There was magic, once.
When everything in the world seemed like something new, when memories yet lived. There was that… chill of excitement. You knew it was that mysterious magic, you could feel it flowing like electricity in the air around you. A warmth; a comfort. It was a rhythm—a melody, where each note resonated through your bones, leaving you wanting more.
There are eight senses, you know. Everyone knows the first five—Touch, Taste, Sight, Sound, and Smell—the innate guiding forces built for the spacial axis, but nobody ever gives the same import to the pair relating to the chronal axis: consciousness and memory. Present and past, respectively [thelastonehasnoname].
Let your fear become focus. Focus, sensation, instinct. Wild; brimming with light. White hot potential condensed to a single point of countless echoing infinities, looping back into you.
The Sliver was a place like none other. A kaleidoscopic tunnel of fractures, like the throat of an immeasurable crystal beast, painted in a range of sparkling purples and pinks by some unseen light source. It called to my soul with a powerful vibration, begging me to explore every inch of its majestic and terrifying unknown… to take it all within myself. I tore through the veil.
Up. I have to go higher, have to push harder, further. There is purpose in the thrill, I feel it in my soul. Write more! I scream. My mind goes blank. [keepgoing] I close my eyes, breathe deep, feel the chill shoot through me.
I look within: A dark sphere begins to crack, spewing forth light. I feel I should cry, yet no tears fall. Instead, I am filled with energy. A cold, ambivalent flame of a thousand mirrored reflections burns inside me. My skin begins to glow bright white from within, but suddenly disperses in an outward pulse. Then again. Again; again. [totherhythym] I lose myself, then return, then fade.
A reminder. A boundary. My eyes flutter open.
The storm of anxiety always seems to cloud my thoughts, yet it is in the eye of the storm where I find my head is the most clear. I dream of a beautiful golden supernova [waitturnaround]. A familiar voice calls to me from long ago: Do not force your mind to calm, let your body become the calm, and the rest of you shall follow by instinct. Ringing. Ringing. Endless ringing.
Suddenly, I am flying. Lifted into the sky by wings of golden light. Wonder and awe consume every shadow of doubt, and I am free for approximately three to five minutes. I understand; I see the path.
Reality sets in. I sit again in deafening silence, and the feeling is gone. Nothing feels the same anymore. I could listen again, but with diminishing returns. The feeling is gone. That place is gone [thatplacewasneverreal].
I see thousands upon thousands of distant flickering candles. They split before me, forming speckled walls of light at my sides, leaving only darkness before me. Calling; calling. I hear the calls of the dark. Whispers and ringing. I see a single radiant sphere of blue.
Suddenly, I am frozen in the fear of stagnancy; sharpened to a point. The me who is writing these words will die. I realize they will never see the light of tomorrow, forever trapped in the limbo of those “yesterday thoughts” which once defined them as me. Yet, I will continue on, the visage of the past left forgotten in the annals of a scattered subconscious. Now is the envy of all of the dead.

Resolution! To that lil' cliffhanger I left off on last time. Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoy! : )
Move?
Don’t move?
Run?
Scream?
Gareth didn’t know what to do. He suddenly realized that that the forest around him had gone very quiet. In fact the only sounds were the burbling river and the crack-hiss of the open fire.
Oh Lumin, quiet…
Understanding bloomed. Quiet was bad because the life that’s evolved in this environment can easily recognize a threat and go into hiding. The information shot through his mind at a million miles an hour, not that it was much use anymore.
The creature seemed poised to strike but sat as still as he was. What was it doing? It had him dead to rights. The ambush was perfect. There was nothing he could do. He certainly wasn’t faster than it. He had no means of fighting it off. Even his biosuit would do little against such sharp teeth. At most it would buy him a few more seconds of agony.
Pen.
His companion came to mind in a flash. Perhaps he should scream. Fleeting was the hope of her saving his life, again. More than that he thought of her own safety. If shouting wouldn’t save his own life, he could at least warn her of the danger. He might give her the advantage of not being ambushed.
Its eyes moved, then its ears. The glowing spheres shot upward, locking onto something behind Gareth. Its ears twitched, aligning to more perfectly take in sound from wherever its eyes were peering.
A voice, as beautiful a voice as he ever did hear, came from behind him. Pen’s voice. She was closer to the fire than to him but still only about fifteen or twenty feet away.
“Look it in the eye. Don’t shake or yell. Just look it in the eye and back away slowly. Don’t turn. Don’t run. Move slowly and deliberately.”
How am I supposed to see where I’m going? What if I fall? Does it even recognize my eyes as eyes? What…
Gareth silenced the questions and did as he was instructed. He magnetized his gaze onto it praying for kind dawns. Slowly he tore his body from its frozen state and began to move. It was awkward. His legs weren’t built for such movement but he managed.
The creature’s eyes shot back to him. White hot fear ripped through him. The urge to freeze again was as intense as anything he’d ever felt but he forced it down, overwriting instinct with logic. Any field has its experts. In situations that deal with said field, you listen to the expert. Specialization. Pen was the expert in this field. Do what she says.
It twitched forward, teeth bared.
“AY!” Pen roared so loud it almost hurt.
The creature jumped back. Its attention shot back to Pen. Gareth kept backing up. Ten feet to where she’d originally been but she’d moved forward. She was right behind him now. A graceful, reassuring hand came to rest on where a shoulder might have been had he had one. He brought a hand of his own up to hers, an attempt to reinforce his increasingly shaking legs.
The thing still sat poised and ready. Watching them. Its glowing eyes darted between them.
“Uhm what now.” Gareth whispered.
“Behind. Me.”
Without breaking her locked gaze on the wolf, she used her hand to push him gently but firmly around her right side. She took another step to position herself directly between them.
“Back. Slowly. Same as before.”
Gareth acquiesced and matched her pace as they both began slowly moving back towards the fire. He noticed he could feel her heartbeat through her wrist. It drummed a rapid but rhythmic tempo against his hand.
A few steps went without movement from the beast but suddenly it started forward. Immediately Pen jolted a bluff forward as she let out another hard and quick yell.
“AY!!”
It twitched back. Its head went down with its front paws and hind legs cocked ready to respond to an attack that never came.
Pen then continued to back the two of them up slowly. Step by step until she came to a stop just within the light of the fire.
“Wait.”
Its reflexive poise had relaxed but it still eyed them, though it made no attempt to close the distance. Its glossy eyes still glowed with reflected firelight.
“What-”
“Just keep watching it.”
The wolf started to move, not forward but to the side. It lead with its head which, again, came low to the ground but its gaze never left them. Its ears twitched around for any hint of sound as it started to circle to its left.
Gareth followed Pen’s lead as she clearly turned her entire body to match its movement. It started to turn and circle back the way it had come. Again, Pen followed it. Gareth spared a second to glance at her face. He was of two minds on what he saw. Partly surprised and partly not at the cold steely stare she was levying on the creature. She almost imparted a tangible weight with just her gaze and the wolf seemingly sensed it. The two hadn’t broken their locked eyes for some time now but as the wolf reached a position back nearer to the berry bush it stopped suddenly. An ear twitched, then twitched again. It still held its gaze, but its head came up. It stuck its nose in the air and sniffed.
Without warning it bounded away into the dark of the forest. The only mark of its position the fast fading crunch of its paws on the dead twigs of the forest floor. In only moments not even that sound could be heard. Pen didn’t move. As such, neither did Gareth. She kept her gaze of the place where its form had melted into tree truck and shadow.
A moment passed.
Then another.
Gareth only waited for her.
Finally, he noticed the small life around them start to pipe up. A squirrel chittered at the base of a tree off to their right. An owl hooted from high branches up to their left. The buzz of insects joined the croaking of frogs by the river.
Pen’s shoulders relaxed. She let out a sigh.
“You good?”
Penelope I have been blown up, thrown out the back of my ship, plummeted to the surface of an unknown planet and now attacked by a wild animal four times my size. All in the span of 48 hours. I'm cursed. There's no other explanation.
“I'm… alive?”
She smacked him on the back a little harder than he could handle. He tumbled forward a step as she spoke.
“That’s victory.”
His nerves finally started to calm.
“Was that a bear?”
She laughed as she sat down.
“Ha! No, not quite. That was a wolf. Basically, the other forest predator to watch out for. Smaller but they hunt in packs.”
“I’m sorry, smaller?”
That thing was five or six times his size. In some respects it was even bigger than Pen, though their differing constructions made comparison difficult.
“Yea. Bears are hefty fuckers.”
“About how much more than that thing, the wolf?”
“Depends on the bear but I dunno, twice? Maybe a bit less maybe a bit more?”
“And your people survived by having to fight something like that?”
“Mm? Oh no. You don’t fight a bear. You leave, expeditiously. I suppose there are a few stories here and there but the lucky few belie an unlucky many.”
“Wait did you say those wolf things hunt in packs? If that’s the case, why was it…?”
“A loner perhaps? They’re social creatures like humans but there are various reasons for finding just one. Ostracized from the pack for whatever reason. Lost. Might have been an old one who decided not to burden their kids, packs tend to be families. Either way, likely not lasting long.”
“Why is that?”
“Lone wolves die. Simple as that. Their strength is in pack strategy. Without it he isn’t going to find much success hunting. He’ll starve. Almost makes you feel bad for the poor guy. It’s not a guarantee though. If he finds another pack and they accept him. Not that I know the situation, keep in mind I’m speculating.”
“If he was starving why’d he wait so long. I couldn’t have stopped him if he tried to bite me.”
“You may have known that, but he didn’t.”
“I didn’t think it was that unclear.”
“For you or me sure but its an animal. You froze staring right at him. To him that’s a display of confidence. You didn’t run, you didn’t turn away. Which would have told him you we’re prey. It’s a gamble on his part. If he attacked and was wrong, it’s the end of the line. So, he wasn’t going to strike unless he was certain we weren’t a threat… or so much of a threat that he felt it was kill us or be killed.”
“So, we kept up the façade and in turn he wasn’t going to risk taking damage that could be fatal. And he ran because he heard or smelled an easier meal somewhere else?”
“Nah he heard me, but the lady were spot on about the old part.”
Gareth whipped around lamenting the strain this constant stress was putting on his body. A gruff looking human strode out from behind a tree. He blended into the surroundings terrifyingly well but now made no attempt to hide himself.
Gareth turned back to Pen who seemed completely nonplussed.
The man chuckled.
“Suppose he weren’t the only one who heard me?”
“He definitely heard you before I did but I know what boots on wet clay sounds like.”
The man looked Pen over.
“Mmmm,” He offered with a respectful nod, “Well you’s definitely the ones they’re lookin’ for.”
“They?” Gareth asked standing.
“Yuh. That Captain Deag. Dog lookin, friendly? Said they were missing a little one and a big human woman. And if you ain’t a scrawny little fella and she ain’t an imposing som’bitch then I’m blind.”
Pen smirked.
“How far are we?”
“Bout twenty minutes that way.” He stuck a fat thumb behind him.
“Is everyone okay?” Gareth asked.
“I think so. Wasn’t no talk of casualties. I’ll say you gave us a helluva’ scare soaring right over the town. Landed just past us.”
“Thank goodness… and apologies if we-”
The man held up a hand.
“Was plenty of that already.”
“Alright…” Gareth turned a bit sheepish.
An awkward silence stirred for a few second before the man broke it.
“Well? You want to go see your friends or would ya rather sleep in the dirt another night?”
Previous
First

