Jimmy john's group order

IE changes to velars (K) often seem irregular, and since these include k > x & *h > k, it is likely that PIE h1 = x^, h2 = x, h3 = xW.
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G. kúmbos ‘vessel/goblet’, Skt. kumbhá-s ‘japitchewater japot’, Av. xumba-
*xamanto-s > R. xomút ‘horse’s harness’, Li. kãmanos ‘leather bridle’
*k^alh- > L. calēre ‘be warm’, Lt. silt ‘grow warm’, salts, Li. šáltas ‘cold’, R. xolod ‘cold’
? > *xalpikiko-s > Slavic *xolpĭčĭkŭ ‘boy / young servant’, TB kālpśke ‘youth / boy’
*kaudh-? > OP xauda- ‘cap’, Av. xaōda- ‘helmet’
Skt. kardama- ‘mud’, NP xard ‘muddy place’
Skt. kharjura- ‘silver’, Greek árguros ‘silver’
*h3ost- > G. ostéon ‘bone’, OCS kostĭ, L. costa ‘rib’
*xWokW- >> L. oculus ‘eye’; *xWokW-ixto- >> Li. akytas ‘having eyes’, L. *xokwel-it- ‘having (one) eye’ > cocules ‘one-eyed’
*prdumxo- > Kh. purdùm ‘leopard’, Skt. prdakū-, prdākhu- ‘leopard/tigesnake’
*kxapros > OIc. hafr ‘male goat’, L. caper, *gGapro-s > OIr. gabor, *xałfros > Arm. k’ał ‘male goat’
*kenh- / *kanh- > Arm. kanxem ‘rise up/hurry/go first/arrive before’, OIr. cinim ‘spring / descend from’
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*kap-ye- > L. capiō ‘seize/take’, G. káptō ‘gulp down’, Go. hafjan, OIc hefja ‘lift’
*gab- > Arm. kapem ‘bind’
*ghabh- > L. habeō
(compare kapem ‘bind’ to Latvian kampt ‘seize/grasp’)
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Slavic *golumb- > R. goluboj ‘blue’, Baltic *golimb- > OPr. golimban ‘blue’, *gelumbiyā- > Li. gelumbė ‘blue kerchief/cloth’
Slavic *golumbi- ‘dove’
Sanskrit kalamba- / kaḍamba- / kadamba-, Greek kolumbís / kólumbos ‘diver (bird)’, Latin columba ‘dove, pigeon’
*š\salam(b)a\u > MArm. salam -u-, salamb -a- ‘(francolin?) partridge’
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*kwap- ‘smoke / steam’ > Lithuanian kvãpas ‘breath / odor’, *xwap- > Latin vapor
*k^witro- > Lithuanian švitràs ‘glasspaper / sandpaper’, *xwitro- > Latin vitrum ‘glass’
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? > *mxëlto > TA mkälto ‘young’, malto ‘in the first place’
? > *pesuxā- > TA puskāñ, TB passoñ ‘muscles’
? > *lewax^- > TA lu, pl. lwāk, TB luwo, pl. lwāsa ‘animal’
Skt. srákva- \ sṛkvaṇ- ‘corner of mouth’, TB *sǝrkwan- > *sǝrxwan- > särwāna (pl. tan.) ‘face’
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Most of these are already recognized as cognates, some are distputed. For Skt. kharjura- ‘silver’, Greek árguros ‘silver’ from PIE *h2arg^uro-, see https://www.reddit.com/IndoEuropean/comments/13umn3s/greek_kh%C3%A1lub_hardened_iron_steel_khalk%C3%B3s/ . Armenian and Celtic sometimes changing *ka- > *ga- (and g > k in Arm.) would explain some data, but this is not regular. Many of these might come from clusters like *k^x-. The similar *zg is also optional around IE:
*mezg- > L. mergō, Skt. májjati ‘submerge/sink’, *mezgu- > L. mergus ‘gull’, Skt. madgú-
*zgWes- ‘quench/extinguish / put out a fire’ > *djas- > Skt. dásyati be exhausted / despair, jása- \ dása-, etc.
*azgWolxo-? > G. ásbolos / asbólē ‘soot’, *ask^ülxo- > Arm. acuł / acux ‘soot/coal’
*presgWu-? G. présbus ‘old man’, Cr. preigus, Arm. erēc` ‘elder’
Some say *pres-gWh2u-? ‘coming before / ancestor’ is needed to explain Armenian erēc`, but I think acuł shows the same (caused by g > g^ before u (indicating u > ü as in Greek)). This would mean h2 was unneeded, and even K > K^ by u in Arm. is not regular.
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Just within Arm., the changes to K include k > k \ kh \ x \ *h > 0:
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Arm. kayt ‘mark on marble’, xayt \ xayc ‘mark/spot’, Skt. keta-, ketú- ‘mark/sign’, TB kāy ‘mark’
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OE sceolh ‘crooked’, G. skélos ‘leg’, skellós ‘crooked-legged’, Arm. šeł ‘slanting / crooked’, xeł ‘mutilated / lame’
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Arm. sałim ‘be mistaken’, sxalim ‘be mistaken / stumble’, sxalak ‘drunken’, Skt. skhálati ‘stumble’,
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G. skórodon / skórdon, Alb. hurdhë, Arm. xstor ‘garlic’
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Arm. mxrčem ‘immerse/dip’, mkrtem ‘immerse/dip / bathe/baptize’
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Skt. khād- ‘chew/bite/eat’, Arm. xacanem, kcanem ‘bite/sting’
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Arm. ozni, MArm. xozni / kozni, G. ekhînos, Skt. jáhakā-, Brahui ǰaǰak, YAv. dužuka-, NP žūža ‘hedgehog’
(compare kh vs. *h > 0 in G. khḗr ‘hedgehog’, L. ēr )
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Li. kárštas ‘hot’, Arm. xaršem ‘cook/burn’, Skt. kuṣāku- ‘burning’, *kurzd- > kūḍayāti, kuṇḍate ‘burn’
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*skandlo- > L. pl. scālae ‘ladder / flight of steps’, *sxandułxo- > Arm. pl. sanduł-k` / sandux-k` ‘laddestairs’
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G. khaláō ‘loosen/slacken’, Skt. khallate, Arm. xał ‘game/pastime’ (from ‘free / loose’ (compare L. laxus ))
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Arm. ktł- ‘burning desire’, xtił ‘tickling/lust’
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Skt. kartati ‘cut/slice’, Arm. ktrem ‘cut’, kotor \ ktor \ ktur-k’ ‘cut/share’, ktir-k’ ‘dowry’, hatu-ktir\kčir
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G. knḗthō ‘scratch/itch’, Arm. xaz ‘line (in hand) / scratch’
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If x, kh, and k were regular and separate, why would so many words show both? This is not limited to PIE *k(h), even PIE h > h \ 0 \ x has no set order:
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*h3od- ‘smell, stink, hate’ > L. oleō, odor, odī ‘I hate’, Arm. hot
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*h3owi- > L. ovis ‘sheep’, Arm. hovi-, *+pah2- > hoviw ‘shepherd’
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*h2awi- > L. avis, Arm. haw ‘bird / roostehen’, Moks xav
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*h2awo- > L. avus ‘grandfather’, Arm. haw
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*h2ak^o-sth2o- > G. akostḗ ‘barley’, Skt. apāṣṭhá- ‘barb of an arrow’, Arm. hawasti-k` ‘tassels of a belt’
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*h2ak^-st(h2t)i- > Li. akstìs \ akštìs ‘kind of skewer’, Arm. hask -i- ‘ear of grain’, Van xašk
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*h2ag^- > G. ágō ‘lead’, Arm. acem ‘bring/lead’
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*h2arh2mon- > Li. armuõ ‘arable land’, Arm. haravun-k’ ‘arable land / plow-land’, K’łi harmunk' ‘plowable soil softened by spring rains’
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*h1nek^-n- > Arm. hasanem ‘arrive at / reach / catch/take/get/gain’, Skt. naś-, L. nanciscor ‘get/reach/obtain’
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? > Arm. xełd- \ hełj- ‘drown/suffocate/strangle’, hełjamłjuk ‘drowned/suffocated’, młjuk- ‘strangle’
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*h3oid- > G. oîdos ‘swelling’, Oidí-pous, Arm. ayt -i- ‘cheek’, aytumn ‘swelling’, *xoyt’ > Łarabał xüt' ‘*swelling/*mound’ > ‘hillock’
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This works best if h2 = x and most x > h, some retained. Dialects with x- for older h- are more conservative, not innovative. The intermediate s > š > x fit Pamir data for Iranian (sk > šk, other s > x) and sw- > *xw- > kh- in both. Slavic also shows some s > x with no apparent cause. This also matches s > *x > x \ h \ 0, p > *xW > x \ h \ 0, completely bereft of regularity:
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*pewyo- > ogi \ hogi ‘soul/spirit’; *pew-ah2- > hewam ‘breathe heavily’
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Skt. pṛthuka- ‘child / young of animal’, G. pórtax \ pórtis (f) ‘calf’, Arm. ort’ -u- ‘calf/fawn’, xort’ -o- ‘stepson/adulterine’, Muš. xort’ ‘young (man)’
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Arm. ort’ ‘grapevine’, G. pórthos ‘shoot’
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*samhǝdho- > E. sand, G. ámathos, Arm. awaz, L. sabulum
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*kWyeh1-sk^e\o- > L. quiēscō ‘rest’, *sm- > Arm. hangč’im ‘rest’, Muš hang‘ ‘rest/breath’, Moks xangY
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? > Arm. boyl -i- ‘group (of people/deeetc)’, hoyl -i- ‘group of animals/people’, xoyl -i- ‘swelling/tumogland’, bołǰ ‘swelling/tumowound’
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Since *h at the start can remain as x, x within words shoud have the same explanation. This includes kanxem above (both k and x odd), and many in https://www.reddit.com/etymology/comments/w04cuz/importance_of_armenian_retention_of_h123/
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For PIE *w, a stage with w > GW (G = voiced velar fricative) makes sense (see Hrach Martirosyan). This also shows w > g / kh / x / v / 0 with no cause; it is likely that there was optional *G / *x then optional *x > kh. This is seen by supposed original *gWh = *GW > *x > kh in the other direction. This *x is retained in many examples, often with alternation:
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*widk^mt- > *GWic^amt- > *xis^anD- > k’san ’20’
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*gWhen- > G. eu-thenḗs ‘in abundance / wealth’, Arm. yo-gn / yo-k’’n ‘numerous/abundant’
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*wergY- > TA wärk-, TB wark- ‘shear’, Arm. gercem ‘shave / make bald’, k’ercem ‘shave / peel / strip off’
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*Gony- > xonǰim ‘be tired/exhausted’, *yoGn- > yognim / yok’nim ‘be(come) tired/exhausted/discouraged’
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*proh3-gWhen- ‘very abundant/large/great’ > G. parthénos ‘virgin’, Arm. aṙa-k’ini ‘valiant/courageous/virtuous/honest’
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*GorGuD / *xoruxD > xoroxt / xroxt ‘haughty/proud’, goṙoz ‘proud/arrogant’, goṙ ‘shout/fierce/bold/haughty/warlike’
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*wel > G. hélix ‘object with spiral shape’, Arm. xec’ ‘pot / shell (of mollusks)’, xec’ \ hec’ ‘felloe’
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*widhw- ‘(arms) apart / tree’ > *GüDG- > *gu(r)g- / *gi(r)k(h)- > Arm. girk-k’ ‘tree’, girk ‘arms/lap/bosom’, gog ‘lap/bosom’, *gurg ‘embrace’, girg ‘tendedelicate/soft’, ołǰ-a-gurem ‘greet / embrace’, gurgurel ‘cuddle/caress’
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and even Iran. loans seem to show a stage with GW and optional GW > v or GW > gh:
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*g^hew- > jagar ‘funnel’, *javar >> Gr. jabri
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*g^wah2lo-, *dz^walanō > Skt. jválana-s ‘fire’, Balochi jal ‘hot ashes / charcoal’, ? >> *azgal > Arm. gazał \ gazax ‘ashes/embers’
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Arm. is also known for having odd changes to *r like Arm. kēt ‘biting fly’, kret ‘wasp’, among many others https://www.reddit.com/etymology/comments/zkgi2m/latin_pr%C4%93x_request_armenian_a%C5%82ersank_a%C5%82a%C4%8Dank/ . The simplest reason for some r > 0 is a uvular pronunciation R, common in many languages. If R became a fricative, as in French, it might merge with PIE h1, h2, h3 and disappear. The Dardic languages might show traces of this R, with r > x \ h in Kh. (or indirectly, with Rt > xt > th): Skt. vṛtra- ‘stone’, *vart(r)a- > Rom. barr, Kh. boxt \ boht \ bohrt ‘rock/stone’, Ks. bath, Ti. baṭ(h) ‘large rock’, Dm. bāṭ , Dv. wāt'
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If this *R is already needed for *r, including *k > *q to help make sense of IE optional treatments of K could work. PIE h1, h2, h3 and R sometimes disappeared; any uvular fricative to 0 would thus cover both. Pamir languages also show irregular K > Q, and their location relatively near Dardic, showing traces of the same, could explain that those on the fringes of IE territory shared this retention. This is not regular, yet orderly, fitting, and in step with common features seen around the world. It also allows many irregular changes to velar C’s to merge into one kind of optionality: K vs. Q. Even if this is not the exact cause, trying to understand broad changes by broad rules is better than coming up with an odd explanation for each oddity.
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Alb Albanian
Arm Armenian
Aro Aromanian
Asm Assamese
Av Avestan
Bal Baluchi
Be Bengali
Bg Bulgarian
Bu Burushaski
E English
EArm Eastern Armenian
G Greek
Go Gothic
H Hittite
Hi Hindi
Is Ishkashimi
It Italian
K Kassite
Kd Kurdish
Kho Khotanese
Khw Khwarezmian
Ku Kusunda
L Latin
Li Lithuanian
Lt Latvian
M Mitanni
Mh Marathi
MArm Middle Armenian
MW Middle Welsh
NHG New High German
MHG Middle High German
OHG Old High German
OBg Old Bulgarian
OBr Old Breton
OIc Old Icelandic
OIr Old Irish
OE Old English
ON Old Norse
OPr Old Prussian
OP Old Persian
MP Middle Persian
NP (New) Persian (Farsi)
Nw Norwegian
Os Ossetian
Phr Phrygian
Ps Pashto
R Russian
Ru Romanian\Rumanian
Sar Sarikoli
Shu Shughni
Skt Sanskrit
Sog Sogdian
TA Tocharian A
TB Tocharian B
W Welsh
Wx Wakhi
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Gy Gypsy
Dv Domari \ Do:mva:ri:
Lv Lomavren
Rom Romani
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Dardic Group
A Atshareetaá \ (older Palola < *Paaloolaá)
B Bangani
Ba bHaṭé-sa zíb \ Bhaṭeri
D Degaanó \ Degano
Dk Domaaki \ Domaá \ D.umaki
Dm Dameli
Gi Gultari
Id Indus Kohistani
Ka Kalam Kohistani \ Kalami \ Gawri \ Bashkarik
Kati
Kh Khowàr
Km Kashmiri
Ks Kalasha
KS Kundal Shahi
Kt ktívi kâtá vari
Kv Kâmvíri
Pl Paaluulaá
Pr Prasun
Ni Nišei-alâ
Np Nepali
Sa Saňu-vīri
Sh Shina
Ti Torwali
Wg Waigali \ Kalas.a-alâ

