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https://imgur.com/a/L46Fcsw
14.5 Hanson profile BA mid-length, BCM handguard, Wilson Combat upper, DA keymo break- $475 OBO or trade for 18/20in complete upper
Cross Machine Tool Handguard- never fired, but the barrel nut has some ooga booga marks on it from me using a spanner wrench- $100
Assorted 43/43x holsters- $15 for the stand alones (one non-light bearing, one tlr6), $40 for the rigs (one non-light bearing, one tlr6) ** let me know if you are new to carrying and we can work out a deal**
Amazon bump with peltor tac 100s- basic bump for an entry nod user, worked fine with my pvs14. One bungee broke. I can include the headband with the ear pro if need be. Held in place by amazon arms- $80 OBO
LAS Ronin 3.0- g17/19 with X300/ XH35. Missing one screw on the belt loop. $75 OBO

https://steamcommunity.com/app/513710/discussions/7/3829788180805373546/ +1 on the steam suggestions page if you want.
Scum is a game that has always prided itself on realism and immersion, but there's one aspect of the game that misses the mark-the health and armor system. Right now, the ttk is way too fast, there are no real injuries besides simple hp loss, and body armor is like tissue paper. Some players chose to fight without armor because it doesn't even make much of a difference.
That's why I'm proposing a fully realistic health and armor system:

Separate HP regions for different body parts, with different damage multipliers, which all contribute to a global hp, and hit boxes for the vital organs - brain, heart, lungs, and gut. A shot to the heart or brain should instantly kill you. A shot to the lungs should rapidly drain your stamina, cause extensive blood loss, and kill you quickly, but not instantly. A shot to the gut should cause a slow death, through a combination of blood loss, and the release of gut bacteria into your bloodstream, resulting in septicemia, and finally sepsis, resulting in death if you don't take antibiotics in time.
A distinction between damage that is, and isn't acutely lethal. Instead of guaranteeing instant kill shots to the limbs after just 1 or 2 hits, make it so that damage to limbs, and other non-vital areas results in progressive levels of impairment, blood loss, and dysfunction, along with relevant negative status effects. For example, a critically damaged arm or leg will just stop working. Blood loss from any part of the body should still lower global hp and impair your character in some way. Upon reaching a catastrophic level, blood loss should lead to unconsciousness, and eventually death. For example, getting shot in the thigh with a shotgun slug would immediately disable that leg, probably fracture your femur, and cause severe bleeding, which would render your character unconscious in less than a minute. You would be forced to seek cover while hopping on one leg and rapidly bleeding out, or just laying on the ground and fighting it out from there. You're still probably dead, but at least you'd have a small chance at fighting back instead of being instantly killed.
Character voice lines, like coughing, grunting, screaming, and wheezing, to let you know how badly you've been injured, or how badly your opponent is injured. Lung shots could cause coughing, wheezing, and gurgling, and flesh wounds would cause screams and grunts. This would make fights more interesting. For instance, If I hear wheezing, I'd know that I've lung shot someone, and I can play more carefully, allowing them to run out of stamina and collapse before I move in for the kill.
A realistic, tiered body armor system, with accurate regional protection. There should be armor rated to stop every caliber in the game except for 50 BMG. If you're wearing body armor, it should stop all damage in the region the plate is protecting, but only if it's rated to stop the specific caliber of the bullet. Contrary to what some believe, modern body armor is highly effective at stopping multiple hits from whatever it is rated to stop.

Right now, Scum's PVP is plagued with the meta of naked bunny-hopping, mag-dumping, laser beaming, 10 ms ttk Neo from the matrix warriors abusing third person peeking through foliage, and jumping around in the open to spot people. It looks and feels terrible, and doesn't fit the hardcore, realistic theme of the game. Simply adding a realistic health and armor system, and also removing the bunny hopping, maybe even replacing it with legitimate and realistic movement mechanics like sliding, diving, and rolling would dramatically improve the quality of PVP in Scum, making fights more unpredictable, dynamic, and immersive, and the game would become substantially more popular.
Imagine this scenario playing out in the world of Scum:
Two players are sprinting toward an airdrop, and unexpectedly cross paths. The first player spots the second 20 meters away, and wasting no time, he pulls out his shotgun, aims at the second player, and opens fire. The loud shotgun blasts echo through the air as buckshot tears through both his legs, and left arm, but misses the vitals, as it is stopped by his body armor. The second player gets folded, his legs buckling beneath him, as he groans in pain. The cruel attacker laughs over voice chat, taunting his crippled victim, as he slowly approaches to finish the job.
The second player is rapidly bleeding out and immobilized, but he isn't out of the fight yet. He musters all of his strength and reaches for his pistol with his right arm, snatching it from his holster. The excruciating pain and his awkward position make it hard for him to steady his aim, but he knows fighting back is his only chance to survive.
He fires a long volley of shots at his attacker, emptying his magazine, a true Hail Mary. As fate would have it, his assailant was unarmored, and one 9 mm round happened to strike him in each lung. The first player, surprised at this reversal of fortune, coughs, and wheezes as his lungs fill with blood, he struggles to breathe as he stumbles backward, trying to run away. As he tries to run, he can feel his strength leaving him. He struggles to catch his breath, as his legs start to feel heavy and numb. He stumbles and falls, violently coughing up blood as his lungs collapse. Furthermore, he feels his consciousness slipping away as his vision fades to black, and his final thoughts are of regret for underestimating his opponent's resolve.
The victim is now the victor, but victory is short-lived. Suddenly he hears the revving of engines in the distance, a gang of heavily armed bikers. "Damn vultures," he says to himself, as he scrambles to secure tourniquets to his bleeding legs and arms, grunting in pain as he pours absinthe over his wounds, and shovels painkillers down his gullet. Through searing pain and crippling fatigue, he clumsily crawls into the forest like a bisected worm, in hopes of hiding from the hostiles.
This is the kind of brutally realistic combat scenario that this proposed health and armor system would bring to scum.

TLDR: I'm proposing a fully realistic health and armor system: Separate HP regions for different body parts, with different damage multipliers, and hit boxes for the vital organs, A distinction between damage that is, and isn't acutely lethal, character voice lines, like coughing, grunting, screaming, and wheezing, to let you know how badly you've been injured, or how badly your opponent is injured, and a realistic, tiered body armor system with accurate regional protection.

I am 18, bi, and a woman. I've never really felt like "a woman", rather just always accepted that that is what I am, never thought too much about it, until it was suggested to me recently.
I don't experience any gender dysphoria. I do however experience a weird feeling of impostor syndrome whenever I do anything feminine, such as wear a dress, put on nail polish, or even just carry a purse. I feel like I'm deceiving someone and like I'm not a real woman.
I have a really hard time connecting to other women. Ever since I was a kid, most other girls shunned and excluded me, and I found it harder to relate to them, but fit in pretty well with boys and hung out with them more. I had a pretty bad "not like other girls" phase.
I had a few other signs throughout childhood, like referring to myself with male verb conjugations (my native language has male and female words) incessantly even after being corrected because it felt better, feeling very proud for having a deeper voice than other girls, also for having hairier legs.
But when I think about being a guy, I don't really have an "aha!" moment where I know that's what I am. I just kind of feel fear and panic (along the lines of "but what if I transition and realize Im not actually trans? What if my family rejects me? What if my friends stop talking to me?). I don't feel particularly like a woman, but I don't really care. I don't feel non binary either. I just feel confused, I guess.
I'm also autistic which contributes to not being able to connect with others very well. I also had a problematic childhood, so it is also hard to separate what my family would think from my own reality.
Edit to add - I realize I didn't ask any questions or anything so just wanted to add, is there anything else besides being trans that I should explore as a cause for these feelings? And, does my experience make sense if I'm transgender? And any other pointers people can give, I just feel lost so any guidance at all is appreciated

It's time to try to send these holsters to a new loving home, instead of sitting in my closet. All prices are half off retail, and I am entertaining offers on any of them.
Pictures: https://imgur.com/a/JYCtyis
The Items:

CompTac Warrior OWB holsters for Sig P365/365X/365XL - $20
Vedder LightTuck IWB Glock 48/43X - $35
Tenicor ARX OWB for Glock 48/43X - $50
ANR LIghtbearing OWB for CZ P01 with Inforce APL-C - $45
SOLD 2x Wilson Combat 9mm Elite Tactical magazines (9 rounds) - ~~$40 for both~~. SOLD
Black Arch Holsters Protos-M IWB for CZ P07 - $55
Mitch Rosen Express Line 5JR for 4" 1911 - $40
CompTac Warrior OWB holsters for Sig P365/365X/365XL - $20 (I have two of these)
Mitch Rosen Express Line 5JR for CZ 75 Compact/PCR - $40
Mystery (I cannot remember the manufacturer) AIWB holster with Ulticlip for S&W Shield - $15
CompTac dual 1911 single stack mag carrier with paddle - $30
SOLD ANR LIghtbearing OWB for CZ P01 with TLR7/7A - ~~$45~~ SOLD
NEW Package Deal: TLR-1 HL + LAS Concealment Saya 2.0 for Staccato C/C2/P with TLR-1 in Black Multicam $150 for both. $50 for the holster alone.

Shipping will be $9 to CONUS via Priority Mail. Paypal with NO notes or Venmo accepted. Thanks for checking them out.

***Continued from "Maelstrom's Fall"***
***PART ONE "ARRIVAL" https://www.reddit.com/WorldEaters40k/comments/11xgva0/home_brew_warband_short_story_arrival/*** PART TWO "MAELSTROM'S FALL" https://www.reddit.com/WorldEaters40k/comments/11xya5u/home_brew_warband_short_story_maelstroms_fall_cc/

