Hello everyone!
To repeat what the title said, ten months ago I responded to a prompt:

[WP] When out in the woods, you discover a cave that leads to a world that operates under Pokémon logic... And find that you have an innate ability to tame the monsters of this world.

The idea absolutely gripped me - and now I’ve published a novel inspired by that prompt and my love of monster taming games! Here’s the details:

Two suns, foreign plants, and a whole slew of monsters to tame.
Amateur entomologist and reluctant Life Scout, Caleb finds far more than he expected when he stumbles through a hidden cave and into a new world full of Kritt - monsters that can be tamed and taught to fight. He also didn’t expect evil overlords and their minions looking to use the power of Kritt to grind this world under their bootheel.
Unless someone stops them, that is.
Once meeting Antoinette, an affectionate ant Kritt that bonds with Caleb, and Karla, a tamer of this world that’s living off the land and preparing to strike back against the Darkholds, they set off. Their goal? Help free the people of this world from the Overseer’s grasp. A mountain’s worth of threats stand in their way, though: the Overseer’s soldiers, terrible abominations, wild Kritt, and all the trouble Caleb’s sarcastic mouth can cause.
Welcome, Caleb, to the world of Kritt. Now evolve - or perish.

Into the Tall Grass is a Portal Fantasy/Isekai book with strong gamelit elements.
FAQ
Harem/Sex/Murder?
Nope. This story is designed to capture the feel of those classic games, and while it does have higher stakes than those games, it is designed to capture the light-hearted feel that we all love.
Audiobook?
Nothing yet announced, but I’ll update if there is one!
Stats?
Into the Tall Grass is a stat light gamelit, and the stats do not appear explicitly until later in the book once Caleb gets his totally-not-a-Pokedex goggles. The later books in the series will have more detailed stats as Caleb delves further into the system that runs this world.
Shorts?
They’re comfy and easy to wear.
Where do I catch the book?
Well, you first need to learn HM Cut, go to the hole in the wall after beating the second boss...or you can just get it on Amazon
Amazon US Link - UK | CA | AU | DE | MX | JP | IN | BR | FR | ES | IT | NL
I want to sample before I pick up?
Well, good news for you - just read on!
Caleb Cooper slapped at his arm with a growl. Another mosquito. He wouldn’t have said camping was his least favorite activity in the world. Even at sixteen, he could easily imagine worse ways to spend his time. He could have his feet dipped in acid, or be stabbed in the back repeatedly, or repeat algebra. But no one was forcing him to do any of those, because he’d passed algebra and hadn’t angered any Bond villains lately.
“C’mon, try to smile some,” his dad said, walking up behind him and shaking his back. “What more could you want? We’ve got the great outdoors, we’ve got trees, we’ve got sun, we’ve got fresh air...this is perfect!”
Caleb sighed. “Oh, yeah, surrounded by kids who’re still in junior high. It’s everything a growing teen could want. Toxic plants, the sun, brats who think I’m a weirdo, the sun again...what’s not to love? You know, I could be going to a party tonight.”
His dad’s smile didn’t waver. “You do so love the party scene. I mean, the last one you went to was...Jimmy Dryer’s eighth birthday party? Getting wild up in the hizzouse there.”
“Okay, dad, I need to tell you two things. First of all, if you say hizzouse out loud, ever again, I will die. I will literally fall over dead from embarrassment. No, I know the correct definition of literally and I am using it correctly, that is actually what will happen. Do you want to be responsible for filicide via intense shame?”
“I’m positive that’s not actually possible.”
“Oh, it totally is. Remember Becky? Died last year because her mom was singing ‘Ain’t nuthin but a G Thang.’ Sure, they say Becky changed schools because they moved, but it was all a cover up. Heard her mom singing and pow!” Caleb punched a closed fist into his empty hand. “dropped over dead.”
His dad laughed. “Noted. And the second thing?”
“You might have picked up subtle hints about this, what with me mentioning it no less than two hundred and ninety eight times on the drive down here according to you. I don’t really like camping.”
There was a long pause, and his dad’s face fell. Caleb immediately winced, but it was too late. “You used to beg to go out every year, remember?”
Yeah, in like 8th grade. When all his friends had been in boy scouts with him, and he’d been able to spend time with them. But high school had come, and his friends had moved on. But the Coopers came from a long line of Eagle scouts. His dad was an Eagle Scout, his grandfather had been an Eagle Scout, and Caleb’s dad would be damned if his son wasn’t an Eagle Scout. “Right,” Caleb muttered. “Sorry, I’ll give it a chance. I’m sure once I get back in the groove it’ll be fine.”
“That’s the spirit!” His dad’s face lit back up.
Caleb gave him an expression that could have been a grin if you squint hard enough. “Awesome. I’m going to...head out.” He turned to trundle off into the woods.
“Where are you going?” his dad asked.
Caleb held up a glass. “Going to see if I can find an Acorn Weevil. There’s a lot of oaks around here, and I’d like one for the collection.”
It was the one part of the outdoors Caleb enjoyed -- catching insects. It was a bit of an odd hobby, but Caleb was a bit of a junior entomologist and enjoyed it. He was thinking about going to college for entomology after he graduated. Something about the wide variety of possible insects, finding things that people usually overlooked, categorizing them...it was calming. He had several glass cases of them pinned at home, many of them gathered from scouting trips like these.
Naturally, it was the one part of the outdoors his dad didn’t like. His father turned green and motioned for Caleb to go ahead. “Don’t wander too far!” he shouted.
Yeah, yeah. It wasn’t like he could go too far even if he wanted to. The campsite was in the middle of a series of mid-Missouri bluffs, and wandering more than an hour’s walk would inevitably lead to a solid rock wall. Or a road.
Step by step, the sounds of the rest of the boy scout troop receded in the forest behind him. Caleb let out a sigh of relief. He was the only high schooler still in the troop, and a lot of the older kids thought he had to be some kind of loser to still be doing this at his age.
They aren’t wrong, Caleb thought. Just not for the right reasons. Being a boy scout isn’t what made him a loser. It was his complete lack of social life at high school, relegated only to a few other dorks at lunch who he didn’t really hang out with, and the fact that he collected bugs when most people were going to parties or making out or getting drunk or playing video games or even playing Magic: The Gathering - that made him a loser.
That’s right. The MTG kids could look down on him for bug collecting. Was that fair? Obviously, they deserved someone who they could look down on too, and Caleb understood that unlike their weird hobby, his weird hobby was also gross. Still, didn’t he deserve the same? Someone he could silently judge and feel superior to? But, no, the only ones lower than him on the social hierarchy were kids with actual issues, and Caleb didn’t want to be that kind of jerk.
The worst part was, he felt bad for not enjoying the scouts anymore. If his dad had planned these trips as one on one things, where they could go out and find rare insects, or even some other wildlife finding things like birdwatching or something, Caleb would have loved their trips as much as he used to. Well, probably. Maybe. I’d like it better if I knew this was the alternative, Caleb amended. These days, however, he’d found most of the insects at their usual camping sights. He actually had an acorn weevil already, but there was no way his dad would remember it - since his dad didn’t really look beyond his own wants. He wanted an Eagle Scout, so an Eagle Scout Caleb would be.
Especially after what had happened with mom. Dad had become rabid about father-son activities since then. “It’s just the two of us now,” Dad said once, when he’d had a bit too much to drink after work. “Just the two of us.”
Caleb shook his head and brushed away a tree branch before it could slap him in the face. The stinging in his eyes was a good reminder why he didn’t want to go down that particular rabbit hole.
A little while later, as he had expected, Caleb found himself at one of the bluffs. It was a solid expanse of rock, covered in creeping vines. The tendrils would be crawling with acrobat ants, which made them a nice place to stop because they’d keep the wasp population down in the region. Maybe I could try to find a nest. Maybe even a queen. That thought he discarded - it would be a prize, but the only way he’d ever add an ant queen to his collection would be if he found one dead. It felt different than taking a single insect and putting it on his board. Taking a queen could wipe out an entire colony.
When I finish college, I’ll get a whole terrarium. Then I can have living ones. That way I’ll get to enjoy my insects in peace and make sure I never ever have people invite themselves over. They’ll be all ‘oh, can I come over’ and I’ll be like ‘sure, don’t mind the ants.’ And then I’ll have alienated another person! That would be better and would make him feel better about what he did. Even the knowledge that he was killing bugs sapped the fun out of his hobby. Of course, that same hobby would also guarantee his adulthood was as lonely as his teenage years, so maybe…
“Gah!” Caleb cried, and kicked a rock at the bluff. It was stupid and childish, but it helped with the frustration. He leapt to the side to avoid the rebound.
He needn’t have bothered. The rock went straight through the vines instead of plinking off the bluff. Caleb froze, then slowly started inching toward the barrier. Is that a...cave? He reached out, brushing some vines away, only to reveal a cave on the side of the cliff. It went back a good twenty or thirty feet in a crevice easily large enough for him to walk through before vanishing into darkness.
Bet I could find something new in there. He groaned. Because amateur spelunking has such a high success rate. That can’t possibly go wrong. Oh, wait, I’m thinking of...actually, I don’t know anything where amateur is a good thing.
Ignoring the warnings of his own hindbrain, something he was exceptionally good at, Caleb flipped on his flashlight. While he wasn’t a big fan of being a scout, their motto of “Be Prepared” had stuck with him more firmly than he cared to admit. Summoning his courage, he headed inside.
The cave was large enough for him to walk upright, at least. I wonder if anyone’s ever even been in here before? It was possible he was the first human to ever notice this cave hiding behind the vines, that his were the first human footsteps in this cave. Who knew what could be ahead? Hell, if it went deep enough, he might discover an entirely new species - cave ecologies were often very isolated from the rest of the world.
That thought overrode the lingering fears of going spelunking alone, and Caleb pushed ahead. To his relief, the cave didn’t really branch off anywhere, so there was only a miniscule risk he’d find himself wandering in circles. It wasn’t long until he was plunged entirely into darkness aside from his flashlight.
“You have now left the domain of the sun,” Caleb said in his best announcer voice. He’d heard that line from…was it a webcomic? Or a blog? He couldn’t remember, and that train of thought was derailed as his heart started to beat faster. The primal fear of the dark still clung to him, and he wasn’t as certain as he’d been at the outset that this was a good idea. Given he’d been fairly certain this was a terrible idea, that was saying something. Just as he was about to turn around, he saw it.
It looked like an ant, but it wasn’t like any ant Caleb had seen before. It was large, nearly a foot from mandibles to thorax, and too brightly colored to be a normal cave dweller with its exoskeleton covered in gold and black swirls. Its eyes were wrong, too, looking more like something you’d see on a mammal than on an insect. It should have been frightening, but somehow, it was oddly cute. The gentle eyes, the way it moved awkwardly, like it was a newborn that hadn’t quite grown into its legs...it had an overall appearance of helplessness. It looked up at Caleb and chirped curiously.
Holy crap. “Well, hello there,” Caleb said. “What are you?”
The strange ant chirped again. I have to catch it. It was too big for his glass jar, but that didn’t matter. It also didn’t matter that his dad would refuse to let Caleb bring it back alive. Caleb would find a way, damn it. This wasn’t just a new species, this was an insect that shouldn’t be possible. Ants didn’t get this big, and certainly not in caves. Caleb reached out a tentative hand.
What the hell are you doing? he thought. He knew nothing about the thing. It could be venomous. It could be dangerous. It was a wild animal, and he was trying to pet it?
Much to his surprise, the ant didn’t recoil from his hand or lunge at it. Instead, it studied it curiously, then rolled over on its back and began to wave its legs in the air like a cat trying to get attention, chirping happily.
Screw it. Caleb ran his fingers over the thing’s belly. It made a sound halfway between a chirp and a purr, almost like a trill. “Oh my God, I have to find a way to keep you. What do you eat?”
Not that he expected the ant to answer. He didn’t expect the ant to respond at all, besides continuing to make happy little trills as Caleb gave it a belly rub. Its exoskeleton was softer than he expected, covered with fine hairs that probably served to keep off water but also made it unimaginably soft. Already Caleb wasn’t thinking about the enormity of the discovery, he was thinking about taking it for walks around the block, or letting it chase a laser pointer.
Then, abruptly, the ant fell silent and righted itself. It hissed in Caleb’s direction.
He froze, shying back and running his hand through his own hair.. “Woah? What’s wrong? Too many tummy rubs?”
And then he realized the ant wasn’t staring at him. It was staring over his shoulder.
Caleb spun, whipping the flashlight around, and came face to face with an oncoming monstrosity. It was a bipedal insect creature with four limbs, nearly as tall as Caleb was. The upper limbs ended in vicious stingers, and the lower limbs had grasping pincers. Instead of mandibles, it had tentacles growing from under its six beady eyes.
That flashlight saved Caleb’s life. The creature shied back, its eyes glowing in the brilliant light.. The ant screeched and began to run deeper into the cave. That seemed smart. Panicked by the monstrosity, Caleb followed.
This isn’t happening. The sound of Caleb’s feet pounding against the floor of the cave filled his ears. His heartbeat joined the sound, and the light swung wildly. He was gaining on the ant. A surge of adrenaline hit, and Caleb reached down to scoop it up. The ant trilled in confusion, and lacking anything else to do, Caleb put it on his head without breaking stride. He kept running, the ant now turning behind him and shrieking more and more. It's gaining on us! Caleb could almost imagine it saying.
Then the light ahead grew bright. Without warning, he was back out into the forest, into the sun.
The monstrosity skidded to a halt near the entrance of the cave, waving its tentacles and roaring but refusing to enter the sunlight. Caleb was fine with that. Caleb was fine with doing nothing but running at a breakneck pace, his new friend sitting on his head and now trilling in defiance. Darting forward, he wove in and out of the trees, turning to avoid tripping over rocks. At one point, his vision a fog of panic, he was thought he jumped a stream.
It wasn’t until his lungs started to burn that Caleb started to slow down. A few steps later, he dropped to the forest floor, panting.
After a few minutes of gasping, he took stock of his surroundings. With dawning horror, four realizations hit him. The first was that he’d somehow run through a bluff that stretched for a hundred miles in less than a day. The second was that the trees didn’t look like anything native to Earth, let alone Missouri. That alien impression was greatly aided by the fact that there were two suns overhead, one red and one yellow, which was number three. Multiple suns were kind of a big one. Finally, and most importantly, he had completely lost track of where he was in relation to the cave.
Panic seized him, and Caleb plucked the ant off his head with shaking hands and held it across his knees, on its back. It came to Caleb so naturally that he didn’t even think about the fact that his panic response was to cuddle a strange animal until after he had. The ant looked up at him with eyes full of warmth and gratitude. “Where the hell am I?” he asked.
In response, the ant started to purr.
Chapter 2
After a bit, the ant began to struggle. “I can’t just keep calling you ‘the ant,” Caleb said to it as he put it down. The ant looked up at him and clacked its mandibles. “Hmm. Don’t know if you’re a girl and or a boy ant. Although if you’re eusocial, those terms probably don’t matter anyway. You’re not a queen or you’d be in your hive, so...are you a soldier? Or a worker?”
Maybe it was Caleb’s imagination, but the ant seemed to be happier with the word soldier. That’s probably just wishful thinking. You need to get your priorities in order, man. You’re in a world with two suns, you should be flipping out right now! And yet, he felt strangely calm. Maybe it was just because the whole thing was so surreal. Or maybe it was just because he expected at any moment to wake up back in his tent with the story of a crazy dream. Or maybe you’ve just snapped, and any moment now you’re going to realize you’re completely barking mad. Caleb shook his head. If he was dreaming or crazy, there was no point trying to figure it out. Either he’d wake up, or he’d be put in a nice padded room and given pills until he could see things normally. “How about Antoinette?” he said.
The Ant - Antoinette - began to bob its head and marched over to Caleb’s hand, pressing its head against his palm until he started to scratch it. Might as well think of you as a she, he thought. Giving her a name seemed to have done the trick, and Antoinette was now trilling and purring happily against his hand. “So, Antoinette, don’t suppose you know if I’ve gone crazy or anything, do you?”
Antoinette was not particularly eager to respond. After some time scratching and spacing out, Caleb shook his head. “If this is all real, I have to start thinking of what comes next,” he said to Antoinette. “C’mon girl, let’s get moving.” As soon as Caleb stood, Antoinette reared onto her hind legs. Smiling, Caleb scooped her up and put her on his shoulder. Even though she was nearly as long as a cat, she weighed about half as much. That, plus the long years of scouts giving Caleb at least some muscles to work with, meant she could stay on his shoulder easily. “Okay. Let’s go back and see if that thing is gone from the cave, right?”