As of right now the ai is cool, but a bit basic. I've been thinking of ways to make it more interesting and I think I got a good idea that'll make it more interactive.
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Its based on one question: What if cannibals could build fortresses to protect themselves from us?
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This would completely change the majority of cannibal interactions, and change what they do and how they interact with their environment.
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There would be multiple but not infinite tribes split across the map, each spawning on a cannibal camp site.
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First, here is how each involved cannibal would change and what their role is within these tribes:
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gold masked cannibals: These are the leaders of the tribe, commanding everyone within, but still performing tasks related to each group they order, just more efficient then other cannibals in the same group. They are always accompanied by 2-3 other regular cannibals, who will protect him from harm. Each tribe starts with one, but as groups are made new gold masks will spawn to control each group.
Red cannibals: These are exclusive to the raiding parties, with a max of 3 per tribe. I will explain their role when I get to the raiding party.
Regular cannibals: Middle members of the tribe, they gather things like logs when they learn how to cut them down, rocks when they learn how to build with them, and they will hunt deer, moose, fish, cannibals from other tribes, and if your unlucky, they will try to hunt you. They will bring their catches back to camp to either cook, or store away.
Muddies: Lowest tier, but perhaps the most important. These gather Stones, bones, Sticks, and berries. If you kill a cannibal but leave the body, they will drag it back and burn it for bones for later use. When part of a tribe they will utilize weaponry like spears and sickles, but not be as efficient with them as regular mutants.
Mutants: Only appearing when they can spawn outside of caves, they would patrol in a small circle around camp. Rarely, They will join a raid party. only fingers and the twins will behave like this.
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Now for the groups, it starts with one, and as the stages progress, they would split into 3 performing different tasks.:
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1: This is the first group that appears when the tribe spawns. It will perform slight tasks that relate to the other 2 until it splits. Once split, this becomes the construction group. no muddies are here, and it consists of 6-8 regular cannibals and one gold mask. They will take resources gathers and construct buildings and defenses. These stay at camp 24/7, so they also act as primary defenders.
2: This is the gathering group. Cannibals here will wear camo clothing or bush/leaf armor to hide themselves among the forest. Even the gold mask leading them will wear this armor. This group consists of 5-6 muddies, 3-4 regular cannibals, and the gold mask. Regular cannibals will cut trees down when they learn to make and use axes, or steal logs from you. Any resource gathered will be stored in holders at the camp. The gold mask can carry 2 logs, 2 rocks, 3-4 stones, and up to 6 sticks, separately ofc. These cannibals will attempt to ambush you should they come across you, but if one is killed, they will retreat, even the gold mask will leave.
3: This is the raiding party. this also functions like a scout group. At first they will not send patrols out, but stock up on weapons like spears, clubs, and sickles. They will make these weapons for the other groups to use as well. They will then leave to scout out POIs, resource locations, and your base, as well as other cannibal camps and tribes. If they find you, they may decide to grab weapons and come attempt a raid. here is where the red cannibals come in. the group will stay behind, but the red cannibals will come look at your gates. If they can easily walk up, they will construct a battering ram when preparing to raid with 2 logs and a few sticks, then attempt to bash your gates in when they arrive. If there is defenses, they will stock up on rocks, go back to camp to get them like the battering ram, and throw them past your defenses to hit the gates and defenses down. When scouting, they are non aggressive, even if there is a mutant there, and will watch you but not engage. They may hide in or behind trees to add more of a horror factor. If they come back to their camp destroyed, they will b line to the place they saw you last, or the nearest camp to them for revenge.
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These tribes would also fight each other, so you may be able to see a raid group attempting to raid another tribe.
you may be able to watch massive fights outside of camps, of two raid parties attacking each other, or a raid party hunting down a gathering group.
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Here is how armor and weapons could work:
The raid group would construct weapons and armor and set them on racks, and when needed cannibals who do not have anything will grab them off the rack and equip them. Cannibals will grab weapons off of dead bodies if none are in racks.
Guns cannot be used, and carbon fiber arrows cant be used either.
Every cannibal except for red cannibals and mutants can wear armor. They will wear small amounts of it and it doesn't make them immune, just take reduced damage. Only bone and leaf armor will be used.
Gold mask weapons could depend on what they order. Constructor gold masks will use boat motors because they don't leave base which balances it out. Resource gathering gold mask will use a heavy spear or a fire axe, and raiding will have the regular weapon.
Cannibals would loot wreckage like boats, helicopters and the spawn crates. These may contain grenades and molotovs or materials for them, and regular mutants can use them. (grenades will be nerfed for obvious reasons).
Tribes would have a maximum amount of cannibals in it, which could be around 30 or so, and wont stop spawning until maxed, this cap may increase as the stages increase. They will also have a cap on loot stored, but will be heavily increased as stages increase. This is because raiding them will be no easy task so they need to be worth attacking. After a cannibal is killed, after a small amount of time the type that was killed will respawn. This excludes gold masks, who will only respawn if you fail the raid, or leave.
Because there is so much that could make raiding cannibal fortresses very difficult, I propose the return of the catapult and maybe a few more siege/defense related structures, to aid you.
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I've been mentioning stages, they would progress you progress, the more weapons you get, size of your base you make, and progress in general will increase these stages. Here they are and what could happen to the tribes in them:
Stage 1: First stage, acts like a normal cannibal camp, though the gold mask will always be in camp, and some muddies will gather some resources. Cannibal cap 10
Stage 2: Gathering group forms, holders are constructed by 1st group. More resources are gathered and faster. Cannibals start bringing military grade loot to camp. Loot cap 3 containers
Stage 3: Cannibals learn to craft axes. Basic defense are made(spike traps, and some defensive walls). Food stores and fires made. Cannibal cap increased by 5, max 15
Stage 4: raid group formed, though small. weapon racks and more advanced weapons made (bows and slightly stronger spears). Armor made if possible. Cannibal cap increased by 5, max 20
Stage 5: Outer wall completed or being complete, watchtowers start appearing. Alerting a cannibal in the tower will alert the entire tribe unless a group is out somewhere, in that case just whoever is in the camp and is nearby will be alerted. Raid party will now start to raid bases it has discovered. Loot cap increases from 3 containers to 12. Loot inside quality increase.
Stage 6: walls get reinforced, taking less damage from all sources. cannibals use bows more often, and cannibals are armored more. loot cap increased to 20. max cannibals increased to 25.
stage 7: final stage, walls start being replaced with stone walls, taking even less damage. more weapon racks and resource holders made. max cannibals increased to 30. max loot increased to 25 containers. loot quantity in containers increased.
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I thought of some more behavior changes that could go along with it as well:
maybe at different times cannibals will sleep in their camps, like mid morning or late evening and get up right as night starts.
tribes would respond to seasons as well. In winter cannibals will be less active, all groups will wear bone armor, gathering groups no longer blend in but will still attempt to ambush, but wont run even if one is killed. They will equip torches for warmth, but leave them when fighting or hunting. They will stay in camp more often, even the raiding party will barely raid and scout. Lower activity, higher armor and equipment
during summer they could wear less armor as to not overheat, but will be much more active. they will sleep less so they will be out doing stuff more then winter. high activity, lower armor
spring and autumn would be in between, medium armor, medium activity.
Cannibals when raiding may throw molotovs and grenades if they have access to them over your walls if they can.
If a cannibal tribe is aware of one of your base, and you make another somewhere else, they wont know about the new base until they discover it.
Muddies typically would be more offensive, but can be defensive. Regular cannibals could wait and behave more defensive.
since there is a limited amount of tribes, the regular ai we have now will remain and take up the rest of the space, as to not make the game to easy. perhaps there could be nomadic tribes that remain relatively small and wander around, making and leaving primitive structures.
Now one issue that may occur, is the horror element may get hurt from this change, so maybe the camp will send cannibals to ambush and harass you out of no where, but not necessarily kill you. maybe they could do this with mutants as well.
And because this would be a massive overhaul, you would be able to turn this off, and the ai would return to how it normally is.
Ofc things will need to be balanced, the values probably will need to change as to not make it to hard/easy, and it needs to be fair.

I LOVED fallen order. It had it's whackadoodle moments and issues sure, but overall it was a great experience. I beat it on Grandmaster as I assume thats where the souls-like comes from.
I'm currently on the dagon gera fight for persepective.
However in this game I can't help but feel an undercurrent of mocking cynicism in nearly everything.

1. Names are puns. Cere=Seer(living plothook) Merrin(Mary Sue)Bode, His name is literally a synonym for omen and it feels like a placeholder that just got left in. Vocabulary alone spoils the fact that he's going to turncoat even though i'm not there yet.
2. The combat system is very much less of a skill based system and a more about picking the right loadout for the fight. They design things to be possible sure but so wildly inconsistent that for proper gameflow and combat flow there are very obvious "right" choices for lots of fights. Blaster stance for oggdo to interrupt him constantly is one instance. Doublesaber for literally every group of enemies because cal can't deflect more than one bolt without being locked into a defense animation. You should be able to time the deflect parries and bounce them back as long as you aren't hit or miss the timings.
3. Deus ex Merrin.
4. The worlds are pretty, but Fallen order takes the cake and it's not close. Map design is very nice with the shortcuts though I will say that.

So my 3 main points of argument for quality which are Aesthetic, Story and combat. Survivor just feels less than rushed, it feels like the devs just did NOT like the universe they were designing in. These are my issues, if you feel the same or slightly different i'd like to know. If you have more reason to argue these points other than "I'm just a big fan of SW" let me hear it.

There is this thing that I call Cruel Weakness. I see it all the time in people. They are the Weak people who are Evil. They're bullied a lot, but it's not what made them Evil. They were always Evil just too weak to propagate their bad nature.
I see in Carol's character something like that.
She was cold with the daughter. She knew her husband was abusing, but didn't do much to protect her. Not because there were no ways to do so. She took her just ONE night to the abused shelter, and then returned her to the house where her husband was.
Her daughter wasn't as important to her as her regular life was.
She read books about child psychology, we see that in scenes.
Yet she terrorizes the kid in Alexandria, pushing him to insanity.
Later she allows the paranoid girl to kill her sister, leaving her alone with her, despite having the knowledge to detect how dangerous she was. And there was not a real reason to leave her alone with her sister and the baby.
Before that she murders sick people and burns them alive.
Later, she has no place to go, so she tracks Rick's group and with a lot of luck she manages to save them, with a while lot of armor plot that made no sense, (gas tanks right on the entrance waiting to be shot???)
Moving ahead, she treats Lydia like shit, trying to push her to suicide, just because she loved a boy.
Carol is Evil inside, the worse kind of Evil who uses things that happen to her, things that don't really "touch her", she is more like observing them happening to her, and weaponizing them in order to later justify her own Evil actions.

I took the April test and got a score right around my average. While I'm very pleased with the score, I'm hoping to retake in August to put myself in a more comfortable position with my target schools. Before the April test, I had been very solid on both RC and LR, averaging about -3 and -2 respectively, but I was still only getting -2 or -3 on LG, with some blow up sections where I'd miss about 5. Time hasn't really been an issue. Instead, I seem to struggle with more complex grouping games, multi layered ordering games, and I occasionally misdiagram (which I did on the April test). If you've been in a similar situation, what might you recommend I look into? I read through the LSAT Trainer and enjoyed that format - should I get another book like Powerscore? Or just continue drilling to become more consistent? Any advice would be greatly appreciated, so thanks in advance!