Inquisitor Hague narrowly sidestepped the downward swing of a towering Khorne Berserker. The warrior’s screaming Eviscerator Chainaxe struck the gore drenched ground of the trench with a splash. Hague was showered in crimson blood and bits of bone as the Berserker ripped his roaring weapon back up into the air for another chopping strike. As the Slaughter Lord raised the massive instrument of death over his head with both hands, Inquisitor Hague pointed his left index finger at the Berserker’s face. The fingertip opened and a flash erupted. The Berserker’s helmet visor exploded as the shot penetrated deep through the heretic’s eye socket. The whirring projectile churned the contents of the traitor’s cranial cavity into the same soup of the same consistency as the dozens of guardsmen who now made up the knee deep gore within the trench lines of Flag Hill. The armored giant went limp and fell back against the trench wall. The corpse slid down into the mud and ichor.
“Blood! Skulls! Slaughter!” A score of voices bellowed. At the last word a score of Jakhals dropped down into the trench.
Inquisitor Hague’s plasma pistol steamed from the heat as he fired down the trench line at the muscle bound cultists wading through the thick crimson quagmire of coagulating gore. The huge, roaring men fell one after the other. The plasma coils nearly overheated and reached their limit. He cursed to himself as he holstered the pistol and drew his curved sword. The blade hissed as its energy field activated. Though the machine spirit within was desperate for heretic blood, its thirst would not be quenched here.
“For the Emprah!” Roared Brontus through his gas mask as he dropped into the trench.
A cacophonous booming drowned out the ritualistic war cries of the heretics and Brontus laughed giddily as the Jakhals exploded in blossoms of fire, blood, and bone. Twenty one rounds fired full auto from Brontus’s Ripper Gun tore through the remaining Khorne worshippers before they could lay a finger on the Inquisitor.“Dat was vereh fun!” Brontus exclaimed excitedly.“You’re late Brontus!” Hague responded. Brontus could not recognize the aggravation in Hague’s voice.“Me Pologies sah! Twas many bad’ns sah! I’m tellin ya the truths! I made dem pay for not lovin da Emprah! Believe me I did, sah!” Brontus stated proudly as he slammed a fresh magazine into his Ripper Gun.Hague knew the Bone’ead Bullgryn was too simple to lie and it was no surprise Brontus had encountered trouble on his way to lower trenches. Hundreds of Khornate soldiers had overrun Maelstrom Air Base in minutes, and in the hours since then their numbers had swelled to the thousands. Heretic Astartes, cultists, grotesque warp spawns, and monstrously twisted daemon engines had also reinforced the attackers. Now they assaulted the trenches of Flag Hill. Hague had been working for months to identify and purge this tithe sector of Heretic infiltrators, and learned too late of the Chaos Alliance’s plans to assault Grey Falls. So late in fact that he had mere minutes to warn the ground and orbital forces and order the redirection of fresh troops to the city. The requisitioned landers full of troops and armor had barely begun to land when the hellish forces of the Slaughter Lords had launched their surprise attack.
Only the Maelstrom Air Base was unable to activate their gellar force fields in time to prevent a lightning teleportation strike. The base commanders were presumed dead when the ritual warcry of the Slaughter Lords began broadcasting over all vox links in the area. Less than an hour after the fall of Maelstrom Air Base, the Slaughter Lords had begun assailing Flag Hill. Flag Hill was named for the gigantic standard of the Astra Militarum which had been raised near the top of the hill. The hill was a formidable strongpoint topped with a high walled compound, a tiered trench system, anti air defense towers, a void shield projector, and a command bunker complex deep that ran deep below the hill. It was within that command bunker complex that Inquisitor Hague had learned of the enemy plan through interrogations of traitors who had been serving in the ranks of the local defense forces. Instruments and arrays that would have detected the approaching enemy were severely compromised, resulting in the complete loss of Maelstrom Air Base to the surprise attack. Despite his purging of traitors from the Militarum ranks, Hague knew there were still dozens of traitors and plans yet to be revealed.
Inquisitor Hague found one such group of traitors in the trench lines. The three men had killed their comrades and were planning to detonate a virus bomb to clear the defenders from the trenches. Inquisitor Hague summarily executed two of the traitors while Brontus pursued the third.
And so he came to find himself on the frontlines, shoring up the gap in the defenses where the lone Slaughter Lord Berserker had slaughtered three full squads of PDF guardsmen. That slaughter had opened the way for scores of Jakhal cultists to run amok within the perimeter and provoked Hague’s direct intervention.The trenches had been ravaged by the waves of heretics that crashed against the defenders again and again. They would not survive another assault. Hague and Brontus had to retreat. Hague knew now was the best time to do so. The enemy was massing for their next wave and he would be covered by the overlapping fields of fire from the upper defenses of Flag Hill.“All right Brontus,”Hague sighed, “I believe you. Now let’s get going, we’re heading back up.”“Aye sah!” Brontus replied as he knelt down.
Hague climbed atop the back of Brontus, hanging on to the huge slab shield that was maglocked to Brontus’s back. Brontus moved at a quick pace, and stayed low as heavy bolter rounds and las fire zoomed by the two Inquisitorial agents, finding their marks in the flesh and armor of the few scattered Heretics that strayed too far from their own lines.
Reaching the hilltop, Hague jumped from Brontus’s back and they made their way through the lines of trenches and sandbag defenses, past the mortar pits and heavy weapon emplacements, and through the gates of the fort. Brontus gathered up armfuls of rations from the chow hall and gorged himself on nutrient gruel rations while he followed Hague into the depths of the command bunker complex.Hague knew Flag Hill would fall, and all within would die. So he set about directing the defenders of the bunker complex to positions that would maximize the losses the Chaos forces would have to suffer to take the complex.Within the hour Slaughter Lords assault began anew. The Maelstrom Air Base’s anti air defense had been firing non stop since the Khornate horde captured them, and the airspace was now clear of Imperial aircraft. From Maelstrom two dozen missile bays launched their contents into the sky. As the missiles neared the range of Flag Hill’s defense batteries, the missiles each split into dozens of small plasma barrage shells. The void shields over the hilltop shimmered as blue fireballs of plasma erupted on their surface.
For close to a minute the light of the overhead detonations persisted, blinding the defenders to the advancing tide of World Eaters. Half a dozen land raider transports and a dozen smaller Rhino transports sped ahead of thousands of Jakhal cultists, writhing warp spawn, lumbering helbrutes, and a myriad of other monstrosities.
The transports were 800 meters and closing.
The mortar pits erupted in a choir of thumping as rounds were launched at a frantic pace. Dozens of explosions launched hundreds of broken-bodied heretics into the air.
700 meters.
A land raider suffered a lascannon hit and erupted into flame and billowing smoke. The rest of the transports activated their forward smoke launchers, masking their approach for another few seconds.
600 meters.
Two Rhinos stopped, having been turned into burning wrecks after lances of red energy blew through them. The survivors climbed their way out and were blown apart by the defenders’ heavy bolters and autocannons.
500 meters.
The remaining land raider’s begin firing their Soulshatter Lascannons. Anti air defense towers crumble and heavy weapons emplacements go up in ground shaking detonations of their munitions.
400 meters.
Shoulder mounted launchers send smoke trailed missiles at the oncoming World Eaters transports.
300 meters.
Crimson armoured warriors climbed up to man the mounted storm bolter found atop each vehicle. They followed the smoke trails of the shoulder mounted launchers and their expertly placed shots blew apart the guardsmen before they could rearm their launchers.
200 meters.
Officers barked orders whilst Commissars and Sergeants encouraged their troops to fight to the last. Ministorum Priests yelled their sermons over the noise of battle and fluttering cherubs wafted incense smoke over the defenders. The defenders continued firing all they had.100 meters.The defender’s punishing fire had neither stopped nor even slowed what was about to come. Most guardsmen knew and didn’t care. They would gladly die for their Emperor, and pay any cost to defend their positions for as long as possible. Some panicked, or began to cower or cry instead of firing their weapons. The Commissars quieted those ones with las, bolt, and plasma. A few even took their own lives rather than face the horror of what was about to strike their lines.
0 meters. Contact.
The first transports to reach the defense lines were the land raiders. But they didn’t slow. They rolled right over the defenders. Crushing them beneath their tracks as hull mounted storm bolters fired straight down the line, killing dozens before continuing on.
The seven remaining Rhino transports followed up next. They passed the lines, also killing as they went, but stopped just after, dropping their ramps and disgorging close to 70 Khorne Berserkers. These were demigods of war, clad in crimson armour, gifted with the gene wrought abilities of the astartes, and blessed with the brutality and rage of Khorne. As the defenders turned to face them the thousands of remaining Jakhals injected their stimms. Pushed into a daemonic blood-fuelled frenzy they closed the last 100 meters and fell upon the distracted defenders. Hague’s estimations were correct. The defender’s were naught but butchered meat in less than three minutes.
With everything prepared for the World Eaters that were sure to breach the complex, Hague and Brontus boarded a mag-train that ran from the depths of Flag Hill to the depths of Landing Zone Hill. As Hague activated the detonator and collapsed the mag-rail entry hall he felt a small sense of sadness for the men and women who were about to die. Then he locked that feeling deep inside his heart and steeled himself to carry out his duties. Sacrifices had to be made._ _ _ _ _The Land Raiders that had led the assault on Flag Hill burst through the gates of the fort without slowing. Heavy bolters thumped and soulshatter lascannons flashed bright as all meaningful defense was immediately eliminated by the five remaining armoured transports. Then the assault ramps were dropped and over twenty terminators of Slaughter Lords stormed out. It took exactly 8 minutes for the Khornate butchers to kill every last man woman and child within the fort perimeter and replace Flag Hills huge Imperial standard with a red flag bearing the golden symbol of Khorne. Another of Hague’s estimations had proved accurate.
After the slaughter seven of the terminator’s formed up around Garius Sentris.“Remove your helmets and masks brothers,” Garius commanded.
His brothers complied.
“They shall look upon us and know the glory of Khorne.” Seven skull-headed warriors gazed at Garius. Seven blessed warriors of Khorne. Garius stood as the eighth.
“It is now apparent to me why Ventrilius and Krixelios fell. It was Khorne’s will. Now we are Eight. Now we are blessed with His number.”“We are the blessed Eight, who will overcome the Slake with the Purity of Slaughter, and the blood of the butchered. What say you brothers?” Garius knew what the answer would be.“Blood! Skulls! Slaughter!” His brothers responded in unison.
“We are the blessed Eight who will take vengeance for Skalak!” As Garius spoke, machano-cultists began using meltacutters against the blast door entryway of the command bunker complex.“Blood! Skulls! Slaughter!” His brothers responded.“For Khorne!” Garius could feel fire in his mind. The Butcher’s Nails were thirsting, screaming.“Blood! Skulls! Slaughter!” His brothers responded again.
“Blood! Skulls! Slaughter!” Garius joined the chorus of voices.
“Blood! Skulls! Slaughter!”
“Blood! Skulls! Slaughter!”
“Blood! Skulls! Slaughter!”
The door was cut open.The Jakhals pulled the double sliding blast doors open. Lasfire erupted from within.Garius and his brothers were ready. Their targets were the Imperial base commanders and theOrdo Hereticus Inquisitor, Alistair Hague. Nothing would stop them from butchering their targets. As they started down the sloping halls of the command bunker complex their bolters silenced all resistance. The halls were just large enough, Garius could walk side by side with two of his brothers. Quintus and Korvelios had that honour. The honour of marching side by side with the Champion of Khorne.The defenders were desperately trying to thwart the Slaughter Lords, Hague having tasked their most battle hardened and veteran guardsmen with slowing them down. Despite this, the defenders were only human, and the couldn’t hope to withstand the onslaught of the Eight. As the Eight came to a fourway intersection just before the command and control bunker, a score of chainsword wielding veterans charged from each of the halls.
Garius went left. His stormbolter roared at point blank range as he swept his revving chainfist in wide arcs and kicked hard at those who got close enough.. Guardsmen exploded or were dismembered left and right from the force of the shots, strikes, and sweeps. Soon the walls were slick with blood and the floor cluttered with corpses.
Down the right hallway Quintus and Korvelios deftly wielded their power swords, decapitating and dismembering men three at a time. The guardsmen’s melee weaponry was of no threat to the tactical dreadnought armor the Eight wore and no strike could wound the brothers.The remaining five brothers pushed forward at speed, and simply smashed the oncoming guardsmen between and beneath them. Heads were blown open with sickening pops as they were slammed into walls and floors, and torsos and bodies were squished under the weight of the terminators. As they burst through command and control center doors the five Slaughter Lords expected to find the Flag Hill Commanders ready to fight to the death, as before in Maelstrom Air Base. Instead the brothers paused, puzzled as they found the commanders bound and gagged.
Garius, Quintus, and Korvelios finished their work simultaneously and as they turned back to join their brothers in slaughtering the Flag Hill Commanders, bright blue flame erupted from the hallways their brothers had gone down.“No!” Garius roared as he sprinted to the intersection. Garius looked down the hall and to where his brothers had just stood. All that was left was a slag pile of melted flesh and ceramite.
Meltabombs. The room was booby trapped. The Commanders had escaped. Five more of his brothers were dead. They Ten had fought together for centuries, since before the Imperium betrayed them. They Ten had joined the brotherhood together. They Ten had ascended the ranks of Sanguine Lords together. They Ten had all joined the 1st company together. They Ten had been given the honour of forming the tenth squad of the 1st Company, led by the eldest brother, Garius himself. They Ten had committed themselves to Khorne together. They Ten had been blessed with purity together. They Ten had butchered a hundred worlds, fought a thousand battles, and taken tens of thousands of skulls together. They Ten had been true blood brothers of Skalak prime.
Now they were only Three. Garius. Quintus. Korvelios. The coward, Inquisitor Hague, had set a trap and killed their brothers.
The Butchers Nails screamed in their minds.
They would have their vengeance.
For Skalak.
“Blood.”
For Khorne.
“Skulls.”
For their Brothers.
“Slaughter.”
To be continued…

I would love to to make a community of support and understanding for disabled mothers. Whether you became disabled before or after having children, what those disabilities are, you have a safe space here. Through my story it has been hard to find people that can understand or give advice, and it can feel lonely.
I will start by giving a summary of my experience. I became disabled when about 7-8 months pregnant with my first (the end of 2009). I had symphasis pubis dysfunction. It is not common for it to happen prior to delivery. It is even less common for it not to heal postpartum.
I ended up having a major surgery when my son with 6 months old. 15 screws were inserted in my hips, two 10 inch screws through my SI joint. I wasn't able to use my legs at all for 6 months. Right when I was allowed to use my legs again and start physical therapy, my plate (the screws went through) shattered. I was immediately bedridden again until they could redo the surgery.
It ended up being almost 1 year to the day after my first, that they did a second surgery. This time more screws and they took a bone graft to fuse my symphasis. Again 6 months of not using the bottom half of my body. By that time I also had extensive nerve damage. Throughout all of this my amazing husband has carried me around, wiped my rear, and so many other thing I never even dreamed of being a situation in our mid 20s. It was stressful for both of us in different ways.
Finally in 2015, a doctor suggested a spinal stimulator. I got a test-run done and it helped, so they scheduled the surgery. It is now implanted on my spinal cord. It has helped with the pain and weird discomfort that nerve damage can cause. I have slowly gotten better to some extent, but I will never be able to do so many things I enjoyed previously. It has been a long road, and it still isn't over, and may never be. I hope to find other mothers out there that I can support and encourage, and hope other will do the same.
If you aren't comfortable sharing your story yet, that is okay. Please lurk, join, support, vent, whatever you are most comfortable with, or need at the moment. It is lovely to meet you, thank you for being here!

Advantages of Electric Bikes
a. Cost-effectiveness: One of the biggest advantages of electric bikes is their low cost compared to their gasoline counterparts. As the technology continues to improve and become more affordable, the cost of owning and maintaining an electric bike will continue to drop over time. Electric bikes are also very efficient in terms of energy use, as they can travel much farther on a single charge than traditional bicycles do on a tank of fuel.
b. Environmentally friendly: Another advantage of electric bikes is that they are much less pollutant that traditional vehicles, meaning they're better for the environment in terms of emissions. The lack of internal combustion engine greatly reduces their impact on air quality, allowing you to ride your electric bike without feeling guilty about your carbon footprint.
c. Health Benefits: Electric bikes help you stay physically active while reducing the amount physical exertion needed, making them great for people who have limited physical strength but still want to get some exercise regularly. Riding an electric bike also helps build leg muscles and cardiovascular fitness since you must pedal for movement and speed during most rides.
Disadvantages of Electric Bikes
a. Limited Range: One major downside to owning an electric bicycle is its limited range between charges, which can range from 20 - 50 miles depending on how powerful its motor is, how charged its batteries are, and what type terrain it's used on during a typical ride or journey .If you plan to use an electric bike on longer trips or journeys then it's important to make sure it has enough battery power or charge left before setting off - otherwise you might find yourself stuck without power before reaching your final destination!
b. Weight: Electric bicycles are usually heavier than traditional bicycles due to their motors and batteries being needed in order for them to operate effectively; this makes carrying them more difficult when necessary such as upstairs or onto public transport services like buses or trains where there may not be lifts available at certain stations or stops along stops the way - meaning manual carrying would be involved which would take away one more advantage over regular bicycles (portability) if necessary

Looking to get a holster that fits the P365X Macro. Needs to be for right hand, light bearing and allows for optics. Most interested in T1C holsters with a sidecar, but let me know what you have if it’s something else ($100-130). I previously had a TRex Sidecar 2.0 so no really interested in that model.
Payment via PPFF preferred, but Venmo is viable as well.