Immediately Antoinette’s demeanor changed. She began to shiver and rubbed against his cheek. “You can’t possibly understand me,” Caleb said. Antoinette continued to shiver and rub, and Caleb decided it had to be his imagination. Even if Antoinette seemed to be more along the lines of a small mammal in terms of intelligence than an ant, there was no way she had the intelligence of a human - and even if she did, she couldn’t speak or understand English. She was probably just picking up on his nerves over returning. As he turned to retrace his steps, he reached up and began to stroke her back. “Don’t worry. If it’s still there, I won’t be going anywhere near it.”
Antoinette’s shivers seemed to subside. “Totally a coincidence,” Caleb said with a nervous chuckle. “No way you understand anything I’m saying.”
The look she sent his way could easily be called reproachful.
The trees here really weren’t like anything he’d ever seen before. They towered over his head, looking more like giant, single ferns than they did like trees. There weren’t any visible roots, they all just shot out of the ground. At the top they branched oddly, feathering into individual strands that were covered with tiny leaves that grew away from the rest of the body of the plant, maximizing the sunlight its green blade could get. It was a relief to see those tiny leaves on the trees though - up until then, between that and the giant ant, he was beginning to worry he’d somehow been shrunk and was walking among giant blades of grass.
As soon as he had the thought, he couldn’t quite shake it, but too many other things were wrong for that to be the case. The dirt was still normal sized, not huge chunks like they would be if he’d shrunk coming over here, and there weren’t any obvious giant landmarks to indicate he was tiny. Still, it was a strange feeling, and he was relieved when he found the stream from earlier. That had to be normal sized. Water wouldn’t flow with that kind of babble if it was shrunk down, not unless it was hundreds of feet wide from his perspective.
The relief was almost immediately quashed when he realized that he didn’t recognize this part of the stream at all. He hadn’t exactly been taking in the scenery, but he still had expected to at least recognize something. Unfortunately, nothing about this part of where he was looked even remotely familiar. He grimaced. “Is this where we were?” he said aloud.
Antoinette trilled, an almost sad sound. It was like she was saying “I have no idea, you think I was paying attention?” Caleb had to laugh at himself. Already he was assigning actual full sentences to Antoinette. “Okay, well, rule one,” Caleb told her. “Head downstream. It will take me to somewhere eventually, and hopefully that somewhere will include someone who has the faintest idea what the hell is going on and how I can get back to the cave.”
Resolution made, he started to walk in that direction. It was a beautiful day here in...wherever this was, and thus far - joy upon joys - he hadn’t seen a single mosquito. As long as he was stuck in this weird dream or psychotic break or whatever was going on, he was going to enjoy it. He did see a few more traditional insects climbing along the fern-trees he’d marveled at before, which was nice. It helped him feel less like he was tiny walking in a giant world. As much as he wanted to, he resisted the urge to peer down for a closer look at them. Right now they were tiny specs climbing along in rows, and if he didn’t look too closely he could tell himself they were just normal ants. The moment he did, he was certain he’d notice things that would mark them of nothing from Earth, and that idea straight up terrified him.
“Yes, that’s right,” he said to the foot-long ant on his shoulder. “The terrifying thought is the insects here might be different. Crap on a stick, I am going insane.”
There was definitely a spring in his step as he walked, but not from how happy he was feeling. It was like every step carried a little bit...extra. It added to the surreal quality of everything. He’d noticed it before when he’d been running down the hill, but now that he was fully aware of how he was moving and a bit less panicked, he could really feel it. “Oh yeah,” he said. “Definitely dreaming.”
And since this is a dream... He reached up and carefully pried Antoinette from his shoulder. She chirruped in confusion. “Don’t worry, girl,” he said, placing her on the ground. “I’ll be right back. I just want to test something.”
Antoinette cocked her head at him, and Caleb grinned. Then, tensing up his legs, he kicked off the ground.
And went sailing through the air. “Oh my God!” he shouted. He’d had a decent high jump before, but this...it took him nearly ten feet into the air. He whooped in excitement and pumped his fist as he reached the apex of his jump. He could see over the fern trees! He could see smoke in the direction he was walking! He could see...he could see a bird.
It wasn’t like any bird he’d ever imagined. It was soaring through the air like a hawk, but its feathers were red and blue, and its face was more like a reptile’s than a bird’s. It looked almost like an archeopteryx, but without the claws on its wings, and with three massive feathers streaming out behind it. It wheeled in the air. It was beautiful.
Then gravity reminded him that, while he could jump high, he wasn’t able to fly. Caleb began to fall. The fall was faster than it should have been, given his leap. It felt like he was falling in normal gravity. Okay, this is it. I fall, and right before I hit the ground, I wake-
The thought was cut off when he slammed into the dirt beneath him. The impact drove the air from his lungs, which was the only thing that spared him from crying out in pain. He tasted blood, and his vision was obscured by black spots. Caleb could only whimper. He collapsed to the ground in a heap. What little of his brain was still working confirmed that he hadn't actually shattered his legs. The rest of it just screamed in pain. This isn’t a dream. That was now painfully clear. Dreams couldn’t possibly hurt this badly.
Antoinette walked up to him and nudged him with her mandibles. When he didn’t respond right away, she climbed onto his chest and began that rumbling trill. Caleb could only wheeze as he tried to catch his breath. Antoinette studied him, and a long tongue raced out of her mouth to lick his forehead. “Thanks,” he managed to grunt, glad she was so much lighter than a cat - otherwise she’d be crushing his chest. “No, really.”
It took him a few more minutes to stand again, and only when he was able to was he certain he hadn’t broken any bones. He took a few deep breaths, feeling an ache across his entire back. “I saw some smoke ahead,” he said to Antoinette, who was clawing at his leg. “I really hope that’s a town, and that they can help. And also that they have painkillers. I’d kill someone for some painkillers.”
Antoinette clacked her mandibles.
“No, I mean, it would have to be someone I didn’t like!”
Antoinette kept clawing his jeans and Caleb shook his head. “Mind walking alongside me for a bit? I need...I need a new back. And legs. Really just a new body. Phew. Give me some time to recover.”
Antoinette stopped clawing and trilled sadly. Again, Caleb was struck with the distinct impression she could understand him. But that doesn’t make sense, he thought. There’s no way she could. It’s just...insane.
“You there!”
The sudden shout nearly made Caleb scream, and he whirled to face the speaker. Antoinette did as well, hissing.
“You need to step away from the Kralant. I don’t want you getting hurt.”
The man was wearing something that looked like a military uniform from the eighteen hundreds, black and red with buttons that pinned up far on the left side of his body. He wore a cap that matched the color of his suit, and he stood with a rigid formality. For all that, he looked like he couldn’t be much older than Caleb.
More interestingly, however, the bird Caleb had seen earlier was perched on his shoulder. “You...want me to move away from Antoinette?” Caleb asked, trying to register what he was seeing.
“You...named it?” the soldier said, sounding incredulous. The bird on his shoulder peered at Antoinette hungrily, and Antoinette clacked her mandibles and hissed. She showed none of the fear she had towards the monstrosity in the cave. The soldier only frowned. “Who are you?”
“Caleb,” Caleb said, narrowing his eyes. “Who are you?”
“I am Ruzo, First Private of the Darkhold Omal. This is Silv.” The bird chirped at its name, although it didn’t take its eyes off Antoinette.
“I’m sorry, you called Antoinette a Kralant and seemed surprised I named her. Is Silv its name, or is it it's species?”
“He,” Ruzo said, stressing the word, “is a Silvtherix. I named him Silv.”
“Wow, very original name there.” Caleb couldn’t help himself. Something about Ruzo’s attitude was rubbing him the wrong way. It was his imperious demeanor, like he owned the place. Who the hell does he think he is?
“Says the boy who named a Kralant Antoinette,” Ruzo said, although he flushed a bit at mockery. “I need you to come with me, Caleb. These woods are forbidden. I thought you’d just gotten lost, but since you’re a Tamer...clearly you’re in violation of the Treaty. Put your hands behind your back.”
“Okay, first of all, working Antoinette’s species into her name is a brilliant pun. I didn’t just chop off part of the name and call it good. Second of all - put my hands behind my back?” Caleb asked. “Who the hell do you think you are?”
“First private of the Darkhold Omal,” Ruzo said, repeating his earlier words and with the same drilled in efficiency. “Who do you serve, Caleb?”
“Oh. Uh. Well...I’m with Troop One-Eighteen,” Caleb said, uncertain what else to say. “Boy Scouts, United States of America. And, private, I’m a Life Scout. So, yeah. Shove that up your craphole and spin on it.”
It was pretty clear that Ruzo had no idea what anything else Caleb said meant, but his eyes narrowed at the last sentence. “I don’t know who you serve. But clearly, someone needs to teach you manners.” He swung out his arm. “Silv! Attack!”
With a shriek that put a chill into Caleb’s bones, Silv took to the air.
In response, Antoinette let out a hiss of challenge.
Oh you’ve got to be kidding me, Caleb thought, squaring up.
I’ve definitely gone insane. But the pain in his back reminded him that insanity was much less certain than he’d previously believed. He could be absolutely certain of one thing, however - he had no idea what he was doing.
Silv shrieked as he swooped through the air, diving for Antoinette. Caleb couldn’t help but notice how dangerously curved those talons were, each ending in wicked barbs. It looked like they could tear through flesh like razorblades. “Antoinette, do...something!” Caleb shouted in panic.
As soon as the words left his lips, he felt something. It was almost like a tug on his skin, but it was a strange and alien feeling. Like part of him had been yanked away. Antoinette leapt to the side, snapping her mandibles. Silv passed through the space she had just vacated, his talons clutching only empty air. Confidence flashed through Ruzo’s eyes. “Do something? That’s the best you have? Silv is going to tear your Kralant apart.”
Caleb’s heart started to pound. In the games, the monsters would always faint at the end of fights, then there would be a heroic rush to town and the monster would be cured. Looking at those talons, it was hard to imagine this fight would be that harmless. “Antoinette, do something ranged this time!” Caleb said, frantically going through his pockets. That strange tug happened again, but Caleb ignored it. He needed to help.
A meme he’d seen the other day on his phone flashed through his mind as he frantically patted his pockets, modified for his current situation. “I’ve had Antoinette for only half a day, but if anything happens to her I’d kill everyone in this field and then myself.” Really, Caleb? You’re watching a pair of monsters fighting for their lives and the best you have are memes and vague commands? It’s not like he could do much else. He didn’t really have any kind of weapons on him. A simple Swiss army knife, too small to be used for actually fighting anyone. Not that he had any idea if he could actually bring himself to stab Ruzo. The guy was an ass, but Caleb had never hurt a fly.
Well. Metaphorically speaking. He’d squished plenty of flies in his day.
Besides that, he didn’t have much else. A can of bug spray. Some twine. A granola bar, still in its wrapper. A zippo lighter. A...wait, that’s it. Caleb looked back up to the fight as he pulled four of the items out of his pocket, trying desperately to get his hands shaking at another terrifying scream from Silv.
Silv was circling the fight, staring down at Antoinette with eyes full of fury. Ruzo was watching Caleb with a curious expression, as if he were trying to figure out what kind of stupid thing Caleb was going to do next. Oh, if you had any idea how stupid I was about to be, you’d be...very...uh...shocked? Antoinette was on the ground, watching Silv carefully.
“Now!” Ruzo shouted.
Silv screamed and dove towards Antoinette. The Kralant had never seemed so small before, but she held her ground, her mandibles pointing towards the sky.
Then, the moment Silv got close, Antoinette let loose a spray. It was white and stringy, almost like spider silk. Silv flapped his wings hard, letting a gust of air blow the strands away. Where they touched the dirt they sizzled like acid. Caleb’s eyes widened. “Holy crap, what was that?”
Antoinette trilled happily and rose up on her hind legs, letting loose another barrage of caustic strands. Silv took to the air, getting out of range, and screeched in fury at having its attack interrupted. “You really don’t know?” Ruzo said, his eyes hard. “You’re an absolute moron, aren’t you?”
“Yeah? Well, would a moron be doing this?” Caleb responded. It wasn’t exactly the witty repartee he’d been hoping for. With the distraction the battle had provided him, he’d managed to tie the zippo around the bug spray and held up his prize.
“...it seems one would,” Ruzo said, his forehead creasing. “What the hell is that supposed to be?”
Silv dove down towards Antoinette again, banking to dodge the spray of acidic webbings. In response, Caleb flicked the zippo opened and stepped forward. A small flame sprang to life, and Ruzo’s eyes widened. “What are you doing?” he shouted. Caleb ignored it. He pressed down on the top of the bug spray.
The fine mist met the flame of the zippo and flamed to life. Silv screeched in sudden fear and pulled back, still several yards from reaching Antoinette. Antoinette whipped her head around and gave Caleb a curious chirp. “That’s right!” Caleb shouted, pointed the improvised weapon at Ruzo. “You think you’re going to hurt Antoinette? I will literally set you on fire.”
Ruzo’s eyes were wide, and Silv flew over to his outstretched arm, landing on it like it was a tree branch. The massive bird looked like it shouldn’t be something Ruzo could hold, but his arm never wavered. “You...are an Artificer? I should have known…” he trailed off, studying Caleb up and down.
“Yeah, that’s right. I’m an Artificer,” Caleb said, hoping the term was descriptive enough to be able to fake what he thought it meant. “I just built a flamethrower. Back down, buddy, or I swear to God I’m going to set you up like a cheap firework.”
Of course, it was a total bluff. Ruzo was a good fifteen feet away. The flame from this thing could go a foot, max. If Ruzo called him on it, Caleb would find himself having to reveal the limits of his homemade weapon very, very quickly. And when he did, what would happen? Would Ruzo send that damn bird after Antoinette again? Or would he send Silv straight after Caleb, trying to tear out his eyes?
Oh man. This is really, really looking bad for me.
“I’m surprised, Artificer,” Ruzo said, reaching up to stroke Silv under the beak. The bird leaned into the touch and chirped. “Entering the battle so early? You must have something serious you’re hiding. Something the Darkhold Olam will want to know. Well, if you wish to make this a test of that…” Silv began to crawl up his arm until their heads were butting together. “I’ll be more than happy to oblige.”
“Yo, you’re talking a pretty big game for someone who’s about to get his ass set on fire,” Caleb said, but the brave words couldn’t stop the tremor in his hands. “Why don’t you stop what you’re doing and go away? I don’t want to hurt you.”
Ruzo laughed, a mocking sound, as Silv began to work around to his back. The bird started to wrap wings around Ruzo’s face, and the spots on his wings matched up perfectly with Ruzo’s eyes. “Don’t worry about that, little Artificer. I promise, I’m in absolutely no danger.”
Their forms began to glow. Caleb took a step back, reflexively pressing down on the button for the bug spray. The flame seemed almost dark when compared to the immense light pouring out both soldier and monster as they began to rise into the air. “Antoinette?” Caleb said, shaking so badly he thought he might fall over. “I think I’d like to wake up now.”
Antoinette cooed in a sound that trembled with fear.
The glow vanished. Ruzo was gone. So was Silv. In their place was a single being, one that combined traits of both monster and man. Ruzo’s hair was now the bright feathers of the bird, his hands and feet ended in the wicked talons that the bird had shown in its diving sweeps at Antoinette, and two immense wings jutted from his back. Worst of all were the eyes, however. Ruzo’s normal two human eyes peered out at Caleb, but above those were the exact same eyes that had adorned Silv’s head. “So that is your flame, little man?” Ruzo said, and his voice had an odd quality to it, some kind of echo, like it was being spoken through two mouths. “I thought you Artificers claimed you could match am Tamer’s power. Looks like you’re just another worm.”
“Uh…shit,” Caleb said, looking down at Antoinette. “Do you know how to do that?”
This time there was no imagining it. Antoinette shook her head, and there was real fear in her eyes.
“Yeah, me either.” Caleb dropped to one knee and held out a hand. “Get on.”
Antoinette leaped onto Caleb’s arm and wrapped her legs around as Ruzo took to the air.
“So, Artificer,” Ruzo said, every word laced with mockery. “What will you do now?”
Fortunately, for the first time since he’d arrived here, Caleb knew exactly what to do.
Screaming in fear, Caleb turned and ran away from the four-eyed taloned bird-human hybrid that was rising into the sky. And as he did, the small part of his mind that couldn’t stop from being sarcastic even now couldn’t help but point out that it was totally unfair – none of the games allowed you to do that. Where’s the overly drawn out tutorial when you really need it?
Want to read more? Why not pick it up now?
Amazon US Link - UK | CA | AU | DE | MX | JP | IN | BR | FR | ES | IT | NL
And if you want to see more of my work, you can do so at /hydrael_writes