*** Warning! You are entering a Thought Experiment Zone! The OP and the replies may contain unsavory concepts and ideas that would never be implemented, but as a discussion tool may provide deeper insights. ***
Right now in Chicago it's easy to get on stage compared to the past. Many theaters have BYOT nights and jams. A common show right now is the "Anchor2". One team of merit anchors a slot with 2 rotating guest teams. As a producer I've had teams ask for an early slot in a running order because they have their own Anchor2 show across town.
Stage time has gotten so cheap that I've had producers of Anchor2s come recruit teams from classes. Not grads but students of all levels are invited to put teams together and fill slots.
How could this be bad? Isn't it exactly what players wanted all along? A community of performers not beholden to the whims of a theater. Back in '98 it might take an actual year to get on stage, and then only after classes. It would have been great to get join the community right away rather than having to "pay my dues".
I'll leave the positives alone for now (ThoughtExperimentZone!) and discuss some negatives. This gets very capitalistic, supply and demand-y. Economics is, as some say, the study of human behavior. So what is cheap stage time incentivising?

• why go watch a show if I can perform in one?
• why rehearse as a team if we can perform?
• why take classes if we can book our own shows?
• why commit to one group if I can book more shows if I'm on more teams?
• why try and get better if the classic reward for excellence, stage time, is widely available?

After 8 months of iO being back in business I fear the results of cheap stage time have been low attendance, scattered commitments, and (perhaps ironically) a rudderlessness in terms of style and technique. Can amazing ensembles emerge if there is no one to see their shows? Is prestige even a thing anymore?
Maybe I have this completely backwards. Let's discuss! I'm dying to know what other people think! I won't judge yours if you don't judge mine! Would the Chicago scene be helped by making stage time more expensive?

Is it possible to order the larger bags of bbq chips at a jimmy johns location. I got them a few times at Walmart but looks like they havnt restocked in almost a year. I check a few times a week.

I'd been out of touch with SK's work since Desperation, so I decided to dive in and just marathon a bunch of his newer books. I knew almost nothing about them except that Doctor Sleep was a sequel to The Shining. The order in the post title is the order in which I read them, and, although I didn't intend this, I appeared to be reading them in increasing order of quality.
Doctor Sleep - Fun, but weak. Dan Torrance was the only character that felt truly fleshed out. Abra had some personality, but Rose was pretty much one-dimensional, and everyone else seemed inconsequential (even if they weren't, plot-wise). John Dalton and Abra's parents were cardboard cutouts, too thin even for supporting characters. Too many characters in general for this kind of story, which moved at breakneck speed. A page-turner for sure, but shallow. As a follow-up to The Shining it was disappointing, and, by itself, rather forgettable. I watched the film adaptation, which was competent (and holy shit that scene with Bradley Trevor), but it had some of the same problems as its source material. One other nag I had was that the good guys don't lose any primary members.
Fairy Tale - More heat in this one for sure, and I echo what other readers have said about it. Everything up until Empis was marvelous. Mr. Bowditch was just wonderfully characterized, and Charlie was quite believable as a teen who has a checkered past but is gosh-darn good at heart. My biggest issue was basically the same as with Doctor Sleep: once we hit Empis, SK wasn't as invested in that world as he was in everything before it, and after we slogged through Deep Maleen it was so much moving of chess pieces for the big showdown. Which, fine, SK even said as much, it's a fantasy world with capital-F Fate and supernatural beings and all that... but IMO it simply wasn't given the same weight as Sentry's Rest, and most of us felt that.
The Institute - More solid than the other two, but still suffering from some of the same problems. Tim Jamieson was built up nicely, and then pushed aside from the main Institute plot, which was an expanded version of the Shop from Firestarter. Now, I love the Shop and I was delighted to spend a lot of time with a similar organization. I expected indifferent/malicious staff, with varying degrees of craziness, and I wasn't disappointed, even if they were caricatures at times. Where it fell flat for me was the characterization of the kids. We didn't get inside the head of anyone besides Luke, and even he wasn't as memorable as, say, anyone from the Losers Club. I think building out at least a few of them would have made things much more powerful, but, as with the other two books, SK seemed mainly interested in moving the plot along. Returning to Jamieson and DuPray was abrupt, but welcome, and I enjoyed how things ended with a genuine philosophical difference between the good and bad guys (link).
Mr. Mercedes - Okay, now we're getting somewhere. Just a damned fun detective thriller, which, as far as I know, SK had never done before. It felt like he deeply cared about this one, and I was only somewhat shocked to learn that it was the first in a trilogy. My biggest gripe was that, as a SK-written serial killer that's also a main character, Brady should have been at least as memorable as Annie Wilkes, and he wasn't. And I'm not sure how to analyze that. In Misery, we never saw things from Annie's point of view, but that was part of her power—we had only Paul Sheldon to help us guess at what the hell is going on inside her head, and we were scared shitless. Here, we saw a lot of Brady's inner monologue, but he's as pathetic as he is scary, perhaps more so. In a way, I get it, it's a detective novel and it's as much about the deductive process and the thrill of the chase as anything else, but I couldn't shake the feeling that I was cheated a bit. All that said, I found the supporting characters in Mr. Mercedes to be stronger on average than in the other books and I've no hesitation about plunging into Finders Keepers.