I have shot a buddies stippled gun, and was considering doing my own/sending it off to be done. I would like some input on how stippling affects appendix carry if it all, and what patterns would be recommended. I would imagine a more mild texture would be better but have no first hand experience…Also I know there is a strong feelings both ways about stippling, feel free to give alternatives

Hey, Ì̶͓͂ͅ don't know how to approach this subject. Something insane happened and I can't explain it but I can go by what I went through and what I've experienced in hopes̸̲̤̊͊ that someone out there̷̓ͅ can make he̷̓ͅads or tails of this.
It was a week ago, I was walking home from work around 11 pm while listening to mŷ̵͕ music. I have wireless earbuds so I leave one open in case a car is coming. O̶̭̤̮͍̓̑̈́n my way home I heard someone laughing in the distance that kept getting louder and louder. I thou̵͇̳͌̽̚͜ght nothing of it at first. "Maybe someone's window is open?" I thought to myself shaking it off. About halfway home I hear̸̬̖̂ thè̴̙͖͜ la̸̡̧̾̈́́͘ughing still despite being a clear mile from where I first heard̸̯̜̩̿ thẽ̵̯̫̝̣ eerie laughter.
"Is this weiṛ̵͋̀͝do following me?" Ï̷̛͖̰ take my earphone out of my head and took a quick turn to look toward the source of the noise when I noticed a ma̸͇͛̿n standing directly under the street light and looking into the sky. He seemed to have noticed I saw him̷͖̒ and st̶͇̃̒opped laughing. "H̴̝̏͝ey man, Are you ok?" I yelled with a slightly agitated voice. He stood there in deafening silence with the only thing breaking it was the quiet drizzle̵̼̔. After what seemed like a few minutes he began to laugh quietly and move towar̵̠̼̚d me.
His body was ė̸̬͓rratic and awkward. His head still pointed to the sky, concealing his face. Something about his strange moṽ̷̺͗ements and awkward, off-be̷̛̪͌at laughing sent chills up my spin̷͇̹̐e and caused my flight or fight response to go into overdrive. Without thinking my body broke into a full sprint home. I never ran so fà̶̛͈st in my life! My heart was racing an̴̯̼͑d all my senses were height̶̗̻̊ened. The slight scent of petrichor was in the air but that was quickly overcome with the overwhelming scent of rusty iron.
Before I knew it the man caught up and was within a few feet of me I could hear his laughing grow louder and more maniacal. I could feel his anger as I quickly turned my head to take a look at how close he was. His arms were outstretched and his face was still looking into the sky but I could see the contorteḍ̶̇́ smile that stretched inhumanly ear to ear. I ran intǫ̴̾ someone's yard with fresh mud and wet grass. I almost slipped but caught my balance and corrected my footing. I heard a loud thud and a crack. I looked back to see the man has fallen̸͓͇͛̆ onto the groundbreaking one of his arms so bad a bone was sticking out the side and blood quickly pō̸̧̺͝oled around him.
But he kept̴͔̅ smiling and laughing as if the pain didn't exist. I stopped for a moment but realized he was staring at me and no longer looking into the sky. His f̷̖̎̌ace was distorted into a smiling rage as he stood quickly up and snapped his arm back into place. I kept running after gaining a large distance and nearing my home. When I got to my house I flung the door open and locked the door dë̷̟̝́adbolt and ran to my room and locked it as well. My dog noticed my fear and his hair sta̴͍̐̋rted to raise straight up.
"Shhh, it's ok boy. Don't make any noise." I petted my dog attempting to calm him a little. As I sat ther̴͓͈̿e I checked my pockets for m̷̜̯̀y phone and it wasn't in there. I looke̵̲͑d around the room and didn't see it. I quietly opened my bedroom door and saw my phone across the hall on the floor so I crept up to it as quietly as I could and grabbed it. " I need to call the police right now," I̶̧̤͊ said to myself under my brea̸̱̒̇th.
Khorne (m̵͙̉̓y dog) was at the front door growling at it. I looked back to see this guy smiling th̶̺̻̕rough the window of my door. He starte̸͉̳̓͐d to headbutt the door̴̖̺̎̐ causing Khorne to get more agitate̸͓̹̓͌d. Event̸̗̗̿ually, he broke the window on the door and reached intő̴͕̫ it trying to unlock the door. I ran back into my room but I could hear Khorne biting the man's̵̗̽ arm but he kept lâ̷̩ͅughing. I could hear the ripping of muscle and flesh. I started to dial 911 when I heard the door fling open and my dog barking loudly.
The phone wasn't even able to call the number and said the serv̵͕̿͆ice was out although I had full bars. I kept trying over and ove̶̤͐̏r until I heard the gruesome sound of my dog whimpering as the laughing man tore into him. The cry̷̯͐̐ing of my poor dog was silenced with a sickening thud and a loud squelching sound of wet meat. Blood began to pool into my rŏ̸͎om. The smiling man started to pound on my door and laugh even louder. He started to hit the door so hard that the door was cracking and the hinges were being bent.
I ran to my window and tried to force it open as the man was breaking into the room. As I got the window open and stepped out the man busted into the room and ran toward the window. It was then the light on my tv turned on and western music started to play. The smile on the man's face tu̷̩͖͆rned to fear as he turned to face the screen. I was entranced as the screen played an old western movie.
The movie cut to a cowboy who was concealing his face with a scarf but his eyes were glowing red. He was standing in the middle of a town with the clock ticking to noon. The town's bells were ringing and on the 12th ring, he looked at the camera and said "I'm here for you Indrid Cold. Get out here and face justice." It was then the smiling man tried to crawl out of the window I did but not trying to get to me but to get away from the tv. I saw his face... I have never seen such primal fear as he tried to escape. Before he could get out of the window a large dark red claw grabbed his leg and quickly dragged him into the tv.
On the screen, Indrid stood there in a leather duster and the smile on his face was more of a frown. "Draw your weapon, you yellow-bellied bastard." Indrid fumbled and shakingly grabbed the iron revolver from his hip and pointed it slowly at the strange cowboy. The camera panned to the cowboy's eyes. They were sharp with killing intent. I felt no evil or malice in this man but instead, I felt. hopeful as if he was the main character in my life protecting me and others from this being... this Indrid Cold. The town bells stopped ringing and with the blink of an eye the sound of gunfire filled the quiet town and Indrid fell to the ground. The Cowboy stood victorious and the town and even I cheered.
The cowboy looked to the screen and tilted his hat before grabbing Indrid's lifeless body and placing it on the horse. The credits started to roll and my name was on there as "The citizen in trouble". There was also
(The smiling man:̸͓͎̒̐-----Indrid Cold)
(Dog:-----Khorne)
(Hero:----The Revenant)̴̟͙̃͘
After the credits rolled I saw the words "The end" and The Revenant spoke up. "We will meet again. I see you behind the screen reading this and knowing what I am. Safe travels out there" I have a feeling he was speaking to me but also not. I don't know what to do as the screen shut off the blood on my floor was gone and my dog was alive. The damage to my door was repaired however the footprints of the smiling man were still on my floor. This happened I know it. I don't wear shoes with the pattern that was on my floor. Who was The Revenant speaking to?
Anyways, I went to sleep that night hoping that this will be the last I have seen of the smiling man and even the revenant but something deep down is telling me it isn't over yet. Everything seems off-color to me. Like it's grainy and dry. I don't know how else to describe it other than as if I am stuck in that western movie despite never even entering it. I see his eyes sometimes when I look at the TV screen. What does it want with me and why does it feel like they aren't staring at me but beyond me...As if he's staring at you...

