Here is how I started my campaign, I designed an encounter involving a simple choice, outcome that lets the rivalry between players and Ayo team begin naturally, and a way for rudium to show up early (my players were really interested to find out more about it). I'm now 14 (5-6h long) sessions deep in the Call of the Netherdeep, during the faction quests in Ank’Harel.
My party started at level 3, on session zero (with roleplay only) they decided how they met and formed a team. Proper campaign started when they were on their way to Jigow, to prove themselves in the Festival of Merit.
Let me know what you think, this is my first real contribution to this subreddit and I've used so many other wonderful things that were posted here! :)
They arrive in Jigow, the town is in festival preparation mode, but there have been problems. Outside the town we find a caravaner (blonde, richly dressed elf) Estelar Naeharice that is arguing with a (bald and half-naked goblin) Briord'e. Aurora Watch officer Durth Mirimm is trying to calm them down. Durth asks the team that is waling by for help.
Turns out that the goblins, while excavating at the foot of a small 'Bald' mountain in the north, came across a strange red ore. As they began to excavate it, they heard a strange, masculine scream (Alyxian's hurtfull memory trapped in the stone) and after a moment something attacked them (I described it as a sand worm, using bulette statistics. One goblin was killed and the rest fled towards the road where a circus caravanner with two carriages happened to be travelling, one carriage contained a trained (circus attraction) mother owlbear and the other her baby owlbear. The goblins managed to escape because the monster threw itself at the cage with the baby, gobbled it up and took it underground. After that the mother owlbear ripped open her cage and fled into the forest in a rage.
Briord is willing to pay 200 gold pieces to kill the sand worm. Estelar Naeharice blames the goblins for bringing the sand worm towards his caravan. For bringing the mum owlbear back alive, he also offers 200 gold pieces. Despite the team's offer to help, the elf and the goblin continue to argue and shout. After getting angry, the goblin suddenly offers 300 gold pieces for... a dead owlbear to roast the beast for dinner. The elf, in response, decides to offer 300 gold pieces for a live worm, which he would train and make into an attraction.
So now players think they can kill/bring two monsters and can decide what to do with each, with more money being offered by one quest giver to spite the other one.
They heroes go to the nearby forest (which I described as a thicket of trees with bloody-red leaves) to find the ruined cages and the caravan. There are indeed traces of a battle there. The worm escaped to the north where it eventually hid underground and the owl-bear, although chasing it at first, later turned back and headed south from the caravan.
The trick here is, that chasing or tracking the monster will take a long time, and in the meantime Durth will ask Ayo and her team to do the same thing. When players return to the ruined caravan with one of the monstera caught/killed, they will find tracks of someone else being here, and can spot from the distance their rivals returning to Jigow dragging a corpse of the other beast.
This can spark their interest in that other group and allow for fun roleplay encounters during or before the festival.
As for the monsters themselves. Owlbear: Beast is corrupted with rudium from contact with corrupted sand worm. This section involves survival checks and later a chase, with finally a battle among the trees that the owlbear will use to protect its rear end, to not allow them to flank it. I also gave +2 to its AC and rolls and some HP boost. You can add legendary actions like additional attack or her attacking the tree to make it fall on the character. Players will need to provide a solution for taking the furious beast alive.
Sand worm: Beast is also corrupted with rudium. Following the tracks, they make their way through the dense forest to the mine where the beast has made its lair. If they battle outside, it will be easier, but they need to figure out how to draw the beast out. If they fight inside, the mine is a small cave with a couple sources of rudium in the walls. The beast can use legendary actions to explode the rudium, or to attack walls, trying to collapse the mine with heroes in. Players will need to provide a solution for taking the furious beast alive.
How did the corrupted sandworm get here? That's the riddle that the players will maybe much later figure out. Mine explanation was, that the summoning of the Jewel in Jigow also transformed some of the rudium and Alyxian influence to Wildemount, with the sandworm being in a wrong place, and getting corrupted.
Enjoy!

I recently stayed at a Sheraton in Hong Kong. The stay was ruined by obnoxious mainlanders
The room above me had a 4-5 year old "baby" who constantly dropped things and banged on the floor past midnight. We couldn't sleep and it seemed to keep the entire floor awake.
They even parked their baby carriage in the hallway! (here's a video showing how loud it was: https://streamable.com/y1w1qp ) - the noise level was absolutely insane.
We called front desk, duty manager several times and the noise only got louder, like they were doing it out of spite. They seemed completely unwilling to enforce their own rules on one room for the sake of everyone else. I'm Platinum, lifetime gold and I doubt they were capitulating to the room above us due to status or something
My question is: how often are guests actually removed from a hotel for noise violation and disturbance? What does it actually take at your property? Can you basically do anything short of start a fight at a Marriott Hotel, and still not be removed?

My sister found this guy overseas and they had a baby. They flew to visit my family and i. I felt a strong responsibility that I picked up a second job to help her financially. My father found him a job but after one day he quit because he didn't like how the boss talked to him. My father kicked them out of the house and I proposed my sister to move in with me. My sister got a job at a market and he stays at home now. I got home yesterday at midnight and he wouldn't stop talking about how he wants another baby with her, that he'll be happy to be a stay at home dad and having money is not important if you're 'happy'. He mentioned how he doesn't want to me like me working 15 hours a day (they don't know I picked up a second job). This pissed me off NOT because they're sleeping in my bed while I'm in the living room floor but because they're here for 3 months and he has no plans in working while he is here. He said with confidence that he'll have another baby with her which really pissed me off. It pissed me off when he asked how many kids they need to be eligible for food stamps. All the sacrifices I'm making now is for my sister but he seems to be enjoying life in NYC unemployed while my sister works. I don't know how to mention it to my sister because I don't want her to go against me by defending him, nor I don't want my words to affect her actions. I don't mind them staying at my little apartment, but it pisses me off that he's happy to be a stay at home dad while my sister works and he wants another baby. Before all this situation my mother told me to send my sister money to help, instead I decided to buy baby products such as diapers, carriage, bed etc. But now I refuse to send them money because i he already feels comfortable. I want the best for my sister, I'm already sacrificing a lot for her but refuse to anymore because of what her boyfriend said to me.

First Issue!

• Author's Note: I had this draft I thought I'd finish up and post. If you enjoy my writing, check out my other series here on HFY and you can support me and my writing my Ko-fi page! Where I also have a gallery for character references and general art I drew!