First Previous Next
Hold fast to dreams
For if dreams die
Life is a broken-winged bird
That cannot fly.
— Langston Hughes
Catalogue Description
Self-Monitoring Behavioural Management Report: Casimir Szymański, Scazim Institute of Science and Technology - English Translation
Date:
15 Summer-2 3429 (Standard Parimthian Calendar)
November 23rd, 2162 (Gregorian Calendar)
Held by:
The UK National Archives, Kew
Legal status:
Public Record(s)
My father worshipped a fabricated, pagan prophet.
The Senghavi of the Parimthian Empire are principally joined under the ditheistic religion called Siedi, which I do not subscribe to. Of course, the Senghavi's literature, art, and faith flooded the whole of Earth upon their arrival a century ago. From this ocean of civilised culture, my degenerate species drew a sample, claimed it as our own, and polluted it with a distorted, appropriated, dumbed-down doctrine.
The central figure in this corrupt sample of Siedi was a man whom my father called Jesus Christ. He was said to have offered himself as a sacrifice that could be made to a single God. It was a final sacrifice, one beyond lambs or cattle or people. One that would atone for humanity's sins, so that we could have the free choice between the eternal presence of God and the eternal absence of "Him."
My father dressed himself in black, with a standing collar whose white fabric was exposed at the centre. That much, I could recall. He preached to hopeful humans in what was called a church, though I did not know what he was preaching. At the very least, my childhood is fuzzy in that regard.
The pain that throbbed through my skull, after the blonde savage had slammed my head against the ridges of the airlock, faded into the background. I could not focus; perhaps, I thought, one of their improvised explosives had gone off by accident. There was blue Senghavi blood staining my dress shirt. The rush of air escaping into vacuum pierced my ears.
Perhaps it was thirst of water, which binds most sapient beings—the Sons of Liberty had reached an agreement with the Colonial Defence Force to allow spacecraft delivering food, water, and medical aid, only to unleash the anti-collision lasers of this cursed spaceliner upon those very ships.
Or perhaps it was the explosion, as I initially thought, an inadvertent complication which had wrought injury and death over my countrymen, and which had forced the terrorist savages to attempt to patch up the many hull breaches left by debris.
Or perhaps it was simply the stress of betraying, in my desperate efforts to save everyone from this senseless violence, the greatest secret of the Senghavi Terrans: our antimatter research. Word of it had likely been forwarded already, hundreds of light-years away, to that pink-hued marble which was Parimth itself.
Or perhaps it was all three; thirst, explosion, and stress. In any case, my mind shut it all out, and something lost from my childhood flashed before me:
We're standing on the cracked street of the Vennec Human Reservation. In the distance, the Senghavi's white, glassy spires reach above the clouds, their accents of luminescence dim in the broad daylight.
I hold a ball in my palm. It's wrapped in white leather held together with red stitching. I toss it to Dad.
Instead of his clerical uniform, he wears the normal "T-shirt" and "cargo shorts." Along with the clerical getup, they are just two of the many sorts of clothing which the Senghavi have invented for humanity. I toss the ball to Dad, and he swings a primitive wooden bat.
The ball goes soaring, further than he meant to. He jogs down the road to retrieve it, then gives me the wooden bat. The breeze ruffles his hair just as he ruffles mine with his hand.
"Now, you try," he says. "It's just practice, that's all."
For some reason, he lifts one leg in the air, then pitches the ball to me. I swing. The impact of the ball shakes through the wood, and it goes careening off to the left.
"I did it!" I yell. "But it went out of bounds."
"Heyyyy, that's not bad," Dad says with a reassuring voice. "Good job, just try to go a little more right next time."
Mom comes out onto the front porch, the breeze ruffling her dress as she waves to Dad. "Dinner's ready, and Mom's pie is... almost ready."
I stare blankly at her until I realise that she is talking about her Mom, Grandma, who is the best at making pumpkin pie.
"The pie!" I shout, running and jumping to the front door. "I totally forgot about that!"
I am ready to speed my way through dinner just so I can get to dessert, but Dad stops me before my first bite.
Of course, I think. We need to say grace. Me, Mom, Dad, Grandma, and Grandpa all hold hands, thanking God for our food, and then dig in. But Mom and Dad just talk about work, and I am too focused on finishing my food quickly to pitch in.
Finally—Grandma's pie!
When you bite into the soft, smooth filling, you can instantly tell it's been made with fresh pumpkins, not the boring canned ones. The taste of cinnamon and spice is balanced out perfectly with the coolness of the whipped cream.
The flavour spreads through my tongue and nostrils, filling my entire brain with a feeling of amazing-ness. If I wrote the Simple-Speak Dictionary for Senghavi Terrans, I'd put Grandma's pie next to the translation of "perfection."
I should save a slice, I think, for the Senghavi kid.
Even though it's only been a week since I met him through the playground fence, we already told each other where we live, and I want to get to know him more. He doesn't live on the Vennec Human Reservation, but his house is just a bike-ride away in Fellye Neighborhood.
I wonder if anyone's ever given pumpkin pie to an alien before. Even though humans only invented it fifty years ago, it makes me feel proud of my species!
When Mom tucks me into bed, kissing my forehead, I tell her what I'm going to do.
"Oh, you wild thing," she coos. "You're so much like your father. And you have his eyes, you know? Just stay safe."
"Don't worry, I'll do my best."
>! "Good night. I love you." !<
>! "I love you, too, Mom," I say. I hug her tightly from my bed, and a warm, fuzzy feeling blossoms within me. I can hardly fall asleep in my excitement. !<
Luckily, Fellye Neighborhood doesn't take apartheid that seriously, and I don't think anybody cares about an eight year-old human riding his bicycle around the gates.
Next evening, I do just that, peddling out of the Reservation's entrance into the violet dusk. When I get to Mensim's address, I ring the hi-tech front doorbell, and a really tall Senghavi shows up.
"Oh, dear," she says in Parimthian. "A barbarian hatchling—by what name do you go?"
"I'm Casimir," I say nervously. I don't pay that much attention in school, but I know just enough Parimthian to talk to the Senghavi woman. "Are you Mrs. Munghazi? Is Mensim fe Munghazi here? I got two slices of pie. You can have one, too!"
She looks at me suspiciously, antennae twitching. "That would be Teacher Munghazi to you; I know not why you natives invented these odd 'Mister' and 'Missis' honorifics. Hold on—Ghanvati! A native hatchling stands at our doorstep!"
Ghanvati must be Mensim's dad. I wonder where his other moms are; only one has shown up to the door. Ghanvati shows up with two of them—they are both shorter and daintier than Teacher Munghazi, their raptorial forelimbs folded shyly against their bodies. In front of the group of three is Mensim, and I involuntarily gasped with excitement.
"Mensim!"
"This is your new companion?" Ghanvati asks Mensim.
Mensim's papery forewings flicker with affirmation. "I met him at school."
"What, pray tell, is the point of apartheid if it does not actually keep natives away from Senghavi?" whines one of Ghanvati's wives.
Ghanvati's antennae droop as if to say "I don't know," while Mensim lifts my arms, inspecting me like I am a test animal in a mad scientist's laboratory.
"How do you guys not get cut all the time?" he asks, tracing his tarsal hairs over my bare skin. "You're so fleshy!"
"I do get cut all the time," I giggled. "We just use band-aids. Oh, do you wanna eat a pumpkin pie?"
It turned out that pumpkin pie is bad for alien stomachs. Mensim had to go to the bathroom for a long time, and three of his moms got mad at me.
When I got back, Dad and Mom were arguing. I snuck close to the back porch, making sure they couldn't hear me.
"Yes, they leave some people alone," Dad said. "Obviously, they can't spy on every single human who believes in human religions. But Katarzyna, they still need people to make an example out of, and I don't want to be that person!"
"Casimir is a responsible kid," Mom retorts. "I told him he can't tell anyone what you do, and he listens to me."
"He's eight years old. You can't just let him wander around aliens with a secret that could have me killed! Or have you killed!"
Mom cups Dad's cheek and looks him in the eye. She's a lot shorter than him. "Look, love. You're a great father, and I think it's amazing that you spend time with him. But you're the only person he talks to. You know just as well as I do that he needs to talk to other kids! It's not healthy; even Teacher Perevvoxath agreed. And now he finally has a friend."
Dad sighs, running his hands through his black hair. My hair. "You really think aliens are a substitute for human interaction?"
>! "I think every human needs a person they can talk to, and Casimir found one. If you really care about him, stop preaching for a while! Your church isn't gonna die without you. It'll be okay." !<
The next day, I visit Mensim's house after school again. And the next day after that, and the next after that. His dad Ghanvati is formally named Engineer Munghazi. I am to call his moms Teacher Munghazi, Teacher Munghazi, Teacher Munghazi, Accountant Munghazi, Priestess Munghazi, Doctor Munghazi, and Maidservant Munghazi.
A couple weeks later, Mensim and I are lounging together on his couch, watching a Parimthian war movie. The main characters are fighting against the evil forces of the Imperium of Orion. Under his head capsule, Mensim is munching something called Synth-Fruit, which is imported from a faraway planet called Mryi. I eat Pop-Tarts, which I'm pretty sure are toxic to him.
"Come on, just give me one," Mensim exclaims, reaching over to steal the sweet snacks from me. "It can't be that bad!"
I lift the Pop-Tarts away from him, laughing. "Stoppit, you're attacking me! Pay attention to the movie, or I'm gonna shoot you!"
"But I just want one..."
"It's gonna poison you, and you're gonna get your weird alien throw-up all over me!"
Priestess Munghazi, the oldest of his moms, bursts into the living room, her jewellery clinking over her clerical cape.
"Your sister conveyed to me quite the disturbing piece of news, Mensim," Priestess Munghazi cries. "The father of Casimir is a priest of a most barbarous and evil perversion of the Siedi faith. Ghanvati and I spoke, and we agreed that you are not to consort with this primitive, pagan savage any longer."
I drop my crumbly Pop-Tart on the couch, confused at the sudden order.
"But Priestess Munghazi, I'm not dangerous or evil. I'm just a kid."
"Nonsense! You are dangerous; your father is a barbarian worshipper of this evil, primate paganism that is called Christianity, and a most woeful effect is begot that even self-respecting Senghavi have 'gone native,' as they say. Mensim, if you continue to consort with this native spawn, I will be impelled to inform the Siedi Court, and they may by chance see to it that he is executed!"
"W-Wait!" Mensim says, holding up the remote to pause our movie. He gets off of me, suddenly losing interest in my Pop-Tart, his vestigial forewings rising with concern. "Please, Mother. I promise he won't be any trouble."
My blood runs cold. Dad, executed? Just because what he believes in isn't "civilised" enough? Actually, I thought that Mom told him to stop preaching for a while.
Mensim scrambles to *his father's sleeping quarters, and I trail frantically after him.*
"Father," Mensim says. "Is Casimir's father's job so ghastly that he should be executed by the Siedi Court?"
"We can't just let the natives spread the same barbarous religions that they used to kill each other," Ghanvati replies, his secondary arms clasped together. "It's a threat to safe, moral society. Priestess Munghazi told me his father spreads evil and paganism. I have no reason not to trust the oldest of your mothers."
"But Casimir's my best friend! If you tell the Siedi Court about his father, I'll... I'll run away! I'll hate you!"
Distressed vibrations emanate through the floor beneath my feet; Mensim's antennae and papery forewings and hindwings go limp. Something like lilies and the earthy scent of rain fills the air.
"My dearest Mensim," Ghanvati says softly, dipping his head capsule with compassion. "I will hold off, just this once. It would be apt of you not to cause me to reconsider."
"T-thank you, Engineer Munghazi," I say, wiping my own tears. "My dad's not a bad person, I promise."
After confronting his dad, Mensim and I keep on watching movies and playing digital games. He always wins when we wrestle, but I still haven't given up (even though Priestess Munghazi always tells us to stop roughhousing).
I even bring my Lego pieces to his house. He doesn't know what Legos are, but later, in his sleeping quarters, we build together. He makes a cool-looking spaceship that he calls a "negative energy generator."
"Hey, you took all the cool black and grey pieces," I complain. "Now I can't finish my army base!"
"This is cooler than your army base," Mensim says proudly. "Father used to work in one. It uses the superposition of squeezed vacuum states to produce a field of negative energy density."
"I have no idea what that means, but that sounds really smart."
"No kidding! It's how people make wormholes and fly all the way to other stars."
"Well, my army guys could beat your negative energy-thingy. They have machine guns."
"My guys could just fly a [~million billion trillion kilometres] away, and yours can't do anything about it!"
"Then your guys are wimps. But my guys aren't. Because they're the Army!"
>! We also explore the pine forest in his backyard. Within just two more weeks, we have uncovered all sorts of interesting things, like a piece of a real human skull. One time, we found a human foot sculpted and smoothed out of stone—who would make such a thing?—and a dead metal device with the icon of a bitten-out-of apple printed on it. !<
There were also other human body parts made out of ancient stone, too: the cracked half of a man's face buried a foot deep, a muscly arm sticking out of the soil. Even a private part, which I snickered at, though Mensim seemed unfazed.
There is something else we start to do. My parents have given me "the talk," and Mensim told me that his parents gave him the Senghavi version of it. And so even as we talk and play in the woods, we experiment—because we are curious, and why should we not be?
A fragment of a memory in the forest; Mensim's raptorial forelimbs are set on my shoulders as his compound eyes look into my primate eyes, and he says, "You cannot tell anyone about this. Anyone. Absolutely no one."
I don't know how, but Priestess Munghazi learned of what we were doing, and now she expresses anger and disgust alike, her wings and antennae wild and rigid. Ghanvati is the same. Mensim and I... We're actually making them reconsider their decision not to tell the Siedi Court about my dad.
A fragment of a memory... I feel like I am in space, stranded aboard a spaceliner that has been hijacked by terrorists, its atmosphere venting amid a backdrop of violence... But I am not, I am in the forest that Mensim and I talked and played in; I am in Mensim's home, terrified as I am yelled at by Ghanvati, whose compassion no longer shines through, accompanied by Priestess Munghazi.
"By the names of the Gods, it's those false, pagan corruptions which humans have named as their religions, that are spouted by your father," Priestess Munghazi spits. I am teary-eyed and snot-nosed from guilt and embarrassment. "How horrid is the link between the state of barbarism and a most revolting and shameful propensity for bizarre and perverted behaviour!"
Then I am in my own family's living room, and the mom I love so dearly yells at me, too, but my father is quieter and only seems disappointed. This must be the first time in my life that I have felt true shame, I think; the kind that leaves you with an emptiness inside. Like the whole point of existing just vanished inside of me.
The worst part is that I cannot even lean on Mom's shoulder, because she is distressed—because she knows what will happen—
"This is all on you, Casimir!" she screeches, tears in her eyes. "All on you!"
I remember telling Priestess Munghazi that 'I'm not dangerous or evil; I'm just a kid,' but now I can't be sure anymore. I can tell I am different in the eyes of my family. They are disgusted by me.
It is my fault, after all, that Priestess Munghazi tells the Siedi Court of my father's evil, barbaric Christian teachings.
The Parimthian soldiers bring my father to the gallows. Their snow-white exoskeletons gleam under a burning sun. They have dressed him in his clerical uniform, and the camera is close enough that I can see his cross necklace.
I have been grounded in my room; still, I have a television to see the live broadcast.
Hanging works for primates and mantids alike. It happens in the Forum of Movvaeti, the venue for public events in our area, where my father is a lesser criminal compared to the native leaders and Senghavi malcontents who have dissented from Colonial Governor Nieve fe Skellth.
He is joined with seven other convicts, three humans and four Senghavi, and their crimes are read to the crowd—blasphemy, paganism, monogamy, witchcraft, seditious libel, insulting the Parimthian Crown, treason against the Parimthian Crown, and refusal to quarter Parimthian soldiers.
Why? None of this feels right. Why should my father be killed because of what he says and believes? Why can't these people be judged with fairness, rather than at the whim of some distant space emperor?
Not only have I been grounded, but I grow cold without my mother's touch. I want to hold someone's hand while watching Dad lose his life, but nobody is there. Mom brings me food, but she doesn't even look at me. Why can't she look at me? Why can't she speak to me? I just want things to be the way they used to be, when Dad would help me practise hitting a ball with a bat on the street.
I watch him turn down a caped, bejewelled priestess of the Siedi faith, who thought she could make my dad accept their Gods before his death. Before a modest crowd of humans and Senghavi alike, all eight of the convicts have their arms and legs bound with rope.
I am begging myself to turn the TV off, but I can't bring myself to. The Senghavi executioner uses some kind of hi-tech display to remove the supports from beneath the convicts' feet. My stomach flips over inside of me, a nausea of shame filling my body.
I can't deny it any longer. This is my fault—this is why my family avoids me—this is why they are disgusted by me—and Dad falls and his head jerks when the noose goes taut.
As he hangs there, I cannot tell for how long he remains alive. My insides are cold. After the broadcast ends, after night falls and I sit in the moonlight spilling faintly through my windows, that is when it all comes out. I sob alone. I scream for Mom to help me and be there for me, but she does not come. Her harsh voice resonates through my memory; this is all on me. I am a disgrace to everyone I love, and that is why they have left me here. Why they avoid me as if I am a disease.
The only thing I want is to see Dad again, but he is gone forever. I curl up on my room floor. What is this? What is this loneliness? This stinging hatred I feel against myself?
No one, human or mantid, will be there for me. I cry until my throat cannot ache any more harshly, until my eyes cannot sting any more painfully, and then I go cold inside, my body shivering in the moonlight. I retreat into my happy memories with Dad until it is too painful to bear.
I wish so dearly I could end it all, to take my own life and join Dad in the heaven that he believed in. There is a belt in my closet that I can use on myself in the way the Siedi Court killed Dad.
But beneath the sickly well of shame, the nausea and crushing humiliation at the stupid antics of Mensim and I, with which Mom's brief gaze pierces me—beneath the weight of knowing that I will never fill the torturous vacuum Dad left, knowing that I am a foul and disgusting son to the mother I so desperately need, that I see no end to the infinite river of anxiety and guilt pouring through the hole left in my heart—beneath my isolation and my longing for human touch—something breaks inside of me.
An emptiness of purpose. There is no point in going on, and I feel nothing, not even the desire to stop living. There is one exception: A hatred of myself, and of the humans I loved as family.
One day, Mom appears in my doorway, and she just stands there. Before, I would've welcomed being offered interaction with her beyond just receiving food, but now I am numb, my eyes all out of tears to cry.
"Pack your things," she says, her voice flat. She still doesn't look at me; the eyes she once said I inherited from Dad, she now shuns. "You're going to a residential school."
Indigenous Residential Schools; that is what Colonial Governor Nieve fe Skellth calls them, I think. They're for human kids who have trouble letting go of their "savage" roots; kids that the normal schools aren't enough to civilise. Schools that show you how to act Senghavi, to think Senghavi, to... be Senghavi.
There was a human kid in normal school whose sister went there, but they said that something had happened to her there; something in that residential school had changed her before she finally returned.
But I feel no fear as I pack my clothes into my bags. Every time I look in my bedroom mirror, a violent feeling rushes to my chest, only to dissipate into the hatred-tinged numbness I have grown so used to.
Finally, the time comes to depart. In the early morning, I am already aboard the autonomous public transport. It pulls out of the cracked street I once played with Dad in, passing by the entrance of Fellye Neighborhood, driving off into the fiery, violet Terran dawn. I see my faded reflection in the window, and my chest jumps with revulsion.
So I look down, fidgeting with my touchpad—then the numbness abruptly leaves, and my tears fall once again.
Forgive me for all the redaction, Doctor Morgthax. While I will not disclose what I wrote, you are correct, as always, about the act of writing. There is some semblance of psychological relief in typing one's sullen inner thoughts onto a touchpad. As if one can be heard without being heard.
By the time I drifted back to reality, my mouth and lips dry from dehydration, the hijackers had patched up the holes punched through the hull by the accidental explosion. Plenty of Senghavi passengers were spilling cerulean blood from beneath their exoskeletal coverings; though they were all alive, they needed medical attention.
Two hundred-something Senghavi civilians aboard this luxury spaceliner, and none had yet died. That stroke of luck offered me a glimmer of hope.
Pavok, the child, was emitting vibrations through the floor in his despair, the smell of rain and lilies becoming evident to me. It is starkly fascinating, the evolutionary dissimilarity between how native Terrans and Senghavi Terrans cry.
Those ships were delivering medical aid and critical provisions to the passengers, Commander Lokprel barked, the neutrino signals that encoded his gruff voice coming out from the intercom. Why did you laser them?
"Stop playing games," Jake snapped wearily into his radio. I recalled that his full name was Jacob Weaver, as Commander Lokprel had mentioned. A drop of blood streaked down his face. "We know what you're up to."
Paranoia will get you nowhere, Jacob. If we don't work with each other, you won't survive. We have detected an explosion aboard the spaceliner. Is anyone dead?
"Not yet," Jake growled. "But Fenni Svim will be if your forces keep approaching!"
Fenni Svim—the Senghavi from the Vellir Veneti Physics Lab, against whose skull Jake had pressed his pistol to halt the CDF's initial approach, hours ago—stiffened in her seat. I had never known the nuclear researcher very well before this barbarous event, but I prayed to the Gods of Siedi (whom I do not really believe in) that she would be okay.
Many of the passengers were still being kept by the windows to deter snipers. They included Pavok, behind whom Khadija stood guard.
"Sorry for attacking you," Jake suddenly said to me, his voice worn-out. "It's like Khadija said. The bugs know that humans are strong when they're united. It's why they try to play us against ourselves, to ally with just some of us, to try to make us hate each other; to hate ourselves. It's how they tore the United States apart. Everything they do... It's to make us ashamed of our species, our own culture, to lose hope in the future. If we were united, Casimir... they'd be terrified of us. And make no mistake—we're uniting again."
"E-even if what you say about mankind is true," I croaked, "Our species would not have settled anywhere but Earth. Our culture and history would still have been negligible and primitive, the richness and complexity of the Senghavi, still greater by many orders of magnitude."
"Casimir, did you go to one of the Indigenous Residential Schools?" Khadija asked.
"Y-yes," I managed, dusting off my formal wear and cleaning my glasses. "I was sent to one as a child. They are for those of us savage natives which conventional education could not sufficiently civilise."
Khadija's eyes softened with compassion, and she gestured to my wrist. "I asked because of that code on your wrist. I've heard about some of the things that happen in those places. The cruelty; the abuse."
I glanced at the abstract identification code tattooed onto my skin, faded with time. I hadn't thought about it in ages; it was but a remnant of my childhood, and I never paid it any attention.
"Residential schooling is necessary and proper," I tell her. "It is similar to human-mantid apartheid in its purpose; it keeps the public safe from savagery. "
"If we get out of this alive, I'm gonna take you with me to Russia," she said, wiping sweat from her brow. "Specifically, Moscow. It's where I lived after the fall of Türkiye. Man controls it, not the Senghavi."
I was already aware that a vast, untamed region named Zvorriu-Sai, located in Earth's northeastern quarter-sphere, is called Russia in simple-speak. A decade ago, Nieve fe Skellth had tried to civilise the hunter-gatherers who lived there, but his troops starved and froze in the snow.
It was with the multitude of planetary habitat fabricators that his army had been using that the native primates of Zvorriu-Sai constructed such cities as Moscow or Saint Petersburg.
"Russian civilization goes back over a millennium," Khadija explained. "I don't give a fuck about what the Senghavi have built on this planet; Russian architecture is my favourite, hands down. Anyway, it's the most stable and self-sufficient of the ten countries we've got left. Hard to invade, you know? It's seen better days, but the cities are nice, the economy is good. I think you'll find it's a hell of a lot less 'savage' than whatever the fuck the Parimthian Empire is doing."
To corroborate her claims, she showed me a photo from the gallery of her cracked, dusty touchpad. Before a busy canal, the waters tinted orange by a rising sun, a more relaxed version of her smiled into the camera alongside some human of the phenotype I had seen in the video of Tokyo. Looming over them was an intricate, palatial structure topped with colourful, onion-shaped domes.
"How... quaint," I replied, unsure of what to say, though it ignited dry laughter in Khadija.
"Looks like we got a communiqué from the UN," another hijacker announced, his mask still covering his face. I couldn't place his accent at all. He held up his own touchpad, displaying photos of the Colonial Governor herself—Perellanth fe Sumur—flanked by armed UN military personnel. They were clad in urban camouflage that was marred with blood. The black, plant-like extraterrestrial gazed defeatedly in the sterile lighting.
The UN had captured her! The Crown's decision to appoint a Vire as the leader of a Senghavi colony had been no small event. I was certain that after all the talk of Senghavi Terran independence, then followed by the Colonial Governor's capture, His Imperial Majesty regretted his progressivist decision.
"We... We did it!" Jake exclaimed, his voice disbelieving. "We took down Perellanth!"
You achieved nothing, Commander Lokprel retorted over the intercom. Not beyond the promotion of Benghoviu fe Prim to Acting Colonial Governor. If you kill Governor Sumur, Governor Benghoviu will become the permanent Colonial Governor as per the chain of command, and he will carry on the fine work of his predecessor.
Jake seemed to consider that situation a fair one, and he nodded to himself subtly. "Okay, sure. But if you do nothing, we'll still kill our first hostage."
What I can promise you is that Delegate Essintsya fe Baryn will submit an Act to the Forum of Delegates to recognize the sovereignty of the UN. It will be deliberated over for months, but it is your only realistic option. In return, we demand that you allow the passengers injured by one of your explosives to board CDF medical ships.
I recalled that the Forum of Delegates had voted Benghoviu fe Prim as Vice Colonial Governor just a year ago. And before even that, the Senghavi who lived on Vennec—my home continent on Earth—had popularly elected the ever-prudent Essintsya fe Baryn to the Forum. She was quite the economic liberal, as her sort was called.
Delegate Baryn's statements on the social contract between a people and their government, as well as her rejection that the Parimthian Crown ruled by divine right, had resonated deeply with me.
Jake's eyes hardened, and he turned his radio back on. "I said no games!"
There are no games here, Jacob! We only aim to preserve as much sapient life as possible. And you are out of options.
The hijacker who had shown Colonial Governor Sumur's prison photo gave Jake a withering look. "We're dragging this on, man. I don't want anyone to die."
"Don't talk to me about death, Ramiro. Not after what happened in the US."
The so-called United States of America... called Gholo Vieda in Parimthian. That region was Nieve fe Skellth's last successful conquest before he attempted to take on the vast, snowy expanses of Zvorriu-Sai. I wondered if, like Khadija's experience in Türkiye in the Niethvahi region, Jake had witnessed firsthand the cultural assimilation and political integration of Gholo Vieda into the rest of Parimthian Earth.
The conquest of Gholo Vieda and Niethvahi were the great accomplishments of Perellanth's predecessor, of course; but, in my opinion, the devotion of the (now captured) Perellanth to the causes of liberty, reason, equality, and sapientism far outshadowed anything that Nieve had done. I am certain, however, that the Parimthian Crown disagrees.
In any case, my faith in CDF Commander Lokprel loth Fonvie had not risen. Perhaps that was a good thing; otherwise, I might have regretted betraying the knowledge of antimatter research in order to elicit a more competent Parimthian intervention.
More security forces took up positions around the spaceliner, each ship split sharply into sunlight and shadow amid the black of space. The hijacker called Ramiro pointed to a series of smaller craft, which seemed to be pulling away from the luxury spaceliner. Escape pods!
"Hostages are falling through our fingers," Ramiro said. "We need to do something."
"Go to the rear," Khadija ordered. "Stop anyone else from sneaking out!"
Jake's radio crackled with the voice of someone in the cockpit. We've intercepted a neutrino transmission from the new guy, Benghoviu fe Prim. He's calling for some kind of emergency council at the highest levels in the Parimthian Empire.
I scoffed internally. The Crown would intervene for the sake of investigating all this talk of antimatter, whose alluring utility had hitherto been confined to theory and fiction. But it was doubtful that His Imperial Majesty would agree to an emergency council for the sake of his colonists' security and well-being. As (relatively) progressivist as he was in policy, he was still very much a punitive emperor, not a rewarding one.
"I told the commander to stop advancing—dammit!" Jake spat. "We're only letting medical craft get any closer. Fire at the corvettes!"
Affirmative, his radio crackled. Targets in sight.
The spaceliner's anti-collision lasers flashed against several faraway spacecraft. A succession of oxygen-fueled fires, each lasting for a [~split-second] against the vacuum of space, flared in the distance. Even so, the growing array of naval craft began to close in upon us again, surrounding the spaceliner in every dimension.
Switching again to the neutrino-connected channel, Jake gave a disgusted scowl. "Are you deaf, Commander? If your people keep getting closer, the deal is off!"
The more you fire, the closer we will get, *Lokprel said. *We are just making sure it is safe for the medical craft. As long as you refrain from harming them, we will not hurt you.
The hijacker in the cockpit radioed to Jake again, her voice sounding more alarmed.
We're picking up a massive object on our scanners. It's headed our way.
"How massive are we talking?" Jake asked.
It's... some kind of warship, I think. Over a hundred times our size.
"You're joking, right?"
"A Parimthian spacecraft carrier," murmured a soft, whimpery voice.
It was Fenni Svim again, her praying raptorial forelimbs tucked close in fear.
"The Imperial Parimthian Navy?" I asked. "They're really here?"
"Y-you shouldn't act surprised," Fenni said. "I know you were speaking to someone on the P-Parimthian side. You leaked our greatest secret, Casimir."
"R-right."
"What's she talking about, dude?" Khadija asked. Suspicion of betrayal lingered in her dark eyes. She had believed the lie that I was only calling a loved one when I contacted Mensim, >! who is at present an agent of Parimth!<; she had trusted me, and defended me against Jake's wrath.
I didn't answer. The very reason we needed antimatter was that the colonists' outerspace spanned but a meagre few millionths of the Parimthian Empire's total volume. I did not know what exactly a spacecraft carrier one hundred times the size of our spaceliner could do for the hostages, but it would be far more competent than the comparatively flimsy Colonial Defence Force.
Finally, after so many years of strategic modesty in the administration of the Crown's distant colony, of his Earth, as His Imperial Majesty suffered expense upon expense in countering the Imperium of Orion... Parimth had sent a warship of the Imperial Parimthian Navy, here in full force!
There was no need to inquire as to its distance; I could see it through my window. It was far enough that I could view the whole of its great form. Senghavi architecture, of course, is usually round, white, and glassy, traced with glowing accents; however, the imperial warship was boxy and shadowy black, visible only by the silhouette that it carved into the beaming sun.
Already, dozens of smaller craft—operated by some of the finest Senghavi pilots in the Milky Way—began spilling out from the spacecraft carrier, moving in the shadow of their gargantuan mothership. As even the hostage passengers became aware of its presence, the muted chatter and whimpering, which had been ambient across the aisles of the spaceliner, finally ceased.
Because of me, all of us—colonists and savages alike—were, for the first time in a decade, going to face a military intervention by Parimth itself.