A list of strong military fantasy books

The best military fantasy isn’t just a bunch of castle sieges and knights hacking at each other (although those are fun). The most interesting books also examine what life in the military actually involves, and what combat can do to a person’s mind.

13. The Red Knight by Miles Cameron - 2012

Book 1 of 5 in The Traitor Son series
Twenty-eight florins a month is a huge price to pay for a man to stand between you and the Wild.
Twenty-eight florins a month is nowhere near enough when a wyvern’s jaws snap shut on your helmet in the hot stink of battle, and the beast starts to rip the head from your shoulders. But if standing and fighting is hard, leading a company of men—or worse, a company of mercenaries—against the smart, deadly creatures of the Wild is even harder.
It takes all the advantages of birth, training, and the luck of the devil to do it.
The Red Knight has all three, he has youth on his side, and he’s determined to turn a profit. So when he hires his company out to protect an Abbess and her nunnery, it’s just another job. The abbey is rich, the nuns are pretty, and the monster preying on them is nothing he can’t deal with.

“Literate, intelligent and well-thought-out…a pleasingly complex and greatly satisfying novel.”
―SFF World

12. The Darkness That Comes Before by R. Scott Bakker - 2003

Book 1 of 3 in The Prince of Nothing series
In a world scarred by an apocalyptic past, evoking a time both two thousand years past and two thousand years into the future, thousands gather for a crusade. Among them, two men and two women are ensnared by a mysterious traveler—part warrior, part philosopher, part sorceress, and a charismatic presence from lands long thought dead.

“[An] impressive, challenging debut, the first of a trilogy… [that will] please those weary of formulaic epic fantasy.”
—Publishers Weekly

11. Deed Of Paksenarrion by Elizabeth Moon - 1988

Book 1 of 2 in the Paksenarrion series
This book contains the first three books of the Paksenarrion series.
Paksenarrion, a simple sheep farmer’s daughter, yearns for a life of adventure and glory, such as was known to heroes in songs and story. At age seventeen she runs away from home to join a mercenary company and begins her epic life . . .
Book One: Paks is trained as a mercenary. She is introduced to the life of a soldier, and to the followers of Gird, the soldier’s god.
Book Two: Paks leaves the Duke’s company to follow the path of Gird alone—and on her lonely quests encounters the other sentient races of her world.
Book Three: Paks the warrior must learn to live with Paks the human. She undertakes a holy quest for a lost elven prince that brings the gods’ wrath down on her and tests her very limits.

“Brilliant . . . the excitement of high heroic adventure . . . will enchant the reader.”
—Bookwatch

10. The Rage of Dragons by Evan Winter - 2017

Book 1 of 2 in The Burning series
The Omehi people have been fighting an unwinnable fight for almost 200 years. Their society has been built around war and only war. The lucky ones are born gifted. One in every 2,000 women has the power to call down dragons. One in every 100 men is able to magically transform himself into a bigger, stronger, faster killing machine. Everyone else is fodder, destined to fight and die in the endless war.
Young, giftless Tau knows all this, but he has a plan of escape. He’s going to get himself injured, get out early, and settle down to marriage, children, and land. Only, he doesn’t get the chance.
Those closest to him are brutally murdered, and his grief swiftly turns to anger. Fixated on revenge, Tau dedicates himself to an unthinkable path. He’ll become the greatest swordsman to ever live, a man willing to die 100,000 times for the chance to kill the three who betrayed him.

“Winter’s stunning debut fantasy epic is rich in complex characters and a well-wrought world with both European and African influences.”
―Publishers Weekly (starred review)

9. The Sword of Kaigen by M. L. Wang - 2019

Born into Kusanagi’s legendary Matsuda family, fourteen-year-old Mamoru has always known his purpose: to master his family’s fighting techniques and defend his homeland. But when an outsider arrives and pulls back the curtain on Kaigen’s alleged age of peace, Mamoru realizes that he might not have much time to become the fighter he was bred to be. Worse, the empire he was bred to defend may stand on a foundation of lies.
Misaki told herself that she left the passions of her youth behind when she married into the Matsuda house. Determined to be a good housewife and mother, she hid away her sword, along with everything from her days as a fighter in a faraway country. But with her growing son asking questions about the outside world, the threat of an impending invasion looming across the sea, and her frigid husband grating on her nerves, Misaki finds the fighter in her clawing its way back to the surface.
When the winds of war reach their peninsula, will the Matsuda family have the strength to defend their empire? Or will they tear each other apart before the true enemies even reach their shores?

“This companion novel to a YA series tells the story of a mother and son caught up in a shadow war… Wang’s novel mixes sci-fi technology with the martial arts lore of East Asia to create a fantasy realm that is intricate and original.”
—Kirkus Review

8. The Way of Kings by Brandon Sanderson - 2010

Book 1 of 4 in The Stormlight Archive series
Roshar is a world of stone and storms. Uncanny tempests of incredible power sweep across the rocky terrain so frequently that they have shaped ecology and civilization alike. Animals hide in shells, trees pull in branches, and grass retracts into the soilless ground. Cities are built only where the topography offers shelter.
It has been centuries since the fall of the ten consecrated orders known as the Knights Radiant, but their Shardblades and Shardplate remain: mystical swords and suits of armor that transform ordinary men into near-invincible warriors. Men trade kingdoms for Shardblades. Wars were fought for them, and won by them.
One such war rages on a ruined landscape called the Shattered Plains. There, Kaladin, who traded his medical apprenticeship for a spear to protect his little brother, has been reduced to slavery. In a war that makes no sense, where ten armies fight separately against a single foe, he struggles to save his men and to fathom the leaders who consider them expendable.
Brightlord Dalinar Kholin commands one of those other armies. Like his brother, the late king, he is fascinated by an ancient text called The Way of Kings. Troubled by over-powering visions of ancient times and the Knights Radiant, he has begun to doubt his own sanity.
Across the ocean, an untried young woman named Shallan seeks to train under an eminent scholar and notorious heretic, Dalinar’s niece, Jasnah. Though she genuinely loves learning, Shallan’s motives are less than pure. As she plans a daring theft, her research for Jasnah hints at secrets of the Knights Radiant and the true cause of the war.

