and projected a lot of his East Asian interests, obsessions toward me and objectifying me as his young, "arm candy" Asian girlfriend, without the responsibility or baggage that comes with interracial dating in a racist society.
Dating is hard, especially for us, and what this experience taught me is to ruthlessly cultivate self-love, healthy mental well-being, more disciplined boundaries, higher standards of dating, more initial vetting and questioning, listening to my damn intuition, and just deeply knowing yourself and holding yourself with pride and self-respect to be more than just some White male chauvinistic fantasy projection.

First, I'll start off by saying that this is probably a me problem, and that I'm pretty sure I just need to learn how to not get anxiety from this, but I still want feedback to see what other people think.
I've been seeing this girl for a short time now. We're aren't exclusive, just going through the dates to see where it leads. In person and via FaceTime, our chemistry is off-the-charts, and we have both confessed in person that emotions are strong. We have another date planned for two weeks from now (we cant do sooner because of I'll be out of town for work for a bit).
The issue I have is that I'll have one day where she'll txt things like "You’ve been on my mind a lot☺️", or how our next date we have planned to make pizza together for our dinner date, and she says "Thinking about you and I making pizza together now, it’s got me cheesin☺️". There are other examples, and it gives me very strong confidence that she's really into me.
The anxiety starts to kick in though when we are vibing and in the middle of a back and forth thing, and the conversation just stops... she just doesn't reply. Or I'll send her a picture of something cool, and I'll get nothing in return.
For example, this past Friday night I sent her a text immediately after she sent me one (during a somewhat back-and-forth convo), and it was something along the lines of "can you see the northern lights where you are?" I waited about 36 hours for a reply on Sunday (a day and a half later) and it was.... "Hey baby😋". Didn't even respond the question at all. I then asked what she's been up to and she said she's been spending time with her mom for the weekend (because it was mother's day) and proceeded to tell me what they've been up to.
Her communication style is just.... odd compared to what I've seen from other women I've dated. It's not how I would ever communicate via txt at all. She skips questions, or doesn't respond to a picture of something, etc. It feels like she ignores it completely? Or is aloof in some weird way?
Now to be fair, I have brought up the topic of communication already as I was previously kinda worried about how things would go silent for long periods prior to this one, so, trying to be a communicating guy, I said about a week ago:
"I wanted to ask you… how much communication would you like between us while we’re apart? Are you ok with txting and FT’s, and how often? I wanted to check in and see what you’re comfortable with."
and her response was:
"I’m happy with our level of communication:) to be upfront it may get a teeny bit less frequent just because I keep a pretty full schedule. Especially during the summer months. And I’m also not on my phone very much. Tbh most of my phone time recently has been chatting with you, and that’s not a bad thing! I love our conversations and connection. Just wanted to be transparent so you don’t think I’m ghosting or anything haha My social battery isn’t the best so if I ever do need a day or two with no contact, whether that’s because I’m busy or just recharging, I will 100% communicate that😘"
I don't know.... am I overreacting here? Do any other men/women here txt like this? Or just hate txting? Or just are never on your phone? She's 25, and I figured all young women in their 20's would be glued to their phone.
Maybe I'm just being stupid insecure and need to let it go.
Thoughts?

I hope mods will allow me to post this.
I hope to end this topic for once and for all.
I feel like by being a virgin you will draw the short straw in marriage in today's time. I have been through the retroactive sub and observed that retroactive jealousy is a condition that lasts for your life time if you are with someone with a past rocher than yours. You will have to deal with it or get separated with your partner if you can't deal with it, In most cases people with retroactive jealousy till their life or relationship ends.
Now in muslim marriages since past is supposed to be hidden. It comes out one way or another after marriage. When this happens then the spouse which was virgin before marriage has to suffer and face the pain alone.
Imams and shaykhs being compassionate allow people who were fornicators and give them hope. Nothing wrong with this, but it comes at the expense of people who didn't have any past of their own.
Since I am a man I will tell you how men usually deal with this.
1, Divorce 2, second wife 3, cheat
1, divorce - first of all it is expensive and even more harder when children are involved. In today's times Divorce is a taboo and divorcees will have to face difficulty in finding good matches. Especially in muslim community.
2, second wife- most women don't want to deal with polygny, finances and the laws make it harder to get a second wife.
3, cheat- cheating is haraam and if opens the door for Fitnah, it doesn't solve any problem but instead creates new problems.
Now if you were chaste and get married to a spouse who had a past. Then it will haunt you for the rest of your life. You get stuck in a loveless marriage. Your piety, taqwa and eman taken a hit. The fear of being lied to if you put your deal-breaker for marriage and being shamed for. It for wanting a virgin spouse puts fuel to the fire.
Those who don't suffer from retroactive jealousy. Let me tell you how it feels like. Imagine 1000 daggers poking you at the same time you think about your spouse. Trust me such a person can never love you or trust you after knowing your past(if you have a haraam past).
If it was upnto me then I would rather be burnt alive rather than getting married to someone with a past. Because I know that such a marriage will be the cause of a pain which will last forever.

