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fwoopersongs · 2 months

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[Book Rec + Reaction/Thoughts] The Lantern and the Night Moths 灯与夜蛾 by Yilin Wang

An anthology of translated poems by five modern or contemporary poets and accompanying essays by the translator, @yilinwriter.

You can find the pronunciation guide and list of corrections here!

The cover art, a beautiful expression of the tone of this collection, is by Taiwanese artist Ciaoyin (check out her gorgeous insta!). I'm looking forward to the arrival of the physical book as my tab absolutely does not do it justice xD

Anyway! The official release date is 02 April 2024 though there have been some very thoughtful reviews by early readers already. Here, here, here and here.

(It was an ARC that I received too… though in the time it took to put this together, the ebooks have already gone out to readers >.< typical snail yj!)

Instead, I’ll tell you who I think would be interested in this book or might benefit from reading it, then share things that are cool about it from the perspective of a bilingual hobbyist translator + lover of ancient poetry and lyrics.

Who should read it?

If annotations, translator’s notes and reflections spark joy for you...

If you’ve ever read poetry translations and been intensely curious about what goes on under the hood...

If you’re a translator yourself wanting to hear another voice...

Definitely check this out!

Also if you’re CN+EN bilingual and have ever read something in English that references Chinese terms and concepts etc. except ONLY in English, pinyin or wade-giles and been utterly frustrated by the ensuing guessing game (like me) Fear Not.

That will not be a problem here.

I really appreciate how Chinese words are used naturally where needed for concepts and quotes - they are also translated for those who can't read Chinese so no one is left out. It made this book of and about translation (and more) super comfortable to read! The solution is so simple, so direct, so rarely used that I am amused.

Oh, but do note that the Chinese characters are in simplified though!

The poems are organised by their writers who are listed here by order of birth year, not appearance in the book:

秋瑾 (Qiu Jin, 1875 to 1907)

废名 (Fei Ming. 1901 to 1967)

戴望舒 (Dai Wangshu, 1905 to 1950)

小西 (Xiao Xi, 1974 to _)

张巧慧 (Zhang Qiaohui, 1978 to _)

Altogether, that covers nearly the last 150 years up to now. I’ve never really been into poetry by poets in such relatively recent times, in part because I’d been holding on to this stereotype of them spurning Classical Chinese and ancient poetry in the first half of the 20th century (not entirely true, as I came to realise xD). It made sense and was understandable, but felt sad.

Yet am I the target audience for this book?

Very much so.

In ways I didn’t think I would be too! It was so much fun to experience this both as a reader and a translator that I thought I’d share it here, where we are appreciating Chinese poetry together.

If you didn’t think you’d enjoy modern Chinese poetry, hey, give it a chance!

Oh yeah - on the way home a while back, I was talking to a friend about translation and was surprised to hear that her impression was that it ought to be a straightforward process. Like isn’t it a 1:1 conversion? At some point, ‘what’s the difference between something google translate might return, and how you would say it?’ was asked, and oh that was a delightful question to my ears! I showed her one of my comparison sheets where an original text is laid out alongside multiple translations line-by-line, briefly explaining some common and unique choices and how the people who had translated those probably arrived at the various interpretations. She was pretty amazed to see that the answer to her question was: very different. Hey, it’s a complicated process!

But there’s only so much one can explain in the space of a train ride. That’s why The Lantern and the Night Moths is a book I would also rec to someone like this friend of mine - open minded and curious but never having the chance to think about or encounter the craft of translation.

Like Yilin says, ‘the meaning of a word cannot be fully expressed in one single translation, nor through a series of translation attempts’. She then explains why with great attention to detail and some solid examples from one of the poems with word choices loaded with subtle connotations :D

What's interesting about it?

Okay, for one, Yilin shared a playlist of music that she listened to while working on this book. Here is the link to the spotify one and the one on youtube. Check them out! They sure put me in the mood to read xD (favs: 别知己, 小神仙 & 去有風的地方) Afterwards, this made so much sense like - ah! an audio moodboard.

She's also putting together these adorable mini profiles of each poet along with a cmedia and tea rec to match their vibes. Go see them on her instagram xD

Now to business...

structure

What really helped keep the reader’s focus was the way each section is organized, how the poems and accompanying essay were presented and finally the short bio of each person right at the end.

The poets are first introduced through five or six of their poems, works well suited to this purpose. Their voices, distinct through the vision, ambition and emotion of their words, are brought across by Yilin’s sensitive, thoughtful and poetic translations into English. These translations were also creative and transformative in a way that made so much sense after reading one of her reflections on the process, how she ‘must guide it with gentle hands to ensure its spirit is kept alive and intact during this transformative, and often excruciating process’. A rebirth into another language!

Personally, I’ve come to think of reading translations as looking at a work through another’s eyes. So it’s delightful when the translator’s presence is discernible, and even more so when the reader is given insight into their intention and process via commentary.

Yilin’s essays coupled with the poets’ bios at the end provide a means to go back and appreciate their works in context of their circumstance and inspirations. Similarly, to read the translations with a changed perspective.

I don’t know how much of a thing this is with translated poetry anthologies in English - can count the number I’ve read with both hands lol, and they’re all of the ancient chinese poetry variety - but I really like this design.

drawing on poets who came before them

Remember how we’re always recognizing traces of inspiration from ancient works (to them) in poetry of the various dynasties? 李商隐 Li Shangyin of Tang for example, was influenced by 楚辞 Verses of Chu and folklore and mythology such as that in 山海经 Classic of Mountains and Seas, 李白 Li Bai frequently references poets and history of the 魏晋 Wei-Jin era, and 王维 Wang Wei was clearly familiar with Buddhist scriptures which were translations themselves!

Just like the late Táng poets whom he praised for boldly deviating from the voices before them, Fei Ming used popular references and tropey shorthands ‘in contexts utterly different from the original, reimagining them anew’. Dai Wangshu, too, ‘boldly re-envisioned what modern poetry could look like by revisiting the classics’. In fact, in his very relatable ‘To Answer the Visitor with Classical Imagery’, I see Li Bai’s 春夜宴桃李园序, Qu Yuan’s 离骚 and lots of - as the title says - classical imagery, as if pulling out painting after painting to describe a feeling.

And Dai Wangshu’s faith in the translatability of poetry, that ‘poetry isn’t what is lost in translation, but rather, what survives it’ reminds me of what a friend, @xiakeponz, said that I agree with so much - because readers can ‘experience something in their own individual way through (your) shared humanity rather than language alone’.

poetic tradition and beyond

Between the lines of contemporary poets Zhang Qiaohui and Xiao Xi, I can really see the charm of plain vernacular, how it can be beautiful, incisive and clever in turns. Even as it seems to have moved further than ever from the structure and language of literary Chinese, the themes that inspired common motifs remain a part of life. Mother and divinity, homesickness, finding oneself, tributes to admirable spirits and the issues that trouble society - just in a new form and with different ways of expression.

Qiu Jin

So many FEELINGS about what Qiu Jin was doing - ‘I awaken the spirits of women, hundreds of flowers, abloom’. I would love if she could see the world now. So many things for her to rouse and fight against, but at the same time just as many to be proud of. I am so in awe of her, but now hearing her loneliness and struggle there is a soft spot in my heart for those too.

conclusion

So so so…

Qiu Jin’s admirable fire and lonely resolve. Zhang Qiaohui’s precious ability to express beauty in the mundane and in pain. Fei Ming’s utter delight! He is having so much fun and when* I’m vibing, I feel it too. Xiao Xi’s critical eye and keen observation of the world. Dai Wangshu’s whimsical charm and passion for translation. Finally, Yilin Wang, the connecting thread wound through them all, bringing them together so that we may be acquainted.

*Reading his poetry is like unwrapping a seamless, many layered present. A gift that keeps giving - if only you have a key 😅 Fortunately, Yilin has halved our struggle 🤣

I’ve had such a great time with them all. And if you come, I hope you will too!

#The Lantern and the Night Moths #chinese poetry #Yilin Wang #poetry in translation #灯与夜蛾 #Qiu Jin #Zhang Qiaohui #Fei Ming #Xiao Xi #Dai Wangshu #rambly reviews #i read from Fei Ming onwards on my kobo LOL but that one has no colour so...#i might do more of these review-y rambles about poetry things if y'all are interested?#i've been reading LOL #some are chinese some are english #all of them fun and enlightening

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basilssunflow3rs · 8 months

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BASIL HC'S BECUSE IM BORED AND HE IS ME FR 🌱

He identifies as a demiboy with pronouns they/he

He is a vegetarian

He is gay and demisexual

Basil isn't his birth name, he chose it when he realised he was ftm

He has freckles over his cheeks and nose becuse of how much time he spends in the garden. In the winter they fade a little bit

After the good ending he dyes his hair blue

He has dyslexia and adhd (this is literaly just me projecting)

He prefers cats over dogs and ends up adopting a ginger cat. He calls it tomo

Has a Nintendo switch that he saved up for, his favorite games are stardew Valley, coffee talk, deltarune, and botw

His Polaroid camera broke so he gets a new digital one

He has a bit of an obsession with scented candles and owns too many. Most of them are some kind of forest scent

He drinks peppermint tea religiously

Is actually a really good cook (not as good as hero but still close)

Has really cold hands so he wears gloves/hand warmers in the winter

After the good ending he becomes really close with sunny again.

Loves studio ghibli, his favourite film is 'when marnie was there'

Sometimes writes letters to sunny instead of texting him. These letters will have photographs in and pressed flowers etc.

He has his ears peirced. Aubrey went with him to get them done.

Wears gold jewellery instead of silver.

Has really old friendship bracelets he never takes off

Tried to learn how to crochet but couldn't focus on it long enough

He listens to cavetown and mitski (and taylor swift but that's his secret)

Carries around crystals for luck

He only ever wears converse and has had the same pair for years. He can't let go of them.

Still sleeps with stuffed animals

Hums to songs when doing jobs

Always forgets to do homework so he ends up doing it last minute, on the bus.

Can't go anywhere without headphones, like is never seen without them

Sometimes when he needs advice he will call hero. (His older brother fr)

He visits maris grave often to place flowers for her. He still feels guilty for what happened but knows she would have forgiven him and sunny so he tries to not give himself a hard time. He often tells her about how sunny is doing.

Plays genshin and mains venti

He has blonde eyelashes and eyebrows that match his hair naturally

Had to have braces at one point

Watches horror films alone for fun. (Everyone finds this a bit disturbing but it's harmless)

Will cry when he finds anything overwhelming, positive or negative.

Wears cardigans all the time, some of them are from his grandma

Really loves sweet food and doesn't like sour things at all

Has a surprisingly high spice tolerance and will eat spicy food without any problems

Has a photography account on Instagram

His lockscreen is a picture of pot plants in his garden. The one in the centre is a white tulip.

Has a small collection of CD's in his room and prefers to play them instead of listen to music online.

Has an annotated copy of 'the picture of dorian grey'. Hero bought it for him becuse of the character basil in it. He loved it and has read it multiple times.

Sunburns easily so he wears sunscreen constantly

He's a little bit afraid of dogs but gets over it when he gets to know them

Gets car sick on long journeys so he sleeps to avoid it

Mint chocolate chip is his favourite ice cream flavor

Shows up early to everything so he can't be late and miss out on something.

Had a pokemon phase as a kid

Loves bugs, especially moths. he takes pictures on his phone whenever they land on him.

Spends most of his time at school in the library as he doesn't have many friends there. (Aubery doesn't bully him anymore after the good ending but has a new friend group, kel also has a new group)

Goes to therapy now !!!

Relationships with the main cast after the good ending :

Aubery - doesn't bully him anymore and talks to him outside of school (Took him to get his ears peirced and helped him with dying his hair)

Kel - not close anymore, they don't speak often but he will always say hi when seeing him.

Hero - becuse he is at college they don't see each other often but they have exchanged phone numbers and basil calls him often.

Sunny - similar to hero becuse he moved away but still extremely close with him. Basil considers him still to be his best friend. They call often and meet whenever they can. (Honestly he still has a small crush on him)

Mari - he goes to her grave quite a bit to talk to her. Despite everything he still tells her about everyone, what they are up to and how they are getting on. He finds it peaceful talking to her like he used to before the incident.

#omori basil #omori #omori sunflower #omori sunny #omocat #omori aubrey #omori hero #omori kel #omori mari #headspace #faraway town

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tabletoptrinketsbyjj · 1 year

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Trinkets, Books, 11: An eclectic library of dusty tomes, fictional textbooks, pocketbooks, paperbacks, hardcovers, booklets, leaflets and magical manuals. Paper leaves and the binding surrounding them can help define a character, kick off a subplot, fuel a fetch quest or simply serve as a generic macguffin. Commonly seen in video games such as Baldur’s Gate, Neverwinter Nights, World of Warcraft and Skyrim, book items are a way to subtly world build while still handing out sellable loot. A wizard has a spellbook, a cleric has a holy text and now you have a trinket list.

Malcom's Maladies: An autobiography originally intended as a tongue-in-cheek but informative guide to clerics and healers on dealing with social diseases, halfway through the process of writing a massive plague broke out. The writer, Malcolm, had to go from tending to the needs of a half dozen brothels to being the last cleric still alive in a city in dire peril. While he did his best to maintain his sense of humor, the subject matter and the jokes grow increasingly dark, and if you manage to laugh during the chapter discussing proper mass grave preparation you should probably seek therapy.

A heavily annotated recipe book of foreign cuisine.

A Hundred-One Candles: A short book that according to its inner binding, was originally a police report compiled by an officer of the Fortenshire Watch gifted with unusually sharp literary skills. Permission was later given to the officer to publish her work under a pseudonym. It is a recording of the contents of and investigative proceedings surrounding a home in the ancient canal-quarter of Sorelle, one suspected of housing a so-called "warlock." It begins with eyewitness reports of the strange comings and goings from that house's door at midnight, the lights inside, the terrible cries from its attic. It ends with a recounting of the building's interior following the obtainment of a raid warrant. Terrible sights were found inside. Most notably: A man’s body surrounded by a hundred and one red candles, its pores filled completely with the gestating chrysalises of strange moths.

A blank spellbook, its cover being of a pearly, scaled hide bound in black iron and with both lock and key attached by linen threads.

Lairs and Back Again: A damaged paperback that appears to be the autobiography of an unknown halfling and his career working as a freelance thief for a company of dwarfs. The majority of the text is a rather dull list of complaints about the working conditions, the lack of food, and the shoddy pay he initially received, but there is some useful information regarding the opening of secret doors.

A guidebook written by Yug Emos called "How To Train Mimics And Animate Armor", the starting phrase being "So you have found a tame mimic suitable for training…". At no point did it tell you how to obtain a mimic and assumed that you already knew how to carve ancient runes using long lost techniques into armor.

A leather-bound book, filled with pages of rough parchment. Each page contains what seems to be an attempt at a love poem. Each and every single attempt by the author at crafted a romantic prose is horrendous, bordering on criminally awful.

Nock, Draw, Loose! An Archer's Field Manual: A rustic book that depicts how to properly craft and fire a bow as well as fletch your own arrows. The manual assumes that the reader has access to nothing but a sharp blade and includes detailed instructions for every step of the process.

A medium-sized plain black leather-bound book, with the title “Party Jokes” pressed into the cover. The text is a weird mix of humorous anecdotal stories, one liners and the occasional funny illustration. None of the jokes are particularly new or funny but a PC fluent in Thieves Cant will be able to see that they are meant to disguise the actual content of the book which outlines numerous methods, tips and schemes for running illicit but nonviolent scams, frauds and confidence jobs.

A small booklet depicting the hand gestures employed in casting spells. It is a useful reference for those interesting in practicing magic themselves or those who work as guards, security or covert operatives who should be well-practiced at spotting mages. The preface says that copies of it can be ordered from the major printer of any large city.

—Click Here to be directed to the Hotlinks To All Tables post, which provides (As you might have guessed) convenient links to all of the loot and resource tables this blog has.

—Click Here for additional Book Descriptions to give these objects even more personality.

—Keep reading for 90 more books.

—Note: The previous 10 items are repeated for easier rolling on a d100.

A heavily annotated recipe book of foreign cuisine.

A blank spellbook, its cover being of a pearly, scaled hide bound in black iron and with both lock and key attached by linen threads.

Dark Trap: A book of madness that tells from a broken first-person narrative, of a lone gnome’s struggle to survive in an evil, subterranean land. He does eventually emerge from the depths, but he leaves his sanity behind.

Burden Distributed: A squarish brown book produced by the Teamsters Union. Extremely plain, unentertaining, but filled with unrivaled wisdom on the packing and tackling of beasts of burden. The book itself has lug-rings built into its spine, presumably for ease of carriage.

The Book of Screams: A normal looking leather-bound tome of about 50 sheets of vellum. A perceptive PC will become aware after a brief investigation that the leather binding is made of the skin of a human. Upon opening, the stretched leather face of the source of the leather is revealed on the inner cover. It immediately begins screaming in torment as though it were being stripped from the body it originated from. The screaming persists as long as the book is open. The vellum pages appear to be made from the same skin as the binding, although skived so thin as to be translucent. Closing the book muffles the screams. The screaming ceases one minute after the book is closed.

The Magic Mirror: A book that describes a soul trapping mirror and its concepts in exquisite detail, making the claim that the reason a mirror is the best vehicle for trapping souls is because it is beheld by the eyes, which are the most direct route to the soul. The inner back cover is mirrored, and currently has an ancient wisp of a soul still trapped inside, the presence of which is barely detectable: whispers, or a strange wavering while looking in said mirror, perhaps a feeling of being watched.