I stood atop this hill gandering down upon the hamlet below, this world unknown to me. Before I gave myself the courage to descend the many steps that lead down to the town surrounding the castle, I took a moment to peer beyond the stone walls. To the South and East I saw a deep forest and further in the distance of it a spine of mountains with white peaks, barely visible, almost fading into the horizon. When my eyes turned to meet the west I saw grain fields, yellow like live gold, some green pastures and a river with wind mills decorating parts of its shore.
"Yeah... this is beyond a dream, at this point." I said, voicing my thoughts with a sigh as I slowly began descending the steps.
Half way down the annoyingly plentiful steps, my lack of exercise began showing. I'd set my aluminum chair down and sit on it, holding in my lap my bowl and spoon. I opened the small leather pouch of coins that was packed tight and I took one of them between my digits.
"Damn... these suckers are as big as small biscuits... fuck... if I'm seen with this kind of thing, I'm for sure getting mugged, not to mention, I really need to find a tailor. I'm gonna stick out like a sore thumb..." I said while looking at the way the coin I held. It had writing on it and realizing that despite the language here sounding like English, the characters looked anything, but like those I'm used to. Another thing that I took a mental note on.
After observing this much, I stuffed my pouch into my pants and underwear, despite the embarrassment I knew it was going to cause me, but better to be looked at weirdly for seeming freakish, than to be seen as a worthy target. Taking my few things I owned in my hands, I took a few good minutes before I reached the Hamlet proper.
The place was rather nice, stone cobbled streets, mainly for foot traversal, although I had noticed a few of them wider and with carriages and wagons passing through and building in a rather medieval Germanic style, with visible wood framing and white clay like walls, the upper floors extending outwards, slightly larger than the ground ones. It didn't take long for the locals to take notice of me either, and after just one too many gasped and began murmuring and whispering, pretty much everyone either stared or stole a glance.
No matter what I would have done, I would have stuck out like a bent board in a fence. These people although most looking mainly human, stood at tallest 5'10 and at about average somewhere between 5'5 to 5'8, some looking even shorter, I was 6 feet tall and I'm wasn't a string bean either.
Starting to feel the public's eyes biting at me, I tried to see if I could speak with someone for their aid, but as soon as my eyes met another's they'd flinch and scurry as if they suddenly remembered they were in a hurry. 'Am I really either that ugly or that intimidating looking?' I thought as a bit of hope shriveled up in me.
I froze internally, my body moved, but my nerves were a wreck, if nobody was going to answer me anything, I was going to waste a lot of time, trying to figure out what anything was or where. Still, my hopelessness didn't last long as I was a swinging metal sign depicting a hammer, an anvil and a horse shoe.
"If that doesn't scream Smithy, I don't know what does." I whispered with glee as I allowed myself a brief moment to smile. I thought that one way to talk with people is to talk shop and that was the best I could muster now.
I moved with a slightly quicker pace to meet the door of the establishment and unknowing of the customs here, I knocked decently loud on the door before entering. Once inside, I closed the door behind myself while clearing my throat. "Uhm... hello?" I asked looking about.
As I keenly took in my surroundings I realized this place was filled to the brim with various metal tools, horse shoes, door parts and other day to day metal bits and bobs. Although fewer in number, there were also some pieces of armor and weaponry hung from supports or resting on various shelves or in barrel like buckets.
Soon after my eyes shifted onto a figure behind a thick and solid wooden counter. She seemed seated and with her face obscured by a book. I thought at the time that she might have not heard me enter, but that theory got quickly disproved.
"Aye, Welcome to da Strikin' Irons. Whatcha need that we can help ya wi-.... BY GAB'S BEARD, THIS BLOKE IS BLEEDIN' MASSIVE!" the woman said loudly and with a rather surprised expression.
Behind the counter was a rather short yet stout woman, with ginger hair braided in a long tail, a face full of freckles and green eyes looking wide eyed at me as if I was a unicorn. If I was going to guess, I would have bet all my money that she was a dwarf, although who knows what they call themselves here.
"BERTHIE STOP STARING AND SCARING ME CUSTOMERS! SEE WHAT THEY WANT AND DO YER BLOODY JOB, LASS." A gruff and thick voice yelled from the back and to the left, where a door was cracked open, the sound of hammering and a smell of smoke originating from there.
After that thick voice coming from the back finished yelling at Berthie she snapped out of her surprised stupor. With a clear expression of embarrassment, she cleared her throat. "A-aye. M'apologies. What can we do ya for, mister?"
"Ah- Uhm... I'm new about and I needed some help getting my bearings and I also wanted to see if you'd be interested in the metal of my chair. I think it is mainly aluminum with a few bits of steel, save for the padding." I said while trying to find my words as best I could.
"Huh... ya I wouldn't have guessed yer not from around 'ere, heh. Let me take a look at that an' feel free to ask away whatcha need." Berthie replied as she got off her chair, letting off a light chuckle as she approached.
"Ah, a woman of sarcasm, I can respect that. Here." I replied with a chuckle of my own and then set my bowl aside on an empty corner table and with both my hands I unfolded my aluminum chair and sat it before Berthie.
As she got closer and examined it, I only now realized she was one of the shortest people I must have seen yet here, just a bit over my hip, if not for the mature voice and grown up face and body, you'd mistake her for a kid from afar or a tiny human person.
At this point my curiosity got the best of me and while she was inspecting the chair, I couldn't help but let my inner child be curious and indulge in asking about her before anything else.
"So... I'm not meaning to be rude, but I'll be honest, I don't think I've ever met before someone of your kind... I was curious to know a bit more." I began saying while trying to cautiously choose my words, as I was unaware on how to start a discussion about a different race.
"Ya mean a physically strong an' independent woman or a Dwa'amer?" Berthie asked with a quick and sharp wit in her tone, a smirk on her lips. She'd await for an answer while inspecting the folding chair with quite a decent amount of curiosity.
"Hah! Both, haha hah~..." I'd reply with an intentionally comical excitement to my tone.
"Ah, good ta kno'. Well there be nothin' too special about, Dwa'amer folk. We's short an' stout, see quite well in de dark, we can hold our liquor and we came from da mountains and high hills mainly. Lot o' folklore stories an' all that about how we came ta be, not me personal interest if I'm honest. Hm... this chair o' yours be an interestin' contraption. We can buy it off of ya fer the metal, but ya reckon you wouldn't mind if we copied da design? Seems mighty useful." Berthie would ask me as she turned to face me, her expression changing to slight unease. Without realizing I started looming over her a bit, wrapped tightly into her brief retelling.
I realized quickly my mistake and I quickly straightened and rectified my position, taking half a step back. "Ah! Sorry. It's just... it all sounds fantastical to me. Uhm, feel free to copy the design, I don't exactly own it. How much can I get for the metal?"
"Ah well... it ain't much so I'd reckon about two silvers, but I'll toss yer way a gold piece fer the design o' the chair. Ya look like ya need it." Berthie said as she looked me up and down, her eyes pausing when she looked below my waist. Her jovial expression turned to seem perplexed, her freckles plastered cheeks had turned slightly red.
Not realizing at the time that my awkwardly stashed pouch was what distracted her, I looked a bit concerned. "Are you alright? You seem flushed. Do you need to sit back down?"
"Ah! No. I mean... yeah. I just need to take a lo-... I mean... I just need to take a seat. Anyways. Just... ask what ya wanna ask while I grab ten silvers for ya, we don't really often get straight up gold coins, so we try an use the change we got. It'll be a good chunk o' money." Berthie replied as she refolded the chair and sat it aside, moving with quick thumping steps behind the counter.
"Ah. Well... I wanted to know of the whereabouts of a few locations. I need to pass by a tailor, a library and you know of any good places to sleep and/or eat at and that won't be too expensive?" I asked counting my points of interest, saying them in whatever order I deigned as a priority.
"Well, there's Rucker. He's got a tailor and he ain't too bad, passionate ol' man about his cloths. When you leave here take a left and go until ya see the fountain an' well in the middle o' town and then take another left, his shop has a four leafed clover on a wooden sign. As far as libraries go... there's one further on the right side from the fountain, big ol' buildin' mainly made o' stone brick, but I heard they charge ya fer enterin' so just be careful that yer pockets can handle it. Hmm... if yer lookin' to stick around ya could grab a room from da Hearthfire Inn, but they do be a bit more expensive since they give ya a whole room an' key to yerself. If ya want food there's a tavern called Bojack's Tankard. Both of those are near the South gate, from the fountain forward." Berthie explained while getting ready my payment. Once she got the coins, she wrapped them in a bit of cloth and tied them with a string holding them over the counter for me to grab.
"Thank you so much. Knowing this is going to save me time and some self esteem. Although my walk through was brief, I've been eyed by about everyone since I came down to the town." I said excitedly as I took my extra cash and pocketed it.
At this point Berthie looked at me curiously, her ginger eyebrows arching as if she pondered a question I didn't ask. "Hmm~... ya didn' walk much in town and ya came down 'ere. It don't sound to me like ya entered through the gates now, did ya mister?" She asked as the corners of her mouth arched in a mischievous smirk, my expression most likely didn't help at the time, betraying part of my situation.
"Ah... no, I came from the north gate." I answered quickly which got a laugh out of the stout woman.
"That's a half assed lie, cause there ain't one there, only the palace. Hm... wonder what a poor lookin' fella like ya was doin' there, unless yer not as poor as ya seem. Eh, ya don't look like much of the folk around 'ere, so I wouldn't be too surprised if ya were some sort o' royal knight in hiding or anything. Hells, ya look like one o' the Highlanders from way north, except yer missin' the blue eyes, blonde hair an' sharper teeth, but ya sure got their build and nasty stare." Berthie said as she finished her giggle over the matter, her eyes looking me up and down once more, with a stabbing curiosity.
When I heard the word "knight", my expression must have turned gloomy as Berthie also seemed to change from having fun poking at me to seeming slightly concerned, not by me, but for me.
"Ah-... sadly no. I'm not a royal... nor a knight... I've been told I'm not exactly knight material, heh. It was kind of hard to swallow when I heard, but eh, what can you do? Being a crying baby about it won't change my situation." I said with half a smile as I scratched my nape.
The young Dwa'amer woman smiled sympathetically as she then tried to cheer me up a bit. "Eh, I dunno, I'd say their loss. Based on how massive ya are, I'd reckon you'd make a good one. Plus a nasty gaze and yer decent demeanor might make ya pretty good at keepin' people in check. Don't worry too much about it... uh- HAH! Realized I didn't even get yer name, mister."