~Neptori~
A party was indeed hosted, set up to surround the burning mass of grass that the second creature had been hidden inside, the two severed heads spiked on massive rose thorns high above the half acre of angry flame were eyeless and toothless. Trophies for the queen’s pet Faeries and Fairies.
Tori was half certain she had seen a demon amongst the deadly, fake-friendly, party goers. His eyes didn’t just reflect the fire, they were made from fire. Sparks flew and skittered over his high cheekbones as they made eye contact in passing. A chill went down her spine, a warning and a threat.
She followed quickly after the queen, her gown had been replaced with a shorter gown resembling a white iris flower, the shoes of course matching to look like the stem. High, high heels that didn’t even touch the ground. They hovered over the ground as she fluttered her wings to stay just above her people. A subtle band of wild roses sat on her brow, Neptori only wondered about the thorns and how a flower could be so pale and yet so brightly yellow. Fluffy and tiny, the roses faintly resembled the clouds as the sun fell to make way for darkness in night.
Someone, at some point, had made sunflowers grow twice as tall as they were. They lined the main scenes of the party, their strong, velvety leaves bore golden, burning lanterns. An ashy pink smoke filtered flower shaped holes in the circular… those weren’t lanterns- fairies were nocturnal! Those were burning herbs, were they to keep predators away from the party or to heighten the pixie magic warping the sizes of everything. She took a light whiff taking in the earthy smell, the note of citrine and then the smell of honey fresh from a beehive… she suddenly felt very light. Shaking her head to shake the feeling, she finally caught up to the queen's side. Wings would have been entirely advantageous in this situation, Tori would have to do with waiting till the queen had settled on her throne at hearing distance.
Around and around the party they went, Tori being shown off like a prized pony. The queen didn’t seem to be too hated by her people, it was strange that she had said so earlier. Neptori pinched her brow trying to keep her thoughts from derailing. No, play by her rules and she will have to let Tori go. That’s what she would have to do. So around and around she went some more. Fairies drenched her in new garments. As they were the fashion capital of the realm, they were exceedingly horrified by a poor woman’s rags. Neptori accepted their gifts, too afraid to offend to deny the strange things they put on her. Her coat had been torn from her at some point, her trousers had been replaced with a purple petticoat and a pink pearl corset. Her boots were gone and her feet cried out in pain as she felt the dirt and clovers underfoot. As her toes dug into the soft heaven that was nature. A giggle escaped her, a scraggly cry really. It hurt but it was amazing. She couldn’t remember the last time she had taken her boots off. Her smell was ripe and rank but she didn’t care, her toes weren’t cramped up!
she turned to see if the queen could see- but there was nobody. Just an empty field and those burning herbs finally burning up. The smoke was so thin it fell in scraggly whisps. The morning air seemed too crisp and clean and untamed. She burst into a sprint down the path of trampled grasses. Strange flowers and shrubs had grown underfoot but they were walked all over by what must’ve been an enormous crowd. Then a light, brighter than the awakening blue overhead, the sun. The first rays yawned over the land, sending a golden and blue contrast into the world. She had never felt so at peace. So at one with her surroundings. Her face was numb and cold with it, or maybe the reverse but she was only paying attention to the awakening surrounding her.
The bees and birds and the fairies… everyone began to stir awake as slowly as if time was blinking awake with them. She just stared with watering eyes, taking in the magic that thickened in the air. The scent of apple blossoms washing over her as the land was engulfed in golden hues of every color. Then it was green. The sky was alive with fluffy white clouds, scattered across that simple barrier of blue. It was all so beautiful and it thrummed around her, in her veins it pulsed.
Everything just felt so right, then a shadow fell around her. She turned her surely very glassy eyes to find the queen standing a wreck before her. “There you are pet.” She said with a crooked grin. Her eyes were bright red and brought out the earthy green hues within her irises. Her iris party dress was limp and her band of fluffy yellow roses was gone.
“Wha- “What happened?” Neptori cried out as her knees came crashing down to the dirt and rocks and ashes and… what had happened? “Your very first fairy party it seems.” She waved a hand and the perfect scene made way for the glowing petal walls of the fairy palace.

Going to a wedding in a couple of weeks and trying to figure out what to wear. I also don't particularly want to spend too much money on new dress/shoes/accessories/etc.
I'm thinking of possibly wearing an black formal gown I already own - but it's black...It'd be great for an evening or fall/winter wedding but I worry about the setting.
The wedding is in the afternoon, outdoor in a fancy farm setting. Dress code is formal: "We suggest that men wear a suit and tie and women wear a cocktail dress or a nice pantsuit. Dress to impress! The wedding is on a farm so there will be walking on some uneven surfaces and we suggest you steer clear of stilettos, kitten heels or very high heels."
Thinking of wearing bright pink accessories or something along that line to offset the darkness of the dress. But the farm/summer thing is also throwing me way off. Thoughts?

Hello all! I wanted to make a separate post for non-jazz related titles since I already did a pretty large one a couple hours ago. Grading is record/cover. Grading is visual unless stated otherwise. Exact release listed on records over $5. Shipping is $5 plus $1.00 per additional. Shipping to CONUS only. Minimum total of $10 excluding shipping. Paypal G&S, USPS media mail. Just trying to clear out records I don't need. The more you buy, the more you save! Please ask any questions you may have. Happy browsing!
Rock
Pink Floyd - Dark Side of the Moon, 1st press, G+/G+(won't skip but plenty of light scratches and a few barely feelable), $10
Led Zeppelin - Led Zeppelin II, 1st press (not an RL though), G+/G+(won't skip, plenty of light scratches, few barely feelable), $10
Michael Jackson - Off the Wall, VG+/VG+, Beautiful copy! Plays great! $15
Love - Forever Changes, Most likely this pressing, gold label. G/VG(lots of light scratches, decent number of feelable ones, priced accordingly), $10
$5 Each
Canned Heat - Hallelujah, G+/VG
The Doors - Waiting for the Sun (gold label), G/G+
The Stash Christmas Album, VG+, VG+
Bruce Springsteen - Darkness on the Edge of Town, G+, VG
Allman Brothers - At Fillmore East (Gatefold, most likely og), G/VG
The Beatles - 1967-1970, G/VG(warp that doesn't cause skip)
Bloomfield, Kooper, Stills - Super Session, VG/G+
The Cars - The Cars, G+/VG
The Byrds - Ballad of Easy Rider, VG/VG
The Byrds - Dr. Byrds & Mr. Hyde, VG/VG
The Supremes - Hear a Symphony, G+/VG
Olatunji! - Drums of Passion, VG/VG
George Harrison - Dark Horse, VG/VG
Jethro Tull - Benefit, VG-/VG-
The Hesitations - We're at it! (promo), G+, VG
Donovan - Catch the Wind, G+/G+
Ike and Tina Turner - Something's Got a Hold on Me - VG/G
Crosby Stills and Nash - Self Titled (first german press), VG/VG
Gene Allison - Self Titled on Vee-Jay (pretty rare record on discogs), G+/G+
Neil Young - Self Titled (first press/original cover with no name on front), G/G+
Todd Rundgren - Something/Anything?, G/G+
Bob Dylan - Another Side of Bob Dylan (2-eye stereo), G/G+
Country Joe and the Fish - From Haight-Ashbury to Woodstock (1973 Quad), G/G
Beach Boys - Wild Honey (mono), G/VG
CCR - Green River, G+/G+
Supremes - We Remember Sam Cooke, G+/G+

Beginnings, I’m terrible at them. But you know what? What’s the beginning of a person? Parents. Hoarah Loux, founder and leader of the Crucible Knights. A true champion of the Crucible. Warrior King of the Golden Lineage. Husband of Marika, a less-than-true God risen from the Crucible. Marika, possessor of the Elden Ring, founder of the previous order, the Golden Order (current order is Golden Order Fundamentalism, not that this but is at all relevant to the point and thus can be entirely ignored, it’s the next paragraph that actually begins the stuff.. I guess). A trickster god, veil wielder, bestower of blessings.
Three children are known to have been born from the joining of these two great beings. One, Godwyn, lay half dead beneath the Lands Between. Another, Mohg, guards a giant, withered, living but lifeless body beneath the Lands Between. Third, Morgot, bears the frightful visage of the omen as he raises phantom and barrier to hide the greatest secret of the Lands Between.
It is this third child, Morgott, twin of Mohg, who hides the greatest secret of the Lands Between. Once, Morgott was to be called the Veiled Monarch but this, it seems, was a little too obvious. Grace-Given then. He was said to be born an omen along with his twin, Mohg. He pulled from himself his cursed omen blood and made it into a sword. His devotion to the Erdtree was supposedly never rewarded and yet he stands as King of Leyndell, de factor head of the Golden Order, and was seemingly given grace.
He creates a phantom of himself to guard the decrepit Godrick under the name Margit, deploys the Nights Cavalry, controls and corrupts a commoner to spook us away from the Capitol, raises a phantom of Godfrey, raises a phantom of Mohg, raises a barrier to prevent passage to Deeproot Depths, raises a barrier to prevent passage to the Mountaintops of the Giants.
Then we kick Morgott’s actual butt and his life’s work comes to an end. The truth is freed from obscurity. The first truth, Morgott is not an omen. His body shows no sign of horns, it is just withered and decayed, aged beyond the limits of natural life. How could this be? The omen image was either an illusion or the curse just ended when he died. I’ll cancel out the second one first, we don’t see this with other omen and while he could be a special case, I don’t think this is what happened.
So, his omen appearance was an illusion. But when was the illusion made? Perhaps, when Morgott’s purged his omen blood he was freed from the curse, this could also be when he was made Grace-Given. Then, to show a lack of resentment, he donned a mimic-veil or other similar Marika related magic to honor his cursed origin. But no traces of horns or tail… so maybe curse cures completely undo everything? Or maybe the horns and tail were never grown, because he was not an omen. He was veiled at birth or in early youth.
For the sake of clarity, I suggest one possible series of answers.
Who would do this and who knew/knows?
Obviously, Marika and Godfrey were both behind the deception, that’s how Godfrey recognizes that corpse as Morgott and another thing that makes Marika mischievous. Morgott also knows and is a willing participant in the deception. Mohg, Radagon. Potentially Godwyn, Ranni, Miquella. More depending on conspiracy connections.
Is Mohg also not an omen?
I do not know if this deception has implications for Mohg, I suspect so.
Why would Morgott be chained in the sewer even though he wasn’t really an omen?
Maybe, he wasn’t.
Ok, Morgott is not an omen. So what?
Morgott was given a truly important duty, he was to prevent the powers that be from finding out what Marika was truly doing, specifically, what was being done underground and with the roots of the Greattree/Erdtree.
The culture through which Marika and Godfrey acquired power was a crucible celebrating culture, omen were blessed to them or so we are led to believe. They were never saints, they just happened to be on the losing side of a war. Marika foresaw the destruction of her people and instead of direct opposition, she infiltrated her enemy.
We know she seems dedicated to whatever she is ultimately after, no act is off the table and no truth is above being lied about. Omen would be demonized under the Golden Order, those who would serve as guards to the big secret would guard Marika’s access route to her allies, the sewers beneath Leyndell. Sadly, not every citizen serves the clandestine plan with full knowledge of how they serve.
The Omen Twins were unknown for most of history, it seems, as far as their lineage. Morgott, in passage between surface and subsurface, would don the guise of an omen. He was always concealed from the public when in Leyndell, even his name and royal status. Sort of works into how he knew how to make those Sentry Torches and why he was almost called the Veiled Monarch.
I have no current explanation for the shackles. Real tokens bound to a false narrative people developed based on bits of the truth coming to light through the ages.
Anyways, so what is going on underground? Something is being done with the Greattree/Erdtree roots. I posit that the Greattree is like a quacking aspen, one tree with a massive root network from which multiple stalks grow and appear to be a forest but is really just one tree. The Erdtree is one stalk of the Greattree. The other stalks were destroyed one way or another. Minor Erdtrees grow from the same roots structure.
Erdtree Seeds, as we find them, sprout phantom trees. They launched from the Erdtree when Marika shattered the Elden Ring. We use them to enhance our grace juice in magic jars. The seeds were thought not to exist because they don’t, well, they are not seeds. They are grace broken off of the Elden Ring and packaged for our collection and use.
So what’s going on with the roots? Compare the surface and subsurface maps and you see the root structures that seem to fit the Erdtree and Minor Erdtrees are a little off. This misalignment is intended. Recall, the Erdtree is no longer connected to the roots of the Greattree. I suggest this was in response to the half-dead Godwyn being buried in the Erdtree/Greattree roots and infecting them with deathblight. To slow the spread of deathblight, the tree(s) was(were) cut from the roots. Perhaps a literal shifting of the land or a cut and replant type situation. This could partially play into the tilt of the Erdtree.
What leads me to this thought? The roots holding the Death-Prince are too small to be the Erdtree’s main root stalk but not that of a Minor Erdtree. And wouldn’t you know it, that half-dead Minor Erdtree with the deathblight wielding omen and his bodies is just about right over the Death-Prince root.
So when Godwyn’s soul was slain and his living body was placed in the roots, this Minor Erdtree was already growing from them. More, his living body was grafted into the roots. So now, is Morgott’s Margit the Fell phantom just guarding that pathetic Godrick? No. He’s observing and/or guarding grafting and it’s connection to the Greattree Roots and Godwyn. Measuring the reach of the deathblight maybe. I’m not entirely certain on the details, just the basic point, it’s his job.
Maybe something to do with runes and eyes and why the relic beneath Stormveil has no eyes. Runes are soul magic, deathblight is dead soul magic, remove the eyes, remove the soul/dead soul.
Back to the Death-Prince and why was he grafted to the roots? To honor him? To kill the whole system of rune harvesting for the Elden Beast? To preserve and/or revive Godwyn? Something like Miquella and the Haligtree?
(Something related but not specifically part of this: The Mending Rune of the Death-Prince is literally the Death-Prince and Fia’s souls ((in part)) bound into a Great Rune. One way to make Great Runes is the entire point of Deathbed Companions. Great Runes can literally be entities… like the Elden Beast… the Deathbed Companions are not necessarily the only way to make Great Runes, the Forge of the Giants and some kind of great sacrifice like the burning of massive grace filled tree stalks and ice dragons could be another way…)
Speaking of Miquella, the prevalent belief is that Miquella and Godwyn were great buds or whatever, right? Mohg is depicted carrying Miquella and a giant cocoon in the opening. Clearly, that cocoon is too big for that little body. We also see a possible double womb in the Haligtree. Perhaps, Mohg took Miquella and a second, unready, body. This second, much larger body, was certainly important to Miquella but maybe not for his own occupation.
So who’s the big, withered, husk in the cocoon? Well, it’s an upscaled Morgott model. Maybe, just maybe, that is actually Godwyn. Mohg, in service to Miquella and/or the Formless Mother and/or Marika, is guarding his half dead brother. Keeping the body alive and hidden in these final stages of whatever is going on.
Speaking of the Formless Mother, Marika seems a holy shell. Perhaps this exterior is a puppet or doll. Marika is free of flesh and form, at least, we have not seen her true self. All sorts of things will come out if I don’t stop.
So why block the way to the Mountaintops of the Giants? Well, it’s the way to the Forge, also the way to a Divine Tower, and Miquella’s Haligtree.
I haven’t completely figured it all out but it is another small part of my overall grand theory.