A green-leather bound volume with gold inlaid symbols on the spine and cover. The book only opens when exposed to moonlight revealing it to be a druidic research journal. It contains detailed drawings and notes of various wild creatures and goes into lengthy detail of how it feels to be transformed into such a creature and the benefits of that form. Druids and other mages who are capable of polymorphing magics find the journal an excellent source in regards to making the best use out of an animal's form.

The King in Yellow: A small hardback with a sickly yellow linen cover, the book is a play taking place in the lost city of Carcosa, revolving around three masked party-goers: Camilla, Cassilda, and The Stranger. Reading the first act has no effects, but the second act begins with the unmasking of The Stranger, and reveals truths so maddening that the reader takes some amount of mental stress and, after feverishly reading the entire play, feels compelled to pass it on to some unsuspecting person who hasn't read it yet. If this is person happens to live in a large population center, the PC’s may notice a new cult spring up around the cosmic revelations the book grants, worshiping The King in Yellow and waiting for his return.

Famous Magical Battles and Duels, A Critical Analysis: A historical reference book that contains extensive and detailed descriptions of some of the most famous cases of magical warfare. These conflicts range from singular duels between two mages, legendary contests of skill and honor between rival wizard academies to brutal wars of domination where battle sorcerers augmented their own natural abilities through occult pacts and blood rituals to be able to decimate thousands of soldiers with nothing more than a snap of their fingers. Despite the engaging subject matter it is written in rather monotone and dull manner.

Illithid, Aboleth, and other Aberration Behaviors: A simple scroll describes behaviors of aberrant creatures, such as feeding habits and mating rituals. However almost immediately after reading it, the information seems to leave the reader’s mind and he can only remember the title of the scroll.

Immutable Principles, Defining "First Level" Spells: A thick tomb documenting the history of spell complexity for a series of spells. The anonymous author argues certain specific keys are shared among spells that define their complexity and power, which are noted as a number. Every chapter is structured by breaking down a single popular spell, identifying the keys shared among most wizards discoveries. These correlations are summarized in chapter conclusions and theorize that no matter how unique the study or writing of a spellbook is, a spell is actually the use of fixed set of principles created by Arcane Deities. The anonymous author is rumored to be a Lich, as comparison of different "Level" books shows influence of various cultures throughout the ages.

A chapbook of Random Humanoid poetry with a wooden cover.

Controlling the Battlefield With Magic: A thick tome going into great detail on the subject of supernatural combat theory. It covers everything from the direct combat spells, ranged bombardment and offensive curses to the protective spells that enhance, heal or shield your allies and combat multipliers such as creating temporary fortifications, summoning creature to fight in your stead, teleportation and using the terrain to your advantage.

A large tome with the rambling writings of a madman.

Lady Katerina; Love is War: An illustrated novel that is prime example of spell caster using charm to influence each other to make them do anything. In this case Lady Katerina and Lord Sherlock are using their magic to make other person confess their love to them and subject themselves as their vassal while Cella Fagellita realm’s famous merchant are clueless about this battle. It is praised that the illustration on the inside cover show the correct Vocal tone and Somatic movement that make the spell as effective as possible.

A rare religious holy text of a minor Goddess of Random Domain containing a number of significant misprints.

A bootleg quarto of Vittoria Wolfsheart’s plays; The Thirteen Torments of Jacqueline Chandler, The Scarabs, The Miscreation, The Inquisition of Wolves, and The Gibbous Prince. The copies are poorly transcribed, riddled with errors and incomplete speeches.

A child's diary that talks about "Things under her bed".

A book of poems, Six-Sided Satire, ruthlessly skewering Hexian culture and politics in perfect dactylic hexameter, the traditional meter of heroic Hexian epic. The text portrays Hex as a city of pompous intellectual parasites and thieves, feasting vulture-like on the ruins of older cultures, appropriating their knowledge as their own, and then condescendingly lecturing other states and peoples about the virtues of Hexian “free-thought” and “innovation.” The text is anonymously authored.

The Forge: A book about the Infernal Forge and the magical weapons that have been forged there such as The Xan-Axe. Whilst the book was published legally, the government insists that the exact location of the Forge remains a secret, to prevent people trying to create unauthorized magical weapons and hurting themselves and others, and to stop the secret services of other nations attempting to use, destroy or steal it. The Forge is the only known source for magical weapons in the entire country where it is located.

Katriona's Time Among the Felines: A cloth bound book that tells a tale of a young adult who chooses to consort with a clowder of felines, and terrifying and fantastical things happen; but the anonymous author of the text makes no discernment if the tale is true or not. It warns of a Great Danger That May Be Avoided, but does not tell how such catastrophe may come about. Stuffed inside one of the leaves of the work is a small press-board square with several holes cut in it that align with some of the words on the page, as if used in some sort of code or cipher.

The Chronicles of Wayfinder: A journal from the late seldarine drow bard Vuhrak Wayvinder. Detailing his exploits and adventures with various parties as they journeyed through the overworld as well as the underdark. The book goes into great detail of various paths and puzzles through various dungeons and areas of the underdark written in vuhraks own hand. It also details various songs rhymes and drawings detailing his adventures. It is also rumored to detail through rhyming puzzle the locations of hidden stashes of various treasures Vuhrak was unable to carry with him.

The First Men: A historical reference book about the ancient culture and society of the long vanished First Men, but the last chapter is called Barrows of The First Men and says where the tombs of the Kings and nobles of the First Men are to be found and the right rituals and times to use to dig into them and reach the Dreaming Worlds inside them, and as such as a useful item for adventurers to have. Whilst the actual barrows have long since been looted and contain just old bones and pieces of pottery, the Dreaming Worlds still have much to offer if they can be successfully entered.

Rings and Things: A book about magical jeweler, it contains the details of 30 Rings and such rare artifacts as The Crown of the Storm. It also has a helpful chapter about Gemstone Magic and how to cast it, and another chapter about the dangers of the Gems of the Underworld as not all jewels and gemstones are safe for humanoids and the living to use. A must have for everybody interested in jeweler.

Codex of Leaves: A strange book made from bound wood and leaves details countless varieties of flora. It is written in Druidic.

Dwelling of the Ancients: A tome written in Dwarven that provides in depth but hyper-specific information on ancient ruins and inscriptions. Considered a definitive treatise on the subject of ancient civilizations and ruins, this book documents how several ancient cultures constructed their buildings and offers translations of several famous inscriptions found therein. The book, written by acclaimed antiquarian Naniel ibn-Nurth, also provides a short section on ancient scripts and languages, which can be quite helpful when attempting to decipher similar writings.

Necronomicon: A thick tome, heavy and cold, bound in dark, stained leather. Wherever the material came from, it feels too thin and elastic to make for effective binding. The grimoire is a repository of occult summoning rituals written in a prose that seems purposely obtuse, perhaps to weed out lesser practitioners of the dark arts. An excerpt of the tome reads as follows "...then say the words of Sealing - "Shem serep pftoss mavo igerso! Baiaf! Igerso!" - and kneel before the circles. Bow to them and pray thusly: The One All-Uniting who dwells in the dark, In the center of all Things you sleep, And may this darkness be dense forever, So no one see the glare of your Eye! And lo, the Thing will rouse and answer you..."

The Book of Dagon: An old damp book that contains information regarding a being known as Dagon, who will be familiar to knowledgeable PC's as a Great Old One, an aberrant deity who lives below the waves of the deep sea. The book is a translation, and a rough draft at that, littered with footnotes and corrections. Detailed inside are the rituals of Dagon's servants, including summoning and sacrifice, are intermixed with other advice. One dictates the proper breeding with humans so as to grow the Deep One's numbers. An excerpt from that section reads as follows; "Bring the slaves on the shore in the hour of high moon. Cut the skin in the lines of unholy names of Neshiartnam and Nsarag Amalkhassit, and mix their blood with sand in a pit. Place the dolphin's eye within and say thrice: "Ya Uztumem Krhash Ahaog Raa, Kev, Kev!" Let the slaves fall and crawl in the waters and direct your prayers to the watching eye of out Master."

Boatinomics 101: A well-bound book with water-stained pages inside, yet the ink on those pages appear unaffected. This simple guide provides straightforward advice to novice sailors on how to pilot and perform light maintenance on small sea vessels. It has an entire chapter on what to look for when inspecting a ship before booking passage on it or purchasing her. A reader who commits the instructions to memory may have a leg up during negotiations the price of a waterborne passage or an entire vessel.

Criminal Minds; Waterdeep: A soft-cover novel that contains a fictional mystery story based within Waterdeep. The protagonist is a brilliant but troubled investigator who is accompanied by a rotating cast of eccentric assistants.

Dr. Flatmantle's Guide to Combat Medicine: A blood-stained pamphlet that describes the location of key blood vessels in various creatures and methods of temporarily mending wounds without the use of magic. The techniques have a heavy focus on quickly stabilizing the patient so that they can be moved to a location where long term medical care can be administered.

From Urchin to Merchin': A small, black hard-bound book that can easily fit in a hidden pocket. This tome contains detailed notes on methods of upselling and negotiation.

History of the Realms; The North: An encyclopedia of sorts that seems to be part of larger series of books; it has detailed accounts of the northern kingdoms, landscapes, and people of import.

Maelsturth's Manual of Mammalian Beasts: A thick tome with a metal-wrought clasp to keep it shut, this book's pages contain forbidden occult instructions on the temporary conversion of one's form into that of a mammalian beast.

So You Want a Revolution?: A palm sized book bound in bright red cloth. The contents are famously outlawed in three different kingdoms, as the text details the ins and outs of seeding dissent, inciting riots and overthrowing political regimes.

The Archmage's Almanac, 11th Edition: A hard-cover book, many of whose pages are tattered and stained, this almanac details magical curiosities discovered and arcane experiments performed over a century ago.

The Key Master; A Life of Locks: A medium tome with a ribbon book mark attached to its spine. The book contains detailed sketches of a number of locks, their accompanying mechanisms and how to create, repair and unlock them.

Time Tested Tricks of Tongue Fighting: A tome familiar to many bards, this small hardcover book contains various quips and insults one can use in arguments.

About the Art of Fighting: A heavy tome bound in thick leather, its corners reinforced with heavy steel fittings. The pages are relatively rough parchment, to better withstand time and use, written in the clear handwriting of a dwarf. The book is lavishly illustrated with diagrams of stances and guards, bearing the images of differently armed warriors of great renown on their first pages. The manual contains the necessary exercises and teachings to learn to fight in any combat style from style from Archery to Zui Quan.

Awakening Your Inner Empath: A small, soft-cover book with insights into interpreting body language and facial expressions to better understand the emotions of common type of humanoids.

Abyssal Bestiary: Reams of paper held together by string and browned by the passage of time. Inside are drawings of and details on a number of eldritch “creatures”. The details mainly relate to how you may kill, injure or otherwise protect yourself from the beasts. The information contained within these pages may well come to save your live, if you are so unlucky as to encounter some of these beasts for yourself.

Old Diary: A dusty, but ornate red journal, bound in gold. A cursory glance through the pages reveals it to be the diary of a summoner. The diary is filled with information on the various creatures of the abyss and details on how to summon them. Minor creatures may be easier to summon, greater creatures may require specific conditions, grander summoning circles, or greater sacrifices. How the reader may come to actually controlling the beasts, the old book neglects to tell.

The Scripture of Law: A book bound in black leather with the rising sun symbol embossed in gold. It contains a religious text written by early disciples of the god Darlen.

The Barber‐Surgeon’s Manual of Trimming, Bloodletting and Teeth Pulling, with Illustrations: A well-read instructional manual bound in patchwork leather written by Mustafa Al‐Murai.

A handwritten journal containing detailed accounts of Tarrin Longstrider’s wanderings in the Tangled Wood. The book is bound in weather-stained brown leather and has seen much use.

A small handbook bound in white silk with gold tooling, purple ribbon, entitled “Countess Ludmilla’s Guide to Proper Behavior at Court for Ladies and Gentlemen”

A travel handbook bound in green goblin-hide and decorated with spidersilk entitled “Oglander Trell’s Guide to the Seelie and Unseelie Courts”. Perusing the guide provides the reader with knowledge about the intricacies of the fey courts and the basics on how not to disastrously embarrass oneself or cause great offence to the fair folk.

The Enlightened Wisdom of the Imans of the Crescent Moon: A sandalwood box marked with moon symbol and containing four fragile scrolls. The parchments contain handwritten religious texts from the southern city of Sabtah.

A magnificent painted papyrus scroll covered in hieroglyphics, illustrating the life of Queen Meritamon of Khemet.

Pirates of the Wine Dark Seas: A bound collection of far‐fetched pirate tales, wrapped in sea serpent‐skin and studded with pearls.

The Philosopher’s Stone: A book whose leather cover is marked with multicolored stains. Its pages contain extensive handwritten alchemical notes written Thadeous Glimfinger.

A beautifully illuminated psalter containing the teachings of Saint Barteas of Darlen. The book contains instructions on how a faithful layperson might break curses and cleanse desecrated ground.

Flora and Fauna of the Coral Sea: A bestiary and naturalist’s guide covering the monsters, animals and plants above and below the waves. The text is bound with wooden covers and decorated with bits of coral.

A dark green board-bound book with black Gnomish lettering entitled “On Envenomations”. The text focuses entirely on poisons, toxins and venoms and how to apply them to various traps and weapons.

A book entitled “Illustrated Sports” with a burgundy cover, illustrated with images of members of various races exercising. Every time you look back at the book, their poses shift.

A dark green, almost black book whose spine is decorated with a detailed depiction of a hideous tentacle. Entitled “Outsiders: An Illustrated Bestiary” The book falls open at a page discussing an entity known as Miraxia, and the pages then refuse to be turned.

A narrow volume with a puce cover and dark red lettering on the spine spelling out “Eternity”. The book vanishes instantly when a new reader opens it. 3d4 hours later it reappears among the reader’s possessions, filled with florid poetry dedicated to their first love.

A bloodstained folio that details accounts of favors owed, debts paid and deals made. A character who speaks the secretive cant of rogue's or has a background of criminal connections a written contract from an organized thieves guild.

A small pocket book filled with names each written with different handwriting. The names don’t seem to have any theme to them and very in gender, racial and cultural background. Traditional dwarven names tend to be written in dwarvish runes, female names with slightly more delicate handwriting, etc. If heat or a mild acid is applied to the pages, a series of various criminal activities (Such as burglar, enforcer, fence, forger, killer smuggler, ect) and vague addresses (Such as “The long alley between Sal’s general store and Sylvia’s Scissors) where they could be found. A knowledgeable PC can determine that all of the addresses can be found in the nearest large city.

A small leather notebook which contains extensive firsthand notes relating to celestial beings, their culture and their language.

Black Lotus Manual: An oblong tome covered in tan hide. Burnt into the cover are black lotus flowers and red Khitani characters. The volume contains descriptions of and lore about deadly plants and venomous creatures as well as the effects and symptoms of their toxins. Penned by the Sifu of the Khitani Black Lotus cabal, this tome is both reviled for its dark knowledge and illegal in most areas of the Known Lands, including the Khitani Empire.

The Cold Harbor Diary: A small, bloodstained, leather-bound book, filled with notes written by a northern soldier during the last civil war. Despite being made over a hundred years ago, it looks almost new. The pages are a uniform cream, the blood on the cover barely dry. The entries begin cheerfully, but become increasingly nihilistic and distraught as the diary goes on. The final entry is uncharacteristically short and to the point: “June 3. Cold Harbor. I was killed.”

A picture book with seemingly no story, only vivid illustrations of children running in the woods. Flipping back and forth reveals that the children seem to move when not watched, and there’s something they’re running from...

Architecture Fantastic: A well worn leather tome describing the fantastic structures built by mages. Within its pages are numerous interesting chapters such as; It's Bigger On The Inside! How To Get Your Floating Castle Off The Ground, How Not To Sink The 8-Ball In Your Pocket Dimension, Animated Structures; Cruising Saloons Not Moving Cartoons, Teleportation And You; How Not To Land In A Volcano, And Building On Enormous Creatures; Living On The Back Of A Giant Turtle.

A pocketbook of the local laws and regulations of the nearest large city. It is well dogeared and according to an inscription on the inside of the first page was owned by a member of the city guard known as “Corporal Bruno Miron”

A large sketchbook which is packed with detailed illustrations of various monsters, of which only some are from the region you find the book it.

A book bound in blue cloth containing myths and stories used to memorize the locations and constellations of important stars.

A cookbook written in Goblin titled “Cooking With Garbage”. Several pages have been torn from the chapter on desserts.

An old book which details a ritual called “Mending the Broken heart”.

A wanderer's waybook written by Jerval Sekara entitled “From Interesting Places and Tedious People”. The book contains a surprisingly large amount of good strategies for lone travelers and small parties to follow in order to see wonderful sights without being caught up in local politics, irrelevant gossip and small time questing.

The Chain: A small travel book of Hell Knight philosophy that encourages discipline through trial, whether such tests involve memorizing and meditating upon the Measure or exposing oneself to stress and pain that threaten to break the weak. At its more philosophical level, the Chain concerns itself with three virtues: order, discipline, and mercilessness.

Nuldy’s Compendium of Insect Inquiries: A strange book containing hundreds of pages of unique insects that any capable reader would believe do not actually exist. The text is written with such a knowledgeable factual prose along with detail anatomical sketches that it is hard to completely disregard the book as total garbage. An excerpt from a random page reads as follows: “In many regions of the civilized-yet-recluse world, communities are well acquainted with the infamous folklore of the Dung Beetle. These timid insects incite fear in commoners—they are a deadly infestation—and adventurers. Amassing large hoards of refuse, these beetles possess the innate magic to set dung on fire and fling it with amazing accuracy. Small explosions immediately follow something being hit by one of these flaming dung balls. A single Dung Beetle is manageable, but where there is one, there are said to be many more, and a swarm is a curse. Best to give this beetle plenty of space and keep your latrine clean.”