My first instinct at the time was to use my full name, but then I remembered... James was most likely going to be announced as the hero at one point or another, with his full name. I thought it might be problematic if we both were known as having very similar names and even unbased rumors were more attention than I wanted.
"D-Daniel. Daniel Nol. Uhm... thanks for all the help Berthie. I really liked talking with ya and you've been a great help, but I have to head out and get myself sorted. So... can I ask ya to not tell people that I came down from the palace?" I said while preparing to head out, which didn't take much, just had to grab my bowl and spoon.
"Hmm... what's in it fer me?" Berthie asked smirking once more, but she did speak in a joking tone.
"Well, I'll treat ya to a dinner in the evening as a thank you, if you'd like. Sounds good?" I asked earnestly, getting a giggle out of her demeanor.
She seemed surprised that I took her question somewhat seriously. She looked at me with her green eyes wide open and mouth slightly agape. "Uhm... sure! Can't say no ta food an' a drink I don't gotta make nor pay for, heh."
"Great. Thank you, again. Good luck with business." I'd reply with a nod and wave, getting a wave in return from her.
Once I was out the door, I walked my way towards the center of town and took a left at the fountain as I was instructed. The gazes of the local people bothered me less now as I knew I was going to stand out less once I changed.
As per Berthie's instructions I saw the four leaf clover sign and the small shop it advertised, Rucker's Tuckering Cloths & Clothes. 'Huh... that's a mouthful.' I thought while I entered the small establishment.
The inside was rather plain when it came to the coloring of the furniture, but the rolls of cloth material and various pre-made outfits, that decorated the shelves and cloth racks, made up for that deficit.
Sitting behind a counter improvised of a table with various material crates under it, stood an old man, around the 5'6" height, balding at the top, but with hair on the sides connecting to a set of side burns peppered black and white. His eyes were a nice blue hue and as he saw me they widened with an undescribeable horror in them.
"My good Gods, young man..." he said with a gasp, as if his breath left him.
"Y-yeah, I know my clothing isn't exactly flattering, I'm here to get a set of new clothes actually." I said feeling awkward due to the Rucker's reaction.
"No, no, sir. Tis your size that left me wordless, my oh my... you'll certainly take a bit more material to get sorted out. Well, I do like a challenge, haha!" He replied with a wide smile appearing on his expression, his side burns puffing up with his smile.
"Oh- alright. That's fair. Well, glad I came to you, Mister Rucker. So... are we doing measurements or... something else?"
"Pfft, measurements. I haven't needed to measure someone by hand, Gods know for how many years now. I'd say you are 6 foot and I can generally eyeball the rest of your measurements with pin point accuracy. Alright. We'll get to it in a minute, but I am a straight forward man, so how do you intend to pay? Price depends on the quality of the materials you want and it will be a decent bit pricier due to the custom sizing, but... I'd be interested to drop the price down a good notch if I were able yo acquire your current garments. They do seem rather unique." Old man Ruckus said as he twirled the pointy end of a greying mustache.
"Ah. Well I'd prefer clothes that blend in with the general population, decent enough for travel as well and some good boots that can sustain wear and tear. And I don't mind trading you my current clothes and some coin for like 5 sets of clothing like that." I'd answer honestly and forward.
"Pish posh, not a worry. I'll be done with ya within' the hour. I do have some boots that a leather working friend of mine supplies me with, so we'll get you sorted, lickity split." The eager old man replied excitedly as he already began moving fast about the shop, his steps small, but instead quick and many per second, it was akin to someone tapping their fingers quickly on a bar counter at a constant rythm.
"Ah- I should wash these before passing them to ya. You know a place where I could get some soap?" I asked while looking down at myself, starting to second guess whether this deal was alright. Didn't know how I felt at the time about giving someone my dirty clothes.
"Soap?! Is that regionalism for plant based fragrances? I figured you weren't from around here mister, but just in case, here clothes are clean with water, warm for harder stains, and then lightly parfumed when the customer wishes. For rougher to remove stains, we employ the aid of magicly endowed individuals who can cleans impurities from textiles, although it is not cheap." Ruckus said while already starting to take bits of material and eyeing me while ruffling through various shades of whites, greys, browns and greens.
"Ah- I see." I'd reply before shutting my mouth up. Surprise overcame me when I heard this. A world with no soap. I guess if magic exists, it tends to take the place of various tools and goods that could be invented... but being so expensive. I figured at the time, people had more important things to worry about rather than smelling extremly well or being perfectly clean, still... from that moment a rather entreprenurial idea took root in my mind.
Soon enough the hour passed and Ruckus had me hooked with a nice pair of thick traveling boots, complimentary feet wraps to prevent chafing, dark green loose pantaloons, a nice flowy white shirt with loose sleeves as well as a dark green coat for colder times and a brown cloak. Along with these items I got several pairs of shirts and pantaloons, carrying in color from brown, black, grey and dark green, all of those thing folded neatly and wrapped up in a cloth packet. After donning my new clothes and reluctantly giving away to Ruckus my old in house attire, I bid him a good day and departed from his establishment.
Seeing how the day was going by I passed by a general goods store, that took longer to find than I was comfortable to admit, and I acquired for myself a back pack, a belt with pouches, a water skin, some rope and a general purpose hunting knife. With this shopping done I thought it wise to go and secure myself a room at the Hearthfire Inn. With the instructions that I got from Berthie it was easy to find the place, but the price was rather... steep, yet understandable for a private room. Thought it wise to get only two nights as I might rethink finding a place cheaper that accomodated multiple people in a single room.
After leaving my extra belonging in my room, realizing that lugging all of that around was tiring, I then went over to Bojack's Tankard to check over the place. A rather rustic establishment, made of logs and cobble, a cart wheel chandelier and plenty of hunting trophy decorations on the walls. The place smelles of drink and mainly cooked meat. "God... it's like playing C&C virtual reality." I whispered to myself somewhat giddy.
Knowing it would soon be time for me to meet up with Berthie for our promised shared dinner, I began making my way back towards the smithy she worked at. I attracted way less attention now, despite my large size, but that wouldn't last long, sadly.
As I was walking back from Bojack's towards the fountain, my hearing perked up at a shrill of a scream, followed by several foot steps.
"He stole me coin purse!" A woman's voice yelled out.
"Stop right there, criminal scum!" A more hoarse voice yelled out as it got accompanied by the rattling of armor.
"Heh! I'd like to see you catch me, rust buckets!" A nasal and stinging to the ear voice would yell out.
Indeed, it was a text book chase between a pickpocket thief and two guards, following right after him. Although it was hard to make any details by simply looking back at them with the corner of my eye, I knew they were going to pass me. Most of the people about would stop and lean aside as to not impede the chase, but I thought at the time, I was in a far too good of a mood to let it ve spoiled, so I'd keep my jovial walking pace going. As I heard the incoming thief approach and about to pass me, I'd turn to the side on a dime and stick my leg out quick, proceeding to have him trip up onto the muddy cobble street, with an accompanying groan of pain.
"Ah, pardon me." I'd say stepping over him and then proceeding to the other side of the street before going in the same direction I was heading before.
I was certain I heard noises of tackling and opposition behind me, but I didn't worry much knowing two guards were going to have that handled. What did worry me was the stupefied expressions of the other towns folk about, but I guessed at the time, it was due to my unusual appearance rather than my actions. At the time, I hadn't realized I might have put on myself, more attention than I bargained for.
Leaving that happening behind, after a decent walk I managed to reach the smithy again, although this time, Berthie wasn't behind the counter, instead she seemed to go about the shop, possibly doing inventory of what they still had.
"Welcome, we're closin' shortly, but if ya need somethin' quick, we might still be able to help ya out." She'd speak with her back turned, only half paying attention that someone entered the shop.
"Well, I did promise ya dinner and a drink, but if you aren't interested anymore... heh." I replied with a chuckle as I looked at her smiling.
Berthie would turn back a bit surprised, her expression showing a tinge of confusion. "A-ah... Nol. Ye, no no, I was still up fer that. Thought... we'd meet at Bojack's tho'?"
"Well. I finished my business for the day, as you can see, since I'm not looking like a beggar anymore. I thought I'd take things slow and come here. I hate when mix-ups happen and people say, they meet some place, but miss one another, so I thought it could be fun to come and we could walk and talk to there. If... that's ok? Sorry, if that's weird I didn't know. Not exactly from around." I replied quite panicked, thinking I made some sort of social faux pas.
The stout ginger took a second to snort and laugh as she struggled to hold onto a tome she was writing in. "Pfft Hah ha ha! Ye, figured as much. Nah, it ain' nothin' bad. It's just... nobody goes outta they way ta do somethin' like that unless they be courtin' one another. Heh. Is that what yer doin' then, Nol? Ye don' get into a town properly fer even one day and ye go to court ladies?" Berthie said to me clearly intending to tease my heart out for my slight fumble, although not to make fun of me per say.
Not being completely inept at the art of flirty socializing between adults, I then smirked in returned as I leaned against the door frame. "Well, I guessed I'd make a good first impression. It is not every day a man gets to wine an' dine a strong, independent an' beautiful Dwa'amer woman." I'd reply intentionally theatrical as I approached Berthie with a dignified low step towards her, ending my response with a lean forward and a hand gently stuck out as I did a light bow before her, a smirk on my face.
There was a moment of silence before we both bursted out laughing. "Gods, shite... haha haaaa! If I didn't speak with ya before I'd be convinced ya were one o' them posh uper crust people by the way ya said that shite!"
"Thank you, thank you. I am indeed a performer beyond talent itself." I'd say doing actor like full bows to her and turning to bow to an imaginary audience.
As her laughing fit calmed down a moment, she smiled warmly at me while rubbing one of her eyes. "Alright, get yer jester arse outside an' wait. I'd be done in a momen' and we'll head over, ye?"
As I took a moment to calm down my own chuckles, I nodded while heading to the door. "No rush. Take your time." I replied while exiting.
Outside, I leaned against the wall of the smithy as I looked idly about, a dopey smile on my face. "Maybe, being a nobody in a fantasy world is not so bad."