“I loved this book. What else is there to say?”
―Patrick Rothfuss, author of The Name of the Wind

7. Furies of Calderon by Jim Butcher - 2004

Book 1 of 6 in the Furies of Calderon series
For a thousand years, the people of Alera have united against the aggressive and threatening races that inhabit the world, using their unique bond with the furies—elementals of earth, air, fire, water, wood, and metal. But in the remote Calderon Valley, the boy Tavi struggles with his lack of furycrafting. At fifteen, he has no wind fury to help him fly, no fire fury to light his lamps. Yet as the Alerans’ most savage enemy—the Marat horde—return to the Valley, Tavi’s courage and resourcefulness will be a power greater than any fury, one that could turn the tides of war…

“At the start of Butcher’s absorbing fantasy, the barbarians are at the gates of the land of Alera, which has a distinct flavor of the Roman Empire…”
—Publishers Weekly

6. Gardens of the Moon by Steven Erikson - 1999

Book 1 of 9 in the Malazan Book of the Fallen series
The Malazan Empire simmers with discontent, bled dry by interminable warfare, bitter infighting, and bloody confrontations with ancient and implacable sorcerers. Even the imperial legions, long inured to the bloodshed, yearn for some respite. Yet Empress Laseen’s rule remains absolute, enforced by her dreaded Claw assassins. For Sergeant Whiskeyjack and his squad of Bridgeburners, and for Tattersail, their lone surviving mage, the aftermath of the siege of Pale should have been a time to mourn the many dead. But Darujhistan, last of the Free Cities, yet holds out. It is to this ancient citadel that Laseen turns her predatory gaze.
However, the Empire is not alone in this great game. Sinister, shadow-bound forces are gathering as the gods themselves prepare to play their hand…

“An astounding debut…has the potential to become a defining work.”
—SF Site

5. Promise of Blood by Brian McClellan - 2013

Book 1 of 3 in the Powder Mage series
Field Marshal Tamas’s coup against his king sent corrupt aristocrats to the guillotine and brought bread to the starving. But it also provoked war with the Nine Nations, internal attacks by royalist fanatics, and the greedy to scramble for money and power by Tamas’s supposed allies: the Church, workers unions, and mercenary forces.
Stretched to his limit, Tamas is relying heavily on his few remaining powder mages, including the embittered Taniel, a brilliant marksman who also happens to be his estranged son, and Adamat, a retired police inspector whose loyalty is being tested by blackmail.
Now, as attacks batter them from within and without, the credulous are whispering about omens of death and destruction. Just old peasant legends about the gods waking to walk the earth. No modern educated man believes that sort of thing. But they should…

“McClellan’s debut packs some serious heat…A thoroughly satisfying yarn that should keep readers waiting impatiently for further installments.”
―Kirkus (starred review)

4. The Thousand Names by Django Wexler - 2013

Book 1 of 5 in The Shadow Campaigns series
Captain Marcus d’Ivoire, commander of one of the Vordanai empire’s colonial garrisons, was serving out his days in a sleepy, remote outpost, until a rebellion left him in charge of a demoralized force clinging to a small fortress at the edge of the desert.
To flee from her past, Winter Ihernglass masqueraded as a man and enlisted as a ranker in the Vordanai Colonials, hoping only to avoid notice. But when chance sees her promoted to command, she must lead her men into battle against impossible odds.
Their fate depends on Colonel Janus bet Vhalnich. Under his command, Marcus and Winter feel the tide turning and their allegiance being tested. For Janus’s ambitions extend beyond the battlefield and into the realm of the supernatural—a realm with the power to reshape the known world and change the lives of everyone in its path.

“A spectacular epic fantasy debut.”
—Fantasy Book Critic

3. His Majesty's Dragon by Naomi Novik - 2006

Book 1 of 9 in the Temeraire series
When HMS Reliant captures a French frigate and seizes its precious cargo—an unhatched dragon egg—fate sweeps Capt. Will Laurence from his seafaring life into an uncertain future–and an unexpected kinship with a most extraordinary creature.
Thrust into the rarified world of the Aerial Corps as master of the dragon Temeraire, he will face a crash course in the daring tactics of airborne battle. For as France’s own dragon-borne forces rally to breach British soil in Bonaparte’s boldest gambit, Laurence and Temeraire must soar into their own baptism of fire.

“Terrifically entertaining.”
—Stephen King

2. The Black Company by Glen Cook - 1992

Book 1 of 4 in the Black Company series
Some feel the Lady, newly risen from centuries in thrall, stands between humankind and evil. Some feel she is evil itself. The hard-bitten men of the Black Company take their pay and do what they must, burying their doubts with their dead.

1. World War Z by Max Brooks - 2006

This book is a series of vignettes from people across the world experiencing the Zombie War. There’s no central protagonist, which makes the reading a little more difficult, but makes the whole book feel more real.
I realize putting zombies in a fantasy book list is a bit of a stretch, but it's close enough for me. I also loved the book.
The Zombie War came unthinkably close to eradicating humanity. Max Brooks, driven by the urgency of preserving the acid-etched first-hand experiences of the survivors, traveled across the United States of America and throughout the world, from decimated cities that once teemed with upwards of thirty million souls to the most remote and inhospitable areas of the planet. He recorded the testimony of men, women, and sometimes children who came face-to-face with the living, or at least the undead, hell of that dreadful time. World War Z is the result. Never before have we had access to a document that so powerfully conveys the depth of fear and horror, and also the ineradicable spirit of resistance, that gripped human society through the plague years.

“Will spook you for real.”
—The New York Times Book Review

Blog link

Bioships: Engineered Animals

Another interesting topic to cover is the side effects of bioship technologies. While this ranges from unique terraforming methods to structure engineering, sometimes they use these technologies to replace robots in certain circumstances. Not to say that robotic assistance was completely phased out, but some humans seem more enamored with the idea of a ‘cute’ flat crustacean cleaning their ships than they do with a robotic vacuum cleaner (The damned things look like a Roegan Mud-diver, disgusting things). Further still are labor beasts and the like. Whatever the case, humanity really does take their love of creatures and biology to interesting reaches.
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________
“Red”.
“\Vulgar Expletive**”
I walked into another segment of the bioship. Normally I would be tailing the ship’s captain, but as it stands there’s something that’s been intriguing me for some time, and one of the many items I stand to research about humans and their biotech. Cue the three humans, two ‘baseliner’s and one Octopod, playing a card game over a flipped empty crate. Surrounding them were various containers or ‘cages’, rib-like bones that would retract at the push of a ‘button’. Each container held various organisms, varying in size and build. A topic I’ve been wanting to cover.
The three of them turned away from their primitive game and noticed me, now curious.
“So, I guess that dis here’s our turn for an interviews?” The shorter of the two baseliners said, an odd accent leaking through his voice on the translator. “What’cha thinkin Mac, should we screw wid ‘em?”
“Nah, I don’t thinks the boss ‘ould like it. You know how much a stiff that guy can be when it ain’t about ships”.
I worriedly glanced at the two before tapping my translation matrix. “It seems my translation matrix is having difficulties fully processing your language. Do you speak a different dialect?”
“They’re from Boston on Earth, though they like to ham up how they talk sometimes, which for the record is atrocious. So uh, ‘accent’s I think might mess with the translator you have. Name’s Ishmael, I’m the brains among us three”.
“Sez you, you may be smart but are ya street smart?”
“Just another way of saying ‘common sense’, but I’d like to think I have it in spades. Oh, by the way, plus two”.
“Oh this is bull-\Vulgar Expletive** you are both out to get me I swear,” The human said, in a lighter version of what was a previously thick accent. The human shook his head in anger and sighed before turning to me. “Yeah, sorry ‘bout that. Look fellas, why don’t we pick this game up another time, we have a guest”.
“Coward, you're only quitting 'cause you suck at Uno,” The Octopod said goadingly, though humor was there.
The standing human sighed, rolling his shoulders. “Sorry ‘bout that, the name’s Vincent. Yeah, real original my parents were. I’m guessing you’re here ‘bout the critters?”
“Astute observation my good man,” I stated, pulling out the datapad program on my exosuit. “I’d like to record some data of the organisms in action, perhaps learn about their handlers in the process”.
The human grinned, adjusting his cap. Those items seemed awfully popular among the crew. “Well look at me now mom, cousin Bill said I’d never make it but here I am gettin’ interviewed like a rock star”.
“You keep massaging that ego of yours and I’m gonna give you a rough Japanese style happy ending,” The octopod retorted.
“What does that mean?” I asked curiously, directed to Ishmael.
“Have you ever watched hentai?” He asked back.
“Anyway,” Vincent interjected before I could ask what this ‘hentai’ was. “Why don’t we get down to the meat and potatoes of it. Which critters you wanna look at first?”
“Your ‘Ship Shrimp’ would be a good start actually. I’d like to take one out to scan it”.
“Ah, the Goombas,” He said with understanding. “Yeah, follow me. Was just about to send one out to the latrine actually. Apparently that ‘guest’ of ours made a mess when he dunked his head in the toilet”.
My membrane bubbled in my species’ equivalent of an exasperated sigh. “Goodness, I know human feces has an appealing aroma to the Maruuk but I gave him ration packets to appeal to his diet for goodness sakes”.
The human shrugged. “Eh, I’d say I don’t blame ‘em since human ration packets taste like \Vulgar Expletive**, but considering what’s in his ration packets I guess I can’t say much”.
The humans all gathered around one of the smaller cages and pressed a button, pulling away bone and exposing the organism inside. Out crawled the… hideous creature.
“Yeah, these things are pretty much like if a pill bug and a tarantula hate-\Vulgar Expletive**, but they kinda have a cute appeal to ‘em if you ignore the fact that they’re an abomination in god’s eyes. Then again, I guess humanity stopped caring what the big guy thought centuries ago”.
“Aw, don’t say that, you’ll hurt his feelings,” The octopod said, picking up the Shrimp and holding it up as its legs moved in a wavy fashion in tandem, chirruping and clicking its mandibles. “Oh you’re a happy fella today, yes you are”.
“In the name of the First Born put that damn thing down or so help me-” I began, before being interrupted.
“I get it, I get it, everyone’s a critic,” The Octopod said with an audible eye roll, putting the creature down. “Look, that’s something you’re gonna have to get used to, alright?”
“Not when it reminds me of a predator of my species it doesn’t. Keep that thing where it is so I can scan it. I needed it out of the cage to get a clean scan,” I bubbled disdainfully, accomplishing my task as quickly as I could with a new program running on my exosuit.
As the processes ran, the talkative one leaned back against the soft wood-like ship interior. “Sooo… how are babies made for your people? What with all that 'First Born' nonsense”.
I could feel my membrane quiver with annoyance, but I appreciated the diversion from this chittering creature while the process ran. “We aren’t ‘born’ in a traditional sense, we reproduce asexually via mitosis. When we have our ‘split’, both ‘children’ carry portions of memories from our parent body, though each child carries different memories than the other. My species can carry memories up to four generations back on average, though nine is recorded to be the upper limit. The differing memories upon a split can result in two varying personalities as a result nonetheless. Were it not for my third generation’s spiritual phase among the Vehmons, I would say I probably wouldn’t have half the patience I do today. When we split, the parent is considered ‘dead’ as the two are born. We can go a long time without splitting compared to organisms with similar methods, but we still cap out at around roughly sixty years”.
*Beep\*
“Oh thank the First, put this thing to use and get it away from me,” I said, no longer tolerating it.
“Sheesh, alright. Mac, get ol’ Stumpy loaded up with a directive would ya?”
The man nodded, picking up the crustacean and walking away. I was just about to question what they meant by that when the octopod stopped me. “Don’t worry, you’ll get a first-hand display shortly. We need the M.U.L.E.s to upload some gear for us anyway”.
“Ah yes, the old earth animal? Relatively unaltered from what I understand?”
The human and octopod looked at each other, before looking at me.
“... Did I misunderstand something?”
____________________________________________________________________________
“Scratch relatively unaltered…” I muttered into my suit, studying the hulking creatures.
They only barely resemble their namesake, but it was only in the tail and an echo in various other parts. The rest of it looked more like a shrunk-down Chyron, full of muscle. The head itself was one of the parts where you could see an echo of an actual mule, but it had reptilian features as well, and two pairs of spider like limbs sticking out of it's back. It lumbered over to a station, where various probes pointed at the surprisingly docile creature.
“Now, on one end robots can accomplish their tasks normally, but on the other end, it’s been noted that minimizing the number of mechanical components in a ship makes things easier for it in terms of comfort,” The octopod began explaining. “And to be honest, there are some things a creature can do that robots can’t. Cue Jackalope Genetics and their patented M.U.L.E., Manual Unpaid Labouring Entity”.
“Bet the test tube turds had a field day with that acronym,” I overheard Vincent mutter.
“When we want to give them an ‘order’...” Ishmael said. “We have to give them a ‘push’. They understand verbal commands just fine, but it’s about the same as a Gorilla, and believe me, humans have been spending centuries trying to define what makes an animal a person. My species barely scraped through on the skin of our beaks, we’d probably be in Europan Zoos if humanity hadn’t recently recovered from their civil war with so much guilt to consider giving us a chance”.
With swiftness surprising for such a hefty suit, Ishmael typed in a few orders at one of the organic terminals, the boney probes sending out puffs of pheromones into the M.U.L.E.s nostrils, making them flare. It immediately got up and started lumbering on all fours, moving and following Vincent. The man led the beast out the door, leaving only Ishmael and I.
“What happened?” I asked, genuinely curious what was in that pheromone cloud.
“No joke, it was just lemon-scented mist”.
My membrane bubbled incredulously, trying to emulate my emotions with a helmet cock. The octopod chuckled at that.
“Like I said, no joke. I already told you they can take orders just fine, but they’re lazy as hell if you don’t incentivize them, which helps save on food costs if they just… sit around. They’re programmed to respond positively to scented mists like that, but some of them develop a fondness for certain ones. Junkie likes lemons”.
Incentivizing bio-engineered organisms and guiding them rather than just using microchips and doing it through computers? The more and more I spend time on this ship, the more and more I realize that the galactic community seems somewhat cruel in terms of how it treats organisms like these, normally used for bioweapons or entertainment. Speaking of bioweapons, I suppose I should research what equivalent humans have for those… outside the obvious ships, of course.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________