Meke Linca’s lifeless body laid on a grand gray marble slab that stood four feet tall. Torches and candles lit the temple in a warm, quiet glow for the ceremony. Although Meke Linca wasn’t someone important, the Ritual of Death is. Many people facing the end sought the Ritual of Transition. They would live the rest of their lives in mire fracked from the earth; a luminous pale material that would eventually make its way through every vein, every blood vessel of the body. It made death a blissful event. But for the Ritual of Death, this was honorable and sacred. The Temple reserved this ritual for those who had passed from childbirth, murder, or an accident—and for those facing death despite it all. Meke was indeed courageous.
Sioba felt pity and deep sorrow for Marta and watched him as he looked over his mother’s body. It told a story all too familiar— of those whose lives should have been grand and adventurous, but they had made a stupid, selfish choice.
She measured the young man, who had forced his brooding eyes away when he noticed Mother Aeda and Mama Doni, dressed in ceremonial white tunics, and Sioba, who was dressed in a thick layer of protective cloth, standing nearby.
Marta kissed his mother one last time and stepped away. There was no one else attending, but according to Mother Aeda, at least she had her son, at least she brought life into the world. Sioba wasn’t sure that was enough. Sioba stood near the young man, who had downcast eyes and tense jaw. She admired him in a way. Not once did he fall for either Mama Doni’s or her desires for him. It’s easy for men to give up in this society, and yet there he stood.
Mother Aeda sang the rites, then handed Marta the oil, which he patted in the center of his mother’s forehead with trembling hands.
Meke protected him well; he hadn’t seen much death.
When Sioba placed her hand on Marta’s shoulder, tenderly and with respect, he started. “Your mother is at peace now,” she said, though by the wild stare of pain, she doubted Marta believed her.
He stared at her with deep blue eyes. Any woman would get lost in those eyes. “I know.”
It was time. Sioba lifted the dead woman off the ceremonial slab, with some aid, and carried her, with much effort, to the Field of Snapping Flowers.
They were watching, Sioba knew. Watching to make sure she made it through without falling into the thorny field of hissing roses and tulips. The hungry flowers snapped at her legs—with a few making their way through the protective cloth.
Sioba reached the very edge of the field. Gently, she laid Meke down, and seconds later, the flowers tore into the dead woman’s flesh.
Before Sioba sat the city of Fulna and her slums. Carriages filled the winding streets, and while only a few could afford them, sunbirds with howdahs on their backs flew in the air. Sioba wanted to stay a little longer. The night was beautiful, alive. She had been conscripted when the Fort Raids War began, but seeing the world now—seeing her people thrive—that was all that truly mattered. “This is what we fought for, Warrior Linca. And we will do it again.”
Back inside the temple, temple sisters handed ceremonial food, purposely bland for the ritual, to the four attendees. A few caught glimpses of Marta, though they knew better.
“Well, Mother Aeda, the island of Ror, off the west coast, is sinking. The Queen had evacuated all the people within a month,” Mama Doni said as she cut into her unseasoned morsel.
“Yes, I know. I had to take in a few of the sisters and mothers residing there. It’s been years since it was bombed by the aliens and their crazy magic. I’m surprised people wanted to stay.”
Sioba cared less about the conversation. Instead, she eyed Marta pointedly. He picked at his food and ate like a bird.
Mother Aeda sighed. “There’s pollution, the women have gone mad, genetic mutations have shortened many of lives there. No one knows what’s going on. Why stay?”
“Because of pride,” the young man said. Mother Aeda and Mama Doni darted their eyes at him in shock. For Sioba, a smile threatened to grow on her face. “Pride. What else can there be?”
She took a sip of the clear, flavorless wine—water would have been much better. “You’re right. I was there for a tour with the Queen and her daughters. I’ve heard that when the aliens finally made the surface and colonized Ror, they took who and what they could for magic experiments, sex, and pets. The aliens treated those there like animals. The people of Ror were mocked because of it. But guess where most of the medical innovation we see now come from? Nowhere else,” scoffed Sioba. “I would have stayed too.”
“Speaking of staying,” Mama Doni whispered, “what have you decided? You are such a good and bright young man. This world is tough for those like you.”
Sioba took another sip of wine and nearly gagged over the disgusting taste.
Marta gulped down his own. “I want to go with Madam Vedu.”
Mama Doni’s brow furrowed as she bored into Marta. It had been her who placed Marta’s photo in Sioba’s hand. And when she had set eyes upon it, upon the young, beautiful Marta, who had seemed to possess simplicity, Sioba had felt a faint epiphany, a sort of awe that pained her heart, as though Marta was meant to be in her life. And while Sioba would rather have another husband if she had to take care of another man, she was glad he accepted her offer. And besides, Mama Doni would have used him up and spit out to breed him to her daughters and whoever else, and Mother Aeda would have no say in the matter.
A man used in such ways was better than him being a dancer or a singer. That was an abomination.
“Then, we shall leave by sunrise,” Sioba announced to the young man, who coyly averted her gaze.
Beyond the walls of the stone temple were the intrusive sounds of the nighthawks. Mother Aeda stood. “Come, child. It is time to see your mother off.”
The group climbed the stairs, stepping onto the grand balcony overlooking the Field of Flowers. Nighthawks, with their shimmering feathers of purple, blue, and black, dove and lifted the clean bones of Meke Linca into the air. No one knew exactly what those creatures did with the bones, and no one dared to find out. They were simply too sacred.
Sioba, standing behind Marta, did not watch the birds and did not listen to their song, because before her, was a trembling child who had lost his mother. She wanted to relieve him of that pain, but like everyone else, he had to fight through the thick of it. He will reach the other side, she knew.
And just like that, he stopped, stiffening and turning to stone. Sioba recognized what he was doing. He was alone now—utterly and completely alone.
The sunbird was up and letting off heat, huffing the last bit of sleep into the air. The driver, appalled by the excrement Rekylo had released earlier, rested against the massive fowl and stared off into the horizon. They had been waiting for more than an hour—forty-five minutes of which was inside the hotel, but still, Sioba was tired, and the long journey back home would only make it worse. Finally, the young man, modestly dressed and with his gaze piously lowered, came through the rooftop doors with only a small luggage and a satchel. He asked without turning to her, “Where shall I put these?”
“I’ll take the luggage, young sir.” Sioba grabbed the belongings and loaded them inside the enclosed howdah—made with Sokiani steel, elaborated with gems and gold plating. Then she helped Marta into the cabin. She turned to the wind-torn face driver to let her know where they could find respite, then finally she climbed into the cabin and saw that Marta was deep in the Holy Book already. This was going to be a long trip, she thought and settled in across him before they flew into the direction of the golden horizon.
After thirty minutes in the sky, Marta had put the book down and stared out the window. It hadn’t occurred to Sioba that the young man was frightened, but she saw it then, the fear. “She’s an excellent pilot, don’t you worry. I was too, so I’ll be the one to know.” And that is true. She was good enough during the war, and that meant she was damn good any other day.
“I’m not. Well… maybe a little,” he sighed. “I’m just worried about the others out there.”
“After the war, we adapted so much of the alien’s magical skill. They figured out the things we couldn’t. In the end, it meant shit, absolute shit. Thank God and Her children. But anyway, I know sunbirds don’t usually crash into each, yet still, we figured a way to keep this beast on track and out of harm’s way, even if the person on the other sunbird was a literal baby.”
Marta chuckled nervously. He stared off again and was as quiet as ever.
Sioba surveyed the rooftops of Fulna, so different—conical and pointier than the curvy barrel roofs of her home city.
Though Ginia and Fulna were a part of the Queen’s nation, the two cities were different and eight hours apart. Usually, she wouldn’t push it. The sunbird, old as she was, could fly for ten hours straight, albeit low and at medium speed, and therefore, ease and comfort were much appreciated.
The sky was beautiful, yet boring. After three husbands, two children, a bustling family, and however many concussions she had during the war (and after too, for one doesn’t simply leave bars alone), sleep came too easy and suddenly. Boredom had a habit of poking her like a drowsy cat. “So, the plan is to land in four hours, book a room—two rooms—and then head out again when I wake up,” she announced, to calm the boy if nothing else.
Sioba watched Marta, as he had not responded. She sighed and opened a magical zine depicting a popular boy group, filling the howdah in low volume. The lead singer’s voice was smooth and seductive, nearing sultry. Their clothing was made of sheer, glittering fabric, probably from the salt hills of Zak, and their feet were adorned with henna and decorated with gemstones reminiscent of the deep sea. The song was full of passion itself, with lines describing love for a woman who was leaving for… whatever reason and how, on the night before she left, he had given her everything. It was an entirely inappropriate song to listen to with a stranger—a pious one at that. She closed the zine and nestled deep in her seat.
“Thank you,” he muttered.
Sioba scoffed at that.
They landed in a cold, desert village — much of it in eyesight. Sioba gathered Marta’s belongings and a bag of her own and entered the small hotel. The place had a musty smell, as though it had experienced a flood. Marta thought a desert as dry and as cold as this could never experience a flood. The world is always a comedian.
Sioba paid for the rooms and handed Marta his key. She showed him the way and left his presence without stating another word.
The room was simple, which was to be expected, and yet still more elaborate than his old bedroom with its carpeted floor, plush velvet sofa, and a groom dais covered in throw pillows. Marta set his things aside and plopped on the bed which gave way to his light weight but did not make a sound. He exhaled and closed his heavy eyes. He wasn’t particularly tired, just mentally exhausted. Being in close contact with Sioba was draining, he’d found. The woman said nothing and sat coldly staring out of the window, and Marta thought it the worst thing that could happen. All of this, the death of his mother, the possibility of marriage (and really, the end of that too and all the other unforeseen consequences from that decision), moving to a new place—all of it overwhelmed him.
Marta was apprehensive of Sioba. Something about her did not sit right with him. The way she looks at him… Her greedy, selfish disregard for rightful unions was one reason, yes—but more importantly, it wasn’t the only one. She had a hand in upturning his mother’s life. He remembered the red dust that could cut skin, the smell of sulfur and shit, the body-shaking cough his mother could not get rid of, the acid that burned through her skin.
And Marta was going to figure out in what way. He didn’t have a purpose, never felt like he should have one, but now the feeling was there, and Marta was going to do something about it. He had to.
Marta took a bath then dressed in a deep rose-hued tunic and covered his hair with a cream-white shawl. He touched up his eyelashes with a light brush of mascara and added a thin layer of pink lipstick to his lips—just enough to emphasize the color already there. Then he went down to the lounge area, made his way through the dancing crowd to the bar, and ordered wine. He had little money. His mother hadn’t left him much. Yet, he didn’t feel guilty for indulging in a drink.
The hotel appeared emptier when Marta had first arrived, but now chatter filled the vast room, concealing the vulgar music coming from the stereos overhead. Marta quickly gained the attention of patrons, some of which were staggeringly drunk. “Come, d-d-d-dance with m-me, b-beautiful,” a red-faced woman slurred.
“No, thank you.”
“My God, I would love to taste you tonight,” another whispered in his ear, but when he turned around, no one was there.
There were other men there, too. Some were with their spouses, some with their sponsors, and a few others without someone searching for an embrace later that night. Of course, Sioba would choose this forsaken place.
Although Marta felt the salacious stares from women around him, he gulped the rest of his wine and searched the room, and there, in a well-lit corner of the lounge, was Sioba, talking to a couple and seemed, on occasion, flirtatious and enjoying the company of a woman’s companion. She leaned into the man and said something which brought an unguarded laugh out of the man. Sioba had a demanding appearance that zines could not convey, could not depict. In places, her brown skin was cool, blemished, and blue and red, warm, and smooth in others. Her dark eyes devour you, as though you possess a secret, and she knows, and she knows you know. On her full lips, she wears a smirk barely buried, hardly there on her chiseled face, but it is as if it’s a diamond, alluring.
And then her gaze fixed on him intently.
Marta turned back around swiftly. "One more glass of wine, please.”
“You like that lady, huh?” some strange woman said, inching closer to him. “In that corner over there?”
Marta scoffed, “No.”
“Well, that’s too bad. I was hoping to make her jealous.”
That’s the last thing that would happen. “Too bad, indeed.”
The stranger threw back her head and laughed. “Oh, goodness, sweety, you are dry. Where’re you from and how did you get here?”
“Someone dragged me here,” Marta half-joked. He watched the bartender make what he’d hoped to be his drink.
The woman inched a little closer; the heat from her and the wine were doing things to Marta. He was getting warmer and desires he tried hard to bury were clawing up. And because he felt brave, he leaned into her, nearly touching her breast. She grinned, and Marta noticed her gold-plated canines. “I have a room here. We can take this there if you want to.”
Marta gazed into the woman’s eyes, which were dead with pleasure. Her lips, as soft as they seemed, pursed with selfishness. In all his days, Marta had never seen a woman look at him in that way, as though he was merely something to be consumed. He peeked over his shoulder at Sioba, who was watching them with a pointed brow. She stood—and that’s when he saw a sheathed dagger, silver and black in its sleekness. Quickly, he turned away, red-faced. He didn’t want Sioba to rescue him, but that didn’t mean he didn’t need saving.
Sioba sat beside him. “Max, a shot of your strongest for me, and give this young man whatever it is you have that’ll fill his stomach. I’ll handle Princess Sa’e’s tab as well.”
Princess Sa’e, the youngest daughter of Queen Xoya III.
That got a deep, guttural laughter out of the young woman next to him. “Goodness, Sioba. What are you, my chaperone? I know you saw how busy I was here.” Then she whispered like it mattered, “Unless you want to join us.”
Marta tapped a damped napkin on his neck. It was getting warmer.
Sioba, after emptying her shot glass and ordering another, said, “What? Fucking two people barely out of the Temple’s Life and Adulting class. Still wet behind the ears. I wouldn’t dream of it.”
Sioba turned and met Marta’s gaze. She peered at him so intensely—her eyes blazed with something Marta could not discern in that moment, for he was upset at her audacity. “A student you tried to marry, no less.”
“Ha! My word!” Princess leaned over the countertop and laughed. “I knew it! A woman like you must have an enormous appetite.”
Sioba’s gentle grin, like a woman dealing with disobedient children, had only angered him. He turned to Princess Sa’e, and whispered, “Take me to your room.”
Gently, Princess Sa’e took his nervous hand and raised it to her full and tender lips. A playful but dangerous smirk lifted on her brown, gilded face, the gold glinting in the dim light. “My pleasure.”
Without thought for he was thinking he would have headed to his room, Marta alighted from the stool and followed behind Princess Sa’e as she led him to the mirrored elevators. Princess Sa’e couldn’t wait to taste him, kissing and licking and grabbing all over him as they danced into the elevator. He had never experienced her kind of need. His moans, the way he grasped at her, may have said otherwise, but feared her kisses and quivered with fright in her grasp. He tried to think of ways to make this better, to drive up his own desire, but this wasn’t what he wanted for himself.
But a young boy must become a man.
The doors swooshed open to the foyer of a plushly carpeted room, sleek with marble and stone. Princess Sa’e grabbed him by the waist, pulling him into her while she moved deeper and deeper into the room, deeper into her dark chamber. Tripping over his robe, Marta landed on the floor still entangled with the princess, who didn’t seem to want to let him loose, not even a little bit. She placed her hand over his neck and lightly squeezed. “I can fucking tell you have never done this before. I’m going to enjoy you.”
Then she caressed her way down, over his chest, over his stomach, like tide wind over waves, until she reached the very base of his hard, and already dripping, penis. She pulled up his robe and pulled down her pants and climbed on top of him. Marta twisted and bucked with ripe desire as she gyrated on top, fixing herself until she was swallowing him, surrounding him tightly as she nibbled his chest and played with his nipples.
Marta grabbed her hips as the pleasure arched his back, him wanting more yet afraid of the unfamiliar yearning for release. Goosebumps heightened on his body and heat traveled to his face. He was red all over when he came. Princess Sa’e’s smile was callous under the cruel, dull lights. She took hold of his trembling hands and held them against the floor, leaning into him with all her weight. When she burrowed down further into him, he whimpered and called out her name. She held him down while pleasure and discomfort took hold of him, causing him to writhe and buck under her—which Princess Sa’e, holding on tightly and moaning into his ear, seemed to enjoy even more. She rolled off him once she finished and asked. “Are you okay?”
Breathing hard and shivering in the chill air, Marta could not disclose the truth. He was in a state of confusion, so he said, “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.” When he dared a quick glance at his member—limp, wet, and dripping—he felt shame. An immense amount of shame.
Princess Sa’e sat up. “What?” she scoffed, then laughed. “We should head to a temple and get married? Is that what you want?” She got up, sat on a lavish sofa, and lit a laced cigarette. “You would have to do more than this to become my husband.”
“Then, may I go now?” Marta asked.
“No,” Princess Sa’e answered coldly. She crossed her legs and took a long pull from her cigarette. “How do you know Sioba? Who is she to you?”
“She is nothing to me,” he sighed. Thinking about his mother, her burdensome life, saddened him. “My mother was dying and tried to marry me off before that time came. Sioba answered. I guess she’d recognized my hesitation and offered me refuge instead.”
Princess Sa’e shook her head. The dull lights played tricks on her face. Sometimes she was beautiful and innocent, and other times she appeared conniving and mischievous. “Hm, Sioba, Sioba, Si… o… ba. Always the saint when she isn’t murdering anybody. You have no other family?”
Of course, it was odd to not have a family in a culture such as theirs. Extended families were a huge part of the family unit. In fact, God created sisters, and then their husbands, just for that reason—family. But he had always known his mother to be alone. He had no one. As a child, he was even bullied for it. “Nope. None.”
“Then maybe Sioba is rightfully charitable after all.”
Marta sensed the tension in her voice. “But…”
“But that doesn’t mean that Sioba isn’t a meddling nobody. She sticks her nose in affairs not concerning her. As you know, my sister is the crown princess, but she is weak and dimwitted. Of course, I wanted the position myself, but to have her crowned is a slap to all my sisters’ faces. Anyone would have been better than her.”
“Princess Oteeb is the oldest.”
“She’s dumb. Sioba convinced my mother to crown her, saying that that’s the proper way of things.”
Still lying on the floor, Marta sat up and gestured for the cigarette. Shocked at how thin the cigarette was between his fingers, he pulled lightly, afraid it would crumble in his hands. The scent wasn’t too bad, the taste itself was bitter. In an instant, he was buzzed. “Sioba ruined my mother’s life. She sent her to the fields.”
Princess Sa’e pulled Marta up by his tunic so that he was on his knees before her. She passionately kissed him and guided him onto the sofa, though Marta was reluctant, though he knew that by going along with this, he was getting himself caught up in a scheme. The princess climbed on top of him and kissed him on the cheek.
“Then we must make her pay,” she whispered into his ear.