Blachowicz here.
Kept yah’ waiting, huh? Heh, sorry about that one, but I can explain. As we all know… we lost a few good men the last few months.
That’s the brutal part of a hybrid war like ours: We’re fighting a foe unconventional, with half our arsenal tied down because those who grant us authorization are either in disbelief of the true facts, or scared… or already assimilated. That being said our momentum recently was a change not seen in years, and because of that… despite the losses we have garnered, we were close through a breakthrough. One last night Krol pulls myself and other two must trusted squad leads into the back of our COP. There is one of our equipment cages, surrounded by m-bitter radios, tripods, and several hundred thousand dollars of equipment he brought us around a simple worn table. Before us he laid a map of eastern poland… red markings indicating cells that seemed to dot the countryside like a pestilence, or used to… as deep gashes of advance from raids had trisected their lines, even if ones did pop up in the interior.
It was a back and forth; an outside virus infecting Polska at it’s heart, and we were the antibodies sent to drive them out. To which… Major Krol points to one of the largest symbol on the map: a dark red diamond, the NATO symbol for an enemy unit, deep inside of an untouched wooded area, adjacent to a mountain ridge. Several jagged lines indicated entrenchment, with red horizontal lines indicating possible enemy control… or our contested control, for over 20kms surrounding it. Letting us all look, the Major lit himself a cigarette.
“Sir, you sure it’s wise to smoke in here with the dive tanks just behind us” 1st Squad’s lead quipped. “Fuck off” Krol dryly said.
“Alright… this is it… this is the one we’ve been searching for for years, this is the nucleus my predecessor commander died trying to find” he says, pointing to it. Not far from Zamosc, it was almost touching the border with Belarus, the contested area indicating the Strigoi did operate over it… indicating one of the largest spill through points. “-It’s an old soviet bunker, made during their 1960s initiative it was designed to hold the munitions and manpower of several units in the event of a NATO first strike” Krol explained. “It’s gotta be massive then…” I said gazing at the map; “Didn’t the army demolish all of the old soviet hulks near Belarus to prevent any infiltrations?” 3rd Squad’s lead asked. “National Police took the effort over… and by extension, the Strigoi. It was halfway demo’ed before they burrowed into it and have been using it as a bridgehead ever since. This is it…” Krol said. He looked around at all of us, a sense of certainty I had never seen before as he blew smoke from his nostrils; “We’ve been fucking around in the dark for so long, it’s hard to believe we’ve made any progress, but this is it. With this gone, this will set them back over a decade and the momentum will finally shift into our favor… into Poland’s… -Europe’s”.
I swear there was almost a flash of joy, of pride in his eyes and a phantom of a smirk before reality set back in “That being said… we can’t leave this to chance, especially not something as important as this. We’re going to have to go there ourselves… clear through every inch of that place, and tear it all down, piece by piece. I will be straight with you all… when we go, there will be some of us that aren’t coming back. -but we are going… a whole generation is counting on us, and unborn billions rely on us to succeed”. We all nodded, a silent agreement washing over us as we took this upon ourselves. Echo-1 spoke up: “So… They’re authorizing a raid? How big?”. “We’re rolling in as a hard target, armor, explosives, and air support” Krol answered, taking a drag off his cigarette. “Aviation? How the hell did we get that approved, we’ve gotten attempts shot down four times due to those leeches” I said in disbelief. “There’s too much evidence here pointing to the human trafficking tied to their actions… We’ve finally got too much weight pinning them down, to keep the hammer from slamming into their necks” Krol chuckled. He looked around “Any questions?”. “When?” Echo-3 asked. “Three hours. We’re hitting them in the dead of night, only time we could get the birds authorized. Get your boys ready. We’re rolling out” Krol said, dying the cigarette bud out on the table. I can’t begin to tell you the euphoria we felt leaving that cage, as our men started arriving, they did so a lot quicker, and with their heads a lot higher than they had in weeks. As Second Squad’s lead we were going to be one of the main arms of attack into the bunker, thus I made sure we had a breacher loaded with enough thermite, charges, and tools to cut through anything. Our shield bearer we ready to go, as was our assaulters, grenadiers, and machine gunner. I double checked each and everyone of their weapons; ensuring the feeder paws of our squad’s belt fed were intact, making sure every breach charge we had was properly set and packed. There was going to be no mistakes, no slip ups. The margin of error needed to be the smallest it had ever been for us tonight if we were going to make the gore spilt worth it.
Finally… there on the outside of the building, the bright LED lights kept the darkness of the ensuing night at bay as the roar of our MRAPs could be heard. It was said once that war is 99% peace, and 1% chaos, they were right. The slow periods where the blood slowed and the doubt creeped in was the worst… yet we all kept it at bay. We needed to, there was going to be no backing down tonight. All three squads were up, all of us ready to go… we circled up… short stares and shaky nods telling us one things: We were in this together, till the end… the finish line so many before us had been searching for, we were being granted tonight.
A single set of footsteps could be heard as we turned, Major Krol stepping into the center. He took the last drag of a cigarette, throwing it down to the ground and stamping it out onto the damp concrete. He looked around… his chin strap blowing in the weak air as he met everyone of our gazes… then mine… then looked around. “I want you to remember every detail of tonight, as you have every other night… when you are situationally aware, scanning for the enemy, liberating the subjugated, I want you to remember the sting of anxiety, the shake of adrenaline, the chill of the bunker, the heat of your weapon as it cuts them down… because tonight we are going to write every fine detail of our victory, their defeat, in history…” Krol’s words echoed deep into our souls. He paused for a moment, staring around he looked down… a small pause before he said “When you are ruthless in combat, remember to be patient, and reserved in victory. This conflict is for our existence… a lot of innocents have bled due to the mistakes of those who failed to listen, a lot of our brothers are now laid under because we had to bridge the gap of uncertainty with their lives. We remember them now… but in an hour? We forget them… when we raise our barrels, when we cut into those foes, and we liberate Polska!! This does not end tonight, but history puts everything in it’s place, and patience is the companion of the victor… All of our hard work will be cemented, no matter the obstacles we face in that darkness… no matter the demons, the blood, no matter what incomprehensible horrors, we will make them comprehend that to invade our land, to bleed our people, the justice will be paid in full… Load up. It’s time*”*.
The purpose in our steps was heavy as we climbed the back ramps of the MRAPS; Four of the heavily armored vehicles, one for each squad with an additional for attached personnel including our JTAC, the term means Joint Terminal Attack Controllers. With air support requisitioned to us for this operations, there needs to be a definite liaison on the ground who can directly communicate to the birds, and coordinate their fire and progress. I’d worked with many of them in the past, resourceful guys, quick thinking though I guess that comes with the position they hold of needing to quickly figure out what bombs to drop, on which target, at what precise points, whilst taking contact. He loaded in the lead vehicle with Major Krol… and soon, our convoy kicked off.
The drive was several hours as myself and my squad sat in the back of that forty ton goliath, the rumbling of the engine keeping us awake as the crap heater fought to keep the cold from the outside frost from setting in. I looked around to each of them, some were catching some sleep because even with the circumstances… better to get all the energy you can, than to stay awake for nothing. Others were checking their weapons… My gunner locked eyes with me, the same one from the village extraction… many of these men I had trained with for a while now, fought with for months.
We may have met on unconventional circumstances but those in JW Grom thrive on austere chance and create opportunity from scratch. I was pulled from my thought by the sound of a transmission, my peltors were set up for dual comms so I could both receive information from the Major and other leads, whilst communicating with my team.
Krol himself sent out: [“Approximately 10 minutes from enemy AO…”]. As the rest of the squads acknowledged, I quickly sent out [“Echo-2 Copies”], before kicking the boots of any of them sleeping: “Look alive, we’re here”. Through the exterior net armor of the MRAPS, and the bars protecting the small reinforced windows, we could barely see jack shit. I reached up, turning off the overhead light as we all looked through our nods to scan the outside. A dark wall of dense trees was shown before us, making it difficult to see… in addition to night vision capabilities we had also requisitioned ourselves some thermals… when mounted onto rifles they were bulky, made it a pain to aim down quickly, but considering the supernatural capabilities of spotting our foes we needed every advantage necessary.
I flipped out one of my tubes… scanning the outside with my scope. I looked over to one of my assaulters who had been assigned to man the turret of the MRAP, seated near the view screen as he controlled the 50. Cal. Each of the vehicle turrets had been assigned a direction to cover… we took the 9 o’clock, the left flank. “See anything?” I asked. He shook his head; “Negative… wait… I’ve got two cold signatures, front left heading to our rear”.
I quickly scanned the far tree line, at approximately 60 meters off our left were two cold signatures… followed by a third heading to our front… then another. They were surrounding us, moving at speeds so fast I could barely keep my reticle on them. Is this what the National Police saw? What they faced at that lodge without the benefit of a foot of heavy armor protecting them on all sides. Then… suddenly. Something slammed into the side of our MRAP so hard, it caused it to shake. From over the leader comms, Echo-3 quickly shouted [“Contact right!! 4 hostiles!!”].
One of the Strigoi… so bold, had charged and slammed into the side of our MRAP. I quickly looked to see the figure, a dark blue mass of cold energy through my thermal, back away without so much as a stagger… as they tried to flee into the woods, the white hot justice of Echo-3’s gun fired at them, cutting them down. “Blachowicz I’ve got a few breaking for our vic” my man on the turret called out, I spun around, spotting out the window.
Just then, Major Krol announced [“weapons free, watch and shoot for targets of opportunity…”]. I turned to him… “take those fuckers out-”. Without hesitation my vic’s turret began to quickly target them, and through the darkness I saw a stream of outgoing fire bisect one of them, the ISR of the black blood freaking out the optic so badly it didn’t know what temperature to register it as… but it did register it. As another was cut down, one broke through the tree line and latched onto the side of our MRAP. The thing tore at one of the outer net armor panels, usually made to stop RPGs. It grabbed at the bars near the windows, tearing one off… I lowered my rifle as we locked eyes through the reinforced window.
The thing… the Strigoi looked at me, skin cracked as putrefied muscle fibers seemed to leak through dead flesh. It’s teeth were corroded and worn down to sharp fragments, alongside newly mutated fangs that messily protrude from the jaws. Even through the thick walls of the MRAP I could hear it’s roar, as it then tried to punch it’s way through… it cracked the outer coating of the vehicle… but it wasn’t getting anywhere near. My machine gunner, seated next to me, seemed to chuckle at the sight, quippily saying “Yeah… fuck you too”. It’s then our vehicle lurched upwards, as we began to climb the small incline of the bunker. I knew the layout, mapped it in our head, the main entrance was built into the rocky side of an old cliff meaning we could easily set up a defensive perimeter around it, a horseshoe. Krol’s vehicle was first, taking to the right as Echo-3’s MRAP followed. My vehicle, third, left the incline and took a left and… that’s where things got complicated.
We’re still trying to work out what happened but… from what Joakim says his drone captured. Right when the MRAP turned, several of the monsters quickly slammed into the side of the vehicle, as another more bulkier one, pushed at it’s undercarriage. The result.. Was the 40 ton armored vehicle tipped over. It wasn’t uncommon, hell in some cases a well placed IED, a good shot with a recoilless rifle, have been known to tip over Oshkoshs and Maxpros all the time. But this beast? Needless to say we barely had a second to comprehend it as it leaned to the left; “Grab on to something-” is all I had time to shout. A mess of gear and men spilled onto one side of the vehicle as it slammed into the old gravel and dirt.
Several of my assaulters, my grenadier planted right ontop of myself and the others as we came to a stop. Someone’s knee slammed directly into the side of my skull, causing me to dazily bob in and out of consciousness as my face was smushed against the glass of one of the windows.
Through my peltors, the other squads were erratic;
[“Echo-2’s vehicle is down!!”].
[“Echo-3 to Echo-2… Echo-3 to Echo-2…”].
Krol’s voice came through the comms;
[“Echo-Lead to Echo-2… Fuc-... Echo-1 secure Echo 2’s flank, Echo-3”].
[“Echo-3 to other units, they’re spilling through, I’ve got several enemy combatants converging on Echo-2’s vehicle”].
I pushed the legs of my grenadier off my head as I fought to my hands and knees, unfucking my nods as I looked around… “Fuck it… we’re going lights on, shield your eyes” I muttered as I reached for the overhead lights and flipped them on. The bright LEDs bathed the inside of the vehicle as we all gained our bearings, a mess of multicam, gear, and weapons as we quickly pushed each other off. My gunner caught as he fought to realign his promask, from what I gathered one of the assaulters had landed directly into his gun, pushing it directly into his jugular, as pulled back at the rubber and coughed, freeing up his esophagus. We didn’t have time to think however… the sound of bending metal caught our attention… as the back ramp door of the MRAP was ripped clean off. I could barely believe it but as the white light of the MRAP’s interior poured to the outside, a hulking mass leaned in, the dead flesh on it’s face nearly fallen off as the hideous Strigoi leaned inside.
Without hesitation I aimed took aim, yelling “Keep to the deck!!” to any of those inbetween myself and the invader as I opened fire. A burst of full auto fire tore through it’s collar and neck, my men quickly clung to either sides of the fallen MRAP as a few more fired out. As the thing backed up, a blast of .50 cal fire quickly tore it to shreds, along with several others as I realized they were fuckin swarming over the outside of our vehicle. Echo-3’s vehicle continued to carefully fire on the Strigoi on the outside, the sounds of .50 cal ricocheting off the outside of our armor was enough to make the pucker factor set in.
[“Echo-3 to Echo-2”].
[“This is Echo-2, we’re green on ammo, equipment, men”].
[“Roger, we’re shifting fire, exit the vehicle”].