I have been trying for the last five years to reach extreme minimalism. The benefits have been widely discussed however few offer practical ways to achieve it. I decided to start a discussion on it, sharing ideas and to make it easy to follow we start from the opposite. Not from what we have but how we would start if we had absolutely nothing.
Imagine yourselves absolutely naked in the middle of nowhere, a barren landscape on neutral temperature. You can snap your fingers and instantly get/equip what you need. How would you start?
According to the hierarchy of needs, we humans need shelter water and food to cover our absolute immediate needs.
First snap of fingers we get a pair of underwear. At least a pair for now. Let's get to work. We need shelter. There are many options to choose from. Mobile home or conventional. And small enough to clean. For mobility we pick a small trailer truck which these things: a single mattress on a plank and on the other side of the trailer a shower booth with a toilet bowl next to it. Next to the mattress there is a small kitchen sink with 80 cm countertop. Below the countertop there is a minibar fridge and next to it a built-in air-fryer. Under the plank of the mattress there is a single long (1.8 m.) drawer which splits in 2 compartments. One side -the longer one- is our cloth capsule wardrobe which we filled with basic clothing: 2 short T-shirts, 2 long T-shirt (all plain - neutral color), 2 shirts 4 underwear, 4 socks (2 short - 2 long) 1 pair of sneakers, 1 pair of bluejeans, one chico pants and one jacket. The smaller compartment has utensils (2 sporks 2 plates 2 knives with teeth, 2 stainless steel mugs, one for you one for a potential guest) The trailer does not have laundry machine the clothes are so few they can be washed by hand and dry in the sun.
The paragraph above is our base. It keeps us safe, rested, fed and watered. (Under the sink there is a small filter so we can drink the water.) In case we need to travel outside of the country we put everything in a 20-30 liter backpack and we are ready. In case we don't want the mobile home at all and we can rent accommodation, just take the clothes on the backpack and ready to move.
On technology: Our smartphone is enough nowadays to pay almost for everything even contactless payments. Just in case, an extra debit card would do the trick to withdraw cash if required especially when travelling abroad. The phone can also keep notes so no need for pens and notebooks. Either a light 15'' inch laptop or an ipad with a wireless palm keyboard can cover longer sessions of work that require more comfort on screen size and typing. Phones have good cameras for photos, if this is an actual hobby perhaps a small high resolution camera could be added. One charger and a power bank must be included here. Either on phone or laptop/ipad we can have online access to any book or news we may want to read no need for bulky book carrying.
Documentation: ID, Passport, driver's license should be enough to go almost anywhere. Authorizations, tax paperwork, credentials such as degrees or certifications can be mostly stored and verified online (thank you camera scanner) however this differs from country to country and from institution to institution so check what can be equally valid online as is in paper.
Tools and pharmaceuticals: Considering we have little, no tools are required. If something breaks down we replace it. Pharmaceuticals, if required, must be enough to last until next pharmacy is in range and our online prescription should allow us to buy more. Just in case meds should be bought only when required.
And pretty much that's it. Some basic clothes and basic technology on a backpack is all we need to live and create space for experiences not revolving around stuff. As Plinius the Elder said: ''Romans love to spend so much on shiny colorful marbles, statues and paintings...However when a fire breaks out they weep, not only for the unique treasures they lost but for the fortunes they spent to buy them.'' This goes not only to the hoarders, maximalists and over-consumers but to these minimalists who spend on few but very expensive items. (I am looking at you, Burberry coat and latest Mac ''minimalist'') Frugal, extreme minimalism with easy to replace stuff is the answer to fully detach oneself from material possessions and live life without the materialistic stress.
Please feel free to add ideas or anything you think it is absolutely essential but missing from the list.
PS: Nobody starts with absolutely nothing how to reduce the existing material possessions? Depending on item use one of these steps in that order: Either Sell, Donate, Abandon (leave it outside of a trash bin on a plastic bag for someone to pick it up) Recycle, or throw it straight to the trash. Online search is enough to gauge the value of almost anything. (Marketplace, Craigslist, buy-sell social media groups etc or even find the price of your item as new from an online shop and sell it 30-50% cheaper)

ChatGPT helped me come up with this study plan to learn to host a one-shot Pathfinder game in two months. Here is the first month; the detail is too long for one post. Any suggestions on how to improve the study guide is appreciated.
Week 1:

• Day 1: Read Chapter 1 (Basics), Chapter 2 (Character Creation), and Chapter 3 (Playing the Game) of the Pathfinder Core Rulebook.
• Day 2: Read Chapter 4 (Skills), Chapter 5 (Feats), and Chapter 6 (Equipment) of the Pathfinder Core Rulebook.
• Day 3: Read Chapter 7 (Magic), Chapter 8 (Spells), and Chapter 9 (Adventuring) of the Pathfinder Core Rulebook.