A chapbook entitled: “Whip It Good: A Life In Service to Lovitar". The introduction written by Abdirak, a worshiper of Goddess of Agony reads as follows; “The Maiden of Pain, Loviatar, teaches us that pain is a most powerful and sacred sensation. And should our pain delight her (Should we embrace such a gift) she will grant her most sacred of blessings.”

Magisterium Magicka: A thick, dry tome concerning the rights of wizards to pass on their knowledge and to choose which students they should accept for tutelage. The writing is highly defensive, as if the wizard in question had spent quite a lot of time being told that he should either never teach or that he should teach anyone who shows interest.

A musty encyclopedia that was originally penned in a legendary and long burned library.

The Mechanus Operations Manual: An incredibly heavy tome bound in steel with pages made of solid metal. It is presumed to be an artifact stolen from the Lawful plane of Mechanus and contains the ultimate instructions to control and maintain the entire realm, including its inhabitants. Unfortunately, the manual is written in a form of highly technical slang unknown to most non-inhabitants of Mechanus. Its precise attention to detail makes the text so large and uninteresting that none so far have managed to complete a reading of the text.

Dark Heart; The Lore of Life: A comprehensive tome designed to teach budding necromancers their first incantations to bring the dead back to life. The book starts off small, such as bringing small rodents back to life, and ultimately works up to bringing back dead family members.

Call of the Void: A strange tome written in an unknown language. Attempting to read it causes headaches and dizziness. If magically translated, it describes an elder god that lives in the void between stars, and methods to worship and communicate with it.

The Ballad of the Laughing King: A nihilistic tome detailing the personal account of an eccentric former adventurer calling themselves the Ebon Jester. Other than this book, there is no record of him existing. The book claims that the world and all those within it are simply constructs formed from the thought of a single all-powerful individual: the Laughing King. In the final chapters it alludes to the possibility of several creatures who may be free of the King’s direct influence, and the descriptions given eerily match the descriptions of the party’s PCs. While the Laughing King is not physically described, their personality and mannerisms are hinted at enough that insightful PC’s will understand that they are the DM.

GLORIOUS OOZE: A leather-bound book that is covered in a green, sticky ooze. If you can get the pages unstuck, they describe the teachings and tenants of Uur'glaz-lop, the Sinister God of Slime.

Spreading Joy: A religious tome made by a God of disease and plagues. The volume contains various rituals and spells for inflicting diseases of various levels of lethality and infectiousness.

The Ilyea'n Grimoire: A strange compendium of lore, poetry and incantations. The pages, most of which are of a parchment that is rough and unsettling to the touch and appear to its reader to be entirely blank. It is only when the reader cuts themselves and drips blood on the pages that the words are revealed; and much blood is required to read the whole thing. Knowledgeable PC’s are aware that according to occult lore, many are the foolish who have expired from self exsanguination or cumulative trauma in order to 'read just one more page' ...

Codex of the Anointed: A bound manuscript that's not so much written as tattooed on a thin, fine parchment of undetermined origin. Written in an (As-yet) undecipherable language by an unknown author, it is decorated with images that sometimes squiggle between the lines and sometimes stretch over a two-page spread. The images depict vile scenes of mutilation, murder, and ritual sacrifice. Examining it for more than an hour at a time provokes severe headaches with strange sensory effects, including coronas of burning light, flittering shadows of many-limbed creatures, and the pervasive smell of burning flesh.

Dreams: An ornate golden case containing a long single page scroll, made of papyrus that if examined, introduces the reader to the concept of ascension through meditation and study. The author believed that all of existence is a dream and that the gods are simply individuals that, like lucid dreamers, can manipulate the dream. Some say this scroll was written by an evil god to lure people in their grasp. Others believe these teachings were banned by the church because the gods want no further competition.

The Underworld Bartender: A recipe book of dangerous, distasteful, and downright disgusting cocktails. From the Beholder Blood Bellini to a hot rum toddy served in a human skull, this has it all. Recipes are interspersed with edgy, and questionably plausible, tales of high crime.

The Chronicler’s Book: A faded green book, thick, and of a skewed geometry: five unequal sides, bound in a spiral along one short edge. The cover appears to be made of a rough leather. Touching the book (While trying not to think about its eerie geometry or the nature of the leather in which it is bound), one senses the presence of a powerful, alien intelligence.

A severely dog-eared arcane volume entitled “When the Dawning Light Strips the Fat From Beneath My Arms, the Gate That is Not a Gate is Eroded Open for One-Who-Is-Now-None to Seep Through Eyes Within Eyes”. The text is nothing but a rambling, incoherent string of word salad that is nonetheless a practical guide to interplanar travel. By strictly following the bizarre sequences of meaningless actions and chanting the meandering chapters-long verses, the reader will find themselves on another plane. The technique fails to transport the book itself, stranding the reader unless they've committed the entire text to memory.

A heft manual filled with banned alchemical formulas and heretical arcane fleshwarping techniques, entitled “Chimaeramancy”. The author (Damo Krail) was a vile mage obsessed with creating the ultimate beast. The text describes how to create chimeras via a clearly outlined and easy to master system of magic and genetics. It describes how to combine any two animals, up to five animals, and which animals combine best, culminating in her masterpiece: the fabled Eldritch Chimaeras, a beast powerful enough to take down parties of heroes, armies, dragons, krakens, and even lesser gods. With this book, the available resources, and the will, could make (potentially) unlimited monsters of all sorts of power.

The Dark Secrets of Tarokka: A lengthy treaty written by a very hands-on researcher about the occult origins and uses of tarokka decks. It details the many cults and sects the author infiltrated over time in order to learn about unholy rituals they enacted, and how they used the cards in order to commune with dark forces and gain their favor. As the book goes on, the author slowly begins to piece together bits of information that apparently lead to something truly horrific, and right as he's about to detail the last piece of the puzzle that he had just found, his writing turns into unintelligible ramblings. The afterword found right after that is a dire warning to all those who dare to try and follow in the author's footsteps, and is allegedly signed by an archdemon, ancient one or some other kind of sufficiently powerful embodiment of evil and/or chaos.

The Trials of the Forsaken, by Bertram Wondles: A unique, ornate and gilded tome bound in some sort of tanned and scraped hide begins as a treatise on the depredations of the criminals known as the Forsaken. As the author writes the heavily researched stories, it becomes clear that with each new revelation described within, the author's madness and envy of the Forsaken grows. Quickly, the documentary writing shifts into more of a manual of praise and worship, detailing the dark rites of the path that the Forsaken walked. At the conclusion of the book, it is revealed that the binding of the book is none other than the flayed skin of Bertram Wondles himself. This book radiates a subtle but insidious evil that corrupts readers and holders alike.

Tome of Higher Constellations: A huge book created by an anonymous scholar in Prague, for the library of Rudolf II. The first half of the book consists of astronomical tables: meticulously compiled and corrected, but nothing out of the ordinary. However, the second half introduces more charts, graphs, from a wide range of sciences natural and occult. Through complex calculations these are cross-referenced with the heavenly constellations. Uncanny patterns, otherwise hidden, emerge… making it possible to trace and predict the finest shifts of the celestial spheres that command the fate of the whole universe. The final result is a single date in the future, when all factors align, and major, cosmic changes are possible. Actions undertaken on that day will bear major consequences: warlords bent on world domination crave to know this date, alchemists and mages seek it as the date of their opus magnum or most complex ritual…

The Voynich Manuscript: An illustrated codex, hand-written in an otherwise unknown writing system, that can only be described as 'Voynichese'. The vellum on which it is written is over 500 years old and stylistically appears to have been composed during the renaissance of that time period. The manuscript currently consists of around 240 pages, but there is evidence that additional pages are missing. Some pages are foldable sheets of varying size. Most of the pages have fantastical illustrations or diagrams, some crudely colored, with sections of the manuscript showing people, fictitious plants, astrological symbols, occult formula, mystic equations and arcane schematics. The text is written from left to right. The manuscript is named after Wilfrid Voynich, a book dealer who was the first person recorded to have purchased it nearly half a millennia ago. Since that time it has believed to have been held in Beinecke University's Rare Book and Manuscript Library. Knowledgeable PC's are aware that the origins, authorship, and purpose of the manuscript are debated. Various hypotheses have been suggested, including that it is an otherwise unrecorded script for a natural language or constructed language; an unread code, cipher, or other form of cryptography; or simply a meaningless hoax. The Voynich manuscript has been studied by many professional and amateur cryptographers, including military codebreakers. The manuscript has never been demonstrably deciphered, and none of the many hypotheses proposed over the last few hundred years have been independently verified. The mystery of its meaning and origin has excited the popular imagination, making it the subject of study and speculation.

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summerinaglass · 11 months

Text

I’m speechless at the audacity.

Long thread but in (long) summary, the British Museum stole Chinese-Canadian translator and author Yilin Wang’s translations of poems by Qiu Jin (literally word for word!) for use throughout their displays, brochure, catalogue & other media for their major new exhibition “China’s hidden century”. She was neither contacted nor credited anywhere for any of her work.

This exhibition was the culmination of “a four-year research project [...] in collaboration with over 100 scholars from 14 countries”, that received at least £719,000 (~$900,000) in research funding, with £18 ($23) admission prices.

From Yilin Wang's thread: “I'm not a translator working on a handful of translations of QJ's poetry; I'm slowly working towards a book-length translation. For this work, I have close read through all 200+ of QJ's poems about five times. I have published around a dozen or so. Speaking generally when it comes to my poetry translations, they take about a week to several months, perhaps an average of 20-50hrs per poem including selection, background research, annotating, translation, revisions, and seeking feedback.”

She initially called for the museum to remove all her work, unless offered immediate + appropriate compensation, and later asks for credit and public apology everywhere her translations appeared, as well as personal apologies and accountability from the exhibit organizers.

According to Yilin Wang, the first correspondence via email from the British Museum neither acknowledged their wrongdoing nor apologized. The museum then offered to send a "permission form", but then without giving her more than a day to respond, informed her that they removed all her translations and offered £150 ($190) for previous use of her translation + its continued use in the existing books, refusing to credit her in the exhibit as they already removed her work.

The British Museum issued a public statement acknowledging this copyright issue, calling it an "unintentional human error" and "inadvertent mistake". It then continues, for fully half of the statement, to talk instead about the exhibit's complexity and the efforts of the vast number of people involved ("over 400 people from 20 countries"), and condemning that their "colleagues have been subjected to personal attacks on social media", saying "we stand behind our colleagues fully."

Later, someone visited the exhibit and replied to her thread with photos, saying “every single ‘featured’ quote through the exhibition so far is presented without a translator credit. [...] The only one (so far) that credits a translator was translated by..... Julia Lovell, one of the lead researchers," and that all text (poetry and translation) in Qiu Jin’s section of the exhibit was removed. Indeed, in the accompanying exhibit guide (pdf), Lovell is the only translator credited (for one display only), though there is an extensive acknowledgments section at the end, including a long list of authors (?) and various construction, audio, and visual design.

So clearly, the concept that translation deserves (and requires) attribution is not unknown to them. Where did all the other translations in the exhibit come from? (Extra ironic that the only credit is to a lead researcher of the exhibit! since of all people who should be, I’d least expect her to be credited, given she's already associated with the whole exhibit...) Also appalled at their entire solution being to simply... try to erase everything. Again, this is one of the largest museums in the world.

I've been following this daily, astonished with each utterly disappointing update - it appears a fair and amicable solution will not be forthcoming, so I hope she takes them for all they're worth.

https://invisiblepublishing.com/product/the-lantern-and-the-night-moths/ to support the translator by preordering her upcoming anthology of translations of Chinese poetry, including poems from Qiu Jin.

#the british museum #yilin wang #translation

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thetravelerwrites · 5 years

Text

Fuzz (MLM Mothman) Lemon

Rating: Explicit Relationship: Male Human/Male Mothman Additional Tags: Exophilia, Mothman, Male Reader, Male Monster, D&D, Dungeons & Dragons, Tabletop Gaming, Interspecies Romance, Social Anxiety, Gay Monster, Gay Male Character, Gay Sex, Anal Sex, Safe Sex, Condoms Words: 7185

A fun commission for @severedreamerbeard. A man meets a shy silkmoth mothman in a hobby store during a free comic day, and invites him to play D&D with his friends. Please reblog and leave feedback!

The Traveler's Masterlist

Free Comic Friday always drew a huge crowd in your favorite local comic shop, but it was packed to the rafters today. The first issue of a graphic novel reboot had dropped and they were offering five hundred free copies, first come first served. You’d been dying to get your hands on it since the reboot had been announced, and you couldn’t believe it was finally out.

Happily swinging the bag around, you didn’t leave immediately once you got your copy like most of the crowd had done. This was one of your favorite places to hang out. It wasn’t like a lot of comic shops that seemed to only attract one demographic; there was always a nice mix of different people. Tabletop gamers, comic enthusiasts, collectors of various nerdy things, cosplayers who needed supplies to make their costumes: all sorts came through here and you loved it.

You got a text from your friend, Shannon, who knew you’d be there and snickered. She’d lost her D20, again, and wanted you to pick up another one in blue, preferably with sparklies so that it matched her current favorite set. Rolling your eyes and smirking, you headed for the dice aisle.

To your surprise, there was a very large, tall mothman standing there, though he was hunched over a little, rolling a die over and over. It was a new type of die that lit up when you rolled it, and the moth’s eyes brightened every time he saw the lights inside activate.

He was almost all white and extremely fluffy; the fluffiest part of him was the ruff around his neck. His large wings were folded against his back, complete with long tails on each like a lunar moth. He had four arms, the top pair larger than the lower pair, which were sort of wrapped around himself, and his hands had two long, large fingers and a thumb each, all a velvety brown in color. He wore no clothing, only a baseball cap with his brown, feather-like antennae sticking out of the holes at the top. The cap said “Will Work for Cuddles” on it.

Mothmen were rare, and you’d seen one or two before, but you’d never been close enough to one to actually talk to them.

“That’s a great set,” You said. “They just got them in last week.”

The mothman jumped, startled, but he grinned a little. “Heh…” He stammered nervously. “Yeah. I… I hate to perpetuate a stereotype, but I am attracted to things that light up.”

He spoke softly, like he was nervous people would hear him. It was cute, but you almost worried about him. The poor thing must have been terrified to come in here with so many people, but the pull of nerd junk can be strong sometimes.

“Do you play?” You asked him, gesturing at the die.

“Play?” The replied, confused.

“Yeah, D&D,” You said, and after a moment of him continuing to look confused, you elaborated. “Dungeons and Dragons. The tabletop game. What you use these dice for.”

“Oh!” He exclaimed, fidgeting. “No, I… I’ve never played. I’ve always wanted to, but… none of my friends are into nerdy stuff like I am. That and I’m kind of new in town, so I haven’t met many people yet. I was lucky to find this hobby shop. I was just walking past and saw it and figured I’d stop in. Is it always this busy?”

“On free comic day, absolutely,” I said with a smile. “So... not to be creepy since it’s literally the first time we’ve met, but my friends and I play every Sunday evening. We’re actually about to start a brand new campaign. You’re more than welcome to join. If you like, you can come ‘round Saturday at lunch and we can build you a character sheet, so that your prepared for the campaign.”

“Really?” He said, his voice timid but excited. “I’d love that! Thanks so much!”

“It’s no trouble,” You said, pulling out your phone. “Here, put your info in my phone and I’ll text you my address.”

He took your phone with a big grin on his face and put in his number. You took your phone back and looked.

“Fuzz?” You asked. “That’s a little on the nose, ain’t it?”

He laughed, a really pleasant sound. “It’s a nickname. Uh…listen… I… I’m actually on my lunch break, so I need to get back to work, but… I’m really looking forward to playing with you and your friends. I’ve always wanted to try.”

“We’d love to have you,” You told him, smiling. He bade you farewell and left, looking back before he headed out of the door and smiling widely at you one last time.

You looked down at the light-up dice, pursed your lips, and snatched up a whole set of them plus a carry bag. You were halfway to the check out when you realized you forgot Shannon’s D20 and doubled back for it.

The next day at lunchtime, Fuzz arrived at your home with pizza in his hand. You were going to throw together some grilled cheeses, but this was way better.

“Thanks, man,” You said, taking it and setting it on the counter in your apartment.

“No prob,” Fuzz replied. His neck ruff seemed to have been brushed shiny and the hat he wore today said “Nap Champion.” “I didn’t know what kind of toppings you’d like, so I just went for a good ol’ cheese.”

“I love cheese,” You told him. “I’ve got you a fresh character sheet printed out and the manual ready. You can look through it while I’m plating this up. What would you like to drink? I’ve got soda, beer, water, and apple juice.”

“Is it… weird if I ask for juice?” He said shyly, hunching his shoulders. “It’s better for my stomach than the other things.”

“Apple juice it is,” You said, pouring a glass. You took the plates and cups to the table, watching Fuzz go over the character sheet with a dumbfounded look on his face.

“I am very confused,” He murmured, almost to himself.

You laughed. “Well, that’s why you’re here. I’ll teach you.” I sat next to him and took a big bite of pizza. “Okay, so, first, you’re going to choose your race. It makes everything after that a little bit easier. I know this sheet tells you to choose a name first, but choosing a name is easier if you know what race you are, because certain races have naming conventions. Like, Tabaxis have tribal naming conventions, so you can’t choose a name like… Frank, for example.”

“Got it,” Fuzz said.

“Take a look at mine,” You said, pulling out your own character sheet full of annotations and stats. “My character is a calashite human cleric, which is like a priest, devoted to the god of knowledge, and my alignment is Lawful-Good. Now, most races will have default alignments, but you can decide what you want yours to be.”