Hello!
Can anyone recommend shops in Berlin that sell refurbished baby carriages and/or car seats? Preferably a place that offers a guarantee.
We've looked into the options in Kleinanzeigen, but you can never be sure about any hidden issues that the items might have (especially car seats). We'd like to buy second-hand as much as possible to save money, but also balance it out with safety/peace of mind.

Synopsis:
An engineer in another world—blending science and magic to achieve greatness in a world where skills and levels reign supreme.
—
Ethan was just a plain old engineer, but everything changed when he was reborn into a world of skills, levels, and magic. With his advanced knowledge far ahead of the time period he finds himself in, this new reincarnated life will be much different than his last, especially because he can construct, deconstruct, and reconstruct runes—something no one else can do.
But with royal politics, looming tax collectors, a mountain of debt, dungeon incursions, cults, and hostile fantasy races mixing together into a cocktail of bullshit that threatens to bury his dreams; Ethan must bridge the gap between steel and sorcery to grow stronger. — Runecrafting is slow burn. — What to Expect: - Weak to very strong progression - Hardcore wish fulfillment - A balance of action, kingdom building, and runecrafting. - MC will trigger an industrial revolution, revolutionize magic, modernize agriculture, communication, commerce, textile production, education, transportation, sanitation, weapons manufacturing, leisure & entertainment, and medicine.
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Chapter 06

• 1 -

There were fifteen wolves in total, their white fur stained with dried blood as well as ash from the forest itself as their maws opened to reveal sharp teeth. There were several gashes on their body and one of them seemed to be in a really bad state.
Roland had a tight grip on his sword. Roland spotted Ethan’s head poking out. “Lord Theodore, please hide inside!” Roland yelled. Ethan didn’t respond, however. Is it dumb that I want to fight?
The guards were surrounding the beasts and held their swords ready. However, the wolves weren’t attacking. Instead, they snarled and bared their fangs, but didn’t lunge.
They weren’t attacking. They were protecting. And that changed Ethan’s thoughts almost instantaneously. At the center, a female wolf, bigger than the rest, growled in pain. Blood trailed down her fur and a gash ran across her body. It was a wound that seemed to be bleeding a lot, but she kept it covered with her paw, snarling whenever anyone got near. Ethan stared from his carriage. The situation seemed to have taken a turn, but not a bad one, at least, not yet. The guards were ready to attack, but the wolves didn’t. And Ethan was certain that the guards would kill the creatures unless he ordered otherwise.
Ethan stepped outside. Roland and the rest of the guards were alert as they glanced at him.
“Wait,” Ethan said, his voice calm. “Don’t attack.”
The wolves immediately relaxed, albeit only slightly. Interesting. They understand me?
He stepped forward and walked to them. “Can you understand me?” He said.
“Lord Theodore!” Roland yelled, grabbing his shoulder and pulling him back. “Please step back.”
“Wait,” Ethan replied, holding up a hand, his eyes focused on the wolves. The guards didn’t move. The wolves snarled at him and bared their fangs, but didn’t make a move. “I’m not going to harm you.” Ethan raised his hand. “Calm down. You’re hurt, right? I can help you.”
The wolf’s snarl faltered. She looked at Ethan with a confused gaze, then growled again. Ethan, too, was confused now. Could she really understand him?
“You can understand me, right?” He said. “I need to know.”
“Lord Theodore, what is happening?” Roland asked.
“Shh. Be quiet, Roland. I’m trying to communicate,” Ethan replied, raising a finger, and silencing Roland.
The female wolf snarled, looking at the guards and baring her teeth. Then, her gaze landed on Ethan, and her snarl was gone.
“She can understand me. I think.”
“How?” Roland asked.
“That’s not important,” Ethan replied. [Myriad Tongue]... I didn’t know it stretched to animals—no, beasts as well...
Ethan stepped forward; his hand extended towards the beast. “I won’t hurt you.”
The wolves growled and bared their fangs at him. The female growled, then they stopped. Ethan neared, then knelt a couple feet from the biggest wolf. The gash on her chest stained her white fur, the blood flowing and dropping to the ground. The creature was panting.
“What happened?” Ethan asked.
The beast looked at him. Her eyes held strange intelligence. It’s a magic beast, obviously she’s intelligent.
“Can I look at your wound?”
She growled and bared her fangs, causing Roland to slash his sword at the ground in a line. The intention was clear, neither side could pass, or a confrontation was inevitable.
Ethan held up a hand. “Stop, Roland.”
“But Lord Theodore—”
“Stop.”
Roland didn’t respond.
“I’m not going to hurt you.” Ethan frowned. “If you want me to help, let me have a look.”
The wolf stared, her red eyes piercing, her ears folded and tail stiff.
The tension was thick, and everyone waited. Then, she removed her paw from her wound. The cut was deep, and the fur around the gash was charred. It seemed that it wasn’t a natural wound. Ethan could guess it was the result of magic. The cut’s too deep, and we don’t have a [Healer]...
Suddenly, the wolf spoke, “{I don’t want healing, human.}”
Ethan blinked, surprised. Her voice was deep, yet feminine. It wasn’t the type to scare children, but it wasn’t soft, either. More surprisingly, he could indeed understand her.
“What happened to you?” He asked, glancing at her, wondering how [Myriad Tongue] worked. He knew he was still speaking the common tongue of Nur—Leineh—and that the wolf was still growling, but he could understand that growl.
She looked at him, “{That is none of your concern.}” Then, she looked below and moved her muzzle to the ground, and moved something. In a few seconds, a small pup appeared from beneath.
Ethan widened his eyes, “A baby!”
“{You are to take care of him,}” she said—no, she ordered him.
“What?” Ethan said, taken aback.
“{You will take care of him},” she repeated.
Ethan was flabbergasted.
“{You’re touched by the light, and the light has guided me to you,}” she said, then growled. “{I trust the light. However, if anything happens to my Wynd, know that your death will not be painless.}” Saying so, she looked down at her pup, and nudged it forward.
Ethan was still flabbergasted.
The female wolf looked at him, her red eyes piercing, and the snarl in her voice gone, replaced with a soft tone, “{Please.}”
The pup was still far too young to know what was happening so it curiously tilted its head toward Ethan. Its red eyes stared into his, and it yapped.
“I...” Ethan blinked, about to deny.
The [Quest], Guardian of the Wild, has arrived.
“I...” He repeated, and then stopped to look at the [Quest].
~Guardian of the Wild (Uncommon)~
You have encountered a pack of magical wolves led by a gravely injured female. Through a surprising twist of fate, you understand their language through [Myriad Tongue] and learn of their plight. The female, gravely wounded by a magical attack, entrusts you with her newborn pup, Wynd. She believes you, touched by the “light” (the nature of which remains unclear), are the best hope for Wynd’s survival. Why and how, and many other questions, however, remain unclear.
Objective:
● Take care for the young wolf pup, Wynd. (Uncertain Duration)
Rewards:
● The eternal gratitude of a magical wolf pack. (Potential Ally)
● Unlocking the secrets of the “light” may grant unknown benefits. (Uncertain)
● Levels
● Skill Tokens
● A chance to get an invitation to [???]
Failure:
● Should Wynd come to harm, the wrath of these magical wolves will be swift and merciless.
● You may lose the trust of the pack, and of [???], potentially putting yourself and others at risk.
● You may lose the interest of the “light”
Would you like to accept the quest?
YES NO
So, this is what’s been coming since I arrived in this world? Are these wolves related to my arrival? Or whoever this “light” is? Why’re they injured in the first place. Does it have anything to do with that humanoid creature? I do recall Roland saying that the humanoid creature was fighting wolves. It seems likely, given these wolves’ injuries, but what happened after? Is that humanoid creature dead? If not, where did it go? Should I be worried? What if it attacks Holden?
His mind churning with multiple questions, Ethan closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Okay. I’ll take care of him.” He said, and mentally selected ‘YES’.
She stared at him for a second, then turned to the pup and licked his forehead. “{Thank you},” she said to Ethan. “{And now, I have to go.}”
Ethan’s lips parted, but she didn’t let him say it. Black tendrils of shadows enveloped her and the other wolves, then they all disappeared.
...
After Ethan entrusted the pup to Roland, who was also surprised and confused. Regardless, they all set back on their journey. The pup slept most of the way, curled up in Roland’s arm.
“What a strange encounter,” Ethan murmured.
He glanced at the wolf. It had a white coat and a black streak on his head. He was cute, though he still drooled a lot, and that was gross. However, it wasn’t hard to accept.
“Lord Theodore,” Roland said. “How were you able to have a conversation with the beasts?”
“I’m not sure,” he lied.
Roland looked at him. Ethan shrugged.

• 2 -

Back in Holden Town. The gates opened, and Ethan could see people move aside as they drove their carriages to the estate. They all looked at him with respect and bowed—more out of fear than respect, really. Theo hadn’t been a respectable fellow, but he’d certainly been one to be afraid of. This kind of reaction had taken Ethan off guard for the first time, but now, he didn’t quite care. When he entered his manor, he immediately wanted to head for the one thing he was craving—a bath.
Before that, however.
“Lord Theodore, what of the pup? Where should I put it?”
“The pup?” Ethan paused for a second, then walked and extended his arms out, “Give it to me.”
Roland was surprised but obliged and gave Ethan the young wolf, “If I may ask, why are we keeping the beast?”
Ethan made a thoughtful noise, his gaze focused on the baby wolf as the pup yelped at being given up to the stranger, but after a little while, he sniffed a little before settling in Ethan’s hold, his head finding itself a comfy. It was strange to think how quickly the creature had accepted his place there. Ethan chuckled a little, his voice becoming gentler than Roland had ever heard it as he took care to keep the wolf upright against himself.
“This is no ordinary pup.” His gaze shifted from the animal onto Roland. “That wolf, she could talk with me. I do not know how, but the fact is that she could.” Ethan gave Roland the lie he’d concocted. “She was intelligent, not a beast. And she entrusted her son to me.”
“A Beastkin?” Roland made a surprised noise. “On this part of the world?”
“Beats me,” Ethan said. “Regardless, she could talk. And I...” Ethan sighed. If he wanted to have a good life here, he needed someone he could trust in, and Roland had proved to be capable enough as well as trustworthy enough. Roland had taken care of Theo, even though the bastard was a worthless scum of a human being.
“Yes, my lord?” Roland asked.
“I got a [Quest].”
Roland’s eyes widened, his voice louder, “A [Quest]!?”
“Hush, be quiet, now, be quiet, Roland,” he said and patted the pup gently on his back, murmuring to soothe the waking animal. [Quests] were a rare phenomenon and the rewards were always worth the trouble, or so he’d gathered from Theo’s memories. He just hoped his decision wouldn’t come back to bite him in the future. “So, I will keep him, at least until she comes to claim him. Which she will.”
“My lord, you would require specialists... [Beast Trainers], I don’t believe we have many in town, only a few. Or else, a [Druid] perhaps? But finding one is not easy—”
“A [Beast Tamer] is fine. We don’t need much, just someone to take care of him.”
“Yes, my lord.”
Ethan spent the next hour in a bath.