“Hurry up let’s go!!” I barked to my men, leading the way as I staggered out. I turned on my peq, taking aim at silhouettes in the brush as I began to fire. The sounds of machine guns lighting up the brush, as a sea of growls, howls, and incomprehensible roars fired back at us was the ambient noise of the night. My men quickly exited, my gunner being the last as he and I pulled back to the rest of the defensive perimeter. I set in my men to take up the frontal security, as 3rd squad took the right flank, 1st squad to the left. Major Krol and the JTAC were bickering with each other; “How far out are the birds”. “They’re entering airspace now…” Joakim said, already scanning his smart book.
I asked “What’ve we got?”. He then flipped through… to the NATO combined arms segment, quippily saying; “Apaches…”. This caused me to pause as Echo-3 turned their head whilst directing their squad’s fire “The hell… where did we get apaches from?”. “The Americans… they volunteered” Krol said dismissively as he took aim at the darkness, firing off a controlled trio. “Volunteered? They’re aware of what’s going on?” I asked.
Krol seemed to stop, glancing back at me before returning his focus “There’s a lot more going on than you realize, Blachowicz… Prep the breach, you and 1st are going on”.
I quickly pulled my breacher off the line, securing some thermite as the reinforced bunker door wasn’t going to go as easily as a conventional door breach would. 1st Squad pulled back, stacking up and preparing themselves to be the first in. All the while… Joakim gave his firing solution; “Alpha Hotel Two Five Nine, This is Bravo-4…… Type 2….”.
I snapped to my right, watching as a Strigoi managed to dark across the clear gravel field, only to be cut down by my gunner, the peq’s laser marking the burst as it tore through the beasts’ hips, as it hit the ground and still continued to claw, another GROM operator took aim and fired into it’s skull. Joakim popped up to his feet…. “Marking laser, high power…”. He then pulled out a target marking laser… if you’ve watched night operations, you’ve probably seen them.
The green laser than as it says on the label, marks targets. The pattern of which can vary… if it’s a point target, it’ll usually lasso an area, or remain on target until the target is removed with extreme prejudice. If its close air support, then it’ll be a line of the general area… and Joakim damn near marked the entire perimeter around us. He quickly pocketed the tool, turning back to Krol; “Don’t go past 20 meters unless you want to be liquidated”.
With that… 2nd and 1st stacked up at the door as 3rd squad took up the perimeter security. As Major Krol went over to Echo-1… I saw them. A single blinking IR strobe from the beasts as they moved on the far off horizon, converging from several angles… and fired. The sound of the Apache’s main gun, the M230, truly sounds like the hammer of god… the 30mm cannon shot through the dark sky, lighting it up as we saw three incoming streams tear up the woods. Only then as the sound broke did we start to hear their rotors as they broke and began to circle, firing again… then… Joakim dipped his head and looked to Krol; [“Foxtrot Mike, hang onto your teeth…”]. One of the Apaches fired off a AGM-114… a Hellfire. I barely saw it out of the corner of my eye as the Apache from our right flank fired off at a target approximately 200 meters off. A fireball lit up the forest as the horrendous roar echoed throughout… then went silent.
Echo-3 scanned the horizon carefully;
[“Echo-3 to Echo-Lead, enemy contact is starting to die down”].
[“Maintain perimeter, Close Air is to maintain fire mission until we are boots up, Break…”].
[“Echo-Lead to Echo-1, condition white has been met. Proceeds”]. I saw Echo-1 and his men quickly stack up close to the wall and gesture to me; Breaching. I quickly pulled my stack back against the wall as his and mine breacher quickly hit their actuators. Now under normal circumstances, it doesn’t take much for thermite to melt the locks off of a metal surface, in fact it’s a more precise took as alternative means get real medieval like saws, pry bars… we weren’t in the mood for precision, we need to breach their little lair, and drag them out. The sound of several pounds of hellfire burning through the metal could be heard around the corner as a sea of white and red sparks flew out… after several seconds, two of our men tossed a fragmentation grenade and a nine-bang through the opening… a series of concussive blasts and a large explosion rang out.
Echo-1 and his men maneuvered. 1st Squad quickly converged as we followed them in.
Stepping through the black wall of smoke, the dark abyss of the interior was illuminated in a white light as entered barrels raised. Shots rang out as several of the beasts near the entrance were cut down, though not immediately, rounds disconnected the shoulder of one of them, leading to their arm hanging limply by a single tendon as they roared… another series of rounds putting them down. What greeted us was a messy concrete hell of rust and debris, fecal matter, trash, and all kinds of obstacles laid in our way, our boots sticking to the floor. I thank every god we had promasks that night. I called my shield bearer up, 2nd squad leapfrogging ahead to take the next corridor as 1st squad checked their weapons.
One of my men mule kicked the metal door ahead, twice, finally the latch gave away as we tossed in a grenade. A horrifying roar was cut off as an M67 shook the walls of the ancient soviet mausoleum, frag and spall kicked off the walls as I moved in right behind my shield man. The cramped russian design meant there was barely enough space for three people, and that’s three normal people, not in 50kgs of kit, moving slowly and maneuvering against creatures of the dark. Still… we moved forward, my shield bearer and I pushing the pace as two stacked of either squad formed on either wall.
As we passed doorways they flowed in… “Door Left!!”, “Door Right!!”. “Move!!”.
Two men entered each side, no gunshots, we moved up, a roar came.
“Door left!!-”. A series of gunshots came out as we continued to push forward.
“Two down!!”. “Confirm them” Krol commanded, as a series of gunshots run out in response. From one of the doorways, a Strigoi emerged… a female… clumps of hair had been ripped from her decaying skull, as her blooded eyes locked on myself and my shieldman. The skin on her hands had been tore down to the point where barely her bones and tendons remain… looking like huge talons as she roared and lunged at us. He fired off his pistol, though the rounds did little to stop her as she pushed against our stack.
“Fuck!!” he muttered, somehow her strength caused him to stagnate, holding up the advance… fuck that. I shoved the muzzle of my MK18 into her ribcage, flipping the weapon to auto as I fired of round after round. The 5.56 salvo disconnecting her spinal column, causing her to fall as I continued to fire, along with a man to our right and left as the stacks reformed as we pushed to the end of the hall. I fell back, dropping the magazine and loading a fresh one, like clockwork a GROM Operator from 1st squad took my place. Krol was beside me as we approached the end of the hall.
[“-Prep an entry”] I radioed to my breacher, a comrade handed him one of the charges from his back panel as he took to the door, quickly securing it. We all moved as far back as we could, look away, exhale. The blast knocked metal and wood in all directions, scrapping against our uniforms and kit as we made our way in and what laid before us was… it used to be the center atrium of one of these bunkers. Soviet’s loved their grandiose designs, the complex was supposed to be a circular room around a central planning table… instead. It had been turned into some sort of church. Runes and old eastern Romuva pagan symbols written in black ink and blood across the walls, old rotten filing cabinets, long receipt terminals. In the center… several of the Strigoi were kneeling before the table where someone had been tied down, flayed, and… shared amongst the group. They rose to their feet, we aimed our barrels…
The ladder amongst turned to us… his skin wasn’t cracked, or flayed, it was smooth… it still looked dead as the body on the table but it seemed more… accustomed to it. I don’t know… evolved? Under the surface however I could see it’s darkened veins pumping whatever cursed blood ran through them as it locked two blood red eyes onto each of us. It’s nose had long since been turn off, exposing boney nostrils to the open air as it seemed to smirk. All across it’s body were the same symbols on the walls, in every cell… markings of death, of rebirth, of assimilation… From behind this seemingly Alpha emerges another figure I had never seemed before… dressed in a white cloak with a deer head.
"So they've followed the trail... they're too late" the Deer headed individual spoke, definitely not from here, a dialect similar to an Americans but... aristocratic? Each word was drawn out, assurance as if they had everything mapped down to our actions. They didn’t sound like they were from Poland or the east.
“Doesn’t matter…” the Alpha growled… and then, it lunged at us. Quickly breaking from their ground it slammed into my shield man knocking both him and myself at the ground as it displayed an intense feat of strength. Around us I could see several of the Strigoi leap at our comrades… though to no fruitful endeavor as I could see one GROM operator cut two down, as another got into a hand to hand confrontation… my breacher, crafty as they were, reached back and slammed one of the prybars of his kit into the skull of the beast.
The Alpha however was not content as it threw away the 90lb shield, sending it flying across the room as it grabbed my comrade by the skull. I quickly kicked up at it, firing my MK18 into it’s body as the rounds pierced it’s gray and rune covered flesh. The thing simply seemed to chuckle… that was until Major Krol blasted away at the side of it’s head, the alpha turned… and it’s smirk turned to a scowl when face to face with the major. A knowing pause almost like they had done this dance before…
The creature lunged, locking up with Major Krol as it swung and slammed railing. Krol didn’t back down however as he pushed against the creature, hiptossing it to the ground even as it tore at his armor and gear. But the beast pulled, both of them rolled and the Major was on his back as the thing reached for his neck. I fought to a kneel, firing into the creature messily with my MK18, trying not to hit my commander… then…
Click. A sound sends a chill up the spine of every warfighter during a firefight.
My gun ran dry. I dropped the magazine, looking to load another, but the thing came up and with one of it’s claws, sliced deep into my cheek, through the pro mask. I could feel my own blood go flying through the air as I landed hard on my back plate, spitting out red iron as I quickly tried to adjust my mask. Through my fogged up, blood covered lense… I saw my shield man raise his pistol, firing into the skull of the thing staggering it with a roar. Krol came from behind, drawing his knife he sunk it deep into the neck of it…. I reached for my rifle, forcing a new magazine in and damn near punching the bold release. ““Sir, down!!” I shouted, Krol rolled away, back to his own rifle as I fired. So did my comrade as he continued to fire his pistol… so did the Major as he fired his rifle. All of us chewing through that apex predator of darkness, that beast… the leader that had been preying on our people for so long. Layer by layer, muscle group by bone… eventually… the alpha landed on whatever was left of his back.
The silence of the fight died down as all of us checked our surroundings, GROM Operators putting controlled pairs in the heads and nerve stems of any Strigoi laying around… I flicked my weapon onto safe, letting it hang as I pulled off my mask. I dared not touch the wound on my face… the pain nearly crippling me if it wasn’t sheer will pushing me through, and adrenaline doing all it could to subdue it. The sound of the apaches continuing to lay hate drew us from our moment of contemplation as the Major went back to work; [“Confiscate any info, burn the rest…”]. He turned back to me as I shoved my damaged M50 mask back into it’s bag, chuckling as he looked at the sight; “You need a medevac, Blachowicz?” he quipped.
I shook my head, barely able to speak as I muttered; “Negative sir…”. The two of us scanned the room as my shield bearer went to collect his defense implement turned 90lb projectile, we scanned the center of the room, checking and confirming bodies, until we got to the last one alive. His white gown was soaked in red crimson and black ooze, as his dear head was mangled from bullet fire and impact from falling on it. I swear… the way his blood poured out of it though made me wonder if it was a mask. I gave it no second thoughts as he looked to Krol; “You… you can’t stop this, they’ve already-”.
The Major was in no mood for communication as his rifle snapped up and fired off three rounds to the body, four the head. The violent yet quick salvo ending the cultists life, I looked down at it, then to him as he remarked; “Have your squad drag him out to the front, burn the rest”. I stood alongside him, looking down as the sight of it’s deer head was both captivating and horrifying… the curiosity in me wanting to look closer at it fighting the primal instinct I had to burn the thing to ash. “-Haven’t seen one of those before…” I muttered, thinking the Major had an answer.
He didn’t. Krol saying “Neither have I…” shortly before he walked away, was what truly shook my soul about that entire night. Victory stood firm in our hearts that night as we stood outside of the bunker. The night sky burning with fire and white phosphorus as we watched the ruin burn from the inside from the other side of the lot. In the distance, the Apaches continued to scan and circle the forests, no longer firing…. Which meant they had driven any or turned to glass any enemy combatants within a four miles, probably both, more than likely the latter. Echo-1 patted me on the shoulder as we stood there, soaking it all in, though Krol looked none to pleased. “In the time it took us to take this one down, they’ll be trying to set up three more cells… that being established…” he said, looking to either of us, then to Echo-3. “-Hell of a thing we did tonight, been waiting for this one for a decade, cleanly, maybe more… but no time to rest on our laurels… we’ll have another task for us as soon as we’re boots down back home” he said, to which his eyes followed mine, the body of whatever cultist that was zipped up in a black body bag beside the wheel of one of the MRAPs. The fire from the bunker casting an orange hue over it’s shiny jet black outside, something didn’t sit right with me… “That wasn’t a Strigoi…” I said to Krol.
“That’s very clear…” the Major said, shoving his mask under his arm and lighting a cigarette. “So… someone’s helping them?” I asked. The meer notion of it shook me to my core, sickened me. This parasite was already badly infecting Europa, Polska… if it was spread like this throughout the world. Krol settled my nerves: “We’ll be ready… It’s not just us anymore”. As he said that, I realized what he meant… my eyes looking to the Apaches as they started to form up, leaving the areas as their thunderous propellers melted into the night’s calm, unnerving ambience.
It’s been a couple of weeks since then, Echo Detachment has been busy. We’ve gained good ground against the enemy and honestly I think in a few years, we might see a much larger change. For now… we must keep going, that being said the Strigoi aren’t the only ones we’ve been combating. Recently we’ve made contact with of some sort of extermination coalition, they’ve known about the Strigoi, and others plaguing the world, the level of corruption and corrosion on society goes deep. Regardless a lot of the units we’ve been working with are apart of NATO, such as this “4th Special Forces Group” of the American Military. I don’t know where the road from here leads, but we’ve gotten momentum on our side, finally. Just remember… these things are out there, in every town, every city, every nation… preying and waiting for you to be alone, vulnerable, so they can take you and replace you.
Watch your back, and stay safe.
For now, Blachowicz signing out. Until next time