Nightly Homework (Week 1):
Create a Sample Character:
For each night of Week 1, your homework will revolve around creating a sample character. This exercise will help you familiarize yourself with the character creation process and the various options available to players in Pathfinder 2nd Edition. Here's a breakdown of the nightly tasks:

• Night 1: Choose Ancestry and Heritage: Select an ancestry for your character, such as Human, Elf, or Dwarf. Explore the different heritage options available for that ancestry and choose one that resonates with your character concept. Take notes on any racial abilities or unique features.
• Night 2: Determine Ability Scores: Assign ability scores to your character's Strength, Dexterity, Constitution, Intelligence, Wisdom, and Charisma. Consider the role or concept you have in mind for your character and distribute the scores accordingly. Take note of any ability modifiers or adjustments based on your ancestry and heritage.
• Night 3: Choose a Background: Select a background for your character, which represents their upbringing, training, or past experiences. Consider the skills, ability boosts, and other benefits provided by the chosen background. Think about how it fits into your character's story and motivations.
• Night 4: Select a Class: Decide on a class for your character, such as Fighter, Wizard, or Rogue. Read through the class description, abilities, and initial proficiencies. Take note of the class features, skills, and proficiencies your character gains at 1st level.
• Night 5: Finalize Details: Complete any remaining character creation steps. Choose skills, determine hit points, select starting equipment, and make any additional choices or adjustments based on your chosen ancestry, background, and class. Ensure that all choices align with your character concept and the rules outlined in the chapters you've read.

By completing these nightly homework tasks, you'll have a fully fleshed-out sample character ready for your one-shot session. This exercise will give you a deeper understanding of character creation and the mechanics of Pathfinder 2nd Edition. It will also help you become familiar with the specific abilities and options available to players, enabling you to better guide your players when they create their own characters for the game.
Weekend Project (Week 1): Create a Sample Adventure Scene
Rather than focusing on a full encounter or puzzle, for this weekend project, you'll create a sample adventure scene based on the chapters you've read so far. This exercise will help you apply your knowledge of character creation, basic gameplay, and equipment. Here's how you can approach it:

1. Setting: Choose a location for your adventure scene. It could be a dense forest, a mysterious cave, or a bustling marketplace. Consider the atmosphere, potential challenges, and the overall theme or purpose of the scene.
2. Characters: Create a few non-player characters (NPCs) that the player character(s) may encounter in the scene. Give them names, appearances, and brief descriptions. Consider their roles, motivations, and how they can interact with the player character(s).
3. Goal or Objective: Determine the goal or objective of the adventure scene. It could be a simple task like delivering a message, solving a minor conflict, or gathering information from an NPC. Keep it focused and achievable within the scope of a one-shot session.
4. Challenges and Interactions: Plan potential challenges or interactions that the player character(s) may face in the scene. These can be skill-based encounters, social interactions, or small combat situations. Ensure that the challenges align with the rules you've learned so far, such as skills, feats, or basic combat mechanics.
5. Rewards or Consequences: Consider the potential rewards or consequences for the player character(s) based on their actions or choices in the scene. These can include valuable information, new equipment, or minor impacts on the overall story. Ensure that the rewards or consequences are meaningful and have a direct impact on the narrative or gameplay.

By creating a sample adventure scene, you'll get a hands-on experience in applying the rules and concepts you've learned. It will also give you a chance to practice designing encounters, creating NPCs, and guiding the player's choices within a focused setting. Remember to keep it manageable within the time constraints of a one-shot session.
Week 2:

• Day 4: Read Chapter 10 (Playing the Game), Chapter 11 (Magic Items), and Chapter 12 (Gamemastering) of the Pathfinder Core Rulebook.
• Day 5: Read Chapter 13 (Game Mastering Basics) and Chapter 14 (Running Encounters) of the Gamemastery Guide.
• Day 6: Read Chapter 15 (Adventuring) and Chapter 16 (Building Encounters) of the Gamemastery Guide.

Nightly Homework (Week 2):
Create a Brief Outline for Your One-Shot Session:
During Week 2, your homework will revolve around creating a brief outline for your one-shot session. This exercise will help you structure the narrative, plan key encounters, and consider important NPCs and their motivations. Here's a breakdown of the nightly tasks:

• Night 4: Define the Central Conflict: Determine the central conflict or problem that the player characters will face in your one-shot session. It could be a rescue mission, a heist, or a mystery to solve. Outline the main objective and consider potential twists or complications that can arise.
• Night 5: Plan Key Encounters: Identify the key encounters or challenges that the player characters will face throughout the session. These can include combat encounters, social interactions, skill-based challenges, or puzzles. Determine the purpose and difficulty of each encounter and how they contribute to the overall story.
• Night 6: Develop Important NPCs: Create a list of important non-player characters (NPCs) that the players will encounter during the session. Give each NPC a name, appearance, and a brief description of their role in the story. Consider their motivations, relationships with other NPCs, and how they can interact with the player characters.
• Night 7: Outline the Narrative Flow: Develop a general outline of the narrative flow of the session. Consider the pacing, the order of encounters and events, and any branching paths or choices that the players can make. Outline the beginning, middle, and end of the session, ensuring a clear progression and resolution.
• Night 8: Refine and Revise: Review and refine the outline you have created so far. Make any necessary adjustments, add more details or subplots, and ensure a cohesive and engaging structure for the session. Consider the balance between different types of encounters and opportunities for player agency and decision-making.

By completing these nightly homework tasks, you'll have a solid outline for your one-shot session. This exercise will help you structure the session's narrative and encounters, ensuring an engaging and coherent gameplay experience. It will also provide you with a framework to guide your players through the session and keep the game flowing smoothly.
Weekend Project (Week 2): Create a Detailed Map for Your One-Shot Session
For this weekend project, you'll create a detailed map for the locations where your one-shot session takes place. Having a well-designed map helps both you and the players visualize the environment, navigate the areas, and adds immersion to the game. Follow these steps to create your map:

1. Determine Key Locations: Identify the important locations in your one-shot session, such as a town, dungeon, or wilderness area. Consider the purpose and significance of each location within the narrative.
2. Sketch the Layout: Begin by sketching a rough layout of each location. It doesn't have to be artistically perfect, but it should provide a general sense of the area's layout, including key features, landmarks, and points of interest.
3. Add Details: Add details to your sketch, including specific rooms, structures, or natural features. Consider the purpose and function of each area within the location. Incorporate any elements that may affect gameplay, such as obstacles, traps, or hidden passages.
4. Label and Annotate: Label the various areas and features on your map to provide clarity. Use descriptive names for key locations, and annotate important details or notes that will assist you during the game. This can include NPC locations, potential encounters, or any relevant information for the players.
5. Finalize the Map: Once you're satisfied with the sketch and details, transfer it to a clean or digital format. You can use map-making software or online tools to create a more polished version of your map. Consider adding color, shading, or symbols to enhance readability and aesthetics.
6. Optional: Create Player Handouts: If desired, consider creating separate maps or handouts for the players to use during the game. These can be smaller sections of the main map or specialized maps for specific encounters or challenges.

By creating a detailed map, you'll have a visual representation of the locations in your one-shot session. This will aid in describing the environment to the players, planning encounters, and ensuring consistency in your storytelling. It will also serve as a valuable reference during the game, helping you navigate the world and keep track of important details.
Week 3:

• Day 7: Read Chapter 17 (Creating NPCs) and Chapter 18 (Building Worlds) of the Gamemastery Guide.
• Day 8: Read Chapter 19 (Rewards) and Chapter 20 (Designing Adventures) of the Gamemastery Guide.
• Day 9: Read Chapter 21 (Campaigns) and Chapter 22 (Running Published Adventures) of the Gamemastery Guide.

Nightly Homework (Week 3):
Create Compelling Non-Player Characters (NPCs):
During Week 3, your nightly homework will revolve around creating memorable and engaging NPCs that the players will encounter in your one-shot session. NPCs can bring life to the game world, provide quests or information, and offer opportunities for interaction. Here's a breakdown of the nightly tasks:

• Night 9: Determine Key NPCs: Identify the key NPCs that the players are likely to interact with during the session. These can include allies, villains, quest givers, or important individuals within the setting. Consider their roles in the story and their motivations.
• Night 10: Develop Personalities and Backgrounds: For each key NPC, develop their personalities and backgrounds. Think about their quirks, values, and attitudes. Consider their past experiences, goals, and any secrets or conflicts they may have.
• Night 11: Establish Relationships: Determine the relationships between the NPCs. Consider their alliances, rivalries, friendships, or conflicts. This will add depth and complexity to the interactions between NPCs and the players.
• Night 12: Outline Dialogue and Interactions: Outline the potential dialogue and interactions the players may have with the NPCs. Consider their mannerisms, speech patterns, and any unique traits. Prepare important information or clues the NPCs may provide.
• Night 13: Create Backstory Hooks: Identify opportunities to connect the NPCs to the players' backstories or personal goals. This can create personal investment and intrigue for the players. Consider how the NPCs can provide assistance, challenges, or opportunities related to the players' backgrounds.

By completing these nightly homework tasks, you'll have a roster of well-developed NPCs that can enrich your one-shot session. These NPCs will have distinct personalities, backgrounds, and motivations, making them more engaging for the players to interact with. They can provide quests, information, or become recurring allies or adversaries, adding depth to the game world and enhancing the overall storytelling experience.
Weekend Project (Week 3): Design a Dynamic Encounter
For this weekend project, you'll design a dynamic encounter that offers an engaging and challenging experience for the players in your one-shot session. A dynamic encounter includes multiple elements, such as combat, environmental factors, and strategic choices. Follow these steps to create your encounter:

1. Determine the Objective: Decide on the objective or goal of the encounter. It could be defeating a group of enemies, solving a puzzle, or navigating a treacherous environment. Consider how the encounter fits into the overall narrative and what the players can gain or lose based on their success or failure.
2. Establish the Environment: Choose a specific setting or location for the encounter. Consider how the environment can impact the encounter. Are there hazards, obstacles, or unique features that the players can interact with strategically? Ensure that the environment adds depth and provides opportunities for creative problem-solving.
3. Populate the Encounter: Determine the opponents or creatures the players will face during the encounter. Consider their strengths, weaknesses, and unique abilities. Ensure that the difficulty level aligns with the capabilities of the player characters and the overall challenge you want to present.
4. Include Dynamic Elements: Introduce dynamic elements to make the encounter more engaging and exciting. This can include timed events, changing environmental conditions, or unexpected reinforcements. Think about how these elements can affect the flow and strategy of the encounter.
5. Design Tactical Options: Provide the players with tactical options and choices during the encounter. Consider different approaches or paths they can take to achieve the objective. Include interactive elements, such as objects they can interact with or strategic positions they can utilize.
6. Test and Refine: Playtest the encounter to ensure it offers a balanced and enjoyable experience. Make adjustments as needed based on the feedback and observations from the playtest. Pay attention to the pacing, difficulty, and player engagement throughout the encounter.

By designing a dynamic encounter, you'll provide the players with a memorable and immersive experience. This encounter will challenge their abilities, promote strategic thinking, and encourage teamwork. It will also showcase your creativity as a Game Master and provide an exciting highlight within your one-shot session.
Week 4:

• Day 10: Review the chapters you find most challenging or want to deepen your understanding of. Take notes on specific rules or concepts you want to clarify.
• Day 11: Review the combat rules, including actions, conditions, and spells commonly used in combat encounters.
• Day 12: Review the skills and abilities of your sample character. Familiarize yourself with their options and think about their role in the one-shot session.