• 3 -

The pungent smell of wood ash filled Ethan’s nostrils as he peered into the large cask. Lye, a strong alkali traditionally made from wood ash and crucial for soap-making, needed to be extracted from the ash. With a grunt, he grabbed a thick wooden paddle and plunged it into the gray mixture, stirring it vigorously. This was the beginning of the leaching process—a crucial first step in his soap-making endeavor, where lye is coaxed out of the ashes by boiling them in soft water and then allowing the water to seep through the ash.
Thus, this wasn’t just about mixing; it was about coaxing that exact lye out.
Across the room, Roland watched with a furrowed brow. “My lord,” he finally spoke, “what precisely are we engaged in here?”
Ethan straightened; wiping sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. “Patience, Roland,” he chuckled. “This is the art of soap-making. We’re separating the good stuff—the lye—from the leftover ash, like sifting gold from sand.”
Roland’s expression remained dubious, his gaze lingering on the murky concoction in the cask. “Ah, I see.”
“Yeah, once we’ve extracted it properly, it will be the foundation for our very own soap. It’ll be my very first masterpiece—gentle on the skin, fragrant, and oh-so-satisfying to use. Blight-repellent properties would be a bonus, though that still depends on Jack. He hasn’t graced us with his findings yet.”
“Indeed, my lord,” Roland replied, a hint of worry creeping into his voice. “Master Jack has been... unresponsive lately. He insists we leave him to his work and promises to report back when he has something concrete.”
“I see.”
With the leaching process nearing completion, they left the cask to settle, its contents swirling like a slow, gray storm. The next step awaited.
“Did you manage to save the fat from the recent butchering?”
“Yes, my lord, I took the liberty of asking the cook to—”
“Excellent. No time for formalities, bring it here!”
Roland scurried away, returning moments later with a large, heavy wooden tub. Inside, a mound of white fat, glistening faintly. “My lord,” Roland said. “Got all the rendered beef fat you requested,” he said, holding up the tub. “But are you certain it’s for…” he trailed off, gesturing vaguely towards the tub.
“Absolutely, Roland,” Ethan replied with a smile. “The fat needs to be rendered first, which means melting it to remove impurities. Then, we can boil it to separate the tallow, the perfect white fat for soapmaking, from the glycerin, a byproduct with its own uses. I need the white, creamy layer that forms on top, and the clear liquid underneath.”
Roland appeared to be confused regarding the terms he used, so he spent the next few minutes explaining the boiling process to Roland.
...
The next day dawned, and the routine began anew. It needed to be repeated after all. The charade of noble life continued as usual, and as the day waned, Ethan returned, Roland in tow.
“This should suffice,” Ethan declared. “The impurities have settled at the cask’s bottom. Now, we only need to collect the lye water, combine it with fat, and voila—soap!” Noticing Roland’s confusion, he offered a brief scientific explanation. “The interaction creates saponification, a chemical reaction that transforms fat into a solid surfactant.”
Roland raised an eyebrow. “That’s it?”
“Precisely,” Ethan confirmed with a grin.
The following morning, Ethan followed his usual routine, attempting to maintain focus. Yet, his steps carried him back to their quarters with a scale, a bag of oatmeal, and a water jug in tow.
Soap-making time had arrived.
For a superior tallow soap, the fat and lye mixture needed a specific ratio—which took some experimentation—to the combined weight of tallow and glycerin. Ethan meticulously measured and combined the ingredients, allowing the mixture time to undergo saponification, gradually forming a solid bar of soap.
Once the reaction finished, he introduced the scentless oatmeal. Its purpose was threefold: to provide a gentle scrub, enhance the lather, and leave the skin feeling soft—pure luxury. Finally, a few drops of a floral scent, along with the vibrant red dye extracted from a flower’s petals, were incorporated. With a final stir, the mixture was poured into a cake pan lined with wax paper.
Given the limitations of their tools, Ethan had essentially performed a rudimentary form of alchemy to create this supposed pinnacle of soap. He had never really been much interested in learning soap-making, but he thanked his science teacher sincerely. Had it not been for her enthusiasm, Ethan wouldn’t have been able to make soap today.
A few hours later, Ethan admired the beautiful pink soap atop his hand.
“Finally,” he said with a smile.
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Walking with my coworker downtown, about 10 feet ahead of us is a young couple and their infant in a baby carriage. We're walking and talking and see the boomer come up the cross street after walk sign comes on. He acts like he is super inportant as they all do so we get out of his way so he can pass. He walks past us and as he walks past the couple, spits out a massive black wad of gross tobacco water and it lands basically RIGHT on the wheels of the baby carriage of the couple in front of us. Can see where it lands on the concrete of the sidewalk so like super close to the baby.
I can see the husband look at the boomer and the old shit just gives a smug superior "what you gonna do about it?" look and keeps walking and chewing, loudly of course. The parents are disturbed and we exchange glances but all just keep walking.
A. Let's hope chewing tobacco is on its way out. Disgusting disgusting thing.
B. What the fuck is wrong with them. The world is their trash can. And they show zero remorse.

Hello!
This is not a dig at Polin shippers. The building blocks of a romance every bit as good as the other seasons is there, but I feel the assembly and design leave much to be desired. Yes, they have a different vibe as pre existing friends and we've seen them around for 2 seasons already. But there are a few vital missing pieces from the sucessful formula.
1) Not enough time spent on them and their story Compare this to season 1. Events / storyline that are main couple focused vs not and time spent on them. Featherington money problems (which leads to sub stories of Mondrich fix, Phillipa and Finch and technically Marina) Marinas whole storyline (leads to unofficial diamond, pregnancy, Colin the Sir Phillip) , Anthony and Sienna, Whistledown / Queen / Eloise, Benedict's parties ... and I think that's it.
So 5 non couple stories taking up maybe 2 out of 8 hours of screen time.
Compare this to the becoming the diamond, the obvious set up, Anthonys disapproval, fake relationship, Berbrook, the prince, the duel, Cressidas threats, the Queens denial, understanding marital love, becoming a duchess, Simons insecurity, the baby scandal and reconciliation.
So 14 storybeats / subplots. 75% of the season is something directly relating to the couple.
Season 3 non Polin storylines: Mondrich becoming nobles, adjusting to the rules, wanting to run the club.
Cressida befriending Eloise, and making her a better person by calling her out on her crap,, her parents pressure, courting Lord Debling
Francesca being the Sparkler. Being uncomfortable with attention. Being set up by the Queen. Being charmed and kinda but not actually rejected by Earl Sinclair, being gifted the music and rejecting the Marquess
Benedict's latest romance. Benedict not wanting to court but accidentally looking like he does.
Kate and Anthony adjusting to their roles and living with the family. Deciding to keep violet on.
Violet adjusting her style with her daughters on the marriage mart. Violet meeting a new man.
The featheringtons on notice re the forged documents. The sisters baby making attempts.
Lady Danburys tension with her brother.
So even if we count the main players that's 8 subplots.
With Polin the points are: confronted about his statement last season. Lambasting Colin in Whistledown, Doing lessons and being bad at flirting. Getting found out. The kiss. Starting to romance Debling. The balloon incident. Deblings courting and getting permission, Colin interrupting the dance, he carriage.
Maybe 2 hours out of 4 with half of Pens romantic time being with Debling. That's 50% between the main story and the side stories. And again 50% of Pens romance time is with Debling so like 25% screen time is the main couple.
2) When one is looking at the other, the other isn't aware of it. We've had lingering looks, almost hand touches in intense moments, sexual / romantic tension overload in dances and the couple unable to keep their eyes off the other in previous seasons. A shared romantic tension.
In Polin, Penelope has given up on him and doesn't look at Colin at ALL. And now all he can do is stare from across a room and she's completely unaware or even sneaking a glance his way.
It ruins the mutual attraction because while we KNOW she's always had feelings for Colin, it feels like, legitimately, Debling is better option for romantic tension.
That's a failing on the script and directors, not the actors. They're literally building all the tension between Penelope and Debling.
I mean FFS, the scene where she's eating something and Colin is staring. How hard would it be for him to pretend there was something and brush it away? They could have made it so another patron was buying something so the shop keep and customer weren't looking. Had Penelope, flush and slightly tremble under his touch, a flash of the kiss playing on screen, his eyes smouldering for a second before Penelope looks down and steps back.