I hope mods will allow me to post this.
I hope to end this topic for once and for all.
I feel like by being a virgin you will draw the short straw in marriage in today's time. I have been through the retroactive sub and observed that retroactive jealousy is a condition that lasts for your life time if you are with someone with a past rocher than yours. You will have to deal with it or get separated with your partner if you can't deal with it, In most cases people with retroactive jealousy till their life or relationship ends.
Now in muslim marriages since past is supposed to be hidden. It comes out one way or another after marriage. When this happens then the spouse which was virgin before marriage has to suffer and face the pain alone.
Imams and shaykhs being compassionate allow people who were fornicators and give them hope. Nothing wrong with this, but it comes at the expense of people who didn't have any past of their own.
Since I am a man I will tell you how men usually deal with this.
1, Divorce 2, second wife 3, cheat
1, divorce - first of all it is expensive and even more harder when children are involved. In today's times Divorce is a taboo and divorcees will have to face difficulty in finding good matches. Especially in muslim community.
2, second wife- most women don't want to deal with polygny, finances and the laws make it harder to get a second wife.
3, cheat- cheating is haraam and if opens the door for Fitnah, it doesn't solve any problem but instead creates new problems.
Now if you were chaste and get married to a spouse who had a past. Then it will haunt you for the rest of your life. You get stuck in a loveless marriage. Your piety, taqwa and eman taken a hit. The fear of being lied to if you put your deal-breaker for marriage and being shamed for. It for wanting a virgin spouse puts fuel to the fire.
Those who don't suffer from retroactive jealousy. Let me tell you how it feels like. Imagine 1000 daggers poking you at the same time you think about your spouse. Trust me such a person can never love you or trust you after knowing your past(if you have a haraam past).
If it was upnto me then I would rather be burnt alive rather than getting married to someone with a past. Because I know that such a marriage will be the cause of a pain which will last forever.

I hope mods will allow me to post this.
I hope to end this topic for once and for all.
I feel like by being a virgin you will draw the short straw in marriage in today's time. I have been through the retroactive sub and observed that retroactive jealousy is a condition that lasts for your life time if you are with someone with a past rocher than yours. You will have to deal with it or get separated with your partner if you can't deal with it, In most cases people with retroactive jealousy till their life or relationship ends.
Now in muslim marriages since past is supposed to be hidden. It comes out one way or another after marriage. When this happens then the spouse which was virgin before marriage has to suffer and face the pain alone.
Imams and shaykhs being compassionate allow people who were fornicators and give them hope. Nothing wrong with this, but it comes at the expense of people who didn't have any past of their own.
Since I am a man I will tell you how men usually deal with this.
1, Divorce 2, second wife 3, cheat
1, divorce - first of all it is expensive and even more harder when children are involved. In today's times Divorce is a taboo and divorcees will have to face difficulty in finding good matches. Especially in muslim community.
2, second wife- most women don't want to deal with polygny, finances and the laws make it harder to get a second wife.
3, cheat- cheating is haraam and if opens the door for Fitnah, it doesn't solve any problem but instead creates new problems.
Now if you were chaste and get married to a spouse who had a past. Then it will haunt you for the rest of your life. You get stuck in a loveless marriage. Your piety, taqwa and eman taken a hit. The fear of being lied to if you put your deal-breaker for marriage and being shamed for. It for wanting a virgin spouse puts fuel to the fire.
Those who don't suffer from retroactive jealousy. Let me tell you how it feels like. Imagine 1000 daggers poking you at the same time you think about your spouse. Trust me such a person can never love you or trust you after knowing your past(if you have a haraam past).
If it was upnto me then I would rather be burnt alive rather than getting married to someone with a past. Because I know that such a marriage will be the cause of a pain which will last forever.

my husband and I have been married for 5 years and he was the first person I ever fully trusted, I truly believed we were the ideal couple. Honest, truthful, loving. sex was better than normal in my opinion. I was a very fit person before my daughter but I gained a little baby weight after I had her, I thought he was okay with how I looked because I was actively trying to lose it. I never thought weight gain would be a strain in our marriage. Long story short, he had to go out of town for a work thing and left our shared laptop. I used it occasionally for Netflix or just background noise while I did things around the house. on this particular day I wanted to go through our daughters new born pictures which we had stored on said laptop. I saw a strange screenshot of an instagram I had never seen before and my curiosity got the best of me. To save you from reading some boring details I confronted him about the ig immediately (my first mistake) I was certain there was an explanation as to how it wasn’t his instagram. He gave me a bunch of bs stories on how it wasn’t his, gaslit, TRIED to convince me. I had enough proof to know it was his but he just kept lying. I asked how long he had it for and he said a week and then I later found out he had it for over a year (or longer) he used that instagram to follow half naked instagram models, women he had previously slept with. one in particular which he knew I had an issue with. later on I also found out he followed my best friend (for context she’s a beautiful woman with a freshly done bbl). He used to actively criticize men who’d follow multiple ig models, who constantly liked women’s pictures while they were married and it drives me crazy to think how much of a hypocrite he was being. idk what I want to get out of this, maybe to vent or to see if anyone else has gone through this. what would you do? do you stay? Is it best to leave? I feel as if it’s not a big deal but I also lost any trust I had in him. The way I see it is, if you lie about a secret instagram, what else are you lying about?