Hey, Ì̶͓͂ͅ don't know how to approach this subject. Something insane happened and I can't explain it but I can go by what I went through and what I've experienced in hopes̸̲̤̊͊ that someone out there̷̓ͅ can make he̷̓ͅads or tails of this.
It was a week ago, I was walking home from work around 11 pm while listening to mŷ̵͕ music. I have wireless earbuds so I leave one open in case a car is coming. O̶̭̤̮͍̓̑̈́n my way home I heard someone laughing in the distance that kept getting louder and louder. I thou̵͇̳͌̽̚͜ght nothing of it at first. "Maybe someone's window is open?" I thought to myself shaking it off. About halfway home I hear̸̬̖̂ thè̴̙͖͜ la̸̡̧̾̈́́͘ughing still despite being a clear mile from where I first heard̸̯̜̩̿ thẽ̵̯̫̝̣ eerie laughter.
"Is this weiṛ̵͋̀͝do following me?" Ï̷̛͖̰ take my earphone out of my head and took a quick turn to look toward the source of the noise when I noticed a ma̸͇͛̿n standing directly under the street light and looking into the sky. He seemed to have noticed I saw him̷͖̒ and st̶͇̃̒opped laughing. "H̴̝̏͝ey man, Are you ok?" I yelled with a slightly agitated voice. He stood there in deafening silence with the only thing breaking it was the quiet drizzle̵̼̔. After what seemed like a few minutes he began to laugh quietly and move towar̵̠̼̚d me.
His body was ė̸̬͓rratic and awkward. His head still pointed to the sky, concealing his face. Something about his strange moṽ̷̺͗ements and awkward, off-be̷̛̪͌at laughing sent chills up my spin̷͇̹̐e and caused my flight or fight response to go into overdrive. Without thinking my body broke into a full sprint home. I never ran so fà̶̛͈st in my life! My heart was racing an̴̯̼͑d all my senses were height̶̗̻̊ened. The slight scent of petrichor was in the air but that was quickly overcome with the overwhelming scent of rusty iron.
Before I knew it the man caught up and was within a few feet of me I could hear his laughing grow louder and more maniacal. I could feel his anger as I quickly turned my head to take a look at how close he was. His arms were outstretched and his face was still looking into the sky but I could see the contorteḍ̶̇́ smile that stretched inhumanly ear to ear. I ran intǫ̴̾ someone's yard with fresh mud and wet grass. I almost slipped but caught my balance and corrected my footing. I heard a loud thud and a crack. I looked back to see the man has fallen̸͓͇͛̆ onto the groundbreaking one of his arms so bad a bone was sticking out the side and blood quickly pō̸̧̺͝oled around him.
But he kept̴͔̅ smiling and laughing as if the pain didn't exist. I stopped for a moment but realized he was staring at me and no longer looking into the sky. His f̷̖̎̌ace was distorted into a smiling rage as he stood quickly up and snapped his arm back into place. I kept running after gaining a large distance and nearing my home. When I got to my house I flung the door open and locked the door dë̷̟̝́adbolt and ran to my room and locked it as well. My dog noticed my fear and his hair sta̴͍̐̋rted to raise straight up.
"Shhh, it's ok boy. Don't make any noise." I petted my dog attempting to calm him a little. As I sat ther̴͓͈̿e I checked my pockets for m̷̜̯̀y phone and it wasn't in there. I looke̵̲͑d around the room and didn't see it. I quietly opened my bedroom door and saw my phone across the hall on the floor so I crept up to it as quietly as I could and grabbed it. " I need to call the police right now," I̶̧̤͊ said to myself under my brea̸̱̒̇th.
Khorne (m̵͙̉̓y dog) was at the front door growling at it. I looked back to see this guy smiling th̶̺̻̕rough the window of my door. He starte̸͉̳̓͐d to headbutt the door̴̖̺̎̐ causing Khorne to get more agitate̸͓̹̓͌d. Event̸̗̗̿ually, he broke the window on the door and reached intő̴͕̫ it trying to unlock the door. I ran back into my room but I could hear Khorne biting the man's̵̗̽ arm but he kept lâ̷̩ͅughing. I could hear the ripping of muscle and flesh. I started to dial 911 when I heard the door fling open and my dog barking loudly.
The phone wasn't even able to call the number and said the serv̵͕̿͆ice was out although I had full bars. I kept trying over and ove̶̤͐̏r until I heard the gruesome sound of my dog whimpering as the laughing man tore into him. The cry̷̯͐̐ing of my poor dog was silenced with a sickening thud and a loud squelching sound of wet meat. Blood began to pool into my rŏ̸͎om. The smiling man started to pound on my door and laugh even louder. He started to hit the door so hard that the door was cracking and the hinges were being bent.
I ran to my window and tried to force it open as the man was breaking into the room. As I got the window open and stepped out the man busted into the room and ran toward the window. It was then the light on my tv turned on and western music started to play. The smile on the man's face tu̷̩͖͆rned to fear as he turned to face the screen. I was entranced as the screen played an old western movie.
The movie cut to a cowboy who was concealing his face with a scarf but his eyes were glowing red. He was standing in the middle of a town with the clock ticking to noon. The town's bells were ringing and on the 12th ring, he looked at the camera and said "I'm here for you Indrid Cold. Get out here and face justice." It was then the smiling man tried to crawl out of the window I did but not trying to get to me but to get away from the tv. I saw his face... I have never seen such primal fear as he tried to escape. Before he could get out of the window a large dark red claw grabbed his leg and quickly dragged him into the tv.
On the screen, Indrid stood there in a leather duster and the smile on his face was more of a frown. "Draw your weapon, you yellow-bellied bastard." Indrid fumbled and shakingly grabbed the iron revolver from his hip and pointed it slowly at the strange cowboy. The camera panned to the cowboy's eyes. They were sharp with killing intent. I felt no evil or malice in this man but instead, I felt. hopeful as if he was the main character in my life protecting me and others from this being... this Indrid Cold. The town bells stopped ringing and with the blink of an eye the sound of gunfire filled the quiet town and Indrid fell to the ground. The Cowboy stood victorious and the town and even I cheered.
The cowboy looked to the screen and tilted his hat before grabbing Indrid's lifeless body and placing it on the horse. The credits started to roll and my name was on there as "The citizen in trouble". There was also
(The smiling man:̸͓͎̒̐-----Indrid Cold)
(Dog:-----Khorne)
(Hero:----The Revenant)̴̟͙̃͘
After the credits rolled I saw the words "The end" and The Revenant spoke up. "We will meet again. I see you behind the screen reading this and knowing what I am. Safe travels out there" I have a feeling he was speaking to me but also not. I don't know what to do as the screen shut off the blood on my floor was gone and my dog was alive. The damage to my door was repaired however the footprints of the smiling man were still on my floor. This happened I know it. I don't wear shoes with the pattern that was on my floor. Who was The Revenant speaking to?
Anyways, I went to sleep that night hoping that this will be the last I have seen of the smiling man and even the revenant but something deep down is telling me it isn't over yet. Everything seems off-color to me. Like it's grainy and dry. I don't know how else to describe it other than as if I am stuck in that western movie despite never even entering it. I see his eyes sometimes when I look at the TV screen. What does it want with me and why does it feel like they aren't staring at me but beyond me...As if he's staring at you...

Cover Art!
Just because you’re transported to another world, doesn’t mean you’ll escape from your pain.
Abused by her parents, thirteen-year-old Frances only wants to be safe and for her life not to hurt so much. And when she and her class are transported to the magical world of Durannon to fight the monsters invading the human kingdoms and defeat the self-titled Demon King, Frances is presented with a golden opportunity. If she succeeds, Frances will have the home she never had. If she fails, Frances will be summoned back to the home she escaped.
Yet, despite her newfound magic and friends, Frances finds that trauma is not so easily lost. She is dogged by her abuse and its physical and invisible scars. Not only does she have to learn magic, she has to survive the nightmares of her past, and wrestle with her feelings of doubt and self-loathing.
If she can heal from her trauma, though, she might be able to defeat the Demon King and maybe, just maybe, she can find a home for herself.
Teaser: Hattie finds out about blessings and curses, whilst Janize and Leila have a... development
[The Beginning] [<=Chapter 182 part 1] [Chapter Index and Blurb] [Chapter 183=>](https://www.patreon.com/vren55) ]
The Fractured Song Index
Discord Channel Just let me know when you arrive in the server that you’re a Patreon so you can access your special channel.
It was taxing being so close to Queen Janize and not being able to do anything about it. Elizabeth had to admit to herself that she had at some points, wondered about just wringing the woman’s neck. However, there was no way to do so.
If Elizabeth had one word to describe Queen Janize, it was that the woman was intriguing. As one of the maids directly attending Janize, she was mostly standing nearby, fetching pen and paper and drinks. The woman was rarely alone, usually accompanied by multiple servants, guards, and Leila. She also attended meetings directly with Earl Darius that Elizabeth coudn’t attend, and would often have private meetings with her Otherworlder shadow.
Ayax, however, using a nifty spell that Frances had invented to eavesdrop in magically unprotected rooms, could actually listen in on the queen.
It was in one of these conversations that Elizabeth and Ayax were quietly discussing in their rooms with Martin and Ginger attending through mirror.
“So you are now certain she’s working against Darius?” Elizabeth mused.
Ayax pursed her lips and nodded once. “I believe so. She definitely doesn’t tell Leila everything, but I am more inclined to think she’s preparing countermeasures against the Earl. Not that that changes anything. I think we need to kill them both.”
Elizabeth blinked. “But she’s pregnant, Ayax.”
Her lips twisted in a grimace, Ginger sighed. “I don’t like it either, Liz, but I get what Ayax is saying. If Queen Forowena’s cannot bear children, Janize’s child will become a threat to whoever succeeds King Jerome. It might be better to kill a traitor and rebel than kill her child.”
Martin coughed officiously, his eyes narrowed. “I personally don’t really see the difference, and I doubt most would. Both are very unenviable options.” The knight drummed his fingers on the table. “This is going to sound off topic, but what’s the mood in the castle?”
Ayax glanced at Elizabeth, who frowned in thought. “Downcast. They aren’t willing to surrender, but since the Erlenberg navy has cut off all sea resupply, they’re rationing food.More importantly, Ayax just told me that it doesn’t sound like the city is going to be relieved anytime soon.”
Martin blinked. “Really? I thought the traditionalists still had remaining troops?”
Shaking her head, Ayax’s tail swayed back and forth. “From what I heard these are their last remaining troops. We’ve dealt too many defeats to them, destroyed too many of their castles, killed or captured too many of their mages. They’re waiting for us to make a mistake, but they don’t think we are going to make one. We can conceivably just hold our siege here until we starve them until starvation.”
“Of course, that’s not really an option. Too many things can go wrong with such a long siege,” said Elizabeth, recalling a lesson from Igraine. She wondered how was her mentor doing.
It was then that Elizabeth and Ayax noticed that Martin and Ginger were exchanging grim looks their lips pressed into thin lines.
“It’s no longer an option,” said Ginger. “A little over a week ago, Timur found out that Thorgoth is training six dragons, the children of Telkandra. He learned this from the eldest of Telkandra’s children who had fled her siblings. However, while trying to get this dragon and Goldilora away, Timur was captured by Thorgoth’s forces.”
Martin, noticing Ayax and Ginger’s widening eyes, piped up in a firm tone. “Frances is heading with Morgan and Hattie to rescue him and I think they have a chance of succeeding, but the fact remains that we now know why Thorgoth was so passive. He was amassing his forces to perform a final attack with dragon support. We cannot maintain a prolonged siege and so I have an idea.”
Ginger scratched her head, trying her best not to scowl. “I hate it, but I think it works. Liz, Ayax, can you meet with Janize in private and offer her terms of surrender?”
Elizabeth blinked. Ayax’s jaw dropped open. “I thought you wanted to kill her, Ginger?”
“I do, but I…” Ginger closed her eyes and rested her forehead against her clasped hands. “Look, as much as I want the bitch dead, you all spent a long time pulling me out of the shitty place I was in. I feel like if I ask you to do something so cold-blooded, even if it is the ‘practical’ and ‘logical’ decision, it would mean all of us would be going to that place. I don’t want that.”
“Are you sure about this? I agree with you, but I have…strong feelings about preserving life, especially unborn life,” said Elizabeth, her eyes focused on Martin.
The knight sat up straighter and gave a short nod. “I am sure that we need to at least offer Queen Janize terms. If she refuses then so be it, but if she agrees, then we must explore that option.”
“And how are you going to convince King Jerome and Queen Forowena this?” Ayax asked, arching an eyebrow.
Ginger allowed herself a smirk. “Leave that to us. You and Liz think of a way to offer the following terms without getting caught. We need to send a clear message.”
Elizabeth crossed her arms. “What are the terms you plan to offer?”
Her arm wrapped firmly around Janize’s waist, Leila guided the queen to her bedchambers. “Come on, let me carry you at least once.”
The queen hid her smile with her hand as she let herself be guided. With her servants dismissed, it was now alright to play coy with Leila. “Are you sure you’re strong enough for two, Otherworlder?”
Janize blinked when Leila leaned in, pulling her close. The Otherworlder gently stepped in. Her eyes wide, the queen found herself starting to lay back onto the younger woman’s arms.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” drawled Leila.
Her heart pounding, Janize held onto Leila, wearing her smirk like a shield. “I expect you to carry me to my bed, Leila,” she rasped.
“Well then…” Leila dipped one arm underneath Janize’s legs. The queen held her breath as she was lifted into the air. The younger woman’s grip was incredibly gentle and steady even as Leila fumbled with the door.
Janize opened the door with her gloved hand. “Allow me.”
“Thank you.” Leila kicked the door open and sashayed herself and Janize into her bedchambers. The queen watched the Otherworlder through half-lidded eyes, revelling in how Leila’s eyes were glued to her.
“Are you already undressing me with your eyes?” Leila giggled.
Janize arched an eyebrow. “Unless my eyes are magic, I don’t think—Ah, you mean it metaphorically. I was thinking you should take my dress off.”
“Oh? You would like to be at my mercy…” Leila’s voice trailed off . Janize felt ice seep into her heart when Leila’s grip tightened around her. Her dark brown eyes now stared at something on their bed.
Their bed? Oh dear. She was really growing rather fond of Leila wasn’t she?
Janize took a deep breath and reached up to touch Leila’s cheek. “What’s wrong?”
The Otherworlder carefully set the queen down. Once she did, Leila gripped the hilt of her long dagger. Janize had to turn around before she saw what had killed the mood.
“Hm, rather menacing isn’t it?” Janize muttered. She narrowed her eyes at the dagger planted point first into her mattress. “There appears to be a note attached to it. Can you be a dear and get that, Leila?”
“Yes, but give me a moment. Can you stand back?” Janize swept behind her protector, who drew her wand and muttered several spells. They made the dagger, bed, and even the sheets glow. After several different spells, the Otherworlder finally went forward, yanked the dagger from the bed and unrolled the letter.
Janize peaked over Leila’s shoulder, not hard to do considering she was what Leila had called her, a few “inches” taller.
To Queen-Claimant Janize of Erisdale,
We, Sir Martin of Conthwaite, Ginger of Conthwaite, Ayax “The Blackgale” Windwhistler, and Lady Elizabeth Hae-won Kim, would like you to know that we could have killed you and Leila as you slept, but circumstances compel us to offer you terms.
King Thorgoth of Alavaria has recruited purple dragons to his cause. You know what he intends to do with them. In the interest of ending this civil war that has taken so many lives, we request on behalf of King Jerome and Queen Forowena that you surrender under the following offer, conditional to their Majesties final approval:

Your life and that of your unborn child is guaranteed
Presuming that your child lives to their majority, they will be first in line to the throne of Erisdale, not to be superceded by any adoption or newborn children.
You are to be confined for life on Greyrock Island with a hundred retainers you may choose
Earl Darius and the other nobles who supported you are to submit to a trial by the high court for war crimes. All but his life is guaranteed, along with a steady income, but their lands and wealth will be confiscated from their persons, but not necessarily from their families and children