For the past ten years, the Capital have been reveling in the universally acclaimed Hunger Games phenomenon known as the Golden Victor era. This era gave the Capital the most popular and iconic victors that the history books declared as the epitome of what being a champion of Panem was all about. The Capital was especially surprised that it lasted as it had, starting with Jase Toliver of the 11th Hunger Games representing District 3 to the most recent iconic entry in the lineup Laika Brown representing District 12. Head Gamemakers Capricorn Luther and Balthazar Grimstone were to thank for such incredible games and were awarded presidential medals of honor by President Rain himself. Now that Grimstone’s five year contract had expired, it was time to pass the torch to the new Head Gamemaker Priscilla Cardew. Capital citizens kept their fingers crossed that she would deliver their next Golden Victor.
Laika Brown had been enjoying great success studying to become a geologist while her mentor and fellow victor Andrew “Corpse” Beckford (victor of the 10th Hunger Games) kept her home orphanage up and running. She continued to visit the retirement home she formerly worked at and would continually talk to Candace Freeman (victor of the 4th Hunger Games) on the phone. A couple months after erecting a statue of her father in Plasma Square, she was called to participate in the reaping tour for the 21st Hunger Games. Whenever she wasn’t obligated to tour the districts and pull names out of a bowl, she was found in the hoverjet lounge area pouring over log books, schematics, and safety manuals for the District 12 oil reserves and gold mines. The first stop at her home district was the most stressful after reaping two twelve year olds named Calsie and Reese (12). The only other eventful reaping was in District 2 after everyone had to see Atlanta (2)’s reaction to her ex boyfriend Cicero (2) winning the reaping games and title of male tribute. Atlanta demanded a retrial as she didn’t want to fight alongside him, but Daria Wood (victor of the 1st Hunger Games) put a stop to her whining by pinching her ear and whispering something indiscernible.
After a while, Laika arrived at her third to last district: District 11. She was enamored by the beautiful colors of the flowers and various fruits surrounding her but became enveloped by the thick humidity of the rainforest. Mayor Recife and the district's only victor Savannah Pickett (victor of the 6th Hunger Games) greeted her and gave her a tour. Despite the heavy humidity, Laika enjoyed her tour and had the opportunity to sample a newly brewed chocolate with chili peppers. Laika used some of her victor’s money to buy chocolates, coffee, and exotic fruits, pleasing Savannah when she declared the mango as her favorite. Laika had a lunch of arapaima filet and fruit salad at Mayor Recife’s office. She noticed Savannah’s stern expression and advised herself not to speak to her. Eventually, she was ushered to the reaping stage and was nervous. The despondent green clad youth didn’t help and she gave a rushed victor’s speech. Mayor Recife instructed her to choose a name from the female reaping bowl. Laika walked over and plucked a name from the top. She unfolded the paper and read the name of seventeen year old Melonie Sanchez.
A few murmurs and youths breathing out in relief were heard while the cameras searched for the district’s new female champion. Some of the children began whispering to themselves upon hearing Melonie’s name, insinuating they were aware of her. The cameras found a girl with light skin, green eyes, and brown hair who was trembling and wiping away tears. As the peacekeepers escorted her to the stage, Artemis was given the background notes. Melonie was the third of five children who all worked in the coffee industry. Melonie was usually found picking coffee from the fields and delivering the baskets to the grinding machines. On her off days, she was a substitute teacher at the preschool. Artemis checked the neighborhood gossip and discovered Melonie was popular in school and many boys swooned over her. Artemis said she should’ve known this as she was one of the few youths with makeup. Melonie sheepishly shook Laika’s hand before being shoved into her place on stage when hesitating. Laika was urged to continue and stepped closer to the male reaping bowl. After fishing through the bowl, she chose a crumpled piece of paper. It read the name of sixteen year old Martin Bogota.
The camera panned through the sixteen year old section trying to find this year's male tribute. Before anyone assumed he somehow ditched the reaping, a short boy with coconut brown skin and face plagued with acne stepped out into the aisle. His greasy curly hair rested on top of a pair of thick squared glasses and his open mouth gape revealed crooked teeth. His ears looked as if they were too big for his head as they seemingly reached out to catch every sound around him. His only desirable feature was a small button nose but unfortunately that couldn't save anything. As he walked, a creaking noise drove attention to the cherry on top of his unfortunate appearance: a barebones metallic prosthetic leg attached to his right that seemed ever so slightly too short compared to his regular leg. Him walking down the aisle showed he was still capable of walking albeit with a limp. The notes Luther pulled up revealed that he was the second youngest of five and a lowly fruit washer. Artemis rudely said, “Clearly he didn’t use that water to wash himself.” Artemis was curious as to how he lost his leg but Luther was disappointed in her hygiene comments and said she could wait. Martin hobbled over to the stage trying to ignore Savannah’s look of pity and resignation. He shook Laika’s hand and silently moved to the other side of the stage. Mayor Recife hesitantly congratulated this year’s tributes and dismissed them to the tiny town hall.
Melonie was visited by her parents, siblings, and her boyfriend Pablo. Melonie was a nervous wreck. She was scared of dying and didn’t want to leave her family. Her parents comforted her and told her that Savannah was a great teacher. Pablo took it a step up and reminded her of how skilled and beautiful she was. He pleaded with her to utilize the trade skills and gave her permission to “flaunt her beauty” to gain sponsors. Melonie was ripped from a kiss by the peacekeepers and sent to the hoverjet. As for Martin, his parents didn’t have many words of encouragement. Due to his disability, they felt his death was inevitable but they didn’t have to say this out loud. However, his parents wouldn’t let him talk down on himself and tried to assure him he was strong. His younger sister Petal innocently said that he could get a new leg if he won. Martin hugged her and embraced his family one last time, thanking them for everything. He was wrenched from their embrace and dragged to the hoverjet.
Melonie was on the couch in the lounge area lamenting over her situation. Her face was buried in a throw pillow so she didn’t notice Martin entering the room. Martin limped towards the bar wanting a drink. He nearly tripped over a chair which made enough noise to capture Melonie’s attention. She rushed over and offered to help him but he insisted he caught himself. He took a proper seat at the bar and grabbed a bottle of straight tequila. Melonie wanted to discuss potential strategies for them to gain sponsors but Martin thought it was pointless for him. He cemented his statement by gesturing to his acne riddled face and his prosthetic. He pointed out how easy it would be for her since she was beautiful and to not waste time on him. A voice from behind him said, “Don’t sell yourself short. There’s more to a person than looks.”
The voice belonged to their mentor and District 11’s sole victor Savannah Pickett. She grabbed the bottle from Martin and inspected his metal leg. Wordlessly, she fidgeted with some of the screws and managed to extend the bottom bar a smidge while Melonie watched in awe. When ordered to stand, Martin was amazed to see his legs were now even length. As he tested them out, Melonie commented how she knew about her company Hamaguchi Prosthetics but wasn’t aware she had mechanicals skills. Savannah said her fallen ally Arisu’s family taught her. She beckoned Martin to the dining table while avoxes wheeled in the lunch trays. Savannah gave her mentees a few minutes to piggishly fill their stomachs. Melonie was confused as her parents always lectured her about manners. Savannah claimed to understand the starvation many citizens had to endure, making a snide comment on how much produce the Capital takes. However, she reverted to the standard rundown of the pregames events.
Savannah explained the importance of sponsors and used the sponsors she received in her games as examples. Melonie revealed her boyfriend gave her permission to flaunt her body to arouse viewers and wondered if this could work. Savannah rolled her eyes and didn’t hold back how disgusting she viewed it but admitted it would work in her favor. She went on to ask what skills she had. Melonie had some muscle from carrying the coffee baskets. She then skimmed through her substitute teaching job. Savannah said it was a start and said, “If you could deal with toddlers then the fufu Capitalites should be a walk in the park.” When asked about weapons, Melonie’s face fell as she didn’t use blades for her job. She did mention playing camogie during the short recess but not enough to go by. Savannah’s eyebrows perked upon hearing this and said she could help her master the camogie. Savannah directed the same questions to Martin.
Martin told Savannah that there wasn't much to say as he had zero skills in all categories. He added that with only a week until the games, he probably won’t build enough skill to last five seconds. Offended, Savannah told him not to say such things about himself and that she was sure that they could find something. She asked him what he liked to do when he wasn't working. Martin shrugged and admitted most of the time he just sits by himself doing nothing or sleeping since his disability rendered him useless in every extracurricular activity. On the occasion one of his parents forced him out of the house “to get some fresh air”, he would observe the camogie games down by the pitch and sometimes keep track of the points scored.
Savannah didn’t want to argue and thought it was better than nothing. She declared that during the week he can try out new skills and see what fitted him. She offered to show her mentees some hurling skills in the next carriage over. Melonie immediately accepted but Martin asked if he could stay and watch previous games recordings instead. Savannah agreed but insisted he promise to take part in future parts of training.