I cant remember the name no matter how hard I try 😭😭 the FL has a sister (original FL?) from the same mother but different father. She became a mercenary to help raise the sister and was secretly the dukes daughter (duke and her half brother have black hair and red eyes). She became a really famous mercenary (secretly)
I think the ML was the blonde prince?? And there was a mage second ML, a secret Prince from another nation and she could use black aura
Any help is appreciated! 🥰

I thought that it would be fun to imagine a fnaf character as a smash fighter. and while freddy made sense i felt william afton was more appropriate. so with out further ado here is his moveset
Purple Guy MOVESET
Lightweight with 2 jumps (the jumps would just have afton raise elevation, no animation)
Gimmick
More so a visual thing but afton would be a 2d sprite like mr game and watch. Except for all of his moves where he is springtrap or a springtrap variant which would use a 3d model. The exception is spring bonnie which would stay 2d Also when he crouches he will turn into a 2d spring bonnie collapsed on the floor
Basic Attacks
Jab: Disassemble (Afton swing one arm forward before swinging the other)
Basic 2 hit Jab
(Aftons famous sprite)
Dash: Foxy Go Go (Afton dawns a foxy mask and jumps forward)
Pretty strong Damage
(Michael Scaring his brother and Withered Foxy Jump Scare)
Side Tilt: Run (Both his arms are put forward as he runs forward)
Does Good knockback but mid damage
(When he ran into the suit)
Up tilt: Fear (Afton punches his arm above him)
Does Great Knockback but no damage
(Running away from the spirits)
Down Tilt: Spirit (a spirit appears in front of afton)
Does minor damage but can cause a stun
(Spirts causing aftons springtrap)
Side Smash: Jumpscare (Afton turns into springtrap and walks forward)
Does A lot of damage and has a chance to stun
(Springtrap jumpscare fnaf 3)
Up Smash: Dark Trap (Afton Turns into spring trap as he leans back before leaning forward back to standing position)
Does Great Damage but really slow
(Dark Springtrap aka sister location springtrap cutscene)
Down Smash: Springtrapped (Afton freaks out in the suit (still 2d) )
Does Great Damage to both afton and the opponent. But also can bury
(Aftons death)
Aerials
Neutral Air: Activation (Spring bonnie extends all of their limbs)
Does Great Damage to afton and his foe. And also great knockback to the foe
(First thing to happen when Aftons springlocked)
F Air: World Slash(Afton smashes the below area)
Does Great damage and can spike.
(Fnaf world attack)
B Air: First Spring (As spring bonnie punches down behind him)
Does Great damage and can spike
(First spring bonnie appearance)
Up Air: Dark Return (Afton Turns into spring trap as he leans back before leaning forward back to standing position)
Does Great Damage but really slow
(Dark Springtrap aka sister location springtrap cutscene)
Down Air: Panic (Afton shakes the feet below him)
Hits great damage and can spike. Also has a chance to use the springtrap model which would just be visual
(When burntrap got kidnapped. And the panic animation shared between afton and CC)
Grabs
Grab: Shadow freddy appears the foe as both Hold the opponent up
(Loosely based on the events before the bite of 83 and the events in the follow me games)
Pummel: Same thing as his jab
F Throw: Shadow freddy walks forward where the opponent follows them before shadow freddy disappears and william runs up and punches the foe twice
(the events in the follow me games)
B Throw: Shadow freddy walks behind afton where the opponent follows them before shadow freddy disappears and william runs up and punches the foe twice
(the events in the follow me games)
Up Throw: Uppercut
(smash original)
Down Throw: Puts opponent in suit (doesn’t do any damage but when the throw is finished it causes the foe to still be wearing the suit for 15 seconds which while making them heavier also makes them incredibly slow and jumps go half as far)
Specials
Neutral Special: Ventilation
Springtrap enters a vent in the ground. Acts Like meta knights peek a boo with some minor differences. First after a random amount of time the opponent will become poisoned and lightweight. After all theres a thing in vents its harder to get clean air. After another amount of random time a random phantom animatronic will appear and stalk the opponent. If it hits the opponent they will become dizzy. Sounds broken right. Well while in the vents will also takes damage. And after a random amount of time will be bouted out at a random part of the stage with the dizzy effect. Could happen before or after a phantom spawns but will always happen after the light wight poison. So it’s a very risk and reward move how much damage do you wanna take, the opponent is light do i strike now or risk getting booted for the phantom. Also can only move horizontally and puts you in free fall if existed in the air
Side Special: Plushtrap
Plushtrap appears in front of Afton and chases the nearest foe. Only one plushtrap can be on screen per afton player at a time. When it manages to hit a foe it act like a stronger pikmin that will take 5 seconds to disappear where it takes no time to spawn another one. If After 30 seconds the plushtrap never hits someone it will naturally disappear where it takes 15 seconds to spawn another one. And it will freeze for 2 seconds if hit by a projectile. Finally it can’t fall off cliffs nor can it jump so it will never be in the air. unless spawned in the where it acts like a Pikmin spawned in the air. Also wouldn’t change anything mechanically but it has a 1/10 chance to summon a bunny from princess quest. Specifically the flying ones that appear in the beginning. And a 1/50 chance to summon vanny. Again changes nothing except visual
Up Special: Malware
Afton turns into springtrap as a tentacle comes out of his body. You can point to which direction you want the tentacle to appear. It acts as a basic tether recovery with one caveat. If it hits a foe they will have a 25% chance to become infected. When infected your directions reverse and out of every 16 attacks 1 of them will not go through and leave you vulnerable. You will be infected for sixteen second before you are cured. Now to balance it out if the attack is used and doesn’t connect to a stage or player there will be heavy end lag and will put you in free fall if used in the air. So always be careful when using this move
Down Special: Bite of 83
As Springtrap Will Bites Down. acts exactly like wario's neutral special.
Final Smash: Missing Character incident
A cinematic final smash. The smash starts with afton throwing a rainbow knife as a refrence to the move slasher in Fnaf World. Any one hit by the rainbow knife has a 1/10 chance to instantly lose stock. But if that one in ten chance fails they enter the cinematic. It shows the character at a birthday party before they’re lured away by a 3d model for spring bonnie.it then cuts to black before showing the character trapped in a golden freddy suit. Racking up tons of damage but no knockback. However if the opponents damage goes over 100% it is an instant stock loss
Cosmetics + Gimmicks
Every costume has both a different color for will and a different springtrap variant. And you can pick which springtrap variant you want with whatever afton you want. So you could have alt 3 afton with an alt 7 springtrap.
Costumes
Pure Purple - Springtrap
Pure Orange (Midnight Motorist) - Scraptrap
Pure Pink (Pink guy theory (no i don’t believe it just felt like it should be referenced) ) - Vanny
Pure Blue (Phone Guy) - Glitchtrap
Pure Red (Old man consequences) - Frost Springtrap (yes i know only plushtrap has a skin in special delivery but creative liberties)
Pure Yellow (Prize King And Sun) - Toxic Springtrap
Pure Bluish Grey (Moon) - Burntrap
Black body with white stripes and white face (Puppet) - Flaming Springtrap
Stage Entrance: Will comes in on a car like captain falcons
Taunts
Iconic Save Them Sprite
Eats pizza
Pose he takes in fruit maze
Victory Animations
Springtrap stands in the middle of a bunch of masks with a light in there eyes
The puppet lays on the floor as a car stands parked in the background
Nothing appears on screen before springtrap jumps the screen
(If you win the match with the final smash it show william dancing in the pizzeria)