If you wish to discuss with us further, have a courier send a message out to the siege lines under a flag of truce.
Leila murmured the contents of the letter to herself. A snarl warped her lips. “What a load of bullshit. Are you done, Your Majesty? If so, let me burn it.”
A gloved hand held Leila’s wrist, whilst another set of hands plucked the letter from the Otherworlder’s grasp. Janize stepped away, pacing across ther room, and studying the letter intently.
Leila stared at the queen. “Janize, what are you doing?”
Janize tapped her hand with one finger but continued to study the letter. “Shh. Silencing spells on my room please.”
Leila spluttered, shook her head and started to cast several privacy spells to block out any eavesdroppers. She then sent a burst of magic toward the smoldering fireplace and levitated into the rising flames.
“Alright, now can you explain what’s got you so rattled.”
“I am perfectly calm my dear.”
“Bullshit. You’re rattled and you have no reason to be. They can’t possibly be telling the truth. I mean, dragons?” Leila rolled her eyes. “And why would they offer to save the life of your child?”
Janize did not look up from the letter. “It is precisely because the information is so unbelievable that I am somewhat concerned.”
Leila threw her hands up into the air. “And I thought you said you weren’t rattled.”
“I am afraid that I lied.” The queen hissed those words through gritted teeth. Taking a short breath, she turned to face the Otherworlder. “Leila dear, I quite enjoy your company, but I think you should take your leave.”
Blinking, the Otherworlder grimaced. “You don’t trust me.”
Janize fingers tightened around the letter. “I need to be alone. Truly alone.”
Her arms crossed, Leila gave the queen what could only be described as a flat stare. “I say that’s a horrible idea given that they can get into your bedchambers without anybody noticing.”
Janize opened her mouth to retort, but quickly closed it. Her lips a thin line, she closed her eyes.
“Leila. You make a good point and so you should stay here. That being said, you ought to know your place.”
Leila looked up at the ceiling and exhaled. Her breath almost spitting out between her clenched teeth. “I know my place, Your Majesty.”
“You have a very strange way of showing it.” Janize narrowed her eyes at the younger woman, studying her posture. She’d gotten to know Leila quite well. Her stiff, crossed-arm posture was a way of holding herself in check when she was frustrated about something.
After a long moment where Leila just gazed at the ceiling, she suddenly shivered and wiped her eyes.
Janize blinked. She tried to keep her expression serene, but the Otherworlder started to sniffle. Before her eyes, Leila’s stiff pose crumpled. She buried her tear-stricken face in her right hand, whilst she gripped her shirt with the other.
“Leila? What is going on? Are you alright?”
“No. I’m definitely not alright. I’m very, very fucked up, okay? I’m probably more of a freak than Frances.” The Otherworlder wiped her eyes with the back of her arm. “But I know my place. Oh, I know my place. I’m your disposable fuckbuddy. Your dumb hunk of muscle with boobs for you to squeeze. I know you are going to kill me once the war is over and after you’ve dealt with Darius. I also don’t care, so long as you do so after the Demon King is dead.”
Janize blinked, her mouth trying to form words, excuses, anything to try to deny what Leila was saying. “Excuse me? When have I—”
“Don’t lie to me. Please, don’t lie to me anymore.” Leila sniffled, and shook her head. “I mean, I don’t care if you do. Hurt me all you’d like. Use me as you wish. Just…promise me that you’ll get rid of me after Thorgoth dies. I don’t want to go back to Earth.”
“But if you die in Durannon after Thorgoth dies then correct me if I’m wrong, but the spell that returns you to ‘Earth’ won’t be active because you would have chosen to stay in Durannon. That means you’ll…” Janize’s voice trailed off. The letter slipping out of her grasp, she reached for Leila, but the Otherworlder stepped back. “Leila dear, you cannot be serious.”
Leila’s laugh was without mirth. It rang in the room softly, and yet it shook the queen’s hands like the howl of a wounded animal. “I am. You don’t need to pretend anymore, Your Majesty. I know you aren’t really lying to Earl Darius about getting rid of me. I’d have outlived my usefulness to you after he’s gone. Besides, you have the pick of the kingdom once you win the war. Why would you choose me?”
Janize briefly pinched the bridge of her nose. “Why would you be alright with being disposed of, Leila? You’re a fighter, and a tough young woman. I’ve never known you to give up like this. Why fight for me when you think I’ll get rid of you?” Despite her attempt to control her tone, the queen could hear her voice rise in pitch.
Leila’s shoulders fell, and she bit her lip. Swallowing, the Otherworlder croaked, “I love you. I love how you smile. I love how you lie to those around you and play them for fools. I love how you stand so tall despite the chaos around you. I love how you play your cards—your schemes—so close to your chest. I love your ruthlessness, your pitiless glower and just…everything about you.”
The queen, her jaw agape, stared at the Otherworlder and the desperate smile on her lips. Janize pinched herself with her long nails, drawing a red mark on her knuckle, and found that she was still awake. “Even when I hurt you? Even when you think I am going to have you killed?”
Leila coughed into her fist, and nodded. “Yeah. I mean, it hurt when I figured it out. But it’s what I deserve and what would happen to me anyway if I went back to Earth. At least you let me be me and made me happy. At least you pretended to be my friend and lover.”
“Pretended? You’re alright with—” Janize shook her head. “Leila, what happened on ‘Earth?’ I know your parents were horrible. I know they just buried you with schoolwork, activities, and never let you choose what you wanted to do. That does not explain why you want to die rather than go back!”
Leila shrugged helplessly, her eyes glancing off to the side. “I mean, it’s a pretty stupid explanation.”
“Enlighten me. I will decide whether it’s stupid or not.”
The Otherworlder bowed her head. “It’s nothing like say Frances’s reason. I mean, fuck, her parents wanted her dead or near dead. I could see the bruises.” Leila smiled again, without mirth, not even bothering to wipe her tear-filled eyes. “My parents just told me that I needed to be better, to try harder, and to let nothing stand in my way. They drilled it into me, until they started to just ignore me for my little brother. I tried even harder. I tried so hard I didn’t even care who I hurt. But then they stopped talking to me no matter how hard I tried. Eventually they started to be afraid of what I had become. I’m a monster, Your Majesty.” Leila looked up at Janize. Her gaze was dead. A broken, unnerving smile was glued across her tear-stained cheeks. “If…if you’d like to run screaming. You can do that. I’m used to it.”
Janize stared at the young woman. Frozen, one foot forward, the queen allowed her trembling hands to drop to her sides.
Suddenly, the woman picked up her skirts and marched up to the Otherworlder. Before Leila could step away, Janize threw her arms around the Otherworlder and pulled her into an embrace.
“Don’t run. Don’t run. Your queen demands you hear her out first!” Janize hissed, burying her face in Leila’s neck.
“Okay but why are you—” Leila blinked. Something warm, and wet was dripping on her neck. “Janize? I don’t—”
“You were not entirely wrong. I was planning on getting rid of you at first.” Janize loosened her embrace, her hands moving to cup Leila’s cheeks. Slowly, she pulled the Otherworlder to face her. They were so close, their noses were rubbing against each other. They were so close that Janize knew that Leila could see the tears that were filling her eyes. “It just appears that despite my best efforts, Leila, I have grown very very fond of you, in spite of your flaws.”
“You don’t mean—but that’s impossible—” Janize leaned forward, capturing her lover’s lips. She left Leila speechless, jaw agape, fresh tears in her eyes.
“It has already happened, my dear Leila. Is not a healthy relationship by any measure, but I do find myself enamoured with you and it has become my desire at this moment to spend my life with you.” Janize smiled, watching as the young woman in front of her splutter, blink and then just cry. Leila sobbed, leaning into her as she broke down. She cried so hard, for so long that Janize had to guide her love to the bed they shared, where the Otherworlder cried some more.
“Why?” Leila finally croaked, as her head lay on Janize’s lap, whilst the queen gently stroked her hair.
Janize pursed her lips. “I’m not entirely sure why to be honest. I suppose I can say that you make me feel…alive. You rouse my anger, my passion, and my ambition. You don’t bullshit me, which makes it quite easy to talk to you. You make me think, question, laugh…and feel. When I’m with you, I feel like I can be me.”
Leila blinked, her cheeks coloring. “Oh. I’m…I’m glad.” She gave the queen a small, shy smile. Janize mirrored it, relief filling her heart as she continued to stroke the young woman’s hair.
“So tell me now, Leila my dear. Do you know your place?” Janize asked, leaning down to poke her lover on the nose.
Leila beamed. “I do, Janize.”
Janize grimaced as she caressed Leila’s cheek with her bare hand. She’d long ago pulled her gloves off. “Then listen carefully because you’re not going to like what you hear next. I think we ought to accept the Lightning Battalion’s offer, but we might not be able to do so safely.”
Leila frowned, but continued to lay on the queen’s lap. “Alright, but why? And why do you believe this isn’t one of their sneaky tricks?”
“Two reasons. One, we’ve lost this civil war. Two, I think they’re telling the truth, though, not the whole truth.”
Leila sat up, gently brushing Janize’s hand off her cheek, as she shuffled to sit next to the queen. Her scarred fingers intermingled with Janize’s slender, perfectly manicured ones. “But wait, that’s preposterous. I mean, dragons? And then there’s exile. Why would you be willing to go to this Greyrock Island?”
Janize chuckled, hiding her wide grin with one hand as Leila frowned. “Greyrock Island actually has a very nice palace. It’s the private getaway of the Erisdalian Royal Family. It was built by an overindulgent Erisdalian Queen to stow away her lovers and while isolated, the island is self-sufficient. We won’t be able to escape, but considering that they could have had me executed for disobeying my father’s will, it’s not a bad option.”
Mouth forming an ‘o,’ Leila took a breath. “Wait, so you believe them?”
“Yes, they have been quite upfront without being blatantly obvious. They’ve offered to let my child be heir. This means that the rumor I’ve been hearing from our remaining spies is probably true. Earl Forowena must be infertile. And even if this rumor is false, the fact that they are willing to even entertain the idea of allowing my child on the Erisdalian throne is significant. They badly want to negotiate, even when they have significant advantages. Something must have changed and what else could it be but them finding out Thorgoth has dragons? If they knew about the dragons from the start, or lied about it, they wouldn’t want to end the siege with such a significant concession after taking so many casualties and time to set it up. It could be a delaying tactic but we are the ones being besieged, not them.”
“But we haven’t lost the war yet. We—” Leila’s voice trailed off. Janize’s smile had quite suddenly faded. “You know something that neither Darius nor I knows, or that we’re unwilling to admit.”
Janize drew herself up, her free hand placed on top of her growing stomach. “Not quite. You see, as queen, I have the most complete picture of what our faction knows. It’s a picture I hold very close to my chest and while someone can deduce it, or mislead me, I believe what I have analzed of the strategic situation is correct.” The queen closed her eyes. “As you know, we were planning to muster an army in the east to try to relieve the siege. You also know that that attempt has been unsuccessful and we’ve been forced to wait this out. It’s a losing strategy already. The greater problem, though, is that it doesn’t really matter if we win or if we lose this siege. If we win, which is likely to be in a battle against well-trained and disciplined troops led by veteran commanders, we’ll lose a significant amount of our remaining offensive power. They will lose combat power as well, but given the record of the Lightning Battalion, there is a good chance we’ll have nothing left even if we do hurt them. At that point, King Jerome and Queen Forowena can march in with their forces and destroy us. Sure the war will be prolongued, but by how much?”
Leila frowned. “But if we win the siege, we’ll have bought time to recruit and train another army.”
Janize shook her head. “And I’m afraid that that’s no longer an option. Erisdale City itself was a significant supplier of our tax revenue which we used to fund our army. It’s been under siege for months at this point. The city’s commercial potential has been indelibly damaged and even if the damage from the siege is repaired and the city returns to normal, Erlenberg has shown that they have secured the northeastern sea from Thorgoth’s Alavaria enough so that their fleet can now raid and blockade us with impunity. Add the fact that our war chest is now well and truly exhausted, well, I’m scrambling to maintain the troops we have on the field.” The queen glanced at the Otherworlder with a wry smile. “And that’s not considering the fact that if Thorgoth does have dragons, after he deals with his rebellion and the Reformists, we’d be next, and as I’ve just told you, we are far weaker than the Reformists right now.”
Leila’s eyes widened. “Shit.”
The queen nodded, bowing her head. “It pains me to admit, but a great deal of fault for this war and its outcome rests on my shoulders. I…I gravely miscalculated years ago when I aligned myself firmly in Earl Darius’s camp. I thought it was the obvious choice. Alavaria was maniacally anti-human from what we heard from Archmage Star. We needed to present a strong anti-Alavari front after the war with Lapanteria and Darius was a popular and established noble with significant support and resources.”
“But he was an asshole.”
Janize sighed and rested her head on the younger woman’s shoulder. “Leila, I must admit that I can be quite the bitch as well. It galls me to admit it, but my prejudices against the Alavari clouded my judgement. It made me more willing to condone Earl Darius’s actions when all they did was unite the Reformers against us and turn away potential Alavari allies. Then when my father changed his mind about the succession and was assassinated by Alavaria, I let my bitterness to him, and my hatred of Alavaria take over.”
Leila frowned. “But what would we have gained by allying with those monsters?”
The queen looked up at Leila, arching one thin eyebrow, her grey eyes hammering the Otherworlder with the flattest stare. After a moment, Leila winced and turned away. Janize held her glare for another second before giggling. “Monsters they may be. They are certainly not human. Yet they are not beasts to be put down. No, the fact that the Lightning Battalion has worked as well as it has, the fact that I hear stories all the time of Athelda-Aoun whispered in my halls, those have shown me that perhaps my prejudice was greatly misplaced. They are clearly capable of all the traits we associate with humanity.”
Leila pursed her lips and the furrow on her brow deepened. “Oh. That’s actually a very good point.”
“Coming around to my point of view now, Leila?” Janize asked, smirking just a little. Leila’s only response was to close her eyes and pull back from the queen. Her lips were pressed thin, she coiled the fingers on both her hands together. Her smirk fading, Janize gently reached over to caress her woman’s cheek. “Leila my love? What is wrong?”
Her eyes opening, Leila flashed the queen a brief smile. “You…you could stand to call me that more often. I’m fine. Not really alright, but fine. I was just thinking if I thought about it the way you did, would Jessica and I still be friends?”
Janize cupped Leila’s face in her hands. “Maybe, but then you wouldn’t have me.” Before the younger woman could respond, the queen pressed her lips against Leila’s.
When they finally parted, Leila was smiling and Janize, well she was smirking with smug satisfaction.
“I love you so much,” whispered Leila. At Janize’s wink, Leila couldn’t help but giggle. “So what do we do now? Earl Darius would never surrender, as would several of his supporting nobles. He’s lost a daughter already and that was to Martin and Ginger’s forces.”
“I’m afraid I’m still considering that.” Poking Leila’s nose with a finger, Janize dropped her tone, allowing her words to drop out as sultrily as she could. “Do you perhaps have any ideas how we can confer with the Lightning Battalion? I am still wondering what our counter-offer should be, but we need to find a way to meet with them first.”
Leila, cheeks reddening, coughed officiously. “Um, it would be easier to pass something onto the spies who planted the dagger. I…I might have a few ideas.”
Janize walked her hand up Leila’s arm and across her collarbone. “Well I’d love to hear them, but you know what, let’s leave that for a later time. I think we’ve interrupted what we set out to do tonight long enough.”
There was a quiet cough. Janize stared at Leila, as the Otherworlder’s eyes widened. Both of their mouths had been still.
“In that case, let me interrupt you for the last time.” A tall, slender form rolled out from underneath the bed and stood up. Ayax, in light mail armor, crossed her arms, her staff in one hand, and a magic card in another. Idly she tucked the card into her pocket. “I don’t use these cards as often, but a nice quieting spell is very useful to have on hand. And before you ask, I heard everything.”
Leila, hand shooting to her dagger, sprang to her feet. She didn’t charge at the troll, but put herself between Ayax and Janize. “Blackgale.”
Smirking, Ayax dipped her head. “Leila.”
“Does Frances know about this?” Leila narrowed her eyes at the troll, hating just at how amused she looked.
“No, but you tend to be the last thing on her mind these days. Now if we are done here, magic mirror call tomorrow at noon? Just cast it on myself or one of my friends. We’ll be waiting.”
Janize, sitting very still and straight, cut in before Leila could answer. “An excellent idea, Lady Windwhistler. Will my brother be attending?”
Ayax waltzed to the window and opened the shutters. “In good time, Queen Janize. I would advise you to be diplomatic and we’ll treat you fairly. After all…” The troll faced the pair. Her smirk gone, her fierce black eyes glaring at the queen. “I could have killed all three of you right then and there.”
Janize nodded, not quite able to hide her scowl. Leila glanced at her, lips pursed with worry and in that moment, Ayax leapt through the window. Scrambling after her, Leila poked her head out to find the troll had vanished into another open window above them.
“Shit. Fuck I’m so sorry—Janize?” Leila’s eyes widened. Janize was breathing faster and faster, her hand covering her mouth. The Otherworlder raced over, embracing the queen. Slowly she ran a hand through her hair again and again, trying to calm the woman down. “You’re safe. You’re alright.”
Janize shut her eyes, rubbing her belly with both hands. “I’m fine. I just need a moment. Amura and Rathon. I…she could have killed me, killed us three.”
Leila groaned, kissing Janize’s forehead. “I’m sorry. I should have been more thorough.”
The queen waved her hand. “Think nothing of it. What's done is done and…it does seem that they do not have the stomach for cold blooded murder. At least we know how to talk to them.” Janize exhaled slowly. “I believe, I need some of your magical hands to relax me. The massage oils are in the bedside drawer.”
Leila blinked. “You’re still in the mood—”
Janize fixed her love with a gimlet glare, tempered only by a hungry grin. “I have had quite enough interruptions today, Leila. I am practically craving your touch dear.”
Leila giggled weakly and rolled off their bed. “Yes ma’am!”
Author's Note: One of the few regrets I have for Fractured is that I have too many side characters and want to flesh out their stories too much. Aiya, still I did find this fun to write. What did you all think?