Savannah took Melonie in the training carriage. Inside was a camogie simulator to test the drive. Melonie immediately went to work and practiced her drive. She was shaky at first but after some practice and a few pointers from Savannah, Melonie was able to drive the sliotar up to eighty yards. Savannah mentioned reading her file and wondered why she volunteer tutored with kids when she could have seized another work opportunity. Melonie said her parents and two older siblings were almost never home so she had to raise her younger siblings herself. They were twins and were in the same preschool class, so Melonie volunteered so she could keep watch over them. Savannah knew how she felt since one of her brothers just had a baby. She grumbled over how there were almost no “rich” people in District 11 besides herself and wished the Capital let them keep some of their supply. Melonie shrugged and chalked it up to their products being that good.
As the two girls returned, Martin was just finishing watching Savannah’s games. Martin had several notes dedicated to her allies Pedro and Arisu. Savannah tried to ignore the screen and read Martin’s notes. Martin admitted that despite the low hopes, he thought seeing the only two handicapped tributes would give him ideas. Melonie asked if he had any but Martin shook his head. He had a prosthetic leg while Pedro and Arisu had missing hands, so there wasn’t much comparison. Melonie thought that Arisu being the runner up had to amount to something and buttering up the Capital could get him a similarly upgraded prosthetic. Savannah admitted she had a point but Martin still had no hope. He shouted that Melonie was beautiful and skilled while he was ugly and didn’t amount to anything more than washing papayas. He stormed out of the room. Savannah sighed and said she knew all too well how he felt. She dismissed Melonie to her quarters for a short nap before they arrived in the Capital.
The Capital had become visible and the tributes were awake to marvel at the extravagant architecture. As the train pulled into the train station, Melonie was preparing herself while Martin was staring at the plethora of different styles of hair and makeup. Savannah pulled him from the window and gave him a pep talk. Martin promised to at least try and make a good impression despite his imperfections, gesturing to his face and showing off his crooked teeth. Melonie wasn’t ready to flaunt anything so she considered starting with a “girl next door” act, claiming to get the phrase from a book. Savannah opened the doors and introduced her tributes to the crowd of Capital citizens. Despite having the third lowest turnaround this year behind Districts 9 and 6 respectively, District 11 had one of the most positively received first impressions of the year. This was mostly in part to Melonie’s charisma and stunning good looks. She struck a variety of poses for the many cameras surrounding her. One of the photographers was a talent scout for the Pristine Paragon, a popular Capital fashion line. He said that if she won, she should call him and become a model for them. He even revealed that Corpse Beckford (victor of the 10th Hunger Games) had made a few of their magazines. Melonie appreciated the offer and promised to accept if he sponsored her.
Meanwhile, Martin wasn’t seen by many but those that did marveled at his prosthetic. Martin gave a retelling of Savannah fixing it and exaggerated the dizziness of walking in circles while testing it. A Capital woman asked why he couldn’t have simply bought a Hamaguchi upgrade himself. Martin sternly said he was dirt poor and “couldn’t afford dental let alone a new leg”. Some of the attendees laughed when he showed his teeth after saying this. Another claimed he could get new teeth if he won but Martin had already stomped away. Savannah ushered her tributes into the limousine after being bombarded with her fans.
The entourage arrived at the accommodation building in record time. Waiting by the elevator was the new stylist Demeter Stallings. Savannah wondered what happened to Hanson Jollyberry, her old stylist, which Demeter claimed he retired after winning a hefty prize at the Silver Coin, one of the Capital’s most popular casinos. The four arrived at the eleventh floor and Demeter immediately got to work. Melonie rushed to the bathroom while Martin had his measurements done. Demeter asked about the acne and offered to give him a special cream. Martin said anything was better than coconut oil. Demeter pulled out a tin of yellow cream and applied it to his face. Martin winced as his face turned red and began to burn. After a moment, Demeter gave him a mirror. Martin was taken aback by the results. Every pimple, acne scar, and blackhead was completely eradicated and left nothing but pure smooth skin. Melonie returned in time to see the finished result and complemented his new complexion. Martin was in stunned silence while Demeter finished up the measurements. She decided to dress Martin as a peach tree while Melonie would be covered in strawberry vines. Melonie rearranged all the vines Demeter placed on her to make it look almost like a flowing robe while Martin was painted to look like a tree. Savannah was not so approving of the very basic costumes until Demeter revealed the fruits to be real.
The parade was the opportunity for all Capital citizens to get a good look at this year’s tributes. Savannah ushered her tributes through the tunnel and towards their chariot. Melonie and Martin were intimidated by the muscular career tributes who were already plotting a potential alliance. After they walked past the District 3 chariot, Melonie questioned if they would make ideal allies. Savannah said that she would have to wait until training to be certain of their usefulness. Martin sarcastically suggested trying for the careers while she was at it. Melonie thought that was something to consider and thanked him for the idea. Martin tried to ignore the stares from other tributes, all mostly staring at his leg. He in particular didn’t enjoy the smirk Genera (5) was sporting but ignored her nonetheless. After arriving at their chariot, Demeter gave their outfits a final inspection and offered tips. Savannah stepped away to talk with previous year’s victor Laika Brown when she beckoned her over to ask for any updates on Jansen Toliver. Martin wouldn’t stop brushing his clean face and Melonie chuckled over it. Martin thought he would have to live with it for all his life and wondered why the special cream wasn’t available to the districts. Melonie thought it was still in the experimental phase but Demeter shook her head. Martin thought it unfair and considered it another example of the Capital’s cruelty. Melonie whispered to him not to let this affect his potential for sponsors. Savannah returned and wished them luck as the chariots pulled forward.
The chariots rolled out and the tributes became visible to the audience. Violet and Merde (1) wowed the audience with their designer clothes and were given extra points for eviscerating a Barron Moriarty ragdoll tossed to them by the audience. District 2 nearly ruined their chances when Cicero (2) nearly nudged Atlanta (2) off the chariot and received a slap in response, but an impromptu kiss brought them back in good graces. District 5 was a big surprise as Genera and Simmer (5) made excellent use of their dynamite costumes which exploded into confetti. In an unusual turn of events, both Heather and Bergen (6) were asleep in their chariot which greatly disappointed Mutt (fangroup of weakest tributes) fans yet was ironically humorous since their costumes were alcohol bottles.
After the mediocre lion costumes from District 10, District 11 was ready to shine. Melonie charmed the entire Capital with big smiles and free strawberries from her vines costume. After nearly all of the strawberries were gone, she tore off some of the vines and the outfit became more revealing, barely concealing her private parts. Melonie used this to slowly eat the last of the strawberries while seductively posing for the camera. Martin didn’t put much effort in his performance outside of throwing his peaches, disregarding whether audience members caught them or not. Suddenly, one purple braided citizen threw his peach back at Martin and it struck his face. Martin nearly toppled into the oblivious Melonie and angrily searched for the culprit. He yelled, “What’s the matter perra pequeña? My peach not sweet enough for ya?” He continued to hurl Spanish curse words at the culprit and soon began directing them to the audience who was laughing at him. At the end of the parade, the title of Blanco Fashion Magazine’s Best Dressed was awarded to District 5 for their creative dynamite costumes.
Back at the apartment, Savannah admitted the two did surprisingly well. Through gritted teeth, she told Melonie her striptease was good quick thinking. She criticized Martin’s attitude and warned him of the potential haters. Martin didn’t seem to care at first until Savannah revealed the post-parade comments. Despite the immediate amusement of the audience, later comments criticized his attitude and chalked it up to “short man syndrome”. The nicknames began flowing in, such as “Pegleg Pedro” and “Lanky and Skanky”. Melonie was horrified by the cyber bullying and wanted Savannah to turn it off. Savannah instead filtered the comments to ones about Melonie. The Capital seemed to adore Melonie and she was already one of the most popular tributes. Melonie suggested to Martin he could stick with her so the positive reception would eventually rub off on him. Martin refused to please the people who got off on ridiculing him but Savannah warned him of the consequences. She recalled the travesties Tris Plummer (victor of the 8th Hunger Games) had to endure being targeted by the gamemakers and her treatment by the Capital after she survived. Savannah warned him that he would be next if he kept it up. Martin sighed and apologized. Melonie hugged him and promised to be by his side the entire time. Martin retired to his room. Melonie asked Savannah if he had any chance of winning. Savannah couldn’t say as he reminded her of herself during her games. Melonie promised to keep an eye on him. She then asked about her chances. Savannah said that she was one of the best mentees she ever had and would be over the moon if either of them won.