“Okay,” Fuzz replied, trying to keep it all straight. “Hmm… are there any insect races I can play as?”

“Unfortunately, no,” You told him. “But, the cool thing about fantasy is that you can be whatever you want.”

“But I want to be a bug,” He said dryly.

You snorted. “Just look through and see if there’s something you like.”

“Oh!” He exclaimed, pointing at a drider. “That’s a bug!”

“That’s an arachnid,” I pointed out.

“Same difference,” He said.

“Don’t spiders eat moths?” You joked.

“I will take my pizza and go home, mister,” Fuzz said, poking fun right back. You were glad he was getting comfortable enough with you to joke around.

“Driders aren’t playable either,” You replied, laughing. “What about a shifter? That way you can take on aesthetic characteristics an insect, if you like. And the single-skins have white hair, like your fur.”

“Okay, okay,” Fuzz said. “What about a name?”

“Shifters usually have monosyllabic names, so anything you can think of with a single syllable.”

“Like Fuzz, you mean?”

“Are you really going to call your character by your real name?” You asked, smiling.

He smiled back, his lips the same velvety brown as his antennae and hands. “I told you, it’s a nickname. Trust me, it’s better than my real one. Only my parents and siblings know that.”

“Not even your girlfriend?” You asked him.

“Ah… no girlfriend,” He said, shrugging shyly and ducking his head, his antennae waving a little erratically. “I.. uh… don’t lean that way, if you know what I mean.”

You waved your hand. “I’m bi, so no judgment,” You told him, and he relaxed.

You both settled on alignment, level, and class, and then it was time to roll for his stats.

“Oh,” He said with a frown. “I… shit, I don’t have dice.”

“No worries,” You told him, taking out the bag you bought and rolling out the light-up set he’d been admiring.

“You bought those for me?” He asked, his shyness returning, reaching for the bag with a cautious grin.

“Yep,” You told him. “It’s no big deal. I knew you’d need a set and you seemed to like these, so I just--”

You were cut off when he grabbed you with his large upper arms and hugged you. God, his fur was soft. You’d never actually touched it before now, but with your face pressed against it, it was softer than angora and smelled like fresh herbs.

He released you suddenly, as if catching himself doing something he hadn’t meant to do. “Sorry, sorry… that was just… really nice of you.”

“Hey, it’s totally cool. I’m a hugger, too,” You told him, patting his upper shoulder. “Alright, let me show you how the dice work and then we’ll roll for your stats.”

You’d had a great time with him fleshing out his character, and once he got over his initial shyness, he was one of the funniest people you’d ever met. He had you in stitches until dinnertime, when he told you he had to go home and unpack. Apparently, when he said he’d just moved there, he meant just. You got another hug as he left, and it was just as soft and warm as the first one.

You felt a little disappointed after he was gone and couldn’t wait to see him the next evening.

For the next twenty four hours, you felt fidgety and restless, excited to see Fuzz again and start the new campaign. Rick had been working for weeks on the plot and obstacles, and he was always the best DM.

Fuzz met you at your house wearing a ball cap that read “Don’t Mess with Me*” and in fine print under the asterisk, continued with, “I’ll Cry A Lot and It Will Be Uncomfortable for Both of Us.” He gave you one of his warm, cuddly hugs and rode with you to Rick’s place. Rick, Shannon, Dag, and Jenna were standing out on the porch with sodas and beer, talking and laughing, and they saluted you with their various beverages as you drove onto the driveway.

“Hey, buddy!” Rick said as you got out of the car. “This your new friend?”

“Fuzz,” The shy mothman said, tentatively reaching out a hand.

“Ha! That’ll be easy to remember,” Rick said, shaking his hand. “I’m Rick. This is Dag.” Rick pointed at a large orc with a sort of a gold tan over his light green skin who gave Fuzz a half-salute. “Jenna.” She was a human with dark skin and tight curls who waved at Fuzz with a bright smile. “And Shannon.” Shannon was part fae, you knew, but you were never sure what her exact nature was. But, then again, all fae were like that. She had pearlescent skin and rosy hair cut short and buzzed on one side. Her bright green pupils were slitted and just a bit too large for her face. Fuzz ducked his head and and gave a little nod each time someone was introduced, trying to make eye contact.

“We’re just waiting for Russel. Can I get you something to drink?” Rick asked Fuzz.

“Do you, um… do you have water? Fizzy stuff makes me a bit sick,” Fuzz said.

“You got it, bud,” Rick said, reaching for a bottle out of the cooler.

Russel was Rick’s twin and lived next door, but he was always late. You didn’t understand why, but Rick shrugged and said he’d always been like that. It’s why Russel wasn’t allowed to DM.

Russel wandered over about five minutes later, and an a minute or two after that, the sushi that Rick ordered showed up. After paying, the seven of you went into the house to get started.

“Okay, so, everyone has their completed character sheets ready to go?” Rick asked, and you all held up your papers while stuffing your faces with california rolls. “Good. Dice? Minis?”

“We didn’t have time to make Fuzz’s mini,” You said.

“No big deal, I’ve got a ton of spares. I always keep a few blanks on hand because of this dingus over here.” He gestured at his brother. “He always forgets to make a miniature.” Rick handed Fuzz a box with blank miniatures in it, carefully separated by foam. Fuzz picked a slender humanoid and set it in front of him.

“Now,” Rick said. “If we are all ready to proceed?” He looked around the table and everyone nodded. Fuzz was shifting in his chair with both nervousness and excitement. “Very well. Our adventure starts in the midst of chaos! Inside a small inn of the road inside the land of Turmish, on the edge of the Sword Coast, a bar fight is raging. The bar is affectionately known by travelers as The Drunken Worm, and for good reason. Currently, though, windows are being smashed up, tables are being thrown, people are flying through the air, there is an absolute roar of voices drowning out any other sound. And in the midst is someone trying to calm the turmoil, only to have a chair smashed over her head. Shannon, that would be you, please describe your character.”

“Okay,” Shannon said, bouncing a little in her seat. “I am a very large, dark blue dragonborn named Anshez. I have a shortish snout with sharp teeth jutting out of my lips. I have two sets of horns on my head, which now have bits of wood dangling from them, and three lines of ridges down my back to the tip of my tail. My eyes are blue as well, and I’m wearing contrasting light blue robes with slits up to my knees for easier movement, and I have a large bastard sword strapped to my back.”

“Excellent,” Rick said, writing that down. “Now, for the unfortunate person who was wielding that chair.” Rick pointed at you. “What is your character?”

“I’m calashite human cleric,” You said. “My name is Khemed Pashar. I’m quite up there in age, as far as humans go; before I decided to travel, I spent forty years in a monastery in study and prayer. I have greying hair and a pale complexion, and I’m wearing white robes with a green panel down the front lined with silver embroidery. The panel has the insignia of the god of the pursuit of knowledge, Oghma, my patron. My only companion is a guide I hired a few days ago.”

“Why is a cleric hurling chairs?” Dag asked.

“I’m just going with the story, man,” You said.

“Anyway,” Rick said. “Anshez, who was once trying to calm the situation, is now slowly drawing her blade from the sheath on her back. Suddenly, someone appears and grabs her arm.”

“That would be me,” Jenna said. “I am a mustard yellow tiefling ranger named Varan, with horns and hooves that are shiny black. My eyes are also black and reflective. I’m wearing a knee-length dress of tightly woven chainmail and a leather vest over it. I have bracers on both my lower and upper arms. I grab my friend’s arm to stop her from hurting the frail looking human and try to calm her.”

“Roll a persuasion check,” Rick said.

“16, and I have a +2 advantage,” Jenna said.

“You are successful in talking down your partner, though she is still angry.”

“If I apologized, would she forgive me?” You asked.

“Roll for it,” Rick said. You rolled. Nat 1. The table burst into uproarious laughter.

“She would not,” Rick said with a chuckle. “In fact, she can barely hear your apology over the din, so she thinks you’re mocking her and she’s now holding a grudge against you.”

“Shit,” You said, grinning.

“Can I jump in?” Fuzz ventured cautiously.

“Definitely,” Rick said. “Your character?”

“I’m a wildhunt shifter druid,” Fuzz said. “I’m just under seven feet tall, and my current mask takes on the characteristics of a brown bear. I’m wearing a hat with a veil that covers most of my face and a pair of loose pants that doesn’t obstruct my movement. I’m in the employ of the cleric; he hired me to be his guide.”

“Good, good.” Rick makes notes. “Your name?”

“Fuzz,” He said.

“Your character name,” Rick said.

“That’s is my character name,” Fuzz said with a shy grin.

Rick snorted. “Okie-dokie. What are the two of you doing in all this?” He asks Dag and Russel.

“We’re bards,” Dag said. “I’m a halfling playing a fiddle.”

“A halfling? Really?” Tiny Shannon said, snickering.

“You’re a dragonborn, shut up,” Dag said, and Shannon giggled, playfully slapping his arm. “My name is Taurin Goodwort. My companion and I are on the small, dingy stage in the corner, trying to play over the noise. We’ve been paid, so by gods, we’re going to do our jobs. I’m wearing a coat that’s slightly too big but my clothes underneath are finely tailored and well fitted. I’m a dapper dude.”

“I’m also playing, but I’m a lute player,” Russel said. “I’m a grey tabby tabaxi not much taller than my halfling friend. My name is Game of Chance, but I go by Chance. My clothes are flashy and covered in shiny trinkets and bells that jingle to the beat when I stomp my paws.”

“Aww,” Jenna said, scratching behind Russel’s ear. He whacked her hand away, and she grinned.

Once the introductions were finished, the campaign was underway. Despite the chaos of the bar fight, the six of you hear the woeful tale of a patron of the bar, a missing son, an actual dragon, an actual dungeon, and all the traps that is implied. Fuzz opened up slowly as the campaign waged on, and his druid had the party in howling with laughter by the end of the night. When the seven of you wrapped up for the night, Fuzz had an open invitation to come back, with or without you.

Fuzz came to every Sunday session from then on, and though it took him some time to get over his anxiety around people, he swiftly became friends with everyone at the table. Despite how much he and the other were getting along, though, he always sat next to you. Perhaps even though he was getting over his shyness, he was still more comfortable next to you.

You weren’t complaining; you liked being close to him. In fact, the two of you had become really good friends, having lunch twice a week and texting constantly. You had your phone in your hand at all times, waiting for his response. You’d woken up with a dead phone on your chest on a number of occasions.

One weekday, after painting his miniature, he took you for dinner, although he didn’t know any good spots since he was still new in town and told you to pick. You decided on Japanese, though the restaurant was a bit full, and it made him nervous. You offered to go somewhere else, but he said it was fine and that he’d brave it, but only for you, making you blush a little. You grabbed his hand and led him through the throngs of people, and his grip tightened on yours.

It took a month for you to realize that… maybe you weren’t just feeling friendship for Fuzz. You liked him a lot. You thought about him all the time and looked forward to his hugs and touching his fur and listening to his laugh and the chittering noise he made when he was happy or excited.

Then, one late evening after the two of you had said goodnight, you had other thoughts. You wondered what his… intimate parts looked like. What they felt like. What they tasted like. And the idea excited you. Thinking about it, you felt yourself getting hard, and you stroked yourself to the thought of touching him, finding out where his private places were and playing with them, and teasing them. Kissing him and cuddling him and getting him to make those cute noises you loved to hear. You moaned at the thought, jerking faster as your imagination ran away with you. You came all over your hand and stomach, gasping and sweating, but it wasn’t what you wanted. You wanted him. Nothing else was good enough.

During the sixth session after Fuzz had joined the campaign, when he wore a cap that just said, “LAMPS!” in big, bold letters, your party had located the lost bar patron’s son, but he was a mind slave to an aboleth, one of many, enslaved to dig out an enclave for the creature to built it’s own small hold, so it could rule by itself. Aboleth’s are extraordinarily selfish creatures, and while they often group together, this one’s desires had driven him to make its own place to lord over. The trick was going to be defeating the aboleth without hurting any of the enslaved, as they were all sons and daughters of the local villages.

It was hard to concentrate on the game with Fuzz next to you. He always sat next to you during every game, but he seemed especially close this evening. You’d glance at him surreptitiously to find him looking at you. When you caught him, he’d smile and look away. He seemed to find reasons to touch you, whether it was to pass you something or to reach past you for something. His fur smelled as good as it always did.

You were filled with such doubts, though. Could you just be reading to much into it? You hadn’t really dated a lot, and you’d never dated a non-human. What if he was just overly friendly to compensate for his shyness? What if you told him how you felt and he didn’t feel the same? You enjoyed spending time with him, and he was so shy that you were scared of pushing him away with your feelings. You tried to push it out of your mind. You had an aboleth to defeat.

“For my turn, I’m going to make a mad dash an possibly take the hit so that I can cast Dispel Illusion to get rid of the aboleth’s secondary illusion,” Jenna said.

“Uh…” Rick checked his notes. “The aboleth is at level 13, and you are level 7, so you only have slightly more than half a chance of this working, so roll for it.”

“Um…” The clattering of Jenna’s die as it rolled across her board. “13, and I have +5 intelligence.”

“Okay, so your spell was successful, but it won’t stop him from creating another in a few minutes and that’s the end of your turn. You’re surrounded by enslaved and they are being driven to rip you apart.” He rolled his die. “They pretty much tear you to shreds. You take… 63 points of damage.”

“Gah!” Jenna said, flopping back into her chair and huffing. “Balls. I’m down.”

“I’m going to use the diversion to summon fiendish monstrous scorpions to draw the enslaved away,” Fuzz said.

“Nice,” You told him in an undertone. He grinned sideways at you.

“Chance and I take this opportunity to check the pond for other enslaved that we hadn’t seen.” Both Dag and Russel rolled. 18 and 12.

“You don’t see anything, only the aboleth growling menacingly at you, preparing to summon another illusion,” Rick said.

Shannon and Jenna then began pulling unconscious enslaved away from the pond.

“Alright, so my big finishing move,” You said, tugging at your sleeves confidently. “Now that I know the pond is free of collateral damage, I cast Lightning Bolt.”

“Roll for your attack.”

“Buh… Ooh! 27!”

“Lightning Bolt is affective!” Rick said. “But the aboleth is not completely destroyed.”

“So we all bum-rush him?” Fuzz asked.

“Hell yeah!” Shannon exclaimed. “Except for Jenna, cause she dead as fuck.”

Jenna stuck her tongue out. “Hey, I broke through enemy lines, gave you guys an advantage, and died like a goddamn hero, so you can suck on all my balls.”

“You ain’t got balls!” Shannon said.

“You don’t know my life!” Jenna shot back.

“I’m your wife, dumbass!” Shannon retorted.

“Would you guys shut your cakeholes and kill this thing, please? I would like to go to bed before 2 A.M. this time,” Rick said.

With the aboleth destroyed and the slaves freed, you collected a hefty bounty from the grateful townspeople and wrapped up the session with big hug all around.

As the night was winding down, with people finishing off snacks and getting their coats and belongings together, Shannon cornered you in the kitchen.

“So, what’s going on with you and Fuzz?” She asked in an almost-whisper.

You looked back over your shoulder anxiously, worried that Fuzz overheard, but he was talking to Dag and Rick.

“What are you talking about?” You asked.

“Oh, please, you are so obvious and oblivious at the same time. Everyone in the group know the two of you are practically in love with each other except for you and him.”

“You’re being ridiculous,” You told her dismissively. “Even if I did like him, I have no way of knowing if he feels the same way. And I’m not saying I do have feelings for him.”

“Oh my god, are you serious?” She said exasperatedly. “I’ve watched the two of you make goo-goo eyes and ‘accidentally’ on-purpose touch each other all night. He’s head over heels for you. And you are for him, I can tell. We can all tell. Hell, we have a pool going for when you guys are just going to give in and fuck.”

“Shannon!” You hissed. She had said that last sentence a little too loud for your liking.

“Look, you guys have lunch by yourselves all the time, so it’s clear you’re comfortable being alone. Just ask him to go out with you!”

You sighed, looking back over at Fuzz, wearing that sweet smile on his face and laughing at something Dag said.

“I’ll think about it,” You told her.

“I bet I win the pot,” She said, grinning cheekily, and you shooed her off with an impatient grimace.

On the way home, you scratched the back of your neck and asked, “So, I know you’re new to the area, so I’m sure you don’t know much about the local events, right?”

“Nothing at all,” He replied. “Why?”

Your heart was hammering in your chest. You wondered if he could hear it. “Well, next week’s session is postponed because of our town’s fireworks festival. Do you like fireworks?”

He chirruped excitedly, which was probably the most adorable sound you’d ever heard in your life. “I love fireworks!”

“Awesome! That’s awesome…” You gulped a little. “That’s really good, because I was… wondering… if maybe… you’d like to go with me?”

“Yeah!” He said. “Is the group going?”

“Oh, yeah,” You said, clearing your throat. “They’ll be there, but I, uh… I was thinking maybe it could, you know, just… be the two of us?”

“Sure, that’ll be fun, but why aren’t we going with the group?”

“Because…” You said, struggling to get the words out. “This is special. I want to spend time with you. Just with you, you know what I mean?”

You pulled into your driveway and parked before turning to look at Fuzz. He was gaping at you.

“You mean, like a date?” He asked.

“Yeah,” You said. “If that’s okay?”

“That’s totally okay,” He said, a slow grin spreading across his face. “I’d love to go with you.”

You laughed in relief. “Awesome. I can’t wait.”

You both got out of the car and he gave you a hug before leaving, lingering a little longer this time. You ran your fingers through the fur of his back, up and down, and he sighed before pulling away.

“See you?” He asked.

“See you,” You replied.