Just got chapter 3 finished. For this spring, I'm going to be aiming for a chapter every couple of weeks until my workload eases this summer. This is partly due to scheduling in other areas of life, but also because I'm aiming for fewer chapters but with a longer average word count. Good news is this gives me more time to bang out some of the details so hopefully I'll put that to good use.
As always, this story is available to read on fanfiction and AO3 with the links to the current chapter below:
Fanfiction: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/14198757/3/Land-of-the-North-Wind
AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/45067345/chapters/115658854
Recruited
While the days were quickly getting shorter, the sun was still in the sky far more often than not. It would be weeks until the equinox and then from there the north country would start getting colder, and colder, and colder still until the land more resembled a glacier than the rolling hills. Shadow was the first to rise, having enjoyed a well-earned rest on the first soft bed in weeks. Getting fully dressed, Shadow took a minute to look out from the back window of the room. Above the walls in the far distance rose those mountains. They looked similar and yet so very different from the forested mountains of home in her youth.
“Get out of here, you’ve caused enough trouble.” The words came back to her as a bad memory, one she had tried to shake countless times. But even the slightest hint of home would bring those cutting last words of her family back to her. The cause was all over her body, the black fur and the hints of even blacker spots covered every inch of skin.
“But I didn’t do it…” Those were her last words to her mother and siblings. There was no goodbye, no “I love you.” Just stern faces and weapons at the ready. It had been five long years since that fateful day, no one would have guessed how far Shadow would travel since then, not even her. But, like Connor, Shadow sensed that being out here was a chance to start over. No guilds, no templar, just people curious and cautious of some strange outsiders. She’d always need to be careful, just like any keidran, but with the right connections she’d be as safe as anyone. Especially if Connor joined the city guard. Speaking of the gathering in the great hall was going to start soon.
“Hey guys, it’s time!” Shadow said, loud enough to wake everyone but still with a gentle tone. Connor groaned and, after ruffling Asher’s hair, stretched his arms and legs in bed. All that walking and riding was catching up with him now, and he could feel the tight muscles complaining about having to move yet again. Liz was quick to rise, having slept like a rock half the day. Asher was the most sluggish, the poor kid just wanted to sleep in. But, without warning, Connor was quick to scoop him up off the bed and put Asher down on his feet. The basitin wobbled on unsteady legs that weren’t ready to bear their weight, but Connor propped him up while fetching the kid’s shirt and jumper so that he could get dressed. Zephyr, just like a cat, got up from her spot on the window sill, the sun having moved on from where she fell asleep.
“So what are we doing?” Liz asked, rubbing eyes while fetching her jacket.
“There’s a meeting in the great hall and I thought we ought to go over there and get to know some of our new neighbors. Also, I’ve been thinking about a work offer and should follow up on it.”
“Really? And what is it?” Liz questioned.
Connor walked over to the corner and picked up his father’s sword, unsheathing it slightly to see the glinting steel exposed from its home inside the scabbard.
“Sam, Gerrick’s son, said I should join the town guard.”
“Isn’t that dangerous?” Asher said, finally awake enough to be listening.
“It’s a lot safer than being on the sea, and it pays more than a lot of the labor around here. Besides, especially in the winter there can’t possibly be that many hazards to worry about.”
“Well, if you think that’s the right thing, I guess I can’t argue. We’re going to need money to buy supplies for winter.” Liz said.
“My thoughts exactly.” Shadow added. “Besides, I’ve seen Connor in action, your brother can handle himself.”
“Oh come now Shadow, I’m far from being a confident fighter.”
“What about that guy in the fighting pits?”
“The what?” Liz asked. She hadn’t heard all the details yet.
“Shadow! You know I don’t want to talk about that.”
“Connor, you were in a fighting pit?”
“Uh… yeah. Like I was saying earlier Liz, it’s a very long story and not all of it is pleasant. Look, if we’re all ready, we had better get going.”
Tightening the sword’s belt around his waist, Connor donned his long black cloak and followed everyone out of the inn and into the street. The citizens were indeed making their way over to the great hall. Well, a lot of people anyway, plenty of others couldn’t care less. Following the crowd, Connor made sure that everyone stayed together, even grabbing Asher’s hand so that he wouldn’t get lost in the crowd.
Walking through the giant wooden doors, they all looked up to a hall lined with chandeliers made of caribou antler and brass candle holders. In the middle was a long, raging fire in a pit extending most of the length of the main room. The place reeked of smoke and sweat, but the seat of power was unmistakable. At the far end of the room, on a platform, were several well-built chairs behind a long table. Older folks were seated along the large tables that extended the length of the room while others stood. Shadow found everyone a spot to watch about halfway down the hall and near one of the large supports.
“I can’t see anything!” Asher exclaimed with frustration. Looking down, Connor rolled his eyes before hoisting the kid up onto his shoulders to watch.
“Better?”
“Much better, thank you.”
“Alright, but I can’t do that forever. You’re heavier than you look.”
“Are you calling me fat?” Asher teased.
“No, but you are growing up quick, so enjoy the view while you can.”
Almost as if on cue, men came out from a back room and took their places along the fancy chairs behind the big table. After all were sat down, the one on the right, but closest to the wooden throne, stood and held up his hands. At once, people began to quiet down. Then the Jarl came out from the back room. He wasn’t dressed as nicely as Connor would have thought. His clothes weren’t much different from the commoners, just a little better quality and with some muted colors.
For a moment, the Jarl paused to look out at his people before sitting down with one arm gripping each of the throne’s armrests. He wasn’t particularly old, perhaps in his thirties. Hair with just slightest hints of grey hung down to meet a beard that was several inches long. Winter was approaching and this apparently was the look of most men. Upon taking a good look at the crowd gathered, the Jarl began to speak.
“Harald, glad to see you could make it in time.” The Jarl greeted one of his friends, who raised a cup to his lord. “And Evan, how is your father?”
“He is improving, my lord.”
“Very good, be sure to send him my regards. Now then, lawspeaker, what is our agenda tonight?”
The man to his right cleared his throat before speaking out in a booming voice. “My lord, we are here to discuss preparations for winter.”
“Excellent. Do we have any news from the port on supplies?”
One of the freemen in the crows stood up. “The harbor master has informed me that there will be two more ships that are scheduled to arrive in the next month, and after that there’s no guarantee that the river will remain open to the coast.”
“We’ll have to put together some able-bodied men who can run the river then. It’s going to be a harsh one, just as my father predicted before his passing. Callow will need all the supplies we can muster.” The Jarl said, issuing his decision.
“Very good, my lord” the lawspeaker said. “Gerrick, I trust that you can assemble the necessary men and boats?”
Gerrick then stepped out so that he could be better seen. “Yes, my lord. So long as the weather holds, this should be a fairly simple task.”
The Jarl nodded, “then make it so, Captain. What is next?”
Another man stood up in the crowd to address the assembly, but waited to speak until the lawspeaker acknowledged him. “My lord, us loggers have been having a wolf problem.”
“Oh? And what is the nature of this problem?”
“You see, my lord, the local snow wolves say that we haven’t been abiding by our treaties. No one has been hurt yet, but they don’t want us venturing further into the forest.”
“This will have to be addressed when the representatives of the Snow Wolf clans arrive in a few days. Until then, are you going to need security to carry out your tasks?”
“No, my lord. We’ve cut about as many trees as we can handle before winter, so it is just a matter of processing what we already have. I should be able to keep my men out of trouble by telling the wolves that this is all the timber we’ll need to stay warm this winter.”
“Good, but that will only be a temporary fix. Lawspeaker, I’ll need to see those treaty documents again before our guests have arrived.”
The lawspeaker was quick to nod in understanding at the Jarl’s command and satisfied the logging foreman sat down. Opening the floor up for others to speak, a mining boss stood up to fill the void.
“Winston, any news from the mines?” the Jarl asked.
“Yes, my lord. This summer we hit a new vein of iron that we’ve been able to trace. It seems to go under the river and into Ditter’s Ridge. The problem is we won’t be able to access the iron from our current mine entrances, so next spring we are going to need permission from the wolves to expand into that section of land.”
“I think we can get that done; those wolves don’t seem too attached to the ridge.”
“Of course, my lord. But if we start mining this new vein, we are going to need even more timber and labor next spring.”
“And I’m sure that can be arranged, Winston. Did you have anything else to report.”
“Yes sir, it is with great sadness that I have to announce an accident in the mine two days ago cost us a dozen lives and made several weeks of work for my men. The families have all been notified of the loss.”
The crowd’s energy cooled at this news. It seemed the lost men were well-known by many people. The Jarl picked up on this.
“That was indeed a tragedy, Winston, but I know you and your men did all you could to get them out. Give me the names of the families after the meeting and I’ll see to it that our treasurer is able to give them compensation and supplies to make it through the winter. When spring comes, we’ll be sure to add onto the memorial.”
Connor was somewhat surprised by this. He hadn’t heard of a king, or even a local lord for that matter, taking such steps for people in the throes of grief. If only one such lord had been in Maine. As each member of the assembly spoke of their news, Connor noticed Gerrick and they locked eyes. A smile formed across the man’s face, and he nodded in approval for Connor.
Liz was watching the meeting from a few feet away when she felt someone tap her on the shoulder. Turning her head, she smiled to see Sam standing there right behind her. In a hushed voice, she said “hello.”
“Liz, right?”
“Yeah.”
“The name is Sam.”
“You were that guard looking at me earlier when I rode into town, aren’t you.”
Sam looked down trying not to show his embarrassment. “Yes, sorry about that. It’s just, we don’t get a lot of outsiders around here, especially not a proper lady like yourself.”
“Well now, I wouldn’t say I’m exactly proper. You know Connor is my brother, right?”
“Oh yes. I hope he and I will be fast friends.”
“Well, you should probably know, he’s a bit overprotective of his kin. Long story, maybe he’ll tell you some time.”
“I’m certain, Liz, that your brother wants you to build a life here. That’s going to include courting a boy or two.”
“And is that why you’re here Sam, to court me?” Liz asked with a hint of sass in her voice.
“Oh, well, I wouldn’t call it that. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I just—”
“I never said I didn’t like it, Sam. Just want to give you enough warning to do things the right way if you want me to give you a chance.”
“So, what is the ‘right way’? I’m a little new to this.”
“Like this…” Liz then reached in a pecked Sam’s cheek, blood rushing to the boy’s face. He couldn’t even muster a word.
“Come see me at the inn sometime. I certainly don’t need my brother’s permission.”
“Oh, okay then. Well, I suppose I’ll see you soon.”
Liz winked at Sam as he disappeared into the crowd. She then looked over to see that Connor hadn’t noticed any of that conversation. He was too focused on the meeting. Oh, but Shadow noticed. She gave Liz a nod and a wink, so at least the only other girl in the family had her back.
Connor was starting to let his mind drift when he saw Gerrick step forward.
“My lord, there was one last piece of business to discuss, if you don’t mind.”
“Oh? Then go-ahead Gerrick, please speak.”
“We had some new visitors today.”
“We get visitors all the time Gerrick, so what about them?”
“Well, I guess I should call them residents. A new family has joined our town, Connor, could you please step forward?”
This took Connor by surprise, but he did as he was asked. Taking Asher off his shoulders and making sure Shadow had a hold of him, Connor stepped through all the people and between two of the long tables until he was visible to the whole room. He was nervous, having all this attention on him. But the Jarl smiled as Connor gave a small bow to show respect, not quite knowing the proper etiquette.
“So, this young man is Connor?”
“Y-yes, my lord.”
“Hey, you’re okay, please don’t be afraid. If Gerrick is correct, you plan on being part of this community anyway. Is your father here?”
“He… I’m sorry to say, my lord, but my father died.”
“Oh? Your mother then?”
“She… she has passed as well.”
“I’m so sorry to hear that, Connor. So who are you with.”
“Well, my lord, I’ve come here with my sister, Liz, my keidran friend, Shadow, a basitin named Asher, and my dragon, Zephyr.”
The crowd went silent for a moment before everyone burst with laughter. The Jarl wasn’t as amused though.
“Now boy, it’s rude to lie to your lord, you’re old enough to know that. Now, who are you actually here with?”
“He speaks the truth.” Gerrick confirmed, motioning for the rest of the family to step forward. Sure enough, Liz, Shadow, and Asher stepped toward the roaring fire in the middle of the hall while Liz flew down from the rafters and landed on Connor’s shoulder. The assembly gasped and gawked at this unlikely band of friends.
The Jarl was slack jawed for a moment before coming back to reality. “So, you are telling the truth. You have a basitin and a dragon with you?”
“Yes, my lord. Asher here, the basitin, I adopted him after the ship we were on sank in a storm. We’ve come up here so that he could be with other basitin. And Zephyr, well, she was an egg stored on that ship.”
Zephyr’s eyes glowed before jumping to the rim of the fire and bowing to the Jarl, instantly connecting everyone’s mind with her innate magic. “Yes, my lord, I am the last daughter of Nora.” The resemblance and visions were enough to convince everyone in the room. Some held their heads as the vision ended, not in pain, but because the unfamiliar intrusion.
“What? I-I didn’t know dragons could do that.”
“Apologies, my lord.” Connor said while shooting Zephyr a stern look. “She didn’t mean to cause discomfort, that’s just how dragons communicate… apparently.”
“I see. And this dragon, Zephyr, is yours? Like a pet?”
“No, my lord, of course not. She merely wanted to continue traveling with my party so that she could learn more about the world. Like Nora, she seems quite interested in humanity.”
“Well, anyways, on behalf of everyone here, welcome to Callow. We certainly are not strangers to oddities. If there is anything you need of me, you need only to ask.”
“Well, my lord, there is one thing.” Connor then motioned for his family to melt back into the crowd. “I am in need of employment, and as you can see, I have several mouths to feed. Captain Gerrick’s son, Sam, said that you could always use more people for the town guard.”
“Gerrick, can you confirm this?” the lawspeaker asked while looking at the captain of the guard.
“Yes, sir! My son tells me he’s a good lad. And just look at him, he’s young and strong, quite trainable, and he’s even brought his own sword.” Gerrick then pointed at the long scabbard hanging from Connor’s hip.
“May I see the blade, Connor?” The Jarl asked.
The teen did as he was instructed and removed the sword from its sheath before gently holding it out in front of him across both of his hands, then kneeling at the foot of the throne, sword held high above his head. The Jarl slowly got up from his seat and stepped down the stairs before gently taking up the sword in his own hands. The Jarl admired the blade in the dim light, running his fingers down it.
“This is a very fine blade, young man. How did you come across it?”
Connor looked up at his new lord, “It was my father’s, sir. He was a man-at-arms in his younger years.”
“Then perhaps service of this kind runs in the family. Go ahead Connor, bow your head down and don’t move.”
Connor felt the cold steel of the blade gently tap his head followed by his right and left shoulders. He then saw the lord’s hand extend down to his face.
“Kiss the ring, child, and you’ll declare your loyalty to me and this town.”
Connor gently grabbed the Jarl’s hand and kissed the ring.
“Rise up lad. What was your full name?”
“It’s Ulstad sir, Connor Ulstad.”
“Then by the powers invested in me as Jarl of Callow, I hereby make you, Connor Ulstad, a member of the town guard. Now, go back to your family and see Gerrick after the meeting.”
“Thank you, my lord, I won’t disappoint.”
“I have every confidence you’ll make a fine guardsman, now take your father’s blade and run along.”
The assembly then began to slam their fists on tables and clap. It was a basic ceremony, but it wasn’t common to have such a thing in the middle of a town meeting like this. Usually it was only with the lord, the captain of the guard, and a handful of others present. Once back with his family, Connor could barely stand. Just like that, he was hired as a guardsman.
The meeting was over soon after. First the Jarl stood up and exited, followed by his counsel. Next, the freemen and the elderly were allowed to exit, then everyone else. Walking out into the brisk night, Gerrick called Connor’s name. With a nod, Connor let Shadow escort Liz and Asher back to the tavern while Zephyr opted to stay perched on the teen’s shoulder.
“You made the right decision Connor. We’ll find permanent quarters for your kin, and you’ll get paid both with money and food.”
“Thank you, sir, I can’t begin to pay you back for this opportunity.”
“Do your best, boy, and you’ll pay me back a hundred times over. Now then, get a good night’s rest after your travels, and come by mid-morning tomorrow. We’ll start training you immediately and we’ll get you fitted with basic armor and weaponry.”
“Again, thank you sir. Would you mind of Zephyr joined?”
“Of course not. A dragon would be a great honorary addition to the guard. You should bring your sword too. I can tell you don’t have much experience with that one.”
“No sir, I don’t. In fact, most of my skill is in the bow, and even then, it’s just good enough to hunt.”
“Not to worry, lad, we’ll get you into fighting shape and give you some proper tools. Now go on and be with your family. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
The sun rose early, far earlier than Connor would have liked. Still, he was up and out of the inn with Zephyr by his side, taking care to be quiet as a mouse so as to not wake up the others. Strolling down to the great hall. As per Sam’s instructions, Connor found the headquarters for the town guard and walked in to find that Gerrick was already going about his work for the day.
“Ah, Connor! You’re here early, I like the spirit lad! Now then, follow me and I’ll see to it that you have all the equipment you need, then you’ll start your training.”
Following Gerrick, Connor found himself in the armory. Boiled leather, wool, and chainmail. The bitter cold would make any plate armor a death sentence for the wearer. A belt and a seax were also provided. All the clothing gave the teen’s lean frame more weight, though there were certainly pockets of space where muscles would eventually fill in. The armorer offered Connor a sword, but he opted instead to keep his father’s blade.
Paperwork, and signing a new contract followed. Connor made sure to read every word to ensure that no one from his family would be taken to be worked in his place should he ever die. Afterward was another tour, but this time pointing out all the defensive structures, the locations of supply stashes in case of attacks, the station that Connor would man in case of a siege, and where everything was inside the guard buildings. Finally at the end of all the tedious work, Gerrick brought Connor up to the wall to shadow Sam.
“Connor, you remember Sam?”
“Of course sir!” The teen shot a hand to shake his new colleague.
“Glad to see you in uniform Connor! It suits you.”
“Well… I’ll get used to it I suppose. Not used to wearing armor much.”
Another guard cleared his throat, which made Sam realize he was forgetting someone.
“Oh yes, and this here is Smith. His family came here a few months ago and, like you, he chose to take the cloak.”
“Smith, eh? Where did you come from in Mekkan, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“Riverton, sir.”
“No shit? I’m from Maine, myself. Just across the strait. And by the way, the name’s Connor, not sir.”
“Sure thing, I think we’ll get along just fine.”
“Indeed.”
“With pleasantries out of the way,” Sam said, “it’s time we start the route.”
“Don’t let me keep you boys.” Said Gerrick as he excused himself.
“Alright Sam, so what are we doing here?”
“Connor, what we are going to be doing is patrolling the walls. We’ll spend an hour on top of the wall, and hour outside the wall, and an hour inside. A total shift is twelve hours, and we do a full week in four days. Think you can handle it?”
“Well, my last job was 16 hours every day on the sea, so I’m just happy to be on solid ground this time.”
“Just wait until winter comes…” Smith said. Of course, he and Connor both knew that being near the coast afforded them a childhood of wet, but mild winters. Out here on the tundra it would be different. Their shift would continue for hours. Mostly, they sat in silence as befitting of guards tasked with keeping the town safe and peaceful. Of course, the occasional joke or short conversation would come up. Finally, as the sun was settling toward the western horizon, two guards came to relieve the trio.
“Alright gentlemen, back to the guard house.” Sam said to his two newer colleagues.
“Oh man, I can’t wait to get out of this armor.” Smith said with relief in his voice.
“You know Smith, you don’t have to wear every piece of armor you get issued. Connor over here is doing things right.”
“What do you mean?” Connor asked, mildly confused. After all, he had only worn what he was told to.
“The chainmail and wool makes for a far more comfortable shift than wearing thick plate armor. We typically just use that stuff when under attack.”
“Under attack? By whom?”
Sam explained, “The wolves, of course. In the early days, my dad said that the first settlers here would come under attack by the local snow wolves. It makes sense if you ask me, I’d be kind of pissed too if someone just decided to make my backyard their home.”
“Yeah, but we haven’t had problems lately.” Smith was quick to point out.
“True, but that was because Tostig’s father, the previous Jarl of Callow, brokered peace and made treaties. Just between us fellas, Tostig has been ignoring his father’s advice. The snow wolves are already mad about all the timber we’ve been harvesting and the new iron mines going up.”
“Really? I haven’t noticed a lot of tension.” Connor replied.
“I’m surprised, I would think you of all people would be able to feel the tension in the air.” Sam said.
“How so?”
“Well, you’re the only one of us who hangs out with a keidran. Heck, you seem to treat her like an equal. Most of the keidran in Callow are either laborers or slaves, only the snow wolves are free. They aren’t stupid you know, those wolves know that if humans gain too much of a foothold, it will be game over for them too.”
“I see. I guess that explains why so many of the town-folk were looking at Shadow when we rode in. She is a free keidran. I’m not her master, nor her employer. I’ll have to start paying more attention.”
“Best not let that fall on the wrong ears, Connor. There are some slavers out here too.”
“Smith is right, though I’m sure Shadow will be fine as long as she stays with your kin. The slavers are going after stray wolves mostly. That said, it’s especially important to pay attention to the snow wolves that come here to trade. While Tostig hasn’t told the guard to spy on visitors, we’re the eyes and ears of the town. If there is something brewing, we need to know about it.”
“Noted. Well, looks like we’re back at HQ.”
“Finally! I’m ready for a good ale after hiking around in all this armor.”
“Then let’s head in guys.” Sam led the way, motioning for Smith and Connor to follow. Gerrick was inside and ending his shift as well when his son and two recruits came inside.
“Ah, right on time lads! Connor, how was your first shift?”
“Uneventful sir, but I’m grateful to be stationed with a couple of decent guys.”
“Very good. You and Smith will be doing weapons training tomorrow before joining Sam, so I hope you two rest up tonight.”
“Yes sir!” Both teens replied.
“Oh, and Smith, why are you wearing so much armor?”
“I was, uh… I guess I just overdressed.”
“Well, I appreciate the enthusiasm, but you’re going to give yourself a heart attack if you try to lug all that around when winter comes. Just use mail and padding like the rest of us, okay?”
“Yes, sir…” Smith said before the trio walked passed Gerrick and headed to the armory to turn in their gear for the night. Truth be told, Connor was exhausted. Sure, he had rode and walked all the way across the continent with family in tow, but he didn’t have to wear sixty pounds of gear. Once out of his armor, Connor bid farewell to his two colleagues and made his way back to Anna Marie’s.