I have tried googling and looking up the specific airline policies but any and all advice is welcome as this is our first trip on a plane with a baby ever. Will be on our lap.
Carriage advice Crib advice Sun/pool advice Nap advice Time of day to retire to room for the night ? Eating advice (bringing powder formula and packages of puree foods). To feed any solids there or not risk it? Bathing advice Things to pack ?? Things you wish you would have packed and didn’t think of ? Anything on this list I made that I’m not thinking of ?
I feel very nervous. But I am sure it will be fine

Victaria

^{En route to Maidenpool, Second Month of 276 AC}
While Victaria was not a woman quite capable of admitting openly her misgivings--most especially those she was at least in part responsible for--her heart was laden with regret as the carriage had crest through the portcullis of Stone Hedge. Longing not for the belongings she would leave behind, but the arguments that had been cast in bronze; frozen in a time when they had barely begun, malleable and destined to be brought to shine again--if Jonos' threats to refusing entry upon her return were as full of hot air as Victaria presumed them to be. Lest he wish the stalls of his stable to remain vacant, she had seethed, resolving there and then that she would not relent to her husband's declaration of denied entry until he formally recanted it. The notion that the Lord Bracken might beg forgiveness from her an outlandish fantasy yet one that had stoked at the cinders whenever her anger was to be waylaid.
It had been no question in her mind, the bundling of her babes to be swept up in her retreat. While Jons had made an admirable show in defense of his daughter's honour in Castamere when Victaria's own courage had been frail, on cusp of fracture, such a display did not equate to an able over seer. She did not think so poorly of her husband that he would willfully mistreat Bethany. There were able servants aplenty to ensure that the girl need never go without the necessities yet the distance in his displeasure at having sired a daughter had been insipid in their every interaction. Where there could be some leeway to pawn off the little ones to wet nurses when them were incapable of conversation, at her age, Bethany was not only in need of attention but desperate for it. The task was ill suited to her husband on back of his aloofness, and truthfully Victaria had hardly entertained the thought of leaving Bethany behind when her venture to Maidenpool had been one presumed to be sanctioned. Now that it had been made such a point of contention it had been not to her own quarters she had gone in her exile but to those belonging to Bethany. With the aid of a servant she had selected a swath of garments to last them on the road while packing the rest of the space personally with dolls and trinkets that were to her daughter's delight.
The process of preparing for departure was repeated in the quarters belonging to baby Benedict. Barely weaned from the breast, there was no sense in abandoning the boy when his elder sister was already accounted for. All the more in that his possessions were few. The great bulk of them inherited from Rolfy when he had been so small and familiar in his mother's hand. She balanced the boy at her hip as she made her egress to the bailey to ensure the possessions of her children were accounted for as they were loaded within the carriage, having eschewed a change of clothes for the haste it would lend in her departure when her want was to be well away from the suffocating atmosphere of Stone Hedge by sundown. Victaria entrusting that the servants had arranged the essentials of her own wardrobe on her behalf did not waste any seconds more in rifling through, second guessing their choices anymore than she would her own.
Within the wheelhouse she settled Benedict in a blanket, uncertain if they would encounter an inn before it became necessary for the men of her escort to pitch their own pavilion. But the boy was like to nap intermittently and if he was to drift, Victaria would arrange it be done in relative comfort. Bethany by contrast did require direct engagement to distract her, as the surroundings of trees passing by the window began to blend into the mundane. She had her questions, of course, nobles did not up and decide to depart in an instant as her mother had done and for all her attempts, Victaria was not wholly successful in stifling her anger. Knowing that so soon as the fight in her subsided the tears would tremble to fall, emboldened only that they would not be for Jonos to see.
This suffering she held in silence, explaining, "Your auntie Vera is to be wed," she said settling Betha beside her, "It has all been quite abrupt of her, she must worry for the coming winter and aims to swear her oaths before snow's first fall. She has asked us not only to share in her day, but aid in its preparation. A task any sister would relish."
She rest her chin atop her daughter's head, "Just as your brothers will partake for your sake, when it is your turn."
Few as the leagues were between Stone Hedge and the burgeoning city of the Riverlands the wind of the road south to a bridge south of the trident lengthened the journey. All while Victaria was left to stare wistfully across the river fork to await their crossing, nearer to territory where someone who loved her awaited. When the weather was not abhorrent with woeful gales or an excess of moisture, it was along the water she would break to allow her little ones opportunities to stretch their legs. She did not let them wade nearer to the bank unattended though she did guide Bethany with her to its edge with their hands adjoined, to dip their toes within the water before the chill had set fully into temperatures frigid and unforgiving.
They slowed at taverns and inns where a decent night's rest was all but assured and a hot meal to send one on their way to resting. These establishments a bit rustic by Victaria's tastes but endured for the comfort of her children and that the wilds offered few in comparison. It was perhaps simply stones stacked high that she did yearn for, high walls to surround her as they did her heart. Stretching ever higher with each roll of the carriage's wheel which bore them further from the fief belonging to the Lord Bracken.
Before they could catch a distinct sight of the city proper, the Bay of Crabs gleamed upon the horizon and the settlement hugging its shore was but a blip in the distance. Encouraging Bethany to regard their approach by implying that while no princess resided within the castle they were attending that her auntie Vera was almost a fable herself in beauty and that someday she would preside over all of Maidenpool, "Just as I have done in Stone Hedge with your Lord Father."
. . .
"You're... you were not expected so soon," despite that her sister had been residing within the walls of Maidenpool, in comparison to Victaria, Vera looked downright disheveled. There was a flush to her, plain of dress and with her locks hanging loose looking as if they were in need of brushing. Brought upon perhaps by a haste to reach the courtyard where the Lady Bracken and her babes were disembarking their carriage.
"Oh?" she queried, "Was that not your raven come roost, begging the wisdom of your pompous sister?"
Vera was rapidly approaching a tone not dissimilar to the fiery hue of her hair, that which Victaria had ever envied of her. Beholden herself to the blonde hue of their mother's bloodline in its stead. What a contrast that will cut to lambswool, the thought struck and in its accompaniment a score of envy, I was as good as lost in white during a winter's wedding.
"It was not mine if the scrawl might imply insult," Vera insisted with a degree of urgency, as if afraid the accusation the Lady Bracken implied in teasing had been one sincerely felt. While they were kin, so too would they be peers when the wedding was in its commencement; Vera had been on the wrong end of Victaria's ire enough when they were children that she had no desire to earn that of the Lady Bracken either.
Ushering the children ahead of her toward the keep proper, "A jest, Vera," she answered, "If our arrival is a burden to you it would not trouble us terribly to turn back for Stone Hedge until the wedding."
"No, no," she waved her hands in assurance, which was to say frantic, "It is of no quarrel, I assure you. We lived a stone's throw from one another when I was in Harrenhal and I hardly saw you in a decade... that you would answer my summons so promptly is touching, Victaria. Truly."
"You never sent a raven from Harrenhal," it was a statement more than a retort, a certain unkindness in its speaking. But the barb was the kind that Vera would need grow accustomed to deflecting.
Vera paused, peering pensively at her sister, "Nor in Harrenhal did I receive one."
"Ah," the amusement that arose in Victaria was not mocking, nor the laugh to adjoin it, "So you have been shaped in the shadow of the Lady Shella after all. That is well, I worried for you. Even the bravest of women have been known to buckle as they are brought to alter as bride, or afterward beneath the whims of their husband."
"Lord Bryan has given no cause for concern."
Yet.
Victaria did not let the word slink past her teeth. It was not right to speak ill of her Lord Husband no matter their disputes, not even in the confidence of family when Vera had highlighted already the estrangement they shared. That was a war her own to wage. And not one that warranted counsel when her sister had confessed an excess of trepidation surrounding her nuptials already, "Then let us concern ourselves with his bride, instead," she said, "Once I have seen my babes settled I should like to speak to the steward aiding in your wedding arrangements. Reluctant as you have been to wed before the realm at large should be no excuse to stifle the splendor you are deserving of. There is life to autumn, an array of colour we must take full advantage of as no sister of mine will have her wedding remembered as little better than a harvest feast at cusp of winter's coming."

UPDATE (for anyone interested) - We got a plumber out yesterday, looks like the problem is with the gas valve, however the tank is not installed correctly or to code so we are just replacing it anyway. It’s 6 years old, so we could probably patch it up for a few more years, but I just don’t trust most of the “improvements” made by the former owner, and we have a plumber ready and willing to do the work for $1200 ($600 for the new water heater - we are purchasing this ourselves with his approval, and $600 for the labor, which is more than worth it for me considering the awkwardness to even get into the space). Thank you all for your help! I’ll add some pics in the comments for anyone who is interested.
We purchased a house last year that included a rental ADU. The ADU was rented when we purchased the property and the tenants have stayed ever since.
One thing they have reported is that their water heater pilot light goes out semi-frequently. I can think of at least a half dozen occasions, and I know there have been more they have not reported to us. Services in our very small town are limited, so I’m trying to figure out the best course of action while waiting the 6+ weeks for a plumber to stop by - is this a problem that is typically fixable, or is this an instance where it’s better to just start over with a new water heater? I have no idea how old the current unit is or really any information about it at all.
Additional information, if it’s helpful - the ADU is a 100+ year old carriage house conversion. The house sits basically right on the property line, and the water heater is housed in a little shed thing that is attached to the side of the house against the fence. The neighbor on that side is a renter (have never met or spoken to the owner) with aggressive dogs and feral children. I mention this all because working on the water heater is difficult, but replacing it may not be possible without taking down the fence.
We do share some utilities with the ADU (trash, water, sewer, electric), which are all included with the rent. Gas is separate though, in the tenants name. Ideally, if I am replacing it, I would prefer to replace with electric, but would love any feedback from the experts here on gas vs electric for cost and reliability.
Thank you for any help! We really love our tenants and want them to stay so I want to do right by them. They have a baby and I hate that this is impacting them, we should not have waited this long to do something about it but it really seemed just kind of random and easily fixed at first.

Do you Think She Gets “IT”?