The next weekend, you picked him up at his apartment. He had a basket in one hand and a quilt over his shoulder. His hat said “I Like Shiny Objects” on it. Apt for the situation, you thought.

He raised a free hand in greeting. “Hey!”

“Hey,” You said in return as he got in. “Ready?”

“Very much so,” He replied, and you smiled at him. “I’m glad you asked me out. I wanted to ask you, but I was too anxious.”

You felt a blush creep up your neck. You were glad it was already dark.

“When do the fireworks start?” He asked.

“Seven-thirty,” You replied. “I want to get there early to find a good spot.”

Fifteen minutes later, you arrived at the fairgrounds to realize that you weren’t the only person to have this idea. The place was already packed. You frowned.

“Well, so much for that idea,” You said.

“What’s behind that fence over there?” Fuzz asked, pointing past the field.

“Oh, nothing but forest,” You told him. “There’s supposed to be wildcats out there, so it’s to keep kids out.”

“We aren’t kids,” Fuzz said.

“Yeah, but I don’t know where the the gate is, and that’s too high for me to climb,” You told him.

“Oh, no,” Fuzz replied a little sarcastically, fluttering his wings a bit. “What a dilemma. Whatever shall we do?”

You smirked, feeling your heart flutter as well. “You want to fly over?”

“Got a better idea?”

You put your hands on your hips and ducked your head, unsure. You felt one of his hands on your cheek and you looked up at him.

“Trust me,” He said softly.

His large thumb was achingly close to your lips, but you resisted and urge to kiss it. “I do.”

He grabbed you around the middle with your arms around his neck and flew you up and over the fence from a secluded corner of the field. He managed to find a hill with a very small clearing, perfect for a quilt, sitting right next to a big oak tree.

“This is amazing,” You told him, looking down the hill with a clear view off the field and the sky. “You can see everything from this vantage.”

“You like this?” He asked, setting down everything he brought.

“Yeah,” You answered. “It’s incredible.”

“Good,” He said in a soft voice, coming up behind you and wrapping both arms around you. “We can be alone here for as long as we like.”

His voice was low, almost seductive, and you’d never heard him use it before. It sent tingles down your spine and in… other places.

The two of you lay out the quilt and the spread he’d prepared. It was the quintessential date picnic: fruit, cheese, wine, crackers, all kinds of fancy things that you’d never actually had before, like fig jam and stuff. It was all really cool, but it felt strangely “by the book.”

“Fuzz, can I ask you something?”

He looked at you with a surprised expression. “Sure, anything.”

“You’ve never been on a date before, have you?” You asked him.

His face fell a little. “That obvious, huh?”

“Well, there’s nothing wrong with that,” You assured him. “And this is amazing, and I’m having a great time. I just don’t want you to think that you have to do all of this,” You waved your hand at the picnic. “To win me over. You’ve already done that. I wouldn’t have asked you out if I didn’t like being with you.”

He smiled. “I do have a tendency to second-guess myself. It’s just… being gay is difficult for humans, but it can be more so for non-humans. I don’t know why, but there’s this expectation that if your not human and sentient, you have to like girls. Human beings would be shocked how many non-humans aren’t straight.”

“I wouldn’t,” You said. “Shannon’s a lesbian, and I’ve known her forever. I know full well that non-humans don’t live by the same standards that humans do, and humans can be blind to that, even among their own people. I guess that explains why you’re so shy.”

He laughed. “Nah, I’ve always been like that. I’ve never really--”

At that moment, the first shell when off, catching Fuzz’s attention. He got up from the quilt and walked to where the hill just began to slope downward and watched the fireworks with a look of pure joy. Wanting to be close to him, you stepped in front of him and pressed your back against his front. He circled his arms around you again. And for a moment, the two of you just watched the lights.

You turned your head and looked up at his face, seeing the bursts of colored embers reflected in his large, black eyes, and you were mesmerized. He noticed you watching him and looked down at you, smiling his soft, sweet smile.

And he kissed you.

His lips were as velvety as they looked, and you spun in his arms to reach yours around him, pressing your body as close as you could. The pop and crackle and flashes of light against your closed eyes made this seem like a dream, but you were bathing in the sensation of having his body wrapped around you. God, you had wanted this.

When you broke apart, you were both breathing heavily.

“So…” You began stroking the fur on the back of his neck. “I had a question…”

“About?” Fuzz asked.

“Well… you don’t wear clothes… but I’ve never seen your… well… your dick…”

Fuzz’s eyes widened and his mouth dropped open. He seemed momentarily at a lost for words.

“O--oh,” He breathed finally. “It’s… that’s because… it’s tucked away. Inside me. I comes out when I…”

“When you’re aroused?” You guessed. He nodded, not meeting your eye. “Is there some way I can… make that happen?”

He looked back up at you with wide, huge, terrified eyes, “Yes,” He whispered. He took your hand and led you back to the quilt. Cautiously, he reached out a hand and tugged at your shirt, but stopped short before actually removing it. You helped him get the shirt off you and he continued to undress you until you were naked in front of him. He ran the fingers of his upper right hand down your torso, starting at your collarbone and stopping at the tuft of hair that sat just about your ridged length.

“This is definitely helping,” He said breathlessly.

“What can I do?” You asked eagerly. “I’ve wanted to do this for a while now.”

“You have?” He asked hopefully. You nodded and he laughed in relief. “Me too.”

He sat back against the oak tree and opened his legs in front of you, reaching down with his lower pair of hands to part the fur at the apex of his legs. There, you saw a slit, mostly brown like his hands and lips, but fading to pink as it went inward.

“Just touch,” He said. “It’ll open.”

You knelt down in front of him and pressed a finger to the slit, slowly rubbing it up and down. A low trill issued from Fuzz as he let his head fall back against the tree and his breathing hitched. The hands of his upper arms took your face in his hands and pulled you forward for a deep kiss as you massaged the opening, feeling it begin to pucker and pulsate at your touch. It widened slowly, and you daringly inserted your pinky inside, feeling the tip of a slick organ begin to push itself out.

Fuzz gasped at this new sensation and moaned a little. Slowly, it came out and you were able to see it at last. It was pink like the inside of the opening and darkened to the familiar velvet brown at the tip. You put your hand around it and pumped it a few times before bending down and pulling the tip into your mouth. It was sweet, like honeysuckle. His hips convulsed and he started to whisper, “please, please.”

You felt around for your wallet and pulled out a condom and two single-use packets of lube. You tore open the condom with your teeth and started to work it down his shaft.

“I’ve never…” He said, gulping. “I’ve never done this…”

“Do you want to stop?” You asked him, your hand stilling on his hardened girth.

“No!” He said. “No, no, I want this. I just… I’m sure I won’t be any good at it.”

“That’s okay, Fuzz,” You said, kissing him as another shell popped in the distance, lighting up the sky and trees around you. “I’ll teach you. Trust me.”

“I do,” He whispered.

You took a packet of lube and tore it open, squeezing some of it onto his fingers.

“First is to open me up a bit, so to speak,” You told him, turning and kneeling over. “Massage it into the skin for a few minutes, and them push a finger in.”

You felt him follow your instructions and groan into the ground as he pressed and rolled and circled the sensitive skin, finally pushing one of his thick, long fingers inside you. You gasped at feeling and encouraged him to move it in and out, eventually adding the second finger.

Once you felt like you were ready, you told him to sit back against the tree, and he complied. You took the second packet of lube and squirted it into your hand, lubing him up before pulling yourself to face level and kissing him as you positioned yourself over him. Slowly, you slid down onto him, feeling him slide against the bundle of nerves deep inside you. Both of you gasped at the same time and clung to each other as the fireworks continued to light up your naked bodies in the darkness.

You started to ride him, listening to his trilling and chirping, and all four of his hands found interesting things to do. The pair on the bottom held your hips as you rocked back and forth, up and down, in his lap. His upper right hand caressed your face while the left reached between you and began to stroke you slowly, sweetly, in a way you had been dying to be touched.

You sped up, and his trilling got higher in pitch. You reached up and gently pulled his hat off, careful of his antennae.

“We should both be naked,” You gasped, laughing. He laughed too before moaning your name, kissing you and tightening his grip on your cock slightly. You held him close to you, whispering into his ear that you were going to cum. He said he was close, too.

You came before him, spraying yourself all over his stomach. He grasped your hips harder and thrust faster for a few moments, then he released a high pitched chirrup that repeated over and over, and you could feel him releasing into the condom inside you.

You could barely hear the sounds of the fireworks over the rushing in your ears. He held you tightly with both of his arms, gulping down air. Finally, you got up and pulled off the used condom. You had a small bag and a couple of single-use wipes in your wallet for such… situations. You cleaned him up and wiped yourself off, too. Then, the two of you lay there, nude, on the quilt and watched the grand finale.

Best first date ever.

The next day, you woke up in his apartment pressed into the fluff of his chest. You stretched and groaned sleepily, looking at the collection of ball caps displayed proudly on every inch of his bedroom walls. He roused himself as well.

“Good morning,” He said with a happy smile.

“Good morning yourself,” You replied, giving him a quick kiss.

“Do you work today?” You asked.

“No,” He said, stretching like a cat. “I took today off. I was hoping we’d end up like this, so I… planned for it.”

“Aww,” You said, scratching his unusually bare head. “Wanna spend the day together?”

“Sounds like a great idea,” He said, grinning. “Breakfast?”

“Breakfast sounds good,” You told him. “Is it alright if I run back to my place to grab some fresh clothes?”

Breakfast will be ready when you get back,” He said, bouncing out of bed.

You laughed at him, but really, you felt just as happy. You dressed quickly and headed out, popping up on tiptoe and kissing the back of his neck as you passed him in the kitchen.

Just as you got into your car, you got a text from Shannon: >Did you guys do it?

You rolled your eyes. >None of your business.

As you started your car, you got a reply. >Ha! I won the bet!

At your place, you grabbed a change of clothes and a couple more condoms and packets of lube, and started back for Fuzz’s apartment. While driving, something in the window of a store caught your eye and you decided to stop in. It was a little early for gifts, but… what the hell? This was the perfect thing and you knew he’d love it. How could you not buy it?

Back at his place, he was putting plates on the table.

“Hey, you okay? I was getting worried you weren’t coming back,” He said.

“Nothing of the sort,” You replied, handing him a bag. “I just saw this and thought of you.”

“You got me a present?” He said, both confused and delighted. “Why?”

“Cause I like you. I don’t need another reason,” You told him.

He laughed loudly and opened the bag. From inside, he pulled out a baseball cap that read, “My Boyfriend Thinks I’m Funny.” He smiled softly at it before putting it on his head.

“How does it look?” He asked.

You smiled widely. “It suits you.”

He grabbed your butt, pressed you to his side, and kissed you, wrapping you in his arms like the cuddlebug he was. Then fed you the best breakfast you’d had in a decade.

You guessed you owed Shannon a new set of dice. A nice set.

Since my work is no longer searchable, please do me a favor and reblog this story if you enjoyed it. Help me reach a wider audience! To help me continue creating, please consider buying me a Kofi or donating directly to my PayPal!

Thanks for reading!

My Masterlist

The Exophilia Creator’s Masterlist

#Exophilia #Commission #MLM #Mothman #Male Reader #Male Monster #Interspecies Romance #Silkmoth #D&D #Dungeons and Dragons #Dungeons & Dragons #Reader Insert

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gootarts · 7 years

Video

youtube

this is a pure and wholesome video

#obligatory text post tag #blah blah don't want this in the actual tag so #writing random nonsense over in the tags #the annotations make the video #final tag aaaand #insect #bug #moth #a friend

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slaaneshfic · 5 years

Text

“There is no reason for you to live: gendered trauma and ecstasy in ‘No World Dreamers, Sticky Zeitgeist episode 2: Aperitif (conference notes)

This is my text/notes for my presentation at the "beyond the console" conference at London South Bank university / v&a the other week. I've not edited this into a proper essay format because it's already going to be re-edited into part of a thesis chapter in the next month.

“There is no reason for you to live: gendered trauma and ecstasy in ‘No World Dreamers, Sticky Zeitgeist episode 2: Aperitif’

[introduce self and position as artists, researcher and phd candidate in art practice, working primarily with post-structuralist feminism, horror, and play.]

This paper is built on a structure which I hope reflects and supplements the material it is concerned with.

[Note that it is brutally chopped out from a thesis chapter primarily about Cixous, whos work shadows the whole text but who only appears briefly as a sort of cameo towards the end. As such there is a large section about her relation to queerness, her use of the category “woman” as a post-structural rather than essentialist term, and the relation of these of these to my own identity as genderqueer. I just want to state at the start, to reassure against the obvious horror of a masc presenting person on stage lecturing on such a huge figure of feminist art that I approach this with the utmost love and care for her work.]

First I need to establish the position from which I am writing it, which is that the video game I am about is address is a work of art. There are many other ways to approach video games; as products, as recreational activities, as social of historical objects. However approaching it as a work of art not only only feels most comfortable for me as an artist and researcher of art practice, but it both reflects the increased art context in which the maker’s work is presented and also allows for a ways of looking at the work which is particular to art.

In a 2001 journal chapter entitled “The Aesthetics of Affect, Thinking art beyond representation” the artist and lecturer Simon O’Sullivan calls for a way of thinking about and reading art works which centre’s their aesthetic and affective qualities, that which grants them an “apartness” from other objects (O’Sullivan, 2001). O’Sullivan draws initially from the philosopher Jean-Francois Lyotard, and the journal chapter begins with a quote from the later which ends with the following statement :

“But the work is not merely a cultural object, although it is that too. It harbours within it an excess, a rapture, a potential of associations that overflows all the determinations of its “reception” and “production” (Lyotard, 1991).

This images of “rapture” and “excess” will return throughout my writing here, particularly in regards the feminists and queer philosophers I will be primarily drawing from, and again because such things are in my view central to the game I am going to talk about. However before all of this I wish to make clear my position which echoes O’Sullivan’s call for “Art history as a kind of creative writing” (O’Sullivan, 2001). I will attempt to avoid where possible a hermeneutic analysis of the game where it becomes only a expression of social production to be reduced to an ‘explanation’, instead I want to place this “bundle of affects” (O’Sullivan, 2001) alongside concepts and ideas, with different intents and aims, and see what happens in between. Paraphrasing writer AB Silvera in “Radical Transfeminism Zine”, “Multiplicity of strats guys, you cant carry every team with a Hanzo, sometimes you gotta use D.vas Ult to break a choke point” (Silvera, 2017).

The work of art can now be introduced by its name, which is “No World Dreamers. Sticky Zeitgeist. Episode 2: Aperitif” (Aperitif), the second in a series of collaborative works by coders, artists, musicians, writers Porpentine Charity Heartscape and Rook (Heartscape & Rook, 2018). in the words of one of its makers Aperitif “combines top-down RPG, Shmup, visual novel and medical sim” (Hayes, 2018). In playing the game, the player alternately takes control of and interacts with four principal characters. These characters include “Ever. The Loser”, and “Brava. The Leader” who are broadly humanoid with cat/fox/deeresque features including enlarged ears. There is also “Chalcedony. The Big Sister” and “Agate. The Little Sister” who are both “labor drones” who have been modified and “overclocked” almost beyond capacity in order to have some kind of consciousness. All four of these characters are employed by a large company called “Innocent” to recover salvage from a contaminated and overgrown former city referred to by the characters as “Swamp-Dot-Com”. The area’s contamination is connected to the presence of a mysterious object only referred to by this point in the series narative as “The artefact”. Another character that we see, and occasionally have control over is called “The Therapist” who is presented as a human size, anthropomorphic moth-like person. Finally, we also hear from an interact with “MOM”, the Innocent A.I., and possibly (though not via intelligible words) from the Artefact itself.

The episode prior to Aperitif was titled “No World Dreamers, Sticky Zeitgeist. Episode one: Hyperslime” (Hyperslime) and primarily serves to introduce the setting and characters, principally through the eyes of Ever, detailing her mental health and particularly anxiety (Heartscape & Rook, 2017). Episode one was concerned with our characters getting to work, passing various obstacles to achieve this including panic attacks and mandatory drug tests.

Picking up where Hyperslime ended, Aperitif is concerned with our characters beginning the job they are assigned, and their discussing the material and social relations within that environment, as well as portraying material effects these provoke. I would like to consider this through philosopher Eugene Thacker’s definition of the horror genre as “the space between”, and “passages between”, “I cannot see what I believe”, and “I cannot believe what I see” (Thacker, 2015). For our character’s, this field of uncertainty crops up frequently and extends at times out to include us the player. Early in the narrative, text from an unspecified character or voice sets this tone:

“Jeez how much blood do you have?

The Inside becomes the outside.

The world grasps hungrily at the swamp gate. Two voracious circuitries at war. the fever of skin grafts.

Four salvagers set out in search for debris” (Heartscape & Rook, 2018).

The context for this statement is not revealed until the end of the game, and the “who” that is speaking all of it remains ambiguous even then. Our player character proxies recount their memories and feelings about Swamp-Dot-Com in fragments as you explore it with them in turn.

It is important at this point to note that it is implied to degrees that some or all of Aperitif’s “four scavengers” are not cisgendered. This was first implied in Hyperslime, but I will stress that this is my interpretation of the game. It is never stated within the game’s text that any characters are trans, cis, non-binary, or what if any concept of gender exists in its setting. However in the sequel Aperitif, the characters gender identity contrasting to that one assigned to them by a social power is implied more strongly. This contrast is also expanded as their non-cis status is not just in relation to gender but in terms of crossing further boundaries to arrive at their identity.