I actually had a bit of fun with this one. Well, more fun than I did with the others at least. Here's hoping it holds a candle to the others ey? Also, Goomba = Roomba. Saw a coincidence, and considering they're flat, roughly circular things they were given the comparison and popular nickname.

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A realistic look at Fred and George's bet with Ludo Bagman and what they might win.

The best uses for a deck of cards / Playing games worth playing in these times

It is a horrible time for the world, but a good time for games. As it is an expensive and space consuming hobby, I know many of us don’t have access to everything we’d like to play. Over a few years I researched for myself the best uses of a deck of cards – easily portable, easier to get people to the table (oh yes! I play cards!), usually available. It seems like the right time to share the results.
I’ve organized the below into both frame of mind (I want to Think, I want to Pass Time, I want to Laugh) and player count. Player count is focused on who you have – I didn’t put games necessarily where they are best, but rather “if I have four people, what is my best option?”
A brief calibration: I still have my 1995 first edition of Settlers of Catan. I’ve got roughly 80 games in my basement curated from the last 25 years and know the rules to twice that number. My favorite games are Tigris & Euphrates and Race for the Galaxy. This isn’t boasting (certainly not around here) - it is meant to be context so when I say these are games “worth playing” you have a better sense of what that means.
Links to rules. Hope this is helpful.
When you want to think:
For 2:
· Khmer (2 players): Khmer begins as a math and probability game, but quickly evolves into the psychology space and bluffing as you and your opponent learn the game. It gets better with more play, as it has room for different metagames and strategies, and the winner will be the one who remains one step ahead. In essence, you are trying to move cards between your hand and the table such that your total is MORE than your opponent, but LESS than the table – and you are rarely sure what your opponent is holding. The deck requires six 6’s – we use face cards for the 6’s and A-5 for the 1-5.
· Dibs (2-3 players): This is also a psychological game, where you will win by predicting your opponent and staying one step ahead. The core conceit is simple, you each have an identical deck (1-13), you are bidding on another pool of cards (worth face value), and high cards win. The twist comes because you have to use your entire deck of 1-13 to bid, and you can’t win everything. The game is more commonly known as GOPS or Psychological Jiujitsu, but I feel those names are both bad and inaccurate, so we’ve adopted this name instead.
For 3:
· Fight the Landlord (3 players): This is the best 3-player version of the “Big 2” family of games from East Asia. Big 2, or climbing games, are a race to empty your hand before your opponents. There is wide room in choosing what to play when, and how to break up your hand, meaning you will be making both difficult and important decisions throughout each and every round. Highly addictive, and good hand play will nearly always beat out a lucky deal.
The rules get a bit lengthy when it comes to what cards can be led, so you will either want to make a crib sheet or simplify the rules to mirror Tichu (below). The game will play just as well.
· 99) (2-4 players): Another trick-taking game (see note below) on my list. The mechanism for bidding in this game (in a nutshell, removing three cards from your hand) is simple, but introduces asymmetric, hidden information and requires you to make trade-off choices between your desired hand and your desired bid. This adds a bit of crunch to the model without making the game inaccessible to new or more casual players.
For 4:
· Scotch Bridge (Really 4 players, but can stretch to 3-6): Also known as Oh Hell, Pratt & Whitney, La Podrida, and others. This is a trick taking game, and I nearly universally dislike those (see note below), but it wins me over for two reasons. First, you aren't trying to win the most tricks but rather to value exactly the strength of your hand and then hit that bid - which means you are engaged in every single hand. Secondly, the handsize will range from 1 to 13, and each handsize meaningfully changes the feel of the game. 13 is a pure test of trick taking skill, 1 is a Mexican stand-off with your chips on the table, and 7 in the middle is a wild ride of big bets and lady luck.
As noted, this game has numerous variations. Most make little tweaks to the scoring, max handsize, and order of hands. In general, I prefer a positive form of scoring (10 for hitting your bid, 1 for each trick, penalty for how far you missed your bid, etc.) and playing hands from 1 to 13 and back again.
· Tichu (4 players): In my opinion, the best of the Big 2/climbing games. Same as Fight the Landlord, the goal of the game is to be the first to empty your hand, but it requires skillful play in knowing when to play, when to pass, and what to lead. You can never go on autopilot in this game. Tichu is played in 2 vs. 2 partnership and has elegant rules for scoring, both of which make this one of my favorite games of all time.
A note on the game – It is technically designed and published by a Swiss designer. However, if you research it, he played more the role of an editocurator, (quite masterfully) going through regional variants of Big 2, compiling the best, pulling in some scoring rules from other games, and polishing it all into the glistening pearl it is.
A note on the deck - it requires four jokers. You have three options 1) Find two decks with the same backs and mark up the jokers 2) Equally mix two decks so there is an even mix of two card backs, again including and marking up all four jokers, 3) Removing the jokers and using the four 2’s as the jokers, with a crib sheet in the middle of the table mapping the four suits to the jokers. Or you can buy a Tichu deck.
5-6 Players
· Fossil (4-8 player): This is an auction game using a deck of cards. Winning a bid will net you points but losing a bid will constrain your future options - as well as provide key information to your opponents. These decisions are the core drivers – what to set out for auction and when to throw down on someone else’s auction. In the end, the game is a mixture of psychology, strategy, and luck, leaving room both for clever play and for big moments when everyone groans and laughs around the table.
It can play 4-8, but plays best at 5-6. The first game or two generally feels casual and luck driven, but as the game clicks you may start seeing how you can influence the state of the table by choosing what to auction, or how the timing of your bid can win or lose you the hand. Like Khmer, this game grows on you over the first couple of games.
· Napoleon (5-6 Players): This is a Japanese trick-taking (see note below) game. What makes it stand out is the hidden role. Each player bids individually, then the winner (Napoleon) declares a Secretary card. Whoever is holding this card is secretly on Napoleon’s team, unbeknownst to everyone (including Napoleon). This leads to bluffing and deduction during play, with players uncertain about when to win a trick and when to ditch their low cards. It’s an excellent knife twist in the side or what is too often a rote playing-out-of-hands in standard trick taking, and it creates a social environment ripe for discussion and laughter at the end of each hand.
Napoleon is very similar to Briscola Chiamata, but in my opinion plays better as it removes some unnecessary complications from that latter game. It also draws comparisons to Schafkopf/Sheepshead, but again I think this one does it better.
· Skull & Roses (4-8 players): This is a pure bluffing game – think Poker without hands, only you, your opponents, and your wits. If that doesn’t capture it for you, just accept that this is amazing. You all place cards on the table until someone starts bidding, then it’s a gamble for who thinks they can flip the most cards without revealing a skull. The tension comes because, if you win the bid, you have to flip ALL of your own cards - so if you’ve played a skull, you lose. But, if you play all roses, you’re making it easy on your opponents. Choose wisely when you want to bid to win, and when you want to bid to entrap your opponents.
The game is usually played with coasters, but just as easily you can give each player one face card as their Skull and three numbered cards as their Roses. Or mark up any stack of two sided, identical objects in your house – I’ve heard of people playing with sweetener packets at Denny’s.
1) A note on trick-taking:
I don’t like it. Pure trick-taking – think Vanilla Whist – is not devoid of skill, but it IS quickly masterable and rarely surprising. A set of skilled players will play the same hand the same way every time, can guess the outcome before play even begins, and state it with certainty after 2-3 hands have revealed voids or singletons.
Most trick taking games, therefore, overlay something else to add interest. Things like complex bidding (Bridge, Skat) make the games inaccessible to new players, and turn them into objects of study more than play. Things like small hand sizes (Pitch, Euchre) throw the game into heavy luck, and often throw you into the backseat, passively throwing cards on the table until you are dealt a hand worth playing. This is fine to keep your hands busy while you drink, but isn’t what I look for when Gaming (with a capital G).
Nonetheless, I’ve included four trick-takers. My criteria are straightforward:

You have to be able to bid and play whatever hand you get. Games like Spades and Scottish Bridge don’t ask you win as much as you can, but rather to exactly value your hand. Playing a bad hand can be just as engaging and difficult as playing a good hand.
They need a single, straightforward twist to add interest. Napoleon adds a hidden role and uncertain partnerships. 99 asks you to secretly remove cards from the game, manipulating suit length, while trying to deduce what your opponents have removed. Hearts asks you to consider and risk when to win a trick and when to lose. These all give you something to think about throughout the game, sometimes require you to shift tactics midgame, and don’t require a course of study to properly learn (I’m looking at you, Bridge).