Nightly Homework (Week 4):
Create Engaging Puzzles and Challenges:
During Week 4, your nightly homework will revolve around designing puzzles and challenges that will engage and challenge the players in your one-shot session. These elements can add variety and intrigue to the gameplay, providing opportunities for problem-solving and critical thinking. Here's a breakdown of the nightly tasks:

• Night 14: Determine the Purpose: Identify the purpose or objective of the puzzles and challenges. Consider how they contribute to the overall narrative or the specific location where they are encountered. Determine what the players need to accomplish or discover to overcome these obstacles.
• Night 15: Design Puzzle Mechanics: Determine the mechanics of the puzzles and challenges. Think about the rules, actions, or steps the players need to take to solve them. Consider logical connections, patterns, or clues that can lead to the solution. Ensure that the puzzles are challenging but solvable with proper deduction and exploration.
• Night 16: Create Visual Aids: If applicable, create visual aids or props to accompany the puzzles or challenges. This can include maps, diagrams, riddles written on parchment, or physical objects that represent elements of the puzzle. Visual aids can enhance immersion and provide additional clues or hints.
• Night 17: Balance Difficulty: Evaluate the difficulty level of the puzzles and challenges. Ensure they are appropriately challenging for the player characters' abilities and the overall session's difficulty. Adjust the complexity or clues provided, if necessary, to maintain engagement without causing frustration.
• Night 18: Prepare Alternative Solutions: Consider alternative solutions or paths to overcome the puzzles and challenges. Allow for creative thinking and improvisation from the players. Think about potential rewards or consequences for different approaches, encouraging exploration and experimentation.

By completing these nightly homework tasks, you'll have a collection of engaging puzzles and challenges ready to be integrated into your one-shot session. These elements will provide moments of mental stimulation and interaction for the players, fostering problem-solving skills and encouraging teamwork. They will add depth and variety to the gameplay, making the session more memorable and enjoyable for everyone involved.
Weekend Project (Week 4): Design a Unique Setting
For this weekend project, you'll design a unique and immersive setting that serves as a backdrop for your one-shot session. The setting should be intriguing, visually appealing, and offer opportunities for exploration and interaction. Follow these steps to create your setting:

1. Determine the Theme: Decide on the theme or concept for your setting. It could be a haunted mansion, a mystical forest, a bustling city, or any other theme that fits your session's narrative. Consider the atmosphere, mood, and overall ambiance you want to convey.
2. Establish Key Locations: Identify the key locations within the setting. These could be landmarks, important buildings, or distinct areas that the players will encounter during the session. Consider their relevance to the story and the unique features or elements that make them stand out.
3. Develop the Environment: Describe the physical environment of your setting in detail. Consider the geography, climate, flora, and fauna. Think about how these elements impact the atmosphere and affect the characters' interactions within the setting.
4. Populate the Setting: Populate the setting with NPCs, creatures, or other inhabitants. Determine their roles, motivations, and relationships within the setting. Consider how they interact with the players and how their presence enhances the overall atmosphere and narrative.
5. Create Points of Interest: Create points of interest within the setting that provide opportunities for exploration, interaction, or discovery. These could be hidden treasures, ancient ruins, mysterious artifacts, or intriguing NPCs. Consider how these points of interest can engage the players and contribute to the session's narrative.
6. Incorporate Lore and History: Develop the lore and history of the setting. Consider its backstory, legends, and notable events that have shaped the current state of affairs. This will add depth and richness to the setting, providing a sense of history and intrigue for the players.
7. Visualize the Setting: Use visual aids, such as maps or artwork, to bring the setting to life. Create a visual representation of the key locations and important elements within the setting. This will help the players visualize the environment and immerse themselves in the game world.

By designing a unique and immersive setting, you'll provide a captivating backdrop for your one-shot session. The setting will contribute to the overall atmosphere and enhance the players' engagement and immersion. It will offer opportunities for exploration, interaction, and storytelling, making the session more memorable and enjoyable for everyone involved.

This sounds harsh but I noticed quite a lot of MrBeast fans are... Annoying. I get the community is quite young but it's so toxic tbh, there are 4 main groups that make up 70% of fans sadly:

1. Oversensitive fans who hate on literally any meme (about the horrendous thumbnails that definitely deserve to be memed lmao).
2. Doomsday prophets who see Jimmy's downfall when one video only makes a billion instead of a trillion views (even though his videos usually gain more views over a long time period anyways and the first few days only play a partial role).
3. Transphobes. Won't say much about this cuz yeah, kinda self explanatory.
4. People that believe any news/joke about him is to be taken serious. He is basically apolitical and has proven often enough he doesn't do heinous things, it's annoying that people fall for any clickbait video.

This was my brief rant, I feel like it should be said because as fans it's our job not to be a burden on Jimmy's mental health and not act like monkeys. It would be nice if we kept being a wholesome community.

Previous
Writer's note: Remember. Sometimes it's the thought that counts. Even if it's too little too late.
What am I referencing when I say that? As if I'm gonna tell you that before you read it in a chapter or two.
Enjoy.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
CLOSE IT! Vickers thought as he struggled to maintain his grip. The new, animal, side of his brain told him NOT to hold on. But he had to. CLOSE IT!!!!
He couldn't see. Everything in front of him was fire. He wasn't even sure he still had eyelids. Magic flowed through him like the flood from a broken dam. His armor struggled to even exist, despite his constant struggle to keep it manifested.
It's an elemental. He thought. It's like the one that destroyed the capital. And they unleashed it in a small room that's probably underground. This was them setting off a nuke to deny us a win.
And I'm at ground zero. God... Choi really does rub off on people doesn't he?
Someone stepped in behind him, but with the fire flowing around him Vickers wasn't conscious of it. Even as a large hand pressed into the small of his back and braced him, pushing him forward ever so slightly. The persons other arm nestled underneath his left armpit and held a hand out. Whoever it was, the hand was old and had gnarled fingers.
Then they spoke into his ear, whatever was left of it now. The voice was louder than a human voice should have been. It had to be in order to be heard over the roar of the flames. He did hear it, and recognized it, even despite the all encompassing pain that dominated every other facet of his existence.
"USE IT AGAINST ITSELF!" The voice said. "REDIRECT THE ENERGY INTO YOURSELF! THEN SEND IT BACK!"
Vickers couldn't do that. He couldn't even acknowledge it. He had more important things to do.
He had to close the door.
Then he felt the heat lessen. He didn't know how or why. He wasn't enough of a person right now to even care.
But he knew what he could do with that small act of mercy.
Vickers arms flexed. Muscles that could lift well over two tons now strained and tore as he pulled at the enchanted wood of the door frame. Things snapped and cracked and creaked and he not only didn't know if it was the wood or his own bones and tendons.
He didn't care.
CLOSE THE DOOR! He screamed at himself in his own mind.
And the crackling noises intensified even as they were drown out by the roar of the flames.
----------------------------------
James was about half a second away from intercepting a golem as it attacked a group of soldiers when the monster simply collapsed.
James skidded to a halt. The soldiers all stumbled and froze in shock at the sudden end of their struggle. Then they looked at him in surprise.
"Uh." He said as he shook off his feet, which were hot..... and bare. "Did it just.... die?" He asked.
One of the soldiers poked at it with a sword even as its golem flesh sloughed off of it.
"I think so." He said. Then he looked up at James and realized he wasn't talking to a fellow Petravian.
Then the sky grew light in the distance, as if a sun had risen.
"What the hell is tha....." James began. Then the magical energy washed over him and he knew.
He didn't stick around to discuss it. Before the soldiers knew what had happened he was already gone. Moving toward the light.
The soldiers all jumped a moment later as the wall of one of the nearby buildings exploded outward and a creature came barreling out of the wreckage.
"Another one!" One of them yelled as they all readied their weapons.
"Glag?" The creature said curiously. The soldiers all paused and looked at each other.
"They can talk?" One of them asked. None of the golems they'd fought this night had done more than occasionally roar.
Then the creature, seemingly made of stone, inspected the fallen golem. As it did it seemed completely oblivious of the soldiers around it with their weapons pointed at it.
Then it looked up into the air.
"Glaaaaaaag." It said, and they got a sense that it was annoyed, or perhaps upset. Then it began rolling away in a ball. It crashed through another building as if it was made of paper.
"What just happened?" The soldier who'd poked at the golem asked.
-----------------------------------
"Ma'am!" A soldier exclaimed as they ran into the command room. Amina looked up from the hastily drawn map that she'd been studying. "There's another elemental!"
The room froze as everyone heard the announcement.
"What?" Amina asked plainly. "What did you just say?"
The young officer swallowed as they noticed everyone around looking at them. "Chief Vickers." They began. "He managed to reach the Agency's infiltration point. But they summoned an elemental on the other side of the door."
"How do you know this?" She asked. But even as she said it she noticed how bright it was outside of the command room, which had no windows.
"The two new were-folk that are part of his team." The officer replied as they marched around the room towards her with one of the Earth tablets. "They saw it on their.... goggles?" He said uncertainly. Then he handed the tablet to her and she saw Colonel Muhammed's face. "The Earth command compared what the Chief saw before they lost connection to what was described with the previous elemental." He nodded. "They believe its the same thing."
"We don't have any previous footage of that one unfortunately." The Colonel said on the tablet. "I have to admit that I'm surprised you're back General. We had expected your trip to last a few months longer."
"We can discuss that later." Amina replied. "Tell me what you know. Can I see the footage? Also, Vickers has were-folk on his TEAM... now?" She asked curiously. She had seen reports indicating as such. But they had been tangential to the information she had needed, namely troop and enemy locations, as well as casualties and supplies. Plus there was still the matter of securing the very castle they were in.
"I think THAT can also be discussed later." The Colonel answered. "For now just know that Chief Vickers went toe to... well not toe. This massive... thing doesn't seem to have actual limbs so to speak. But he waded in with the thing." As she said this Amina saw a little window pop up showing a video that was playing in slow motion. "It is kind of hard to see. The chiefs abilities frosted up his glasses pretty badly."
"Show me the elemental." Amina said.
Muhammed nodded, then after a bit of tinkering on her side the window changed and showed a room with a group of people in it, their eyes glowing the same red as those of the golems outside.
"We only have a few frames." The Colonel informed her, and as the film moved through those frames.
Amina saw a red light appear on some piece of furniture behind the group of supposed golemancers. The people turned to look at it in surprise and seemed to say something. Then the screen flared with bright light before cutting off.
"That's where we lost the chief's connection." Muhammed said solemnly. "But the thermal on his glasses read temperatures at close to a thousand degrees."
Amina scrolled through the few frames. Watching as the small red light expanded into a bright bloom of light. Then she looked out the still open door at what appeared to be daytime, despite it being nearly an hour until dawn.
"I've also been told we have another matter to discuss." The Colonel said, breaking her out of her thoughts.
As if on cue a pair of Earth military personnel, one of whom she recognized as their disgraced First Sergeant, and Ambassador Werner stepped into the doorway.
Amina's sword arm twitch subconsciously as she saw that one of the soldiers was carrying one of the Earth firearms.
Then the Colonel spoke. "For the record I didn't authorize this." She said with a sigh. "But some of our people got caught in the action down in the dungeon. And Mister Batista took it upon himself to arm himself."
"This is in violation of my father's current agreement with your people." Amina said harshly.
"I know. And when the dust has settled we'll gladly even up." Werner replied in place of the Colonel. "But until then. Bullets work on these things pretty damn well. And my people want to help. AAAAND earn back a bit of good faith in the process."
Amina began moving over to the small group rapidly, and several of the guards in the room began unsnapping their weapons.