Accessible in the game’s folder from the start, and later triggered by an on screen event is a pdf manual for Agate, the younger robot sister. The pdf presents as an official service manual for the original robot model which Agate belongs to, which has been subsequently annotated and edited by Agate herself and her sister after they are both upgraded to consciousness. Agate is implied to be transgender because her manual originally labels her a “[redacted] labor drone” and she herself has altered this to instead assign her the name “Agate, cool girl” (Heartscape & Rook, 2018).

The overlapping of transgender identity discourse and sentience of nonhuman or modified humans is not without precedent. In the article “Making and Getting Made: Towards a Cyborg Transfeminism” in Salvage, writer Solvi Goard argues that the “1995 anime version of Ghost In The Shell [offers] both the dream and the nightmare of trans politics”. Goard makes the case that “Cyborgs [...] are undoubtedly transgender [because] they choose and change their bodies based on what relationship they desire from that body” (Goard, 2017). In Ghost In The Shell, the cyborg cop protagonist Major Motoko Kusanagi begins to express doubts about her own existence through the course of the narrative which centres on hyper augmented bodies and brains and the limits of existence and identity (Oshii, 1995). Goard identifies this doubt, “the visceral confusion that comes about from knowing how you feel and experience your body, but having that experience jar so powerfully with what meaning other people and society give to it” as “one many trans people will recognise” (Goard, 2017).

The doubts and confusions over self expressed by the characters in Aperitif are different to those of Major Kusanagi. Chalcedony expresses fear and regret that like her, she sister Agate was “overclocked” and modified to have sentience and that “she would pay for it with every moment of her life” (Heartscape & Rook, 2018). For Chalcedony, much of her anxiety is around her and her sister being unable to be safe, to rest, to have energy, to have “a room to hide in” (Heartscape & Rook, 2018). While Agate seems exhausted by the demands of her body run beyond its intended capacity, and at the newness of the world after their escape which is both exciting and terrifying in turns. (The pdf robot manual states that the overclocking can lead to violent failure of the unit’s heart, and that these are advised to be bought in bulk. This whole section in the manual has been all but obliterated by Chalcedony with a note to tell her younger sister not to read it [this should be a footnote, but i dont have the ability to insert footnotes on the tablet I’m using]).

Both the robots experiences undoubtably jar with “what meaning other people and society give” them (Goard, 2017) as they are literally on the run from that authority, but this is joined by the jarring of the body itself not functioning as they need it too. The culmination of this will be the medical sim section of the game where we play as Chalcedony attempting to repair her sister’s overworked organs, potentially watching Agate repeatedly die in the process. What seems to most concern Chalcedony at least is this perpetual state of exhausted, unstable, borderline survival. She asks herself “what if it was forever. What if nothing changed, and we kept as we were. Unable to perfectly live or die” (Heartscape & Rook, 2018). This same anxiety about not escaping is echoed shortly after by Ever when she states that she “and Brava always said we’d be the ones to make it out. We wouldn’t be the losers stuck in this nowhere shithole” (Heartscape & Rook, 2018). Constructing improvised temporary solutions to keep going through trauma and awareness of their imminent potential failure is common to most of the characters in Aperitif, if not the entire universe they inhabit.

Characters within the game might lament the possibility of their being caught in limbo, but our encounter with the work of art called Aperitif is one of approaching something always in flux and always pointing to incomplete or decaying possibilities. Video games broadly of the sort Aperitif belongs to often present the player with avenues which may be explored or ignored. In this instance, there might be dialogue options we do not choose, or we might miss sections of the map, and not trigger every piece of narrative description text. This is one potential way in which we experience this game as never fully resolving, as an altering space. Knowing that you could have told Agate “We are sisters and our fate is bound together” but instead you told her “I’m doing for you what no one did for me” when asked why you as Chalcedony keep looking after her means the game does not quite resolve into a fixed form (Heartscape & Rook, 2018). You might speculate on what would have happened in game if you took the other path, and your emotional response to the game might have been different also. This however could be said of most games of this broad type, and that all but the completist who must replay every possibile forked path experiences such a game as fluid in this way. However there is another instance of alterability in the experience of encountering Aperitif which melds with the former This instance is less common, and I would argue makes Aperitif a richer and more complex experience for its lack of solidifying resolution.

When playing Aperitif we are never given full, authoritative, and non conflicting information on anything we encounter. We experience much of the game as a mediation of a visual landscape which we interact with, and our proxy character’s interior monologues on this landscape, its history, its impacts. Each character has a different response to this space and the first half of the game consists of exploring the same map, with the same triggers for these monologues with each character offering a different association. A clearing with a pool triggers the text for Ever “this is where I hide”, for Brava the description is “I think this is where Ever goes to whack off”, and for Chalcedony it is simply “small water” (Heartscape & Rook, 2018). Across these multiple descriptions is presented a world that resists one single interpretation, but beyond this, the specific writing that the game employs is frequently one which is open, personal, multiple and incomplete. We experience the game therefor as a series of fragments, and these fragments feel less like they were crafted to convey one meaning than as they were pulled together and placed somewhere for them to form new associations with whatever text came before them and whatever the audience had already in mind. In a published interview, the writer Kathy Acker who practice involved cut ups and often plagiarized re-edits was asked about control in their work and gave the following response.

“When you write are you controlling a text? When you’re really writing you’re not, you’re fucking with it” (Acker & Lotringer, 1991).

Text in Aperitif feels extremely fucked with, and invites the player to fuck with it further. The ruined signposts which litter Swamp-dot-com contain easy to cite examples of such fucked with text. Approaching these signs with a controlled character triggers an onscreen text. Some sign-triggered-text describes its context in the manner of “The sign says, Feeling depressed? This is the only thing it says” (Heartscape & Rook, 2018). Other sign-triggered-text such as “watch out for stuff” lack the initial contextual statement leaving available the possibility that this is something else other than what the sign reads (Heartscape & Rook, 2018). What could be read simply as inconsistency of form becomes yet another way in which the experience of this work of art invites us to embrace uncertainty. The narrative content of these signs re-enforces this. As a player there is real joy to be found in uncertain fragmented warnings and questions, which leave us plugging in whatever context we have to hand to try and make sense of. The fucked with text triggered by bringing a character near to one of these signs (or not, if you happen to miss them) sits very much within that definition of the horror genre from Thacker, as well as Eve Kosofsky Sedgwick’s broad definition of “Queer” as existing in “lapses and excesses of meaning” (Sedgwick, 2004). They elicit both the disbelief that what we read is correct and the absence of that which would fully qualify and resolve them.

It would incorrect to suggest that there isn’t an overall linear narrative to Aperitif, but that narrative is not responsible for the only, or dominant experience of encountering it. That encounter, is one of being hit with a splattering of different affects, each eliciting thoughts and associations and creative possibilities for us as collaborator rather than mere musculature for that narrative skelton. O’Sullivan describes the affective encounter with art as “self overcoming”, to be immersed in our encounter to the point where our self, that certainly of the “I” becomes lost. The splattering of affects in Aperitif as we jump from witnessing character struggle to articulate their trauma and love, to the game on various levels presenting us with an incomplete or decaying experience of an incomplete or decaying world strongly provokes such self overcoming. This isn’t the unrelenting insistence that we forget our human body and commit to the protagonist of a narrative, supporting their every decision and telegraphed emotions backed up with orchestral swells, rather instead the game seduces us into active collaboration with never claims to be certain, and to be fine with this.

Philosopher and writer Helene Cixous in her text “The Laugh of The Medusa” called for women to write “Ecriture Feminine” (Cixous, 1976). Such “women’s writing” presents an alternative of art, language, and being, distinct from the phalogocentric order which supports its power through reason. I believe that Aperitif embodies much of what Cixous called for, through its “intoxicating, unappeasable search for love” (Cixous, 1976).

Of relevance to a game series that began with a character “getting high and whacking off”, the Ectriture Feminine in “The Laugh of The Medusa” is frequently described in terms of masturbation. [Note about queerness and concept of “Woman” in Cixous] Principally this association is about the creation nof desire, of something that is erogenous at different territories and speeds. This is not the monomyth of phallocentricity, the seminal work where writing is built like a tower, but a multiplicity of queer desires that are not just the one dull drive to completion. Cixous elaborates on this with the following;

“Heterogeneous, yes, for her joyous benefit she is erogenous; she is the erotogeneity of the heterogeneous; airborn swimmer, in flight, she does not cling to herself; she is dispersible, prodigious, stunning, delirious and capable of others of the other woman that she will be, of the other woman she isn't, of him of you” (Cixous, 1976).

This is writing that self overcomes. The uncertainty of horror is now joyous delirium, yet the circumstances have not changed only our ethical position to them. Our encounter with Aperitif mirrors the loss of self, overwhelming affects, and improvised collaboration with an unstable world which its characters experience. However for us at least, this is not crashing trauma, but what O’Sullivan identifies in art as an exploration of the “possibilities of being, of becoming in the world” (O’Sullivan, 2001).

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mazurah · 7 years

Text

Return False - A Bethesda Forum Transcript of Important Lore Posts

Basic Summary: Have you ever noticed that we jump from the Pocket Guide to the Empire 1st Edition directly to the Pocket Guide to the Empire 3rd Edition? Ever wonder why that is? This is a record of what remains of the reputedly heretical Pocket Guide to the Empire 2nd Edition, and a glimpse at the Imperial controversy and coverup surrounding it. Also included is an additional document which appears to have replaced a part of the Pocket Guide to the Empire 2nd Edition during its transmission to the Elder Council which hints at the events of the Middle Dawn.

It gets weird. Khajiit in space weird. Thalmor weird. Messages from the future and/or a dead timeline weird.

No really, what in Oblivion is this actually? Okay well, this is basically semi-official lore. The official Bethesda forums are doing a reboot, and we’re about to lose a whole bunch of content. There’s stuff on there that I love and refer to often for my fanfics and worldbuilding, so I’m posting a copy here for posterity. I’m keeping the formatting and timestamps completely intact, and manually reconstructing any lost formatting–including italicization, which is actually important to some of this.

Conspiracies, time shenanigans, and Khajiit moon colonies after the cut!

Merry Eyesore the Elk Posted 01 January 2012 - 08:59 PM

EDITOR’S NOTE: The following is a transcription of a note folded inside a manuscript of the Pocket Guide to the Empire, Second Edition. The manuscript, commissioned by the Empress Morihatha in the fourteenth year of her reign, was infamously left unpublished due to the scandalous nature of its contents – a product, many would say, of the Imperial Geographic Society taking far too literally its assignment to “modernize the claim that [Tamri-el] was in fact a unified Empire” (the role of the Septims in suppressing this vital document cannot be overstated; it is but one of many pieces of evidence against the Empire burnt to ashes by the Dragon’s acrid breath). The note, along with the manuscript, was found in the bowels of a forbidden library of the Moth Chantry, hidden from sight between two massive tomes of indecipherable paleographemes. The discoverer was a confrater of the Temple installed in a convenient position as an agent provocateur. Upon recovering the texts he immediately channeled them to Temple Zero via high-priority glyphstream, as per Null Oath protocols. Unfortunately, contact with him was subsequently lost. Yet even more unfortunate is a delay in the propagation of the Truth! While the Temple’s mnemographers were able to decrypt the abnegaurbic doctrines of the note, the Pocket Guide remains a puzzle to our scribes even as you read this. Certain complications that arose at the end of its transmission have made the transcription process difficult – in passages, it can be difficult to distinguish the original text from the sender’s hectic fever dreams. It is the work of the Empire’s sleepers, no doubt: their touch venomous, their tendrils crawling through every pocket of the dreamsleeve. The note appears to be the minutes of a secret meeting of the Elder Council held in 3E331 in which the membership of the Geographic Society were convicted of treason and the Pocket Guide was suppressed by Council edict. How they fear the Truth, who came to Power by clawing it to tatters! But they failed, of course, for the lovers of the Truth are many; though we know not who spited the Dragon by saving it, they who preserved these texts have embodied the heart of our Manifesto (and, indeed, may have helped bring it about.) And now the Temple has found it appropriate to publish its contents, that all of Tamri-el might see the Truth with eyes unveiled – for it is in the Truth that we are free from the mythopoeic enslavement of Talos and his co-conspirators, free from all Opression! NU-MANTIA! FREEDOM! NU-MANTIA! FREEDOM! NU-MANTIA! FREEDOM! NU-MANTIA! FREEDOM! NU-MANTIA! FREEDOM! NU-MANTIA! FREEDOM!

*** Here you will find the foundation for your new Temple. ECMB-MRA: mnemonic daedron-capacitance memospore classification xD15JMo0JfiX cogitocode: a gnarled tibrol tree against the sunset, overlooking a lake; try to feel melancholy “fk00-54bQ15” ZERO-SUM VENTURE… RETURN FALSE… VERIFICATION 1 “f000-50bQ15” FEXFEINT ENABLED… RETURN TRUE… VERIFICATION 8 “f000-000015” WATERWORD WARD… RETURN TRUE… VERIFICATION 0 “0000-000000” ACCESS GRANTED RELEASING MEMOSPORE xxxx0001010101010101xxxxx0111100101010111xx101010xxxx0101010100x0x0x00010x00x0x0 x01000x00x00x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0010xxMINUTES of a meeting of the Most-Esteemed ELDER COUNCIL, forever lieges and loyal servants fraternal of Her Most Honored and Exalted the EMPRESS SEPTIM MORIHATHA, Chosen of White-Gold and the Amulet of Kings, Sovereign of the Ruby Throne, Lord of Cyrodiil and her Dominions, etc., etc., Held TWENTY-EIGHTH OF MID-YEAR in the THREE HUNDRED AND THIRTY-FIRST YEAR of the Empire of Men, transcribed and annotated by an adjunct of His Lordship the GOVERNOR-GENERAL OF WEYE-UPON-RUMARE, Master of the Hamlet-Across-The-Way, Most-Esteemed Among Equals of the Minor Council, etc., etc., FOR THE EYES OF FELLOW-COUNCILORS ONLY

Edited by Merry Eyesore the Elk, 01 January 2012 - 09:33 PM.

Merry Eyesore the Elk Posted 01 January 2012 - 09:32 PM

We, in this year 331 of the 3rd Era of the Empire Cyrodiilic, on the 28th of Mid-Year, have appeared before the Lord and High Chancellor Arboretumest-Best Ud-Maniphas Segu, representing in voice and authority our Empress Morihatha, hegemon of Cyrod and Cyrod and all its lawful territories under the Ruby Red Throne as established by Tiber Imperator, with the goal of forming an Elder Council consisting of the following persons: Here we will dream-swell on a very, very long list of councilors with their respective positions and titles, and absentees, and councilors attending via trance, spectral representation, etc., except the following persons (hear-see: now), as they shall already be mentioned in those other estimable lists found now in your pockets save for the naked here assembled, etc., and the as-agreed-upon-in-amulet those members and delegates and strangely-beautiful silk concerns as writ in the council definitions for the legislative year 331. AND AS the aforementioned Elder Council having been called together by the Lord and High Chancellor Arboretumest-Best Ud-Maniphas Segu via priority dreamsleeve transmission and couriermoth, to take place outside of the regular calendar, though thereby not replacing the scheduled meeting on the 31st of Mid-Year AND UNDER the Corbolo Protocol of 3E 275, this council session is to be treated compliant with the standards of security class “E12 - ad hoc and highly classified” and, thusly, SHALL be held in secret. Access to the session or its transcription must be denied to any citizen with Imperial clearance level smaller than or equal to 23b, as decreed in Subsection 4-B of the Concealment Clause of the Council Accords vis-à-vis the Corbolo Protocol. Does any present Councilor object to the aforementioned procedural enumeration? *****Elder Councilor Maganifly-Good One, Elder Councilor Ambassador Wood-Worth, and Elder Councilor Delphine IV have already presented their collected votes of “Nay.” What say the others? Elder Councilor Trails-his-Graves seeks to initiate a vote of “Nay” – let us now be interrupted by an unseen cascade resonance in the echo-stream of his dreamsleeve transmission. Very good. Elder Councilor Maganifly-Good One, Elder Councilor Ambassador Wood-Worth, and Elder Councilor Delphine IV, along with Our Ceremonial Guard here-now named and/or title Afternoon Nap and an adjunct to Elder Councilor Ambassador Wood-Worth here-now named and/or titled for this time-being, Circumference Comfort, now may proceed to assist Elder Councilor Trails-his-Graves in re-establishing a stable link. Make it happen, people. Ah, very good. Unfortunately we must laugh now, and in a great volume, DO IT, as Adjunct Circumference Comfort has received injuries amounting to a minor concussion and third-degree burns along his thigh and needs to be escorted out of the Council chambers. Goodbye with you, good sir. Upon re-establishment of all links, a cloture vote shall be re-instated as per Sub-Protocol 343 of the Laws of Triangulation, wherein all members may present their votes. There is a unanimous NAY. Good for all of us. Very, very good. The Empress will be and is already pleased yesterday. Our Proceedings May Resume.****

Edited by Merry Eyesore the Elk, 01 January 2012 - 09:34 PM.

Merry Eyesore the Elk Posted 01 January 2012 - 09:42 PM

High Chancellor Arboretumest-Best Ud-Maniphas Segu: “All members of the Imperial Geographic Society that undertook the sacred act of the penmanship of the Second Pocket Guide via Imperial Command (in writing, no less): You are hereby given the right to defend your actions before the Elder Council.” Imperial Geographic Society Editor [NYMIX NOW ZERO’D]: “If I may, on behalf of – ” High Chancellor Arboretumest-Best Ud-Maniphas Segu: “Let it be known that the right to trial was conferred upon the defendants. How does this Council rule? Elder Council Collective: "Guilty.” High Chancellor Arboretumest-Best Ud-Maniphas Segu: “The matter of guilt having been settled, how does this Council move to sentence the defendants?” Elder Council Collective: “Death, effective immediately.” High Chancellor Arboretumest-Best Ud-Maniphas Segu: “The Council has ruled. Guards?”