Hello everyone! It's been a while since I brought a character or a Stand from my novel, but today I would like to introduce you to one of the female characters that I had the most fun making together with her Stand power. I hope you like it, unfortunately I'm bad at drawing but I tried to be as detailed as possible with the description of both subjects, enjoy reading!
Andromeda Belotti is the head of the Belotti family, a group of vicious gangsters who have seized power within the city of Taranto. She has the support of the Trade Federation (although they are also business rivals) and a large number of corrupt soldiers from the Navy, who act as mercenaries and grant her immunity from law enforcement. Taking advantage of the instability created following the outbreak of war, Andromeda has created a criminal empire based on gambling, the trade in arms, drugs and even people who "hires" in their ranks or in their circles of prostitution to allow them to pay off their respective debts, while keeping them trapped within his clutches. She is an extremely sadistic and ruthless person who does not tolerate the slightest failure on the part of her subordinates, but is also particularly lustful and with a tendency to frequently visit the brothel to "add to her collection" the young women she considers to her liking. even going so far as to kill them in case he gets tired of them. Unlike her subordinates, Andromeda tends not to use firearms, as long as she is able to do so, but relies entirely on the power of her Stand, an attitude due to her fear of too loud noises since she was a child and which the 'led to learn to read lip and body language without being able to rely on his hearing.
Andromeda appears as a very beautiful, tall and buxom young woman, with full lips decorated with silver lipstick and long silky hair dyed pink, green and blue, parted in two ponytails in front of the shoulders and a third down the back. She wears a black top with green trim, skintight black leather pants with numerous silver glitter skull motifs reaching just above her ankles, gold glitter high boots, silver glitter elbow length gloves, wears a ring a showy golden ring engraved with the word "A. BELOTTI" in italics, a pair of diamond earrings and an arctic fox fur stole. She protects her ears with a pair of earplugs and soundproofing headphones, which she always carries with her.
STAND NAME: Ne Obliviscaris
STAND USER: Andromeda Belotti
APPEARANCE: The Stand looks like a lizard with bright white eyes, purple in color and with silver tiger motifs on the back of the body, legs and three pink, green and blue tails. The latter are pointed like a spear and can also act as a powerful whip. He wears a black bowler hat engraved with the letter "B" in gold.
ABILITIES: Ne Obliviscaris is a Stand that, when summoned, is able to automatically attack any target within its range that emits sound or that moves faster than Andromeda. The louder or faster the target is, the more the Stand will attack them with priority and ferocity with its tails. To facilitate himself in his task without being discovered, he tends to move stealthily within the floor, walls or objects.
Strength: B
Speed: A
Range: B (25 meters)
Durability: C
Accuracy: E
Development: C

HB 2005 - "Ghost gun ban"
HB 2006 - Prohibits person under 21 from possessing firearms w/ specific exceptions
HB 2007 - Public building/adjacent grounds concealed carry ban
OREGON RESIDENTS:
Pulling this from NWFA forum:
"Per the Republican leadership, these are the legislators to contact who might be either on the fence as to whether or not to support the pending anti-gun and anti-protesting bills, or who might be able to procedurally stop or hold the bills up:
Senator Woods: [[email protected]](mailto:[email protected])
Senator Gorsek: [[email protected]](mailto:[email protected])
Senator Meek: [[email protected]](mailto:[email protected])"