TLDR: I’m having new revelations and want to know how my personality matches up to ASPD. Long read.
This is potentially not possible over the internet but I’m having trouble reconciling some ideas and was searching for other opinions. I don’t go to therapy.
I have never thought of myself as “psychopathic.” I’ve always held the belief that people who were psychopathic were violent. I am the opposite. As a kid, I did not outlet anger well, but by the end of elementary school it had been coerced out of me. In the past, when thinking of whether or not I’m a psychopath, I had always hard-stopped the thought because I’m not violent. Over the past few days, I have looked more into psychopathy, and I don’t know how I don’t fit into it.
I used to think I felt empathy like normal people do, but then I learned there’s different kinds of empathy. I don’t think I feel affective empathy at all. It’s essentially all cognitive empathy. I actually didn’t even realize people’s emotional state could change to match another’s when they’re empathizing. Like, hearing how someone lost a family member actually makes people feel sad? I don’t understand that. Personally, I always thought empathy was, “how would I feel in their shoes… not good, I should help them.”
I’ve always maintained towards friends that I don’t feel embarrassment. I used to think I felt remorse, and guilt, but I think deep down, it’s all regret. I don’t even understand how guilt could feel different than remorse. I channel guilt as regret for choosing that behavior, or action. I channel remorse as regret for making someone feel a certain way, because (cognitive empathy kicks in) I wouldn’t want to feel that way.
I think as a kid, I took the Golden Rule as an oath rather than a “rule.” I treated everyone the way I want to be treated. I still do, and I hold myself to strict standards. I studied math in college for 3.5 years (didn’t graduate) and developed a heightened sense for logic. I strive to be as logical as possible, justifying everything I do with it. When it comes to other people, if they don’t have a grasp of logic, I borderline cannot interact with them. I can’t really help it, but I just lose so much respect/admiration for people being unintelligent.
I feel hyper-aware of the people around me (not everyone around me, but those I’m fixated on) and am constantly analyzing and searching for inclinations that: they don’t know logic, are being deceitful, are lying, or being deceptive. I am extremely fixated on figuring out if the person I’m interacting with is being “themselves.” If they aren’t, it’s an immediate loss of respect and admiration. It’s as if I’m automatically gaining the knowledge that this person is less than me because I’m following the code and they aren’t.
I have this code of good behavior, and logic, that I follow very closely. I’m constantly observing other people to see if they deviate from that code. I really try to avoid conflicts with people. They never happen with strangers, but on occasion with people I have been close with. It usually starts with me recognizing a patterned behavior I don’t like, and I either address it, or stir up the conversation to a point where the behavior is inevitably forced to the surface, and must be addressed. I do this with hard facts and logic, and am paying such close attention to every detail — I can’t possibly be caught mixing up my words or being wrong. If someone tells me I’m wrong, they instantly become inferior to me, because they aren’t considering everything I’m considering.
I’ve never ONCE associated any of this with psychopathy until the past few days. A lot of my research showed that psychopaths do lie. They are manipulative, and deceitful — not feeling bad when they wrong someone. This could NOT be me, as I try so hard to be logical and stray from manipulation. I like facts, only.
But then I got to thinking. I DO lie. I lie about substance abuse. I lie about the money I make. The money I spend. I lie about the direction I’m heading in life. I lie about what I want to do. I lie so I can do what I want to do. I lie a fuck-ton, but only as it pertains to me. I don’t lie to gain status in a conversation. I don’t lie to create a power imbalance. I lie so that my world does not come crashing down on me. I’m deceitful towards my mother. Everything I am so meticulous about when it comes to social interaction, is voided when it comes to MY existential future on Earth.
It’s hard for me to understand if this is psychopathy or not. I used to think I had ADHD because of my dysfunction, and because I feel like my brain is very active. But the activity I refer to in my brain, I believe is just rumination. I used to explain to my friends that I have a really good memory, and it’s associated with when I have a strong emotional release. It’s almost like… a photographic memory in the moments surrounding my entrance into a heightened emotional state. I have a diagnosed IQ of over 140, and have always attributed my hyper-awareness, attention to detail, and memory to that. What I’m learning about psychopathy is painting a slightly different picture when I think back to everything I’ve thought about in the past. I thought, more recently, I had OCD. Primarily because I have obsessive thoughts about people and their social intents. These thoughts have been aroused primarily in the last few years, but I wasn’t as aware of them until now. Researching psychopathy leads me to believe I’m ruminating when my emotional state is disturbed.
I’m trying not to confirm my biases, but it is difficult to keep that line clear.
I’ve recently realized I have a bit of an obsession with control. Not that I need to be in control. Rather, other people aren’t in control of themselves, and so I make it my duty to “help” them get in control. I don’t have a lot of great examples of this in real life, because I spend a lot of time in isolation. I’ve done a lot of this virtually in videogames. The worst thing I’ve done, in the sense of establishing control, is I called another kid’s school principal, and left a voicemail lying about how the kid beat up my sister while they were walking home after school. I don’t even have a sister. I wanted it to be established — I am not to fuck with.
Zero guilt. Zero remorse. A tinge of regret due to cognitive empathy. Zero fear of consequence. And there was no consequence.
When it comes to manipulation, I do my best not to manipulate. I have heard from close friends, ex girlfriends, and my mother, that I’m manipulative. In my mind, they have all been 100% completely unjustified and unreasonable when they said it. Looking back, I try to understand where they’re coming from, but I can’t. Either I’m manipulative but have zero idea, or I’m just correct and they were being stupid to suggest that. It sounds so conceited and arrogant writing it out, but at the same time I fully believe it to be true. In my eyes, they’re all manipulators.
Perhaps there are fundamental aspects of psychopathy that are missing from my thought, and I don’t match up to them. An opinion on just… what you think of me, I guess, would be listened to. There’s probably a lot of context that I left out. I can provide it, if need be.
My final thought is, would an undiagnosed psychopath, who believes they’re a psychopath, believe a diagnosed psychopath if they tell them they’re not a psychopath? Thanks for the read.

In high school i got a horrible style, eye infection, and pink eye all at the same time. It was horrible n i hoped it never happened again. Then fast forward to february 2023, i had the same thing happen to me in my left eye. I went to the doctor and got antibiotics and eyedrops, it never fully went away. it'll go away but my left eye lash line will always be slightly irritated, or if i mess my eye it'll water really bad. The worst part is i have HORRIBLE photophobia. Some days I will literally have to pull over while driving. They water and i can't keep them open no matter HOW HARD i try, it hurts so bad. It's been over a year now. I honestly was never taken to the doctor as a kid but I'm thinking i will have to go back for this because it's hard for me to enjoy my time outside anymore, without having to stare at the ground. I will probably go back, but i'm just wondering if anyone has dealt with this so often. Is it even styes at this point? They never even get too big anymore, i can just feel them or when i touch my under eye i can physically feel the ball under the skin. Just looking for some advice or people going through something similar

My boyfriend (25M) and I (29F) have been together for a little over a year. I want to preface this with this is the best relationship I’ve ever been in. He’s attractive, funny and treats me like a queen. However, the issue I’m having is that recently I feel like many of our conversations fall flat and are overall just… boring.
It wasn’t like this when we first got together at all. I felt there was a lot of chemistry, he asked a lot of deep questions, really listened to me and I did the same for him. I felt like there was endless topics for us to discuss and we were genuinely curious about one another. There was a fun banter when we were still getting to know each other.
Now that we know each other better, some of that chemistry is gone. It’s like we’ve both reverted to asking the same basic questions “how was your day?” “what are your plans tonight?” Etc. Sometimes I’ll be in a talkative mood and I’ll inquire about other parts of his life like family, how he is genuinely feeling, and his friends, but he doesn’t go too deep and often doesn’t have much to say and then the convo stops there. Recently I’ve noticed he doesn’t ask me many questions beyond surface level anymore. We spend a lot of time being in silence or just watching tv.
If I’m telling him about one of my interests, sometimes I see his eyes wandering and it’s so apparent he doesn’t care. He’s just waiting for me to stop talking so he can make a comment like “that’s cool baby” and then move on. & just as a disclaimer it is NOT that I won’t stfu, if it’s something I’m passionate about I love to talk deeply about the subject but for the most part I am not a rambler and i am concise with my words. He also has a habit of straight up interrupting me when he does have something to say which adds to my feeling that he actually doesn’t care about what I’m communicating.
We have a few overlapping interests but for the most part we are into different things. Which I didn’t think would be a big deal bc I am genuinely curious about his interests and I love asking him about them but the curiosity doesn’t seem to be reciprocated.
Lately when we’re sittin in silence I feel myself racking my brain about deeper questions to ask him but my brain is just blank. I’m not sure if it’s bc when I try to go deeper he doesn’t have much of a response so I’m just used to that or what the issue is.
What are some deeper questions I can ask to really engage him? How do we get that initial spark of conversation back? Do most relationships get boring after you really know each other? How do I talk to him about this? I want us to be together but deep conversation is so important to me, I need something to reignite this part of our relationship.
tl;dr - conversation with my(29F) boyfriend (25M) has become boring and surface level. He doesn’t ask deep questions and sometimes it feels like he’s completely uninterested when I speak. He doesn’t offer much when I ask him deep questions and this leaves me sitting in silence thinking “what do we talk about??” We used to have an undeniable chemistry, how do I get that back? What questions do I ask him to actually engage him?