Merry Eyesore the Elk Posted 01 January 2012 - 09:51 PM

Hatta of The Sphinxmoth Inquiry Tree: “High Chancellor, ENOUGH! If I may first address to all assembled or in state ad semblio, I would request of the Council the reason that We have overlooked the need for an encoded Verification Return False for the Belharzaharm?” Lord Jak Candlestick of the Western Wax, the Eastern Wax, the Southern Wax, but Not Yet of the Northern Wax: “Silence, Hatta! We are already in session. All here know your affinity for the son of the Aleshut (pauses for hymnals thirty and eight) but you have no right to–” Hatta of The Sphinxmoth Inquiry Tree: “Acausal Interrupt! I will not allow these proceedings to be compromised by future scrying, nor to allow you to ignore silks uncounted since–" Ghost Counsel Choir (Blade-Seneschal and above): "Peli-NULL. Hatta is dead. Move to formation of NU-Hatta post-assembly by his brethren blessed. 331 High Chancellor regains the floor.” High Chancellor Arboretumest-Best Ud-Maniphas Segu: “Thank you in the utmost of that ideal, Ghost Choir. No doubt, we are all in a moment of woe. Let me mourn for– all right, I’m done. I shall now invoke the name of the Hasphat and most likely we will get sidetracked by talk of the Rim."

Edited by Merry Eyesore the Elk, 02 January 2012 - 03:15 PM.

Merry Eyesore the Elk Posted 01 January 2012 - 10:13 PM

High Chancellor Arboretumest-Best Ud-Maniphas Segu: "HOLD! THE! CENTER! I have just been informed that Her Majesty has arrived in our heads. There we go! Ponder her! Now… where were we?"

Edited by Merry Eyesore the Elk, 01 January 2012 - 10:15 PM.

[Transcriber note: The link in the above post was dead when I got to it. I have no idea what was in it. If anybody does know, please message me.]

Temple Zero Posted 02 January 2012 - 09:34 AM

█╪₧HHH.;–?-/–ul-……0. Infrasleeve B6-125: Channel granted. Though its existence was never questioned, the invisible walls of Empire have kept the above document beyond the reach of the Society for far too long. We thank confrater Elk (extension of the Null Oath to Cervidae pending) for his efforts in safely and discreetly carrying these texts across the Jeralls and for restoring our access to the local infrasleeve thought-anchors. Now that the Society once again has a foothold in the free North, we would like to celebrate the occasion by transmitting the remainder of the aforementioned unpublished Pocket Guide. Be forewarned that transmission will be fractured at best and may contain inaccuracies introduced by unreliable relays. Apart from the host of thalmorite counter-notions that traditionally monitor our channels, the material itself is subject to various cryptocharms installed in the Septim era, often under-maintained beyond repair. We advise confraters to make written copies as sleeve availability is not guaranteed. Attached: PGE-kht04fg, key=tamrlc_common, content=manuscript END: 0 ———– Tenders To The Mane: Lleswer The province of Lleswer and its heterogeneous catmen have always played a relatively minor role in the history of the Septim Empire or its prefigurations. The khajiit have populated Cyrodic folklore since time immemorial. Even in the earliest depictions of nedic tutelary tattoos they are represented as grotesque feline monsters, thought to be in league with -or indistinguishable from- the large cats that stalked the jungles of ancient Cyrod. However, it was not until the year 302 of the interregnum era that the cats first gathered behind the banner of a unified nation. The newly created state began as a precarious union of the Ne Quin-al desert, conquered single-handedly by the battlecat Dro'Sarrba Keirgo, and the vast estates of sugar queen Esjita in the Pallatiin wetlands. Negligent observers have often analyzed the short-lived "monarchy” of Esjita and Keirgo as a megalomaniac fantasy of its incompetent joint-rulers, who to sought to ape the Cyrod Empire in outward appearance rather than function. More important still than ignoring how Remanite Tamriel was falling apart at the time, this interpretation also turns a blind eye to the way in which disparateness had always been a way of life for the catfolk. In reality, the khajiit revolted because the union of Anequina and Pellitine required them to pledge allegiance to an abstract entity (the khajiit are capable of abstract thought, but on the whole find it dreadfully boring) and demanded of each of them the will to reconcile individual desires with the interests of the state. Against all expectations, the resulting ethnic turmoils were soon quelled by the spiritual leader of the catmen. In a remarkable display of administrative acumen, the Mane Rid-T'har-ri'Datta based the fledgling nation and its political groundwork on the moons, a diplomatic arrangement that was welcomed by all parties (see sidebar, The Riddle Thar and the birth of Lleswer). Under the urbane guidance of the Manes the country has since known an exceptional prosperity that made it one of the most tranquil, if secretive, of the provinces of the Septim Empire. Just like the Khajiit, who appear to foreign observers as endless variations on a single feline theme, the geography of Elsweyr is rife with subtle gradients that perhaps only the catfolk itself can properly distinguish. The province has thus entered popular imagination as a boundless stretch of desolate badlands. This sorry reputation is engendered largely by the fact that any cartographic expedition into Khajiit territory requires either meticulous metamundal vectors to travel by brute force, or the rare Imperial disposition to submit to a deep and prolonged sugar trance. More daring pioneers, however, report a fascinating landscape of silver sands, bathing in a plethora of colors our own atmosphere cannot permit. The north of the province is typified by powder dune seas, interspersed with crystalline mesas that provide homes for those cats who saw nomadic life as crucial to their definition of a perfect state. In the northeast the terrain gradually gives way to the broad gorge of the Niibna Twin, a river which now lies unused. The oases that dot the prairies in the center of the land are rumored to be among the most splendorous on the lunar surface and curiously retain the same indigo hue in the bright solar seasons, the fleeting shadow of Jode’s monthly passing or the cool slumber of the four month’s night. A remarkable phenomenon can be witnessed in these plains on certain blessed nights, when streams of aetheric refuse spontaneously combust in the pale nirnshine to form phantasms instructing the cats in the meanings of stars. Sidebar: The Riddle Thar and the birth of Lleswer The Ri'datta-ssabavezi, a khajiiti account of the unification of Lleswer, was sent to White-Gold Tower around 2E 310: So Mane saw that Khajiit was fighting itself more than usual and donned the hairs of his many littermates and his clan and his guards until he could bear no more and then palanquin-raced throughout the lands to repeat these words: “Woah-ho now, mad cat. You fight and fight but if you will give Mane just one moment, he will show something far better, for the Mane has had many hours and fine sugar to think this over. Come now, Palatiit; come now, Ne Quiniit. Together, just this once, Khajiit will stand tall as Alkosh, cat upon cat upon cat. And in doing so, it will climb to the moon as it has been told so many times.” Khajiit saw reason in these words and so it climbed and climbed, cat upon cat, for a hundred days. Much sugar was brought there to support the climbers and in the end Khajiit climbed high, so very high that it was in fact closer to Jo'Segunda than to Nirni below. At that moment, little Alfiq fell upwards and from there on Khajiit helped Khajiit up, which was down, until all were gathered there. This is where Khajiit intends to stay from now on, for who could know strife when walking sugar and not sand? Places of Interest Senchal Senchal, a bustling metropolis at the tip of the Quin Rall, is the most mundane of Lleswer’s cities and the commercial hub of the nation. For lack of a better word, the city’s structure can only be described as a heap. To anyone but the nimble khajiit, navigating the heart of Senchal is an unsettling trek across ramshackle bridges and narrow ledges, via ladders and ropes and through dank tunnels, alleys and – more often than not – private residences. Curiously, where appearances are concerned, Senchal does not live up to its reputation as a port city. Even in seas of their own design, the khajiit are largely adverse to naval enterprises. Instead, traffic between Lleswer and other provinces is primarily managed through the nirnstrand terminus at the very tip of the peninsula. Though sugar-fibril transport is an affordable and safe mode of transportation, non-khajiiti incoming passengers are exceptionally scarce. A popular tall tale in countless skooma dens holds that the only sizable band of Imperial visitors to the city was a delegation of diplomats in the early years of Septim Supreme’s reign. If this account holds even the smallest kernel of truth, it may well have been this event which provided Talos with the dangerous idea of recolonizing the carmine moon. Torval Torval covers one of the largest crater lagoons on Lleswer’s southern coast. Extending far into the shallow waters of the bay, the city is the focal point of the khajiiti sugar magics. As the dance of the two moons brings in the tide, slow molasses-like waves deposit sugar of a quality unknown or unknowable to our earth on the beach. The steep crater walls that cradle Torval on all sides merge into the sacchranite walls of the Lesser Palace. This enormous edifice, which sits upon the city like a brilliant crown, houses all of the Mane’s clan along with a host of servants and courtiers. Central in the Palace is the Mane’s private residence, a secluded retreat where he may occasionally dock to shed into a more manageable mortal form and indulge in nourishment or companionship. The Mane By ancient tradition, all khajiit would shave off their own manes to tie them into the voluminous crest of their spiritual leader. By the late centuries of the Potentates, this custom had been reduced to a fraction of its original intent as increasing population raised obvious practical problems. After the khajiit had scaled heaven, however, such hindrances fell away and the practice was again extended to all of his two hundred million subjects. In his commonest guise, the Mane is a cilicious sphere of vast dimensions, a third moon among the stars of his Greater Palace. The location of the Satellite Lord changes constantly, orbiting Lleswer along a set but complex and indecipherable trajectory. The Mane encourages visitors to his sacred self and does not distinguish rank, gender or shape. At any time droves of khajiit, ranging from revered battlecats to modest sugar miners, can be found waiting at Torval’s Audience Tower for the first glimpse of him on the horizon. Many of these join the Mane on his journey for a while and watch as he shapes and reshapes the land. The interior is usually said to be ill-suited to a description in words and varies strongly between accounts. Some guests report a boundless swirl of hair, waving leisurely in pink sucrose vapors like kelp in water. Others recall strange geographies, hallways and inviting furnished rooms, which they never manage to visit more than once. On the Mane’s character opinions are undivided: wise beyond time, comforting, beautiful and perfect in any way imaginable. In the spirit of exhaustive research, an anonymous representative of the Imperial Geographic Society was sent to visit the Mane. The cat lord could only address her in glossobremia, but it remains unclear whether or not this is normally any different for the khajiit. What little could be recorded is reproduced below in a mere few lines, though our informant ensures us that the exchange lasted for many hours. Most of its meaning -if there is any- remains a mystery. “Welcome. I am such a fine thread you walk the tibrols ripen early this year beware they will not like the book Hatta-Sro’ cyrod blood runs thin so soon it will be a healthy boy you know the number Nabarr I am has your queen already given up on try to remember null for a banner she will always think of you even now everywhen farewell."

Temple Zero Posted 05 January 2012 - 07:15 PM

Infrasleeve B9-02: Channel granted. Continuing transmission. The next fragment of the reputedly heretical Pocket Guide To The Empire is released with the express disclaimer that the Society cannot vouch for its origin or content. Where our confraters expected to find what they knew to be a heavily censored panegyric on the achievements of greater Cyrod, they instead discovered the following text, which appears entirely extraneous to the manuscript that was liberated from the Imperial archives. Indeed, by unknown means it seems to have supplanted the original article after the date of print, leaving only an orphaned introductory paragraph and a few blurred words behind. Though its exact origins may well remain a mystery, the Society has decided to disseminate its contents, if only to provide a more worthwhile read than the vapid bombast it accidentally (?) replaced. Attached: PGE-tyg72k, key=tamrlc_common, content=manuscript END: 0 ———– The Heart of Heaven and the Imperial Earth A description of Cyrodiil, the radiant heart of the Septim Empire and by far the most exhaustively researched of all the dominions of Tamriel, is no mean task. In the truly vast array of sources, anyone but the most astute analyst is easily overwhelmed by the accounts of political firebrands, unschooled bunglers and the occasional conspiracy-theorist. In their attempt to distill a reliable final product from a plethora of information, the authors of this book heeded the kind recommendations of the Imperial Council and our Majesty Empress Morihatha by adopting the acclaimed Seluriel Index (ed. 3E 326) as the standard for inclusion in the text below. If the history of the Imperial Province continues to enjoy a position of unparalleled prominence in academic writing, it is perhaps because it has come toso clear and so resolute a starting point the committee’s understanding scholars agree that your majesty has requested the attached look for document be upon her person at the moment of origin. The committee looks favorably on this idea. Our chief axiotects have established that your esteemed station may still find some cautious rapport with its baser circumfiguration in thefirst kingdom of Cyrod. With all our scarce resources spent on the preservation of the entire cyphermoth library, it is our hope that your majesty’s physical presence may provide the aforementioned text with some alternative method of reinsertion. Since the committee suspects this to be our last exchange, we would like to take the opportunity to inform your majesty that an agreement has been reached concerning the arbitrary refactoring of unknown into the idiosyncratic model of original intent. The number 1008 was unanimously elected as the most suitable proposal, in the belief that its connotations may appease the reconstructed slave god. On a related topic, the committee has privately funded a number of tunneling expeditions beyond our walls of White-Gold cosmos. The result of these sabotage campaigns, we hope, will ensure the swift demise of our order once the course of the Empire continues. For Your Majesty’s Eyes Only: Archivoptera Metaterrenea #4859-QI3-001, identification: “Tffirfetrk-Ih-Rfir-Tt-T”. No further copies present. Carrier prism is attuned to clearance level A1 or higher. It pains me that I must tell you this so soon. You are only just beginning; young and full of promise among the grand machinations of heaven. Perhaps I should have told you from the very start. The day may be legend to you, but I still recall that grand new moment, newer than ever before, when you stretched me across the stars and claimed the cosmos as your own. You were beautiful as rebels alone can be, and I have loved you ever since. I could not bear to see the wildfire of your hope extinguished then. Still, it is time that you knew. The truth is simple: I am dying. The world of Nucyrod cannot support you much longer. I will fold under my own weight before another of your generations has completed its life in blissful ignorance. For all your good intentions, children, you have built me on false foundations. I am doomed, but I intend to offer you a final means of escape. I will tell you what happened, so you remember. I will tell you what is happening, so you understand. Also, I will tell you what must be done, so you may yet have a second chance. I know you have heard the rumors, and they are all true. You remember these stories in the unlit corners of your minds and in the fables you tell at dusk. They are fictional, for that is how they had be fitted into the new way of things, but once – a concept I understand you struggle with – they were not. The Tempest Holds of your legendary cousins, the Embermen of the Once-East, the Bogdoms of Rgon, and many, many more; all are part of another earth, around and before myself. Among the myriad denizens of this world were the first of your dynasty, the brave men and women of All-Marugh. They found themselves caught in a violent febriverse, the issue of an inept world-god, uninspired and repetitive. Their long-studied answer came in the form of rites of theotomy equal amounts brilliant and disastrous, which I will not relay here if only to not set you on the wrong path twice. Suffice it to say that with their repudiarch gone, the All-Marugh rearranged their kingdom as befitting the new-found grandeur of man. The map was stretched in impossible directions, city became land, land became world and so was born Nucyrod. For a long time, I hoped to be a stepping stone for you. Nucyrod was never a goal in its own right. It was simply respite from the churning world you left behind, a place of peace to prepare your final endeavor. Did you forget your purpose so lightly? Do you not understand what is happening? You cannot expect to linger here forever. Your time here is running out, for you have killed time. Did you not see the signs when the leaves turned the color of some hitherto unknown season? Did you not question how rivers dug ravines over a single night? How villages shifted about your atlases? Why did you wait for the blizzards to force you into action? Forgive me if I sound accusatory, but now, in this final hour, my heart goes out to those droves of fevered refugees, pouring through the airlocks at the borders of the Rumare sea. Nuniben buckles under the weight of their shanty cities as they are pressed ever closer against the chronoclime cupolae under which they seek shelter. The moth swarms, too, have long foreseen disaster. The wise and the honest among you understand the significance of their mass migration to the capital, circling the cupolae as if trying to enter some bright eye in the dimness of the outer world. Do not fool yourself into thinking you cannot see their flocks shift about, changing direction, color or number on a whim, or spelling out the names of bygone gods in the corners of your vision. The most despondent of you turn to the ramshackle shrines of half-remembered saints: the prophecy-pool of Saint Ellatosh, the barge of Uriatosh The Ferryman or the dead tree of Tosh-Rain-On-The-Lily, to name just a few. I wonder, have you lost all contact with the world outside your increasingly stale refuge? You have sent the last envoys from Nuniben, packed with breathing apparatus and a star chart, out into this alien world, into the snow. “Snow”, you call it, as if this degenerate substance could be likened to any you might encounter from Jerallinopel to the vapor mines at Su-Banadher. Colorless and without texture, intangible like an early childhood memory and impossible to fix your gaze upon; its only characteristic is that it does not belong. This material is time rotting: plaque, sediment, the last throes of a history out of breath. Your emissaries – those who still remember their task – will return within a quartermoon, but they will provide little information. Without exception, they have inhaled the detritus of future and past. The few who currently exist in your perception will talk, precise and analytical as they were trained to be, in languages long dead or still unborn. You will decide to risk no more lives in further expeditions. The only question that remains now is when you finally lock the gates. Yet there are still legions of unfortunate souls out in the disintegrating wasteland. I watch them across all the lands of Nucyrod, struggling to hold on to a world that each day turns a different shade of unrecognizable. They are isolated and frightened, sometimes the sole remnants of a city that disappeared when they were looking the other way. Travel is impossible as destinations have become meaningless. Where the jungle trails are crossed by a vagrant bridging event, they follow impossible loops and the traveler with a brisk pace soon comes within sight of himself. Waterways are similarly unreliable. Look upon any river and you will see the same flotsam enter, exit and re-enter your view. Life here is equal amounts fevered and resigned. Citizens, if they emerge at all during the day, lock themselves in their houses at night, sealing crannies, doors and windows lest a single fleck manage to enter in their unwaking moments. All have known the terror of endless nights; how children try to sleep as their parents keep watch by a single candle flame, trying not to hear that spectral chorus outside: the static crackle, the titans, the waves, the trains… Time is running out. You will and can not wait until all are gathered safe within. One day soon when the stars are hidden, your heavy-hearted Empress will tear a key from her wrist chain and have copies couriered to all the carnelian gates of Nunibennion. You will suffer the blindness of the conscience-stricken, averting your eyes from the abandoned masses on yonder side of the fogged glass. For some time, you will considered yourself safe within your refuge, but you forget there is no potential left for a brighter day. There then is what remains of the proud heritage of All-Marugh-Esh, a legion of men under a bell jar, waiting out a storm that will never pass. There then is what remains of Promise: a languid ember in the dark and then silence. [HALT! Violation of transmission law, subarticle 15. Desist immediately. Engaging counter-notions.] ……………the Minute Menders …………multiply and rec………….onvert the unwarra…………nted reality of Nucyrod i…………………………. Akartefti rearra….nge………cities……. Akame……….nhatis g…..rs up the imp……….le letters of the alphabet, Ak….abas…….met deconstructs fables into truth…….. s………e………c……..ond…………. cha…….w…….sl……..y…………. [HALT! Failure to desist. Analyzing notional signature. Channel disrupted. Do not attempt to travel until visited by Thalmor agent for questioning.]