I anticipate the comments will contain passionate counter-arguments. So play and make up your own mind. I’ve played a lot and am now offering the best advice I can.
When you want to chat and pass time:
None of these games are chutes and ladders. But they do offer more luck and simpler decisions, for the most part, allowing you to while away hours and spend as much time talking to your opponent as you do thinking about the table.
2 Players
· Cribbage (2-4 players): Cribbage plays out in two acts. You and your opponent(s) lay cards on the table, trying to hit or avoid certain sums, with a few bonuses for creating pairs or runs. Then you look at your hand (and the crib) to make combinations worth points. There’s a bit of a list to remember, for what scores you points, but with that mastered the game settles into an easy rhythm of regular dopamine hits and little pegs on a board. Hitting 15 and hunting for your melds is utterly enjoyable. This is the perfect game to crack open a bottle of something together and seamlessly move back and forth between chat and play.
· Spite & Malice (2-4 players): This game feels like Spit - without the frantic pace, slapped hands, and bent cards. It’s also like multiplayer solitaire, except reverse to how that term is usually used. The rules are built on real solitaire, but you will be very much intertwined with your opponents. Hence the spite, and the resulting malice. I know couples who play this frequently, keeping a running score for the entire year.
3 Players
· Shed / Palace (3-5 players): This game goes by many names, not all of them polite. I was taught it as “Screaming Yoda” and it was over twenty years before I learned that the game was known worldwide by other names.
Anyway, Shed is a race to get rid of all your cards. Instead of a winner, there is one loser (the last one). The rules for playing cards are simple, and sometimes you’ll be forced to pick up 20 cards all at once. But it’s fine, everything’s fine. You’ll get it back.
The game plays out in multiple acts and often swings back and forth, lending it excitement and perpetual hope. Not overly strategic, but engaging and fun from start to end.
4 Players
· Canasta (4 players): The Archetypal Argentinian game. Canasta is an ageless, breezy, push your luck game of set collection and making odd faces at your partner across the table, trying to read their mind without communicating ("May I go out?" "No." "G****n you what a f**** mess why didn't you play your Canasta before.")
It feels a bit like Rummy, as you are drawing and discarding to collect sets of cards with your partner, and trying to out-collect your opponents. However, the team dynamic, the scoring rules, the wild cards, and the end-game make this an entirely different animal.
The game has a frustrating amount of rules – though they are all simple, the sheer number means some time to learn and then time to familiarize/memorize. As is the way with most longstanding, cultural games. Nothing that a crib sheet and a few run-throughs can’t solve.
· Cuarenta (4 players): Now hop over to Ecuador, and this is the national game. The central conceit is much simpler than Canasta – play one card onto the table, trying to capture the cards already on the table by creating matches or runs. But, as with Canasta, there is then a laundry list of footnotes to be memorized with edge cases and scoring.
That said, once digested, the game is simple, breezy, and endlessly entertaining. You’ll do better if you can calculate odds and count cards, but at the same time you can still enjoy yourself (and still win) by just playing your cards and sipping your drink.
· Hearts & Spades (4 players): As mentioned, I’m generally not a fan of trick taking (see note above). I include these because they don’t overinflate themselves. They know they are simple trick-taking games, they add a touch of spice for interest, and just leave it at that. The result in both cases is a pleasant way to pass the time.
For Hearts, the good bit is the shifting winds, trying to decide at each point when you are trying to win and when you are trying to lose. Each hand is a puzzle, how to throw your hearts at other people, how to win those tricks with your high cards at the right time, etc.
For Spades, the central challenge is in correctly valuing your hand, then playing to hit that value. Keep in mind that others may start tanking their own tricks to hit their bid, which makes the ground under your own feet increasingly unstable. Depending on how the cards come out, you may find yourself scrabbling for just one more trick, or suddenly shifting to trying to lose because someone had an unexpected void – it’s that agility that comes from the shifting landscape and the fact that every hand is a chance to play THAT hand that makes Spades a game worth playing.
When you want to Laugh and have fun:
Sometimes you want to laugh more than you want to win. Sometimes you just want to have fun, without taking on any stress. These are those games.
2 Players
· Cabo) (2-4 players): This plays better at 3-4 but is the only one I’ve found for the bucket that does work for 2. At it’s core, it is a bit of memory, luck, and playing the odds – you are swapping facedown cards around the table, but you don’t get to look at all your cards. So you need to figure out what you have, what your opponents have, and choose the moment to strike - when you think you have the lowest hidden total.
Cabo is a relatively modern game, but even so there are a handful of different origin stories and many minor rules variations. Play one set of rules to start and, if you like it, you can check out all the possibilities and stick with your favorite.
3 Players
· Ricochet Poker (3-8 players): It’s a light betting game – can play with quarters or crackers, whatever you like. The game is simple and draws from poker rules. Each round you get one more card and have to decide whether you want to pay to stay in or fold. It’s more accessible than poker, so is easy to “wing it,” but you still get the agony and thrills that come from winning or losing the pot.
· Manipulation Rummy (2-4 players): If you are familiar with Rummikub, this is that game exactly but with two decks of cards (instead of tiles). If you aren’t – this builds on the foundation of Rummy, but all melds are played onto the table. Where it shines is the fact that you can break, reform, and rearrange ALL the cards on the table on your turn, in order to find a place for more cards from your hand. The joy is in hunting for that one opportunity on the table so you can wow everyone when it comes to your turn.
4 Players
· Cockroach Poker (3-6 players): This is properly a game that should be purchased, but in these times you can make a deck using two decks of cards – 8 each of 8 numbers (I recommend A, K, Q, J, 7, 8, 2, 3… it’s a cognitive psychology thing, just humor me). You’ll be passing cards facedown around the table, asserting (truthfully or falsely) what the card is. The game is in correctly guessing when someone is lying or telling the truth, as well as in the politics of not being the last person at the table to receive a card (after everyone else has already seen it). Every time you lose a challenge, the card goes face up in front of you. Collect too many cards, and it’s game over. This one is amazing.
5-6 Players
· Eleusis (4-8 players): I originally learned this as “Delphi,” a streamlined version that is more appropriate for kids. This version has more teeth to it and should delight all ages. One player takes on the role of god (think Zeus) and secretly writes down a law that all cards played must follow. All the other players must then, by trial and error, figure out that law and get rid of their cards. This is harder than it sounds. What makes it work is that Eleusis has a number of scoring rules that put balance into the game – you want the rule to be hard but not too hard, etc.
This game will earn many rounds of play. What is nice is it also has a co-op feel. Yes, you are all trying to be the first to guess and play your cards, but on the other hand you are all in it together trying to decipher the divine law you’ve been given.