First Previous
I rouse from my slumber as piercing rays of light shine across my metallic face. Rising to a sitting position I find myself still surrounded by my drones who remain ever vigilant. Now fully aware of my surroundings I opened the door to the room that I had stayed the night in and began moving down the road with my scorpions following close behind.
———
Arriving at the Outpost around noon I find that the drones that I had sent ahead of me have already arrived and have been helping out around the compound. The hornets have joined the veterans from the previous battles and have chosen their sniper positions. The two squads of new hounds have decided to split apart and are currently patrolling the area while the two remaining battle tested hounds acted as the alphas of their respective squads.
Letting my scorpions loose into the swarm I make my way over to my group of spiders, not including the ones deployed here from the transport moose. Opening up the build menu I order them to start making this outpost a more functioning forward operating base by constructing some basic drone production. As they begin scurrying around gathering materials for the project I start gathering up the current garrison to form up in front of me.
It takes a few minutes but they all eventually get to their positions. Looking upon the strike group I count two squads of six hounds each, a sniper team of five hornets, a triplet of scorpions, a few scout groups of rats, and a support team of three mooses and the spiders who are riding on them. Satisfied with the amount of drones at my disposal I opened up my territorial map.
My eyes drift around the map before landing on another of MAI's Outposts which is due north and about a day's worth of travel from my current position. My scouts have only done a few brief sweeps of the area due to its distant nature but from what they have seen, the Outpost is under defended which means it should be easy pickings. The outpost, from what my scouts could see, is located inside of a series of warehouses surrounded by a large fence. Oddly enough there was an abnormally large amount of holes around the fence which completely negates the effectiveness of it.
Anyways after this outpost is taken there would only be one more and the MAI's main base which are quite close to each other. Likely because of the proximity of the last outpost and the main base, from what my scouts have been able to glean, the outpost is heavily defended with a multitude of hornets, crabs, and scorpions. I don't think I can handle that quite yet.
Taking down my map projection I start making my way over to the far off outpost with my small army of drones following close behind.
———
My drones and I have been marching for about 6 hours and dusk is soon to hit. The remaining sunlight is able to light up the path enough to where I have a slight difficulty seeing in any of the shaded areas but it was manageable. As we continue moving, I notice that the buildings around me slowly start to change from being a mix of residential and commercial buildings into most of the buildings being under construction with scaffolding scattered all around.
I idly ponder on what these buildings were going to be made into before I start feeling a light rumble. Looking around for the source, I only find more unfinished buildings and stacks of more scaffolding. The rubbing slowly becomes louder and louder before it sounds like it is right on top of me and my drones.
Wait! On top!
"Everyone scatter." I yell out urgently to my drones while running over to some nearby buildings. Many of my drones are able to get a decent distance away from each other but for some it was not enough as three something shoots out from the ground and two of them manage to slam right onto some of my hounds. The sounds of drills digging through the lowly armored sides of my hounds fills the area.
My hornets were the first to react as they fired their armaments which managed to graze the front most ambushing drones and piercing another in the chest. My scorpions also charge up and fire on the enemy with three bright blue beams, stunning the two drones in the back. Last of the group to respond to the sudden attack, my hounds rush to their injured comrades and all rush towards the immobilized enemy.
As all my drones are doing this, I move forward to some cover near the enemy so I may get a better look, which I do get. The drones had sleek bodies and a spiral drill which encompassed most of their face. On their arms were two curved plates that looked like old medieval shields that were split in half. Also their legs were little stumps that were barely two inches tall which would have made them kind of cute if they were not trying to kill us. Hmm. They kind of remind me of moles if they decided their face was the best of their limbs for digging. As I observe the new drones, my hounds have closed the distance and the enemy mole drone uses its large shield legs as a barrier in front of itself.
My hounds, upon reaching the mole, form into a semi circle and start to move in to encompass the drone. The mole, realizing that it is alone, attempts to break out of the closing in line of hounds by charging straight into the left end of the formation. It moves with surprising speed, using its frontal claws to help volt the mole above the hounds that were about to champ down on its neck. As the mole lands it twists around and grabs onto one of the hounds with its claws and uses its drill to dig deep into the poor drone's cranium. As my hound falls limp in the moles claws, the rest of my hounds pounce on the offending mole and begin ripping it to ribbons.
While they do that my hornets have rearmed and now that the other moles are still stunned they fire on them. This time all of their spikes land their mark and hit the moles all over. One of the moles immediately falls over, dead, but the other mole regains its control and revs up its drill face and starts to burrow into the ground. One squad of hounds, realizing that it is trying to escape, breaks off from the main group and grabs onto the exposed legs of the mole and, with the help of one of the scorpion's claws, pulls it out of its escape hole and they start to ravage the mole.
I walk out from where I was hiding, as well as my spiders who immediately begin repairs on the injured, towards the impaled corpse of one of the moles and pop up the description description.
"The Deep Magma Tunneler or the DMT is a mining drone meant to dig to the deepest part of the mines where most other drones cannot reach due to the cramped spaces and excessive heat. Thus they are smaller than most driller drones and are decently heat resistant. They also are equipped with portable shields to help with protecting the less armored areas of the chassis from collapsing tunnel debris or other such hazards. Can be constructed at a Medium Drone Works."
"Nice, now I have something to mine out the ores in the outpost."
As I close the description I find that my hound drones are finished with enacting their vengeance and my spiders would need a bit of time before they could finish patching up the injured. I set my hornets to begin flying around to ensure no one sneaks in and ambushes my drones again. Ordering my ground based drones to protect me, I hop out of my vessel and start the usual check ups on the home base and the outpost.
As I look around I notice that my territory is woefully under defended when I leave. Seeing as I don't have anything else to do, I decided that tonight I would change that.
Next

I’m 35+ years old and I’m curious about what I’ve been coping with all these years. Now my child may have ASD. (As do a couple of my siblings). I’m questioning my past. Here it goes.
Can you relate to anything?
1) covered my eyes as a child around people I didn’t know and was overly shy. Even as a teenager, I’d sit in the corners when seeing friends. Often peers noticing and thinking I’m weird.
2)very creative and still am.
3)Bed wetting until 9 years. (No recognition of it during my sleep).
4) very quiet socially even though I’m the life of the party at home.
5) Always struggle in groups of two+. Get physical pain when in social settings. Panic attacks etc. (more easier now - but very uncomfortable and feel painful trying to cope. Plus, I used to jump at tv adverts, traffic lights etc.
6) documentaries and knowledge is my world. Dislike cartoon and unrealistic things, comedy’s. Love education and can repeat the same courses/training again and again, even on the same day. I’ve trained at work, then I’ll go home and do the same training all over again.
7) accident prone.
8) hate dust near food and drink. Have to have clean surfaces. No one can use my cups or cutlery. I don’t like sharing my things. I get stressed if I miss things like a parcel and become anxious to where it is, what might Happen to it etc. can’t rest until I receive it.
9) extreme planning. For example driving lessons. I HAD to Google earth before each lesson to see everything and get familiar with it, before I could do it on my lesson.
10) known for spitting food. If it doesn’t taste the same, I can’t eat it. If it doesn’t look the same, I can’t eat it. And I notice the small details no one else does with food. So often I don’t eat a part of many meals. Where others I eat with don’t observe what they eat and would never notice.
11) I can appear rude when I’m trying to just be honest. I don’t like to lie. I am considerate of others, but I tend to steer towards honesty
12) very paranoid of things that appear out of sorts. If I receive something unexpected, I’ll wonder why I have received it. I don’t like leaving my water bottle around, incase something happens to it.
13) morning routine has to be in its order and other sequences in order, otherwise I blow!
14) I’m very conscious during eye contact. I prepare it, time it (to make it a look natural to others). Then worry about how it looked after. All in all, it’s effort and unnatural. (Sometimes it can be natural but mostly not if I’m not home - at home - I get away with doing it how I want to).
15) creating the same type of scenario day dreams at night, before sleeping. Often negative ones, yet to me they are soothing as I’ve done them for so many years.
All in all. Right now. Daily, my morning routine affects not only me, but those who I live with. Everything has to be in order and mainly my unique ways.
Eye contact is effort. Seeing family, can be effort and feels performed and not natural. I do work and that’s ok. But I have found, who ever I’m with, acts like, I act odd. It’s so hard to explain. But, everyone gives me the same look. Even people at the shops. It’s a taken back look and a pause. Yeah, somethings off I feel it. People often don’t know what I mean, so I have to explain things better for them. Sometimes, I start talking before someone’s finished their sentence. So that’s awkward.
Then, I have so many rules and everyone who hangs with me, notices them. Especially when it comes to food, germs and my possessions. I’m just a complete ocd and anxious person, or there is more to this. Because I haven’t met anyone like me and I’m wondering why.
I’m not looking for a diagnosis of course :)
But im looking to know what direction to lean towards, as I feel like somethings deeper about me. So I’m narrowing things down. With ASD high in my family. I thought I’d ask about here for any similarities.

Previous / First
Writer's note: Remember. Sometimes it's the thought that counts. Even if it's too little too late.
What am I referencing when I say that? As if I'm gonna tell you that before you read it in a chapter or two.
Enjoy.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
CLOSE IT! Vickers thought as he struggled to maintain his grip. The new, animal, side of his brain told him NOT to hold on. But he had to. CLOSE IT!!!!
He couldn't see. Everything in front of him was fire. He wasn't even sure he still had eyelids. Magic flowed through him like the flood from a broken dam. His armor struggled to even exist, despite his constant struggle to keep it manifested.
It's an elemental. He thought. It's like the one that destroyed the capital. And they unleashed it in a small room that's probably underground. This was them setting off a nuke to deny us a win.
And I'm at ground zero. God... Choi really does rub off on people doesn't he?
Someone stepped in behind him, but with the fire flowing around him Vickers wasn't conscious of it. Even as a large hand pressed into the small of his back and braced him, pushing him forward ever so slightly. The persons other arm nestled underneath his left armpit and held a hand out. Whoever it was, the hand was old and had gnarled fingers.
Then they spoke into his ear, whatever was left of it now. The voice was louder than a human voice should have been. It had to be in order to be heard over the roar of the flames. He did hear it, and recognized it, even despite the all encompassing pain that dominated every other facet of his existence.
"USE IT AGAINST ITSELF!" The voice said. "REDIRECT THE ENERGY INTO YOURSELF! THEN SEND IT BACK!"
Vickers couldn't do that. He couldn't even acknowledge it. He had more important things to do.
He had to close the door.
Then he felt the heat lessen. He didn't know how or why. He wasn't enough of a person right now to even care.
But he knew what he could do with that small act of mercy.
Vickers arms flexed. Muscles that could lift well over two tons now strained and tore as he pulled at the enchanted wood of the door frame. Things snapped and cracked and creaked and he not only didn't know if it was the wood or his own bones and tendons.
He didn't care.
CLOSE THE DOOR! He screamed at himself in his own mind.
And the crackling noises intensified even as they were drown out by the roar of the flames.
----------------------------------
James was about half a second away from intercepting a golem as it attacked a group of soldiers when the monster simply collapsed.
James skidded to a halt. The soldiers all stumbled and froze in shock at the sudden end of their struggle. Then they looked at him in surprise.
"Uh." He said as he shook off his feet, which were hot..... and bare. "Did it just.... die?" He asked.
One of the soldiers poked at it with a sword even as its golem flesh sloughed off of it.
"I think so." He said. Then he looked up at James and realized he wasn't talking to a fellow Petravian.
Then the sky grew light in the distance, as if a sun had risen.
"What the hell is tha....." James began. Then the magical energy washed over him and he knew.
He didn't stick around to discuss it. Before the soldiers knew what had happened he was already gone. Moving toward the light.
The soldiers all jumped a moment later as the wall of one of the nearby buildings exploded outward and a creature came barreling out of the wreckage.
"Another one!" One of them yelled as they all readied their weapons.
"Glag?" The creature said curiously. The soldiers all paused and looked at each other.
"They can talk?" One of them asked. None of the golems they'd fought this night had done more than occasionally roar.
Then the creature, seemingly made of stone, inspected the fallen golem. As it did it seemed completely oblivious of the soldiers around it with their weapons pointed at it.
Then it looked up into the air.
"Glaaaaaaag." It said, and they got a sense that it was annoyed, or perhaps upset. Then it began rolling away in a ball. It crashed through another building as if it was made of paper.
"What just happened?" The soldier who'd poked at the golem asked.
-----------------------------------
"Ma'am!" A soldier exclaimed as they ran into the command room. Amina looked up from the hastily drawn map that she'd been studying. "There's another elemental!"
The room froze as everyone heard the announcement.
"What?" Amina asked plainly. "What did you just say?"
The young officer swallowed as they noticed everyone around looking at them. "Chief Vickers." They began. "He managed to reach the Agency's infiltration point. But they summoned an elemental on the other side of the door."
"How do you know this?" She asked. But even as she said it she noticed how bright it was outside of the command room, which had no windows.
"The two new were-folk that are part of his team." The officer replied as they marched around the room towards her with one of the Earth tablets. "They saw it on their.... goggles?" He said uncertainly. Then he handed the tablet to her and she saw Colonel Muhammed's face. "The Earth command compared what the Chief saw before they lost connection to what was described with the previous elemental." He nodded. "They believe its the same thing."
"We don't have any previous footage of that one unfortunately." The Colonel said on the tablet. "I have to admit that I'm surprised you're back General. We had expected your trip to last a few months longer."
"We can discuss that later." Amina replied. "Tell me what you know. Can I see the footage? Also, Vickers has were-folk on his TEAM... now?" She asked curiously. She had seen reports indicating as such. But they had been tangential to the information she had needed, namely troop and enemy locations, as well as casualties and supplies. Plus there was still the matter of securing the very castle they were in.
"I think THAT can also be discussed later." The Colonel answered. "For now just know that Chief Vickers went toe to... well not toe. This massive... thing doesn't seem to have actual limbs so to speak. But he waded in with the thing." As she said this Amina saw a little window pop up showing a video that was playing in slow motion. "It is kind of hard to see. The chiefs abilities frosted up his glasses pretty badly."
"Show me the elemental." Amina said.
Muhammed nodded, then after a bit of tinkering on her side the window changed and showed a room with a group of people in it, their eyes glowing the same red as those of the golems outside.
"We only have a few frames." The Colonel informed her, as the film moved through those frames.
Amina saw a red light appear on some piece of furniture behind the group of supposed golemancers. The people turned to look at it in surprise and seemed to say something. Then the screen flared with bright light before cutting off.
"That's where we lost the chief's connection." Muhammed said solemnly. "But the thermal on his glasses read temperatures at close to a thousand degrees."
Amina scrolled through the few frames. Watching as the small red light expanded into a bright bloom of light. Then she looked out the still open door at what appeared to be daytime, despite it being nearly an hour until dawn.
"I've also been told we have another matter to discuss." The Colonel said, breaking her out of her thoughts.
As if on cue a pair of Earth military personnel, one of whom she recognized as their disgraced First Sergeant, and Ambassador Werner stepped into the doorway.
Amina's sword arm twitched subconsciously as she saw that one of the soldiers was carrying one of the Earth firearms.
Then the Colonel spoke. "For the record I didn't authorize this." She said with a sigh. "But some of our people got caught in the action down in the dungeon. And Mister Batista took it upon himself to arm himself."
"This is in violation of my father's current agreement with your people." Amina said harshly.
"I know. And when the dust has settled we'll gladly even up." Werner replied in place of the Colonel. "But until then. Bullets work on these things pretty damn well. And my people want to help. AAAAND earn back a bit of good faith in the process."
Amina began moving over to the small group rapidly, and several of the guards in the room began unsnapping their weapons.