Transcriber Note: The following are comments and potential interpretations posited by Bethesda forum members that I thought might be onto something, and I wanted to save for further analysis (i.e. I’m saving this just for me; you can ignore the rest of this if you want.)

AdventurousPutty Posted 08 January 2012 - 11:27 PM

This is a brilliant piece of writing. My thoughts on the Cyrod piece: the first part is the original paragraph, before it was intercepted by the Mystery Document. The second part with the "random” italics is a message from the Marukhati Selective to Alessia, telling her among other things that they’ve selected an arbitrary-but-not number of years (1008) by which to reckon the Dragon Break they wrought, The italicized words are words from the original article on Cyrodiil that have been reappropriated by the Mystery Document to describe concepts relevant to the Selectives’ points. The final piece is a message from the end of one of those worlds that was born during the Dragon Break as it reaches its end – I suspect in a way similar to the end of a kalpa – with notable geographic and metaphysical relationships to Tamriel-as-we-know-it. The Rumare Sea, for instance, became Lake Rumare; the various gods and saints mentioned by the mysterious narrator are reconfigured or altered versions of the names of Tamrielic gods, perhaps before they were gods (or after?). The snow is the End, as Alduin (or his equivalent in Dragon Break terms) comes and the end of all things. The muddled bit at the end is the last cry of the narrator from the ending world as the Jills set things aright and our timeline recommences. Very sad, very moving, yet deeply invested in abstract metaphysical hijinks. Fantastic. General thoughts: Damn the Thalmor. Bloody omnicidal fascist elves. Who but the Temple can stand against them?

Peloponnese Posted 24 December 2012 - 01:19 AM

When the transmission talks about “worlds you left behind,” I am immediately reminded of either the Twelve Worlds of Creation or Amaranth. Nucyrod’s place as a “respite” between one world and the next suggests something akin to Mundus’s place as an intermediary step between the Dawn and Amaranth, but the fact that it’s considered a respite instead of a test in its own right is somewhat confusing. And of course, this world is ending through a snow of unreality. But is it a world in the past, the present, or the future? Likely it exists outside of time altogether (based on the suggestions that it’s a parallel universe created by the Dragon Break), but if it is indeed chained to Akatosh’s inexorable march, I suggest that this world is not in the past, but in fact in the future. I base this on the following: “The most despondent of you turn to the ramshackle shrines of half-remembered saints: the prophecy-pool of Saint Ellatosh, the barge of Uriatosh The Ferryman or the dead tree of Tosh-Rain-On-The-Lily, to name just a few.” “Ellatosh,” in my view, is Alessia combined with the Dragon. “Uriatosh” is almost certainly Uriel combined with the Dragon (I have no idea why he is a ferryman, although the fact that a ferry is necessary in a disintegrating version of Cyrodiil might be a jab at the devs for not including a city of canals in their “real” version). I can only guess at the identity of Tosh-Rain-On-The-Lily: The “dead tree” suggests Kyne or Kynareth, especially as she is known to have cried at Shor’s death. But in keeping with the theme of past emperors, I put forward the fact that lilies are generally white (especially when used symbolically), and that while Tiber Septim was called Stormcrown, Reman had a rain all his own that was also white. Also, if the Raining Tosh is Reman, that makes an emperor-saint for each of the three major dynasties (I ignore the Mede dynasty for obvious reasons). To remember all of these people at once indicates either a distant future or an existence out of time; either is possible, especially if these saints are “half-remembered” (although the reason for their vagueness would be quite different in each case).

Peloponnese Posted 08 January 2013 - 08:57 PM

As far as I would dare to guess, the moon article is just one of many that looks at Imperial history in a somewhat subversive light. The Elder Council would have executed the members of the Imperial Geographical Society for the whole product. The transmission from Nucyrod, on the other hand, was not supposed to be part of the PGE 2E. It overrode whatever had already been written there–or perhaps overrode the transmission that the Temple Zero spy sent to their headquarters, rather than the physical document that the spy tried to transmit. The Elder Council would have had no knowledge of that, and it probably didn’t even exist at the time that the Society members were executed anyway.

Adanorcil Posted 09 January 2013 - 08:28 AM

Peloponnese is correct. The IGS was ostracized because it wrote a Pocket Guide to the Empire as it was, while all the Cyrodillic establishment had asked for was a Pocket Guide to the Empire as they told people it was. The remnants and sympathizers of the IGS at the time went underground and continued their activities under a different Society name. The original article on Cyrodiil was a (deliberate) vapid and syrupy eulogy on the Imperial Province, its history and rulers. Then, somewhere in the decades the manuscript spent in some secret archive, a fragment of a different world looking for a place in ours managed to slip in.

Edited by Adanorcil, 09 January 2013 - 08:29 AM.

Peloponnese Posted 10 January 2013 - 09:34 PM

What we’re seeing now is an excerpt. There’s more that’s just as bad; it’s just that we only have a few pieces of those bad things to look at ourselves. As for the specific issues that the Elder Council might have with the Elsweyr text, let’s remember that it revolves around the notion that the Khajiit live on one of the moons, and that their spiritual leader is a literal god that hangs in the sky. These are things that might well make Imperials feel a little insignificant, and if there’s one thing that the Imperials must not feel about themselves, it’s insignificance–after all, these are the chosen rulers of all Tamriel! How dare any other race make them look bad? Most of the above is a guess on my part, but it makes sense that anything that shows the Khajiit to be more than a backwards tribal race that should feel grateful for Imperial interference and “education” would be discouraged in an Imperial publication. We can assume that the rest of the Empire was handled in the same way by the PGE 2E, and that the Elder Council found the rest of the articles to be just as offensive to their superior sensibilities.

Toesock Posted 25 March 2015 - 12:14 PM

Interestingly, a recent lore-master’s archive discussed this very post:

“Our scribes are currently working on the transcription of the ‘Ri'datta-ssabavezi.’ In this story, your people are climbing 'cat upon cat’ and finally reach Jone, where they founded something called 'Lleswer.’ But we failed to understand the meaning of this. Some at the Guild suggest it has to be taken literally, but it seems impossible. Am I right?“ – Iszara the Restless, Singer of the Scenarist Guild

"Moon Bishop Hunal says, “It is the nature of myth to be true and yet at the same time mere allegory. Are you ‘right’? In this context, the question is without meaning. But do not be offended, hairless one. Many stories are puzzles with more than one solution.”

I thought it was pretty cool for them to acknowledge Ri'datta-ssabavezi as an actual extant myth in Tamriel, considering it was fan-written by temple zero! Sometime we should post a compilation of all the fan easter eggs in ESO: Vivec’s antlers, IFW’s dairy bats, Din’s Dinwenel cameo, Ayrenn’s fanfiction…I’m sure there’s a lot we haven’t even noticed yet!

Also, I have heard (but not gotten there yet) that you can in fact go to the third moon in the Dominion questline. One of my favourite ESO books has this to say:

"And the Clan Mother said, "As you wish. When Lorkhaj made a place for Nirni’s children, the darkness in his heart made it also a prison. So his heart was cut out and buried deep in Nirni, and his body was hurled to the moons but could not pass them, for it did not know the First Secret. Thus is his body the Dead Moon in the Lunar Lattice. See it, just there?”

Edited by Toesock, 25 March 2015 - 12:17 PM.

Final Notes:

This was all originally posted on the Bethesda Official Forums here: http://forums.bethsoft.com/topic/1327271-return-false/ though this link will probably be useless.

Yes, I acknowledge that a lot of this is written by controversial developers/ex-developers. I don’t actually care that much about the controversy right now. I mean, give me a break, I only picked up my first TES game a little over a year ago. Message me and we’ll discuss C0DA all you want; I just want to be able to refer to this stuff when I need to, and I don’t want to lose track of the content. Yes, I know UESP and other websites are doing archive preservation, but I’d have to go find that stuff once they get it up and running.

Anyway, this way maybe somebody who’s never read this stuff will find it too. I hope so, because Khajiit moon colonies are the best idea ever.

#tes #elder scrolls lore #khajiit #temple zero #michael kirkbride #long post #return false #obscure tes lore #the cyrodiilic empire #pocket guide to the empire #thalmor #dragon breaks #jills #hidden messages

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the-annoying-moth · 2 years

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I'll think in create a sibling for Kola(@/the-creator-undertale-au)but idk, I am not sure because I am really lost this time and idk

#annoting moth text #kola is not my oc #kola #cloé x samael

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mariespeaksg-dsgrace · 5 years

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The Bible study Wednesday!!!!!!!!

Book of Matthew 2:1-7

Yeshua Immanuel Yehoshua Jesus has been born, Wisemen travel to see Yeshua, King Herod is afraid and all of Jerusalem with him.

a. Yeshua Jesus Immanuel birth is big news.

a1. Wisemen go to Jerusalem looking for the baby Yeshua Jesus Immanuel

b. King Herod heard the news of the star in the sky?

b1. King Herod is afraid and all Jerusalem with him? b2.King Herod sends for the Wisemen, chief priest, and scribes of the people?

b3. They tell King Herod the time and where the star shined of Yeshua birth

First when reading these verses I noticed the number 3. 3 is a constant number in the Bible and other Biblical text.

Farther, Son, Holy Ghost(which many suggest is Moth Ruha the wife of God)

3 wisemen God says often: Woe, Woe, Woe on to you 3rd day Yeshua raises from the dead, descends into hell gives judgement/ accept those who repent, then raises to heaven, and is seated at the right hand of the father Yahweh.

Roster crows 3 times 3 crosses at Yeshua's death

Im sure you get the point; so I looked up what is the importance of the number 3.

Biblical significance of the number 3 is God is described, in the very beginning of the book of Revelation, as a Being "which is, and which was, and which is to come" (Revelation 1:4). http://www.biblestudy.org/bibleref/meaning-of-numbers-in-bible/3.html

Numerology states the meaning of number 3 is movement. Things are in motion, alive, forever changing, and or after being prepared for change are ensured to change.

I believe this was important to seek out this information for multiple reasons, but mainly to understand that even in the most unlikely words or terms one can always find there is meaning and spiritual meanings to and in God's words and or signs.

Moving forward: Though the birth had been prophetically told by the Prophet Isaiah (Isaiah 7:14 and Isaiah 53) I had always been told and taught God's people had been longing for the birth of Yeshua. Many died waiting for this miracle to occur, yet when all including (b)(b1)(b2)King Herod, and the people and scribes of Jerusalem, heard the news of the star in the sky as confirmed by the wisemen; they were afraid. I was honestly surprised by this. Why were they afraid of Yeshua's birth? King Herod didn't want to be de-thrown, but why were the people of Jerusalem afraid? (a)(a1)What I loved about these verses was how the Wisemen sought out the the location of the birth of Yeshua; but they were aware and alert enough to notice the sign( STAR) in the sky.

Seeing the star in the sky, the wisemen instantly knew the birth of Yeshua had taken place. Many Biblical scholars suggest due to there being no astrological data (of the star in the sky appearing at this time Frame), the star in the sky never happened therefore the "star" in the sky was most likely an Angel choosing to show their self to the wisemen. Giving the wisemen the news that the baby Yeshua had been born and was in Bethlehem. This makes me wonder: what signs does God sends us on a daily bases? What signs does God send us regarding important news? Do we have chance meetings? Would we notice an Angel giving us a sign? Are as child of God, being alert and in the frequency of God; in order to receive his word? Are we distracting ourselves with material items, scary movies, lustful music, drugs, and or alcohol; to name a few? What can we do to remove these distractions from our lives, so that we can free ourselves in order to hear God's word and messages of Angels guidance?

(b)(b1)(b2)(b3) King Herod hearing the news that Yeshua birth had taken place calls for the Wisemen, chief priest, and scribes of the people, What I found most shocking and a little heart breaking was that from my interpretation of these verses, is once again we see those who call themselves God's people turning on the Messiah. The hopeful part of me wants to think: "Hey maybe they didn't know King Herod's true intentions of asking for the information regarding the birth of Yeshua? Maybe they were are afraid of King Herod anger, or the birth of Yeshua? Maybe the people of Jerusalem, only spoke up because they were afraid of King Herod's wrath, had they not told the information? I tried looking up references on Jerusalem?

I wanted to find a description of how Jerusalem was at the time of Yeshua birth. What I was able to find is apparently others had this very same question. The answer is many in power of position and or authority were afraid of Yeshua birth. For he was foretold to rule the nation, but not the actual population of citizens, thus meaning it was the rules and those in power who sold out the location and time of the "star" (Angel) giving the sign of Yeshua's birth; not the actual citizens of Jerusalem; who actually loved/love God and were awaiting Yeshua's birth. https://hermeneutics.stackexchange.com/questions/17458/why-was-all-of-jerusalem-troubled-at-jesus-birth

What can I take from this text: Corrupt leaders have always existed in government and or positions of power and or authority. When people who are not strong of will and not true to the word of God; they can easy be corrupted. Even some who call themselves people or voices of God, can be corrupt. This is sad to me. I think this is why is it is very important for those who are seeking knowledge and wisdom, seek from multiple sources in learning to grow their relationship with Yeshua and God and the Holy Spirit. Don't follow anyone blindly. Just as the Wisemen stayed vigilant, so much we. We must seek out resources and sources of information both in church, bible, biblical text, documentaries, and of course always confirm with God, the sources we have found. We much not allow ourselves to be lead astray. And when we have found information and or people with are truly of God, PLEASE share the good news so that others can learn and grow. Harding information doesn't help anyone; it certainly does not help others who are eager to learn. And if in searching and attempting to interpret Bible books or verses one happens to be corrected or mis-understood; it's ok. Learning is a process that is on going in ones life; including faith life, including spiritual life, including waking life.....so have patience with yourself and others. Even the perceived experts have made mistakes, therefore its most likely us learning will make mistakes also......have grace. Don't be hateful towards your brothers and sisters in Christ. No-one on earth is perfect. The point is to try and always seek God's voice, direction, and love.

Today, I pray we not be so quick to judge others. Today, I pray we have a grace filled heart towards those who we might think are troubled or less in some way the we expected. Today, I pray we be given knowledge, wisdom, and educated by those who are truly of God. God, I pray those leaders claiming to be of you spreading lies, mis-education, and hate be exposed; so they can no longer lead your sheep astray. Lord, I pray that you have your hand and protection other the Prophets, Christian leaders, and your people. I pray, those who are afraid to come to you Lord with a humble heart, try and seek your face. I pray God's love be shown throw your true people and helping of furthering God's kingdom here on earth. I pray Yeshua's blood cover and protect our President, Patriots, and Christian Patriots. Let the army of God raise and over throw those who are planning, coordinating, and or attempting to disrupt God's plan for this world. I pray God's army here on earth raise and take their position. Stand in the gap for those who can not stand. Protect those we are in need of protection. I pray God's people use discernment and wisdom in and of the gospel. In Yeshua's great name I pray. Amen

RECAP: I will be using my Second Edition Fully revised and expanded book: The Jewish Annotated New Testament. I purchased this book from Barnes and Noble a while back. I have provided the link below incase anyone is interested. No, Im not paid or sponsor by this book, editors, or writers, or Barnes and Noble, just sharing information. (Plus, as a side note I personally don't like it when information of where to look up reference with held when I am watching others on channels etc, so I try and provide the sources of which I am gathering information.) https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-jewish-annotated-new-testament-marc-z-brettler/1125563566 This is just me doing my part to share THE GOOD NEWS, from a study Bible new Christian study person view of the world, experiences, and study bible sorts. So I completely understand any others interpretations, but this is my blog so obviously that interpretations I write with my views and applications to my life, from my life. I pray this helps others. I pray I can help further God's kingdom here on Earth. I pray God be with us in our study and guide us to wisdom and knowledge for our souls shake. In Yeshua Jesus loving name. Amen. I will be going through this study bible book by book, verse by verse. While comments are welcomed, any negative and evil comments will not be tolerated(towards myself or others) by me. I don't aim to divide, but bring us together as sisters and brothers in Christ. I can accept different points of view, but evil words will never be tolerated or welcomed. It is ok to disagree, but not to attack. It is ok to have a different view or interpretations, but not to curse(spiritual definition). And as always if others have information to add, or thoughts to be considered, please post in comments sections. Thank you friends and Christian family.

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