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The White Wolf of Westeros by DrakeCross
Game of Thrones & Witcher Xover Rated: M, English, Adventure & Fantasy, Jon S., Arya S., Geralt of Rivia, Ciri, Words: 442k+, Favs: 2k+, Follows: 2k+, Published: Jun 25, 2017 Updated: Aug 6 1,327Chapter 3: S1-E2: At the House of Wolves - Part 1
Chapter 2: At the House of Wolves - Part 1
….
Geralt slipped off his mount after a stable hand had gotten the horse tied to a post, Graffin and the other soldiers doing the same. He'd take the time to gaze around the courtyard, getting an idea of his surroundings. The overall castle was well designed, being split from his understanding into multiple quarters which were separated by smaller inner walls and interconnected buildings. From his guess, this place was at least a several acres large, fitting for a family line supposedly as old as the Starks.
"No time to gawk around Geralt. Lord Eddard is expecting us." Graffin spoke up, getting the Witcher's attention.
He'd give a small nod before following the soldier across the courtyard and towards the inner eastern wall where another thick wooden gate separated the spaces. Voices spoke out as the gates were opened and two filed through before being closed behind them. The eastern yard was smaller than the main courtyard yet hosted the largest building he had seen in this hold, a massive hall. The grey stoned building was covered in the banner of a snarling grey wolf, the royal sign of the Stark family. The great wooden and iron doors into the hall were opened as two armored guards saluted to Graffin he gave a respectful nod to the guards as they passed by.
The inside of the hall was quite vast, having eight long tables set evening across the room. Empty braziers were set around the center along with a big fire pit, no doubt lit during dark and colder nights. At the far end of the hall was a small platform with a ninth long table set across it with a series of comfortable wooden chairs set behind it, facing out to the hall. Three men and one woman sat at this table, the oldest of the men sitting in the largest more throne like of the chairs.
Geralt focused on the oldest individual who was at in his forties by his estimate. He wore a fine yet simple leather best with bands crossing over it along with a regal cloak with a wolf pelt across the shoulders. Even with the heavier clothes, Geralt could tell the man was very much fit for his age, honed through years of training and exercise. His hair was a fine deeper brown and beard well-kept to give him a handsome northerner look befitting of a lord. His gaze was hard to read, yet it seemed deep and thoughtful
The two younger men, at least at or reaching their twenties were no doubt his sons because of their similar looks. The one of the left had longer flowing hair of a rich darker color along with a shorter shaven beard across his face. Much like his father, he wore a leather outfit although lacking the more regal hints the lord had. As for the young man on the lord's right, his hair was short and curly yet had the same darker brown color to it. His beard was more grown then his brother, yet finer shaped as well. His clothes were more similar to his father, perhaps hinting him being the closer in line to lordship. Both of them had a curious look at Geralt, the recognizable hint of young warriors sizing up another. He guessed the two blades on his back was what got their attention.
The last individual at the table was a woman, at least in her mid or late thirties by Geralt's estimate. She didn't seem like a northern like the few women he had seen, being softer and fairer looking. Her tied up hair was a lush auburn color and her eyes a piercing blue. She was dressed in a grayish blue gown, showing her quite slim figure. Her gaze seemed quite judging, cautious even from what he could tell.
Graffin stepped up before the gathered nobles, dropping to a knee and giving a short bow of his head. "Lord Eddard, Lady Catelyn, Lord Jon and Robb." He said formally to each individual at the table. "I'm surprised you were prepared for my arrival…I didn't expect news of-" He started before the Eddard spoke up, his voice having resounding command to it yet friendly in tone.
"We were having a small meeting among the household on other matters. Yet from my understanding you've traveled back here in quite the hurry along with…interesting company." His gaze drifted to Geralt, who locked gazes with the man, remaining silent still.
"He is a traveler was found a few days north during our patrol. This man encounter Wildlings, a band of a dozen." Graffin quickly explained, drawing looks of concern between the three men and a worried frown from the woman. "However they didn't escape sire if anything this man slayed them all." The two younger men looked to each other, muttering lowly as they glanced back at Geralt. The woman though had a doubting look to her. As for Ned himself…that steady gaze didn't falter in the slightest at this new detail.
"You are certain? That is quite a claim." Ned questioned calmly.
"I have no reason to lie about it sir. My men searched the area well enough, found no trace of anyone else fighting the raiders. No other footprints or bodies. From what I say of my companion here, he had just finished battling them when we found him."
"I see…" Ned paused, looking back at Geralt. "Stranger, state your name if you will and tell us about this encounter."
Geralt stepped closer to the table, taking a small breath before speaking. "My name is Geralt of Rivia. I'm a Witcher, an elite sellsword from where I come from." Pausing, he'd continue speaking. "I will admit sire, I don't know how I ended up in those woods, only waking up worn and battered. One of those raiders found me, tried to lower my guard before attacking. The rest soon followed up in smaller groups...three or four from my guess. Obviously I won in the end, lucky only getting roughed up in the end. They weren't that skilled considering past foes I faced."
"Quite the confidence about you." The short haired son spoke up suddenly. "Skilled or not though, you were vastly outnumbered. Surely you had something to even the odds."
Eddard looked to his son and then back at Geralt. "My son Robb has a good point Geralt. Such a skirmish would have even the most experienced fighters at their limits. A deeper explanation be desired."
"My style of fighting is very unique and adaptive thanks to my training along with decades of experience. Also my tools go beyond blades and more…exotic weapons which I have surrendered to Graffin." The mention of the soldier's name quickly drew attention back to him.
"Ah right…Geralt is correct. The clearing where the fight happened there was an explosion from what we saw. At least four of the raiders blown to bits from alchemical weapon."
This drew a more surprised look from Ned's gaze as he shifted forward slightly in his seat. "Just what are you Geralt? The more we question about you the more puzzling you are." The man moved to stand up from his seat. "A man with two swords, knowledge of alchemy, hair and skin as pale as snow along with eyes fitting of a beast." One hand tapped at the table as Ned tried to find some logical explanation about Geralt. "I feel you have a lot more to share about yourself."
The Witcher was silent before nodding. "I do. I hope you won't mind hearing my tale?"
Ned sat back down as he gave a small wave to Graffin. "Go ask the servants to get food and drinks ready. I feel we'll be here for a while."
…
Geralt spent a good few hours sharing his story, telling it exactly as he did to Graffin days before. He made sure to exclude any details involving the magical nature to his arrival here, Witcher or Ciri. Robb and Jon both were fascinated by the story while Ned and his wife Catelyn focused on every detail silently. He excluded the detail of monster hunting from his story which Graffin didn't correct on, showing that the soldier didn't care about the lacking detail.
"You have quite the fascinating past Geralt and a troubling matter with you missing daughter." Ned remarked as the story was at last finished.
"Thank you. I'll admit that these few days have been…stressing for me. If anything I shouldn't even be here at all trying to find her." Geralt remarked back.
"And why is that? I'm sure any good father would go to the ends of the world to save someone they hold dear." Ned questioned.
"It's a bit more…complicated than that." After all, how was he meant to explain that Ciri had the power over space and time, much less the boggling complexities of magic? He could tell Ned was an open minded man, yet he couldn't risk sharing such details with him…not just yet at least. "I can't say anything more on the matter. It's personal."
"Keeping secrets doesn't help your cause sir." Catelyn remarked, her voice formal yet stern towards him. "It's obvious you're not from Westeros or even Essos from my understanding…so either you're lying or hiding something."
Geralt had to admit the woman was sharp, even again he was terrible at lying on the stop. It was hard keeping details about his world limited, yet hopefully vague enough. One thing was for sure, this woman didn't trust him. "If I told you, you wouldn't believe me."
The noblewoman kept that steady gaze towards Geralt, doubtful about his claim yet Ned would quickly speak up. "The man has his reasons. It is a personal matter, one that he can freely share at a later date." Looking back at Geralt, he continued speaking. "We can't ignore your actions dealing with the Wildlings, thus you're welcomed to stay here in Winterfell for as long as you wish. No doubt once you've rested and become familiar with the keep, you'll feel more open to telling us more about yourself."
Geralt didn't expect such a patient reaction from the Lord, yet so far Eddard acted unlike any noble he had met before. He didn't impose his title like past rulers and treated him like a normal person despite his Witcher traits. Obviously, Eddard was a level headed individual or at least honorable enough to not be demanding towards him. Or perhaps the Northerner saw him as a useful ally…although Geralt already was thinking the same thing of the lord.
"I'll admit it's been a tiring week for me. I just need some time to rest, eat and get my bearings." Geralt answered back in a thankful manner. "Still I'm willing to do my part around the keep. Can work around the grounds, tend to any injured you may have or help the men train." The mention of training had Jon and Robb mutter to each other, along with Ned giving a thoughtful look. After all they all were curious to see the Witcher was capable of. "One request I have is if I can use your library. I'd like to research on certain matters and learn as much of the Seven Kingdoms as quickly as possible."
Ned thought for a moment before nodding. "Hmm…I see no issue with your request. For now, I recommend you take some time to look around Winterhold while the servants get your quarters arranged."
Geralt gave a respectful nod back. "Thank you Lord Stark. If there is nothing else, I'd like to take some time alone."
"Nothing else Geralt. I will call for you if anything comes up."
With that, the Witcher turned to leave yet even as he moved across the hall he could hear the low mutterings between the four nobles, yet was certain they were debating about the story he had shared. Leaving the great hall, the guards shut the gate and escorted him back to the main courtyard. Graffin was nowhere to be found, no doubt taking a long break after the days of traveling.
"Seems like I am on my own." Geralt muttered to himself, glad to no longer have anyone looking over his shoulder. If anything, he needed time to do some tests, somewhere private to see how his Signs were working. Also his wolf medallion still hummed lightly, hinting that a large source of power or someone with potent magic was nearby. His gaze drifted around the large court yard, trying to notice anything or one that stood out. However, he'd hear hushed voice, young and female in tone, coming from the archway leading to the Great Keep.
"We shouldn't bother him Arya." The older voice muttered nervously.
"I just wanted to see if it was true. Never seen anyone carrying two swords on their back like that." A younger more excited voice muttered back.
"He could be dangerous. I don't like those scars and…I heard he killed a dozen people." The other voice argued back.
"A dozen Wildlings Sansa. The spooky raiders you whimper about whenever Old Nan tells a story." Arya teased to Sansa.
"I do not!" Sansa snapped in an annoyed manner yet gasped when she realized Geralt was standing right there, arms crossed and giving a questioning look at the two girls.
The eldest girl was a fair young woman with long light brown hair and was dressed in a lovely northern dress and cloak. It was easy to tell by her looks and finer clothes that she was one of Lord Ned's daughters since she had a fitting look of her parents, mainly from her mother's side. She glanced away shyly, seeming nervous by his gruff appearance.
The young girl had darker brown hair styled into two pigtails along the sides of her head. Her dress was plainer yet more fitting for outdoors. If anything she almost reminded Geralt of a younger Ciri with the way she looked at him with curious yet confident gaze. She stare at the Witcher's cat like eyes, a hint of surprise showing on her face for a moment.
"You do have cat eyes! And you said the guards were lying! Arya remarked at her sister, a small smirk crossing her face while Sansa muttered, no doubt having betting on the matter.
Geralt couldn't help but give a small chuckle at her reaction. "Funny. Most people normally cower when they see them." He remarked back. "Then again people back home are overly superstitious."
"So is it true you're a mercenary? They say you're from some far off place across the Narrow Sea, a master swordsman even. I mean…that's why you use two swords right because you wield them both?" The young girl quickly asked.
He guessed the cover story from being from this continent of Essos was spreading. So far it seemed only the older Starks and Graffin knew the vague truth about his origins.
"Don't normally duel wield them. Normally use steel while silver is for more special occasions." He explained to the young girl.
"Like what? I mean isn't silver a poor choice of metal for weapon?" Arya commented.
"Huh…reading up on weapon crafting?" Geralt questioned, not expecting someone like her to know such a detail.
She'd shrug, a small smirk on her face. "Did ask the smith's apprentice a few questions very so often. Nan always tells myths and legends special weapons that can kill…well…"
"Monsters?" Geralt suddenly added in which caught Arya by surprise, who gave a small nod.
"Yah like that! I mean you don't actually kill monsters though?"
Geralt paused as he thought on how to answer. "I do kill such creatures if you'll believe it. I can say they're real enough from what I come from. Ghouls, ghosts and the like lurking around the dark places of the world."
Arya beamed when she heard his answer while Sansa rolled her eyes, obviously not believing what he said and thinking he was humored her younger sister. "I hope you mean it…so you better tell me a story about a hunt." The young girl demanded.
"Of course, for another time though." He answered back with a small smile. If anything Arya reminded him a lot of a younger Ciri which the way she acted. It at least improved his mood after the last rough few days. "I do have one question; do you have a shrine or sacred place here?"
Arya thought for a moment. "There is the small Sept of the Seven yet that is a boring place really. The Godswood and the Weirtree though-" Arya started before Sansa shushed her and spoke up.
"The Godswood is restricted though to our family and those invited into it. Arya seems to forget that detail after all." Sansa quickly explained, speaking sternly to her young sister who grumbled in annoyance.
"I understand. I'll have to ask you father next time then."
Sansa just nodded before shifting back to the Great Keep door. "Anyway we have bothered you long enough Sir Geralt. My sister and hi have to go back to our practices before mother notices." Arya gave a small sigh of boredom on the matter yet knew her sister was right.
"Goodbye Geralt! Umm…maybe you will show us how you fight during one of the training days!" Arya quickly remarked before Sansa tugged her back into the Keep.
Geralt gave a small wave as the two girl left before looking back around the court yard. To the north-west he could just make out tall trees over the many layers of walls the made up the keep. He couldn't tell how big the wooded area was, yet from what he saw of the keep from the outside, it must be at least a few acres. He was tempted to try sneak in yet knew that be a big risk. The last thing he needed was angering the Starks while in their good graces. For now, though his attention to one of the passing guards.
"Can you point me to the guest house and library tower?" Geralt asked simply yet politely.
"Sure. The tower is just right there." The man pointed to a large rounded tower that was set at one corner of the kenals area. "Guest House is across the Great Keep." He'd then point to a large building that build into a part of the north western edge of the courtyard wall.
"Thank you." Geralt answered back, the guard giving a nod before continuing his patrol. Looking to the tower, Geralt guessed now be a good time to check it out, get some light reading done before settling in for the night. The tower had two entrances, a main door at the front and a winding stairway along the tower's side. The long guard by the door nodded as Geralt approached, entering into a lodge area with chairs and small tables set around a large fireplace which was lit with a low burning fire. There were some bookcases set around along with loose tomes set around, no doubt from pass guests or the Starks readings. A quick check showed most of the books here were about general facts and knowledge, nothing that interested him.
Moving upstairs, he'd stop when he heard a low voice, an older man from what he could tell from the tone of the voice and light coughing. The second floor had a more fitting look of a library and study about it, with tall bookshelves stretched out in rows with ladders set around to reach the higher shelves. Geralt tracked down the source cough to find an old balding man dressed gray woolen robes along with a metal chain that was wrapped around his front.
"No need to hide yourself sir." The man said, his voice formal and clear despite his age. "If anything, it's rare to have anyone visit the tower here, much less an outsider such as yourself."
"You can say I'm a special. I'm Geralt of Rivia, Witcher." He replied as he moved closer to the man, noticing he was reading over scrolls and letters spread across an angled desk.
"Rivia…huh. I know my lands well sir, yet I can't say I've heard of such a country." The old man chuckled.
"Let's just say it's very far off."
The old man shrugged, a small amused grin on his face. "I believe an introduction is needed from me. I am Maester Luwin, advisor of the Stark family."
"I take that is the job of a Maester? Sounds like quite the important title." Geralt question.
"Ah you'd be right my friend." Luwin answered back with a nod as he'd roll up a scroll. "We Maesters are learned men dedicated to understanding of knowledge and truth. Herb lore, medicine, warcraft, history, economics and much more. No matter how small a noble house one Maester always serves it."
"Quite impressive considering. Where I come from such learning is more privileged to most and doesn't cover so many subjects. Oxenfort University was the closest form of high learning in the lands I come from, only the late king to have it shut down recently." Geralt remarked back.
"Sounds like your land was in troubled time if knowledge was being shut away like that." Luwin muttered in a concerned manner.
"Considering the church was rounding up anyone who knew out to mix water with any plant into a salve or speak in just another language, all in the name of ending witchcraft…yah…it was troubling."
The grim details had the Maester give a more wide-eyed look before turning to face the Witcher, his chain rattling about. "Just who are you Geralt? I was told that a scarred warrior came to out keep, a man who slew a dozen Wildlings." The man's eyes had a sharper look, looking over Geralt calculating as he seemed more alert then before. "Your age, I cannot determine it from a glance. The face tells me more middle aged yet the scars add more to my estimate. Physically though your body seems to be in its prime...perhaps farther then that considering. Your eyes are…" At that moment the Maester paused, having just noticed the Witcher's feline like gaze, yet he didn't question it just yet. "You are obviously learned considering how you speak. Can you explain the proper uses of milk of the poppy?"
Geralt knew the man was testing him and felt this maybe a good chance to win his favor. "A useful painkiller and anesthetic. Best taken in small doses from minor pains, drops mixed with drink. More serious issues should involve purer doses yet limited to avoid addiction. Back home healers prefer mixing it with alcohol for open wounds, numbs the pain and cleans the cuts." The Witcher clearly detailed.
"Interesting. Simple yet to the point answer…the last part I'll keep in mind since I've never thought to use the milk on such injuries." Luwin muttered with a small nod. "How far does your studies go sir Geralt?"
"Most of what you cover along with more exotic subjects." The Witcher answered back. "In my profession one needs to knowledge to get the job properly done, else that means someone getting hurt…or killed."
"Curious. You'll have to share more with me at a later time then."
"Gladly." Geralt paused though, thinking for a moment. "However could you give me a list of books? You know this place better then I. History about the Seven Kingdoms, the Houses, mythology, Night's Watch and this Wall."
"Quite the collection you're asking for." The old man moved about the library, seemingly finding every book the Witcher had asked for. "Ah if only the young masters were as inquisitive as you. They'd be wise leaders once of age." Soon a large pile was set on the desk yet already Geralt was shifting through them, picking one a black book with a raven crest, which of the Night's Watch, then a brown book titled Wonders Made by Men.
"Thank you. This will helpful for me." Geralt said as he flipped through a few pages.
"What interests you so much about The Wall so much Geralt?" Luwin asked.
"A hunch really. Heard bits and pieces traveling here and I just want to be sure." Geralt answered back as he leaned over the desk, cat like eyes rapidly scanning across the page's words.
"Well if you have any questions, seek me out. For me…" The Maester moved to collect his letters and scrolls. "…I have arrangements to sort out. King Robert and the Lannisters will be visiting within a few months. It has been years since the King has been up north, much less seen Lord Eddard." Sighing, he'd move to leave the Witcher alone. "Anyway, enjoy your studies Geralt."
The Witcher nodded, having not looked away from his book as he was curious over one page detailing the Night's Watch, mainly their founding history and purpose. Already Geralt was getting that this land had a long history stretching thousands of years. Maybe this information was misleading or just driven by myth. The book mentioned the Wildlings obviously, the wild people of the frozen north…yet one other mention was given.
"White Walkers…The Others…" Geralt muttered as he turned glanced at the book pile. He felt he needed to look into every detail about these beings. Myth or not, the vague details alone were too connecting to be coincidence. That alone made him all the more worried for Ciri.
…
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JoJo's Bizarre OC Tournament #5 - Round 2 Match 10 - Bert and Emilie "Dread" Delacroix vs John "Jack" Aurel