Hey everyone I’m selling some records to raise money and pay some bills down. I have lots of sales on Reddit with lots of reviews. All prices include shipping in the US. Please lmk if you’re interested in any and can help me out. Thanks.
Bright Eyes boxset the studio albums 2000-2011 ($220) mint in every way. No record ever played.
Mitski - be the cowboy in Coke bottle green with white handkerchief ($40)
Camp Cope - running with the hurricane on half pink half silver. ($14) still in shrink and mint.
Why? - aokohio on 10” red, blue, and yellow records hand numbered 879/1000 ($30) in mint condition.
Soul Glo - diaspora problems on black and gold half and half ($40) mint and still in the shrink
Ogbert the nerd - I don’t hate you on bumble bee yellow ($25) mint and never played

Everything in my inventory is up for trade. The most valuable items are listed here, the rest you can find in My Inventory

Feel free to Add Me or even better send a Trade Offer. Open for any suggestions: upgrades, downgrades / knives, gloves, skins / stickers, patterns, floats.

All Buyouts are listed in cash value.

KNIVES

★ Butterfly Knife Lore (Factory New), B/O: $7194.77

★ Butterfly Knife Autotronic (Minimal Wear), B/O: $2025.74

⎯

★ M9 Bayonet Ultraviolet (Field-Tested), B/O: $557.87

★ M9 Bayonet Stained (Well-Worn), B/O: $529.41

★ M9 Bayonet Boreal Forest (Field-Tested), B/O: $465.39

⎯

★ Talon Knife Doppler (Factory New), B/O: $1295.27

★ Bayonet Tiger Tooth (Minimal Wear), B/O: $746.28

★ Karambit Bright Water (Field-Tested), B/O: $688.15

⎯

★ Flip Knife Doppler (Factory New), B/O: $547.93

★ Flip Knife Autotronic (Minimal Wear), B/O: $476.69

★ Flip Knife Case Hardened (Battle-Scarred), B/O: $278.18

★ Flip Knife Black Laminate (Well-Worn), B/O: $258.83

★ Flip Knife Urban Masked (Field-Tested), B/O: $181.64

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★ Stiletto Knife Marble Fade (Factory New), B/O: $686.04

★ Stiletto Knife Doppler (Factory New), B/O: $665.41

★ Stiletto Knife, B/O: $601.39

★ Stiletto Knife Crimson Web (Field-Tested), B/O: $418.25

★ Stiletto Knife Night Stripe (Field-Tested), B/O: $227.80

★ Stiletto Knife Boreal Forest (Field-Tested), B/O: $194.96

★ Stiletto Knife Safari Mesh (Field-Tested), B/O: $192.79

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★ Nomad Knife Crimson Web (Field-Tested), B/O: $518.11

★ Nomad Knife Scorched (Field-Tested), B/O: $169.78

★ Nomad Knife Forest DDPAT (Battle-Scarred), B/O: $166.88

★ StatTrak™ Nomad Knife Blue Steel (Field-Tested), B/O: $335.79

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★ Skeleton Knife Stained (Well-Worn), B/O: $442.05

★ Skeleton Knife Urban Masked (Minimal Wear), B/O: $426.24

★ Skeleton Knife Boreal Forest (Field-Tested), B/O: $314.03

★ StatTrak™ Skeleton Knife Fade (Minimal Wear), B/O: $2361.28

★ StatTrak™ Skeleton Knife Urban Masked (Field-Tested), B/O: $376.53

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★ Ursus Knife Doppler (Factory New), B/O: $557.12

★ Ursus Knife, B/O: $471.42

★ Ursus Knife Blue Steel (Minimal Wear), B/O: $212.37

★ Ursus Knife Case Hardened (Battle-Scarred), B/O: $187.66

★ Ursus Knife Damascus Steel (Field-Tested), B/O: $178.18

★ Ursus Knife Ultraviolet (Battle-Scarred), B/O: $155.13

★ Ursus Knife Boreal Forest (Battle-Scarred), B/O: $124.26

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★ Huntsman Knife Black Laminate (Minimal Wear), B/O: $204.83

★ Huntsman Knife Black Laminate (Field-Tested), B/O: $184.50

★ StatTrak™ Huntsman Knife Lore (Battle-Scarred), B/O: $224.11

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★ Bowie Knife Gamma Doppler (Factory New), B/O: $2142.02

★ Bowie Knife, B/O: $230.44

★ Bowie Knife Damascus Steel (Factory New), B/O: $209.20

★ Bowie Knife Ultraviolet (Minimal Wear), B/O: $180.51

★ Bowie Knife Ultraviolet (Field-Tested), B/O: $131.03

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★ Falchion Knife Night (Field-Tested), B/O: $132.54

★ Falchion Knife Urban Masked (Well-Worn), B/O: $112.81

★ Falchion Knife Scorched (Field-Tested), B/O: $108.81

★ Falchion Knife Forest DDPAT (Field-Tested), B/O: $107.82

★ Falchion Knife Safari Mesh (Field-Tested), B/O: $107.46

★ StatTrak™ Falchion Knife Ultraviolet (Field-Tested), B/O: $143.08

⎯

★ Paracord Knife Crimson Web (Minimal Wear), B/O: $486.48

★ Paracord Knife Blue Steel (Battle-Scarred), B/O: $163.12

⎯

★ Survival Knife Blue Steel (Battle-Scarred), B/O: $138.26

★ Survival Knife Night Stripe (Field-Tested), B/O: $131.03

⎯

★ Gut Knife Sapphire (Minimal Wear), B/O: $1127.79

★ Gut Knife Gamma Doppler (Factory New), B/O: $286.17

★ Gut Knife Doppler (Factory New), B/O: $246.55

★ Gut Knife Marble Fade (Factory New), B/O: $240.77

★ Gut Knife, B/O: $210.49

★ Gut Knife Lore (Field-Tested), B/O: $194.22

★ Gut Knife Case Hardened (Battle-Scarred), B/O: $151.51

★ Gut Knife Blue Steel (Minimal Wear), B/O: $124.94

★ Gut Knife Rust Coat (Well-Worn), B/O: $118.99

★ Gut Knife Boreal Forest (Minimal Wear), B/O: $109.80

★ StatTrak™ Gut Knife Doppler (Factory New), B/O: $237.96

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★ Shadow Daggers Gamma Doppler (Factory New), B/O: $264.92

★ Shadow Daggers Marble Fade (Factory New), B/O: $253.03

★ Shadow Daggers Tiger Tooth (Factory New), B/O: $237.22

★ Shadow Daggers Crimson Web (Field-Tested), B/O: $153.40

★ Shadow Daggers Autotronic (Minimal Wear), B/O: $144.42

★ Shadow Daggers Blue Steel (Field-Tested), B/O: $105.20

★ StatTrak™ Shadow Daggers Damascus Steel (Minimal Wear), B/O: $150.46

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★ Navaja Knife Fade (Factory New), B/O: $365.99

★ Navaja Knife Doppler (Factory New), B/O: $228.93

★ Navaja Knife Marble Fade (Factory New), B/O: $227.43

★ Navaja Knife Slaughter (Factory New), B/O: $209.06

★ Navaja Knife, B/O: $203.16

★ Navaja Knife Case Hardened (Well-Worn), B/O: $132.57

★ Navaja Knife Damascus Steel (Factory New), B/O: $121.69

★ Navaja Knife Damascus Steel (Minimal Wear), B/O: $109.95

★ Navaja Knife Damascus Steel (Field-Tested), B/O: $100.41

★ StatTrak™ Navaja Knife Fade (Factory New), B/O: $369.01

★ StatTrak™ Navaja Knife Damascus Steel (Field-Tested), B/O: $109.95

GLOVES

★ Sport Gloves Amphibious (Minimal Wear), B/O: $2394.67

★ Sport Gloves Omega (Well-Worn), B/O: $572.33

★ Sport Gloves Bronze Morph (Minimal Wear), B/O: $338.88

★ Sport Gloves Big Game (Field-Tested), B/O: $323.66

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★ Specialist Gloves Marble Fade (Minimal Wear), B/O: $1652.07

★ Specialist Gloves Tiger Strike (Field-Tested), B/O: $599.14

★ Specialist Gloves Crimson Web (Well-Worn), B/O: $231.57

★ Specialist Gloves Buckshot (Minimal Wear), B/O: $126.21

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★ Moto Gloves POW! (Minimal Wear), B/O: $996.99

★ Moto Gloves POW! (Field-Tested), B/O: $383.31

★ Moto Gloves POW! (Well-Worn), B/O: $276.00

★ Moto Gloves Turtle (Field-Tested), B/O: $180.28

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★ Hand Wraps CAUTION! (Minimal Wear), B/O: $502.29

★ Hand Wraps Giraffe (Minimal Wear), B/O: $180.73

★ Hand Wraps CAUTION! (Battle-Scarred), B/O: $178.32

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★ Driver Gloves Queen Jaguar (Minimal Wear), B/O: $181.01

★ Driver Gloves Rezan the Red (Field-Tested), B/O: $101.66

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★ Broken Fang Gloves Jade (Field-Tested), B/O: $127.88

★ Broken Fang Gloves Needle Point (Minimal Wear), B/O: $124.55

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★ Bloodhound Gloves Guerrilla (Minimal Wear), B/O: $127.94

★ Hydra Gloves Case Hardened (Field-Tested), B/O: $102.55

WEAPONS

AK-47 X-Ray (Well-Worn), B/O: $478.95

AUG Hot Rod (Factory New), B/O: $425.83

StatTrak™ M4A1-S Hyper Beast (Factory New), B/O: $413.95

M4A4 Daybreak (Factory New), B/O: $309.51

StatTrak™ AK-47 Aquamarine Revenge (Factory New), B/O: $305.43

AK-47 Case Hardened (Well-Worn), B/O: $196.38

StatTrak™ M4A4 Temukau (Minimal Wear), B/O: $174.64

P90 Run and Hide (Field-Tested), B/O: $167.03

AWP Asiimov (Field-Tested), B/O: $153.33

Souvenir SSG 08 Death Strike (Minimal Wear), B/O: $140.00

M4A1-S Printstream (Battle-Scarred), B/O: $124.70

StatTrak™ M4A1-S Golden Coil (Field-Tested), B/O: $117.48

AWP Asiimov (Well-Worn), B/O: $115.97

StatTrak™ Desert Eagle Printstream (Minimal Wear), B/O: $112.96

StatTrak™ AK-47 Asiimov (Minimal Wear), B/O: $110.85

Souvenir M4A1-S Master Piece (Well-Worn), B/O: $102.42

AK-47 Bloodsport (Minimal Wear), B/O: $100.53

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This review is based on an eARC (Advance Reading Copy) provided by the publisher via NetGalley in exchange for an honest review and can also be found on my blog. Navola will be released on July 9, 2024.
Paolo Bacigalupi is an author that hit big while I was in a reading hiatus. I missed the boat, but I’ve been meaning to circle back around and try his stuff. And while I don’t read quite as many big, fat fantasies as I used to, I still have a soft spot for them. So when I saw he was releasing an intricate historical fantasy with plenty of backstabbing and politics, I thought Navola was a great opportunity to give his work a try.
Navola takes place in a heavily Italian-inspired fantasy world and follows the son of a powerful banking family as he struggles to live up to the cunning intelligence of his father and grandfather. It’s a slow build, following the lead from childhood into adolescence and early adulthood, and though the dragon eye on the cover is more than just window dressing, the story leans much more to the historical fantasy than to the magical. This is without a doubt a book for fans of politics and scheming.
As perhaps should be unsurprising, Navola starts laying the groundwork for the political plots very quickly, but it takes a long time for the lead or the reader to really grasp the shape of things. The lead is long on empathy and short on ambition, and though he tries to be a dutiful son, none of the political maneuvering really comes naturally. And so we see his adolescence—the lessons, the friendships, the horniness, the doubts about his chosen path, all of it. And while it may not be clear exactly where the story is going during that time, it’s clear enough that it is indeed going somewhere, and the quality of the prose is high enough that reading never feels like a chore, even when the plot is opaque.
And when the big seeds of plotting come due, they do so in a rush of blood and thunder that makes the book almost impossible to put down. There are times where the reader may see twists coming before the naive narrator does, but not so early that it spoils the tension or prevents those big moments from being utterly engrossing.
For readers in search of sympathetic characters, there aren’t many. The lead’s empathy makes him one of the likeliest, but his adolescence shows off as much or more self-centeredness as you’d expect from a teenager, and the world is desperate to shape him into a manipulator who trusts no one and loves no one outside his own family. Make no mistake, this is a book written for those seeking a tale that’s short on goodness and trust and long on manipulation and violence. It gets dark—there’s backstabbing, torture, sexual violence—but it’s certainly entertaining always waiting to see which twist is happening next.
Navola also isn’t an end to the story. In many ways, this is a book focused on shaping the main character to be what he needs to be for the rest of the series. A lot happens from a plot perspective, but it’s not a book that ends on a hero having accomplished his primary goal. There are significant character and plot arcs that more than justify Navola being its own book and not a mere piece of another book, but it’s absolutely designed as a series-starter.
So should you read this book? Well, it depends on what you’re after. Thematically, it has plenty to say on how the hunger for power and wealth creates a world of violence and mistrust, but those aren’t exactly observations you can’t find explored just as well elsewhere. Really, this depends on what kind of fantasy you enjoy. If you’re a fan of dark, gritty political fantasy and don’t mind buckling up for a slow-building series of doorstoppers, step right up. That’s what Bacigalupi is going for, and his writing quality is on full display. But if that isn’t your style, this probably isn’t a book that’s going to change your mind. It does an excellent job of being what it wants to be, but it’s not out to transform a subgenre. Perhaps there’s a shift with the sequels–it certainly wouldn’t be the first series that started playing firmly within the existing expectations and branched out as the series progressed–but Navola as a novel is one for the fans of darkness and intrigue.
Recommended if you like: historical fantasy, schemes and politics, books with no clear heroes.
Can I use it for Bingo? It’s hard mode for Disability, and it’s also very obviously meant to be First in a Series, plus it’s Published in 2024, contains Dreams, Reference Materials, and a segment Under the Surface.
Overall rating: 17 of Tar Vol’s 20. Five stars on Goodreads.

• Author's Note: So! With Book #1 finishing at Issue #61 we now go into Book #2. The situation is changed for our protagonist and he's had it... decently rough, but always had people behind him for help. Wonder how his new position will affect him and his choices? We'll have to wait and see. Enjoy this little snippet to start us off with to the next leg of his journey! Also you can check character art of the Beast World characters or others on my Ko-Fi page! If you enjoy my art, I just opened comissions as well so hit me up if you want to get a piece!

Michael stepped through the dark woods at a slightly above leisure pace. The first rays of the dawn's light haven't yet penetrated the ironclad cover of the forest's canopy. Its thickness held together the shroud of darkness below, only small shreds of it peaking through rarely. Although he knew he walked a familiar path, the reduced visibility made the walk nearly alien, with a stumble here and a trip there, an uncertainty started to seep into Michael's chest even if he didn't know it.
'Alright. It is going to take a bit to get there, but I'll be making it in time. So... daeman. Based on what I know they are just basically pink demons. Ok, ok, ok... I've done this until now on a dime... I just... phew... just gotta do my character research. Yeah... just like theater. Literally it is just theatrics. So... what's a demon? Well if years of playing dnd thought me anything is that they are either feral, unhinged and nuts OR eerily calm, imposing, calculated and scheeming. I did both of those and a demon that can do both is even worse. Just gotta switch between those when it makes sense. Mhmm... so personality wise... basically gotta switch between one of those pointy eared muscle covered hounds and a chihuahua that can actually bite, not just bark.'
While the nervous human revised his 'role', he'd already start to adjust his body language. As if by instinct he'd lift his shoulders and roll them back, his spine popping as he straightened, shoulders relaxing and dropping at ease after that. This move would straighten his posture entirely and push out his ribcage and chest, something his mother drilled into his head over the years as being a confident, yet relaxed posture when done right. He'd straighten his head's posture, from the neck, which nearly made him look like it was positioned up from a downward perspective, requiring him to literally look down upon someone with his eyes. His hands were curled up nearing to fists, yet hung relaxed, as if to show an eager readiness for violence. As a last touch up instead of stepping quietly as he got used to over the years, he'd let his steps announce his presence, as one who's afraid of nothing would.
After traveling a bit over half of the treck towards the river and where the Rock Backs would be situated, there would be a clear sight of lights up ahead in the distance, clearly from torches. Michael would gaze at them with a bit of confusion, but regardless he kept on walking closer and openly. Slowly, three figures would be more visible, one of them turned showing as to either be themselves striped or have brown stripes painted on their back.
Only half a second of hesitation would pass as the human took in a deep breath and he then shouted out. "Ay! You three. You're with the Rock Backs, correct?" He'd say while showing quite the enthusiastic face despite his true feelings of nervousness.
As he had guessed, indeed the trio seemed to be Tuskir and the stripes confirmed their alegiance as expected. The figures turned to face him properly as he shouted in his approach. Once he got a bit closer, one of them that was a bit more upfront huffed a not so pleased snort at him.
"Aye. We were sent ahead to guide ya to our encampment, Daeman." He replied with a clear displeasure to his tone.
Another one of them stood silent as he just glared at Michael, while the third let out a guttural squeal and spat on the ground. "Well? What ya waitin' fer, hellspawn? Pick up the pace and keep yer paws where we can see 'em. Just cause ya struck a deal with Bruyza, it don't mean we gotta like ya."
"Dawww. Isn't this nice? We already seem to be getting along and on the same page. I've a feeling we'll be sharing stories soon while braidin' one another's hair, eh? You'd look good with twin tails." Michael said smirking while looking at the third Tuskir who haf a wilder mane and carried himself in a heavier looking armor than the other two.
The human continued his walk with the trio, but something didn't sit right with him. While they walked, two of the three had put out and discarded their torches. As they walked forward wordlessly, those same two boar men would also position themself to the sides and back of Michael, doing so nearly seemlessly, but not enough for the human not to notice.
While they advanced, Michael would peek at them with the corners of his eyes while also glancing forward at the only one who still had a light source. 'This doesn't feel right. I know for certain we were to meet at the same place as before... am I being paranoid? Alright... think. If they were afraid I'd not show up they'd wait until the time was up and then came to us... there's no reason for them to think I need escorts since I'm supposed to be a big scary strong thing. Eeeeh... why are these shmucks here then?"
Michael started taking into consideration multiple reasons that could be possible for his unexpected escort to be present, but none of them made sense. With his uneasiness building up, he'd sling his backpack off and hold it, quickly getting the attention of the two at the back.
"What do you think yer doin', hellspawn?" One of them asked while putting a hand on an axe hung by his belt.
"Hm? Oh, cut down on that paranoia. Makes you seem pathetic. This meat form I had to take to be here has needs. One of them happens to be water. If you've ever heard of somethin' like that, or... what? Do you milk rocks up in the mountains to sustain yourselves?" Michael would reply with a chuckle as he taunted his escort while starting to rustle objects in his backpack with his hand.
"You... hnngh-..." The Rock Back grunted and huffed as he muttered between clenched teeth.
Taking advantage of this momentary distraction, Michael would feel about and find one of his tiny Woh flask potions and he'd use his fingers to tuck it into the band of his bracer at the wrist, before grasping a hold of a small water skin and pulling it out. 'Heh. Well, I might not be a good slight of hand at pocker, but I didn't learn to hide pieces of paper in my sleeves for nothing. Stressful, but thanks to that I passed chemistry in highschool.' He'd think while smirking at the one of the escort he just antagonized, giving him a double eyebrow wiggle lift up as he took a sip of his water.
"You really like talkin' daeman, or you just like the sound o' your voice?" The armored one asked, who also happened to be the one with the torch at the front. He walked with his back turned at the human, not even trying to gaze back as he spoke.
"Eh. I find conversing with you meat sacks at least a bit intriguing. It is fun to hear what thoughts run through those narrow minds of yours. Why are you asking? Interested in actually entertaining me in conversation?" Michael would reply as he packed his waterskin once more and put his backpack back on.
"Thought ta meself it'd be crazy to converse with somethin' like ya, but then I realized, what da hell, when am I ta get another chance like this?" The Tuskir continued while slowing his pace, as if to let Michael approach to make their talk easier to get into.
The human naturally inched closer bit by bit as he simply walked, his smirk still on his expression. He'd keep vigilent of the two in the back while moving up in the small formation. "Indeed. Perhaps I'll be able to satisfy some of your curio-"
Before he could finish his sentence, the armored tuskir in front of him stopped dead in his tracks, turning with a decently large vial of liquid and herbs in his other hand and he'd splash Michael right in the face. Surprised by the sudden violent spill of liquid against his face, the human would close his eyes and bring his hands to his face to quickly wipe away the liquid. While blinded in this manner, his guard would be shattered as a brutal force would then slam into his right side, making Michael buckle as he got sent rolling in the opposite direction.
"HAHAHA! GOT 'IM GOOD, DIDN' I?!" exclaimed one of the two Tuskir from the back, who was armed with a club, right after he just bashed up the human.
Michael took a half second to realize he just got attacked, with the hand that had the vial hidden against its wrist pushup to his eyes to wipe them, he'd push himself up on the other wobbly like. He was afraid to try and open his eyes, unknowing what he got splashed with so instead he bit on the cork of his poison vial, opened it and stashed it in his cheek, as he dripped the solution on his tongue while wiping his eyes. "I- I can't see-..." he groaned loudly while trying to get his footing.
"Yeah. You got 'im good." The armored tuskir said while tossing the vial aside. "Better prepare yourself fer a sudden departure daeman. We'll make sure ta send ya back to the firey pit ya came from. Hope ya liked a lil' taste o' holy water. Keep ya well on your way back." He'd say while taking a handaxe off of his own belt.
"Hah ha ha... Sadly fer ya, not all o' us are keen on makin' deals with hell filth. Bruyza ain' gonn' be happy with ya missin' but is expected of daemen to be shifty scum, so yer missin' presence will be easy ta explain when we're all... surprised yer missin', he he he... ." The tuskir who Michael antagonized said while snorting and cackling, unsheathing his handaxe at the ready.
The three began closing in on Michael, their gate relaxed as they taunted him, their confidence in having the upperhand letting them ooze with a gloating energy. Michael instead had finally gathered himself, head tilted back as he held onto his face, having just finished the last few drips of the Woh vial.
"I can't see... how you furred fucks didn't think that'd just piss me off." He'd say as his trembling voice would change to one more confident. As he spoke he lowered his head at a way lower angle, pulling his hand down in the same motion to reveal a pair of bloodshot eyes, as well as a bloody dripping nose and a wide toothy grin, stained by his own crimson. The shadows on his face would make it seem like he bared his teeth from ear to ear, the expression of the pin point focused eyes, quickly darting to focus on each of the three attackers. Now, that put a stop to their enclosing movement, and this simple shift had changed their confident gloating to a dread filled uncertainty.