The results are in for Match 8.
Agnes and Arpeggi, in their shrunken states, continued to fight, surrounded by the rising flames of their lilliputian tower, fists flying and Stand blows being taken one after the other.
“You… Callous mother fucker!” Arpeggi cursed, Agnes feeling the singe of a heat blast both from behind and from launched wood. “We’re not aiming for a massacre!”
“You’re not,” Agnes spat out, then, pulling a tab on the table, a massive geyser erupting and launching his so-called ally away, “I don’t give a fuck about this place, and we’re in a Stand battle… And it’s all worthless, greedy scumbags watching! Let the fire spread! Let this place hit the ground so they see what someone with style can do!”
“You heard it here, folks! Agnes talked you all down… C’mon, where’s your passion! Don’t run out and away, c’mon! And here I thought you cared y’had money ridin’ on this…”
Conqueror Worm’s laughs reverberated as Glitch and William found themselves cooled by Ocean Eyes’ nectar, which found itself dissolving quickly but, for the moment, a functional barrier for the injured fighters, watching and listening to what happened.
“Th… They’re fighting each other up there…” William remarked, physically looking as though he was straining to force Ocean Eyes not to hurry up there and tear them a new one. “Glitch, we don’t have time to keep the flames at bay and call up another KST, and if I let Ocean Eyes up there it’ll eviscerate them, and-”
“What’s this? The kid is holdin’ back, afraid of his own Stand! Hey, kid, don’t hate this part of yourself! Ocean Eyes, it ain’t your enemy, that’s a part of you, what makes you special, so don’t be at odds with it! Embrace what it says, because it’s what YOU’RE sayin’!”
William was speechless, there, but his companion was less inactive in that time. Tiger “Glitch” Ricky simply hissed, then, her and her Stand hopping up out of the flames in an effort to brutally, mercilessly pounce upon the self-styled villain and the ally he had come to blows with. If they moved fast, they could bite through that shitty little twink’s neck right now!
Arpeggi grit his teeth, scrambling to find his footing as he witnessed the pouncing cat-stand, finding it hard to breathe among all the burning rubble, fading fast then.
Is… Is this how it ends..? Crushed and mangled as some lowlife’s burnt-up game piece..?
“And it looks like Glitch is about to take it! Shout-outs to Tigran, the only real one here, watchin’ through the fire and the flames!”
“Heh… This is just a bit of a sweat,” Tigran Sins answered, stifling a cough, “I’ll see all seven of these bastards run through games until they’re all-”
Arpeggi didn’t hear what was said next, only hearing his own defiant heartbeat. If he didn’t act fast, Agnes would die… Good riddance, right? But… Ugh, no, even scum like him, they don’t deserve…
He clutched at NEXT LEVEL until his fingers bled, and Glitch and William, both looking at him past their Stands waiting to attack, made curious sounds as yet more crumbled away.
“Mrr?!”
And then, there was white. An overwhelming cascade of baking soda burst from NEXT LEVEL, smothering the flames rapidly as an obscured form zipped up the tower again, grabbing Agnes and hurrying away from the thrown-off Glitch.
“You… Why did you…” Agnes rubbed baking soda out of his eyes, coughing and looking at the form of Arpeggi in this new Stand. “Motherfucker…”
“I have responsibility over even a scumbag like you… You tailed me here, and I’m not gonna let you die and escape responsibility easy.” He turned, then, to William and Glitch, his new form revealed. “Now, actually help me, follow my lead, and I’ll kick your ass later. We need to survive this-”
All four of the fighters, then, felt themselves grow rapidly, their combined weight so close together crushing the table they were on, much as a nearby tabletop wargame that had been setup found itself buckling under the weight of Metra, Oh No, the Black Angel, and their motorcycle.
“Welp,” Worm said with a bemused laugh, holding up the slumped body of Tigran. “Your fire couldn’t hurt him, but smoke inhalation sure could! I guess that means…”
“The winner is FIRE, with a score of 65!”

Category	Winner	Point Totals	Comments
Popularity	Graveyard Shift	12-17
Quality	Graveyard Shift	19-20	Reasoning
JoJolity	BADD GUYS	24-18	Reasoning
Conduct	Tie	10-10

With no more reason to fight, it got really awkward and everyone just sort of ran out of Heartache Casino. William Eyelash, recalling his stand and lost in thoughts, was the last to leave, joining the others in leaping single-file out a window into a nearby alley.
There, though everyone else seemed tensely uninvolved, the Black Angel’s motorcycle revved, and she stared down Worm as he safely stowed Tigran inside his Stand-body, leaning on his golden sword.
“There’s still something I need, Jones… I’ll run you down to get it if it means saving the city.”
Worm laughed, gesturing with his sword. “This thing? You’re huntin’ me down for this… Ah! I see! You’re tryin’ to do that.” Callously, he tossed it, so suddenly they fumbled with it in hand. “Here ya go, then! I don’t much want what Jack Aurel’s cookin’ up either!”
The Angel, worn and exhausted, stammered. “I… You just… But…”
“Lookin’ forward to killin’ me, huh? Get in line, kid… Or waste your time right now! See, nobody here is botherin’, they can all read that it’d be a waste when I’m in such good health! City’s countin’ on you, yeah, and you won’t get many opportunities for bein’ called a hero as an adult. Make it count!”
Then, before anyone could say more, he darted through a nearby wall, waving William and the rest off with a, “Ah, we safely may trust to its gleaming and be sure it will lead us aright!”
…
…
“Asshole.” The Angel turned away, strapping the sword to their back and driving away. “Thank you, all of you. I’ll take this from here… Get yourselves help.”
There was silence as they drove into the sky, scarf billowing before them, and then Agnes started cackling. “You’re all fucking morons… If I didn’t burn that place down, we wouldn’t have gotten away, and some wannabe with no style would be going down as Los Fortuna’s worst villain! Fucking bow and grovel, Jack Aurel’s grave is gonna say ‘spat on by Agnes!’”
Nobody had the energy to dignify that with a response.
An anticlimax is leading into a super-climax, and meanwhile, an ant-loving little boy and an aid worker are racing through their dreamscapes, with a day left to vote there.
Narration:
What is, as of the 1990s, ‘Capital Island,’ was the epicenter of Los Fortuna’s founding several hundred years ago, in the midst of a bloody Stand User conflict, many militias clashing for superiority, in the 1680s, starting with the death of the era’s own Andrew Tiffany, the missionary William Mandolin, and towards its end, knocking people into their senses through the awakening of exactly what he had tried to warn them of.
A grand T-Rex by the name of Megalomania had survived, dormant, underneath the land through the might of its Stand, coated in a goldlike substance, and awoken in a deep rage by the conflict of the locals. Megalomania was met in battle by a man out of place named Aaron Bruno, ‘Sir Aurel’ to most, and Memory Management, and when slain, crumbled where it stood into a pile of bones, feet firm in the ground.
Los Fortuna’s natural history museum was built around this monster’s remains, and Sir Aurel would turn its golden coat into a ceremonial weapon. The power these symbols were imbued with, even with their old purposes lost, were of great importance to the city’s stability.
Scenario:
Outside Los Fortuna’s Natural History Museum, Early Evening
In the blink of an eye, the attention of everyone within Los Fortuna had been turned to the natural history museum. That made sense, of course - considering the looming dark clouds containing the ghosts of the dead within them, the scuffles of the stand users outside of the building, and the vague knowledge that a ritual with the purpose of destroying fate itself was currently being performed within it, it would be out of the ordinary for people to not be paying it any attention. Even those who weren’t stand users that were up to date with the situation were drawn to it by the unusual level of activity surrounding it, from emergency services and VALKYRIE forces alike.
And then there was Bert. They were invested in the whole situation, of course - keeping up with the latest reality-breaking ancient rituals was the least that a wannabe god like them could do. Their status as an observer did raise a few eyebrows - they’d had to shake off both emergency service workers and VALKYRIE forces, who’d both taken the time to try and encourage Bert to leave the area for their own safety, clearly underestimating Bert’s own prowess.
Within the chaos, one could be excused for not failing to notice the drones Bert had been sending around to overhear and oversee it all. First, they paid attention to the chief of security at VALKYRIE, Ugo McBasie, who seemed to be getting interviewed by someone from the Fortuna Hermod, an ODIN-owned news publication (not their usual guy at scenes like this… Wonder what happened to him). Bert had heard that the man was a violent and irresponsible meathead who’d caused plenty of trouble in the past, but he seemed to be keeping a thin veil of professionalism for now. However, Bert couldn’t help but notice a young man in a blue aviator cap standing a few meters behind the reporter and staring daggers at him, perhaps keeping him in check somehow, occasionally piping in for comment about how it was all they could do to surround the place and wait for an opening if they didn’t want a meat grinder on their hands.
Meanwhile, Los Fortuna’s own city council chairman, Raymond Delwin Shimizu was discussing something of note with someone else, who seemed to have just finished an interview of his own. Bert didn’t recognize him, but the interviewer had called him “Chief Prosecutor Cavallo”, and she seemed as if she knew what she was talking about, so Bert opted to believe her. The interviewer, Jillian Something-or-other, had been running all over the scene, trying to get interviews alongside her oversized cameraman Bert recognized as having been that really huge cop who used to hang around Aurelio a lot of the time not successfully doing his job. Not worth Bert’s time.
Cavallo scratched his head in frustration. “Chairman, please tell me that you’ve made progress of some kind here...”
Ray shook his head. “Not much. That stand user that’s working alongside Jack Aurel, Akiko Mizushima, is making it impossible to get in - anyone we do send in is as good as gone. We haven’t even been able to get Admiral Pineapples out. Judging by your demeanor, I assume that the board hasn’t made much progress either.”
“No, doesn’t seem like it.” Cavallo let out a long sigh. “Every day, it’s just more and more work… Now we’re stuck having to deal with this. If nothing’s done, the board’s thinking it might very well cause a disaster unmatched by… Well, anything but the earthquake from thirty years ago. Something like this, bending the rules of the city, and breaking free from it… Los Fortuna’s probably not going to let that slide easily.” He shook his head. “Where the hell is the mayor through all this? Watching anime at home or something, probably.”
Ray remained silent for a bit, thinking to himself. “Well, we’ve got emergency services ready to act for now, and we’re working on evacuating any susceptible areas, but it only works so much.” Before Cavallo could respond, another reporter came up to Raymond, ready with a batch of questions for him. “Well, Cavallo, our work isn’t done yet, so let’s get to it. Saving as many people as possible here should be our utmost priority.” And with that, the two men parted ways for the time being.
Having listened enough, Bert began thinking to themselves. This was a tricky situation - they clearly couldn’t get in as is, but they certainly wanted to. Learning more about the situation at hand would improve their knowledge of the mechanisms holding Los Fortuna together, and gaining control over the ritual somehow would certainly be a feat befitting of a god such as them.
Bert stood in front of the museum entrance, taking another look at the chaos in front of them and continuing to think about the next step they’d take. So many different possibilities, so little time. They thought, and thought, and then one of their drones’ eyes glanced upon someone familiar - a blue haired, red eyed woman wearing a mask, trying to blend in and clearly resenting it, skulking around the perimeter of the area as though she, too, wished to enter.
Yet despite her efforts, Bert recognized her.
“Emilie ‘Dread’ Delacroix!” They declared it loudly, thoughtlessly so, approaching her with a hand raised. “Are you perhaps looking to find a crevasse through which to enter that place as well? It’s quite fortified, isn’t it?”
“Hm?” She wasn’t bothered by the way Bert drew attention to her, still wearing her same very extra outfit under the also quite extra hooded dark robe she was using to blend in. “Ah, pardon me dearly for having failed to notice you… You are Bert, from that incident where we fought on equal terms, yes?”
“I am that same Bert, Emilie ‘Dread’ Delacroix, yes. Though I doubt I could be much mistaken for others…”
“We are both quite conspicuous individuals, yes,” Dread said, taking the conversation into a nearby alley before VALKYRIE goons on the scene could prove it was her, “but no, I’m not terribly nonplussed about my abilities to infiltrate that place… Simply, I am attempting to assess the probability by which my approach itself, through the barricades erected, might occur. If your intentions happen to be helping me sneak through, then it is simply not necessary on any fronts… I have formulated a plan now.”
Dread, now appearing alone, walked through that alley curiously, looking around her and beginning to see her opportunity of approach - there appeared to be a side door there, at which a certain fish-themed hero was sitting outside, looking, Dread knew from their DMs, at funny images of her wife atop the T-Rex skull in the museum.
Yes, certainly, this would be-
“Whoa, hey, it’s you!”
Damnable. Had she been spotted, or..?
No, no, wait. The one speaking, a man also in this alleyway who smelled of cannabis, holding what looked like a GAP bag, was speaking to someone on the opposite side of it, disembarking from a sportbike and handing it to the rider, who was wearing a very ornate-looking golden sword which Dread had sworn she’d seen somewhere before.
“Thanks,” the Black Angel told this young man, accepting the bag and producing its contents - a Roman helmet and black bird-looking tokusatsu cosplay? “Green couldn’t make it himself, huh?”
“I made it,” the guy said, pointing proudly to himself, before blinking. “Oh, you mean like… Showing up. Yeah, no, there was a thing with a mammoth coming down from the mountains, he’s helping East deal with that. Feel like lighting up before you go in? It’ll take the edge off..!”
The rider removed their helmet, coincidentally perfectly timed for the strawberry-blonde with pale blue eyes to stare him down incredulously. “About a million people live on this island, Weedboy. Now is not the time…” The Angel ducked into the nearby building to change, finishing, “shit, yeah, it looks just like the Flying Men do… uh. you should get out of here now.”
“You kidding?” He asked. “I don’t wanna bow out right before it gets good! That’s, like, saying I think you can’t do it!”
Well, these two appeared distracted, so Dread would continue along her way, walking right past them and towards the blockade, towards where Jo was sitting casually, only to be interrupted by-
“Holy shit, it really is her! Stop right there, Dread!”
Oh boy, here we go. This had been happening more lately, since a somewhat frustrating individual went and opened his big mouth about her dangers on Bifrost. Turned out that the head of VALKYRIE was literally in the server, so now she had a bounty on her head after a modicum of investigation into her after that public statement, and her casual admittance thereof!
Two armored guards were pointing guns at her as she stood there, unfazed.
“Don’t come any closer!” One of them, an older woman, said, turning to her younger partner and quickly telling him, “if she approaches, open fire. She’ll eat you alive if not!”
“This again, are you being serious?” Dread was less than pleased. “I am evil, and a murderer, unrepentantly so, yes, but I do not eat people. This rumor is being so blown out of proportion that I find it quite tiresome.”
“F-fuck off and die!” The younger moved to fire his weapon, only to realize there was a knife through him, catching the gun by the trigger after running from his shoulderblade to his fingertip.
Dread didn’t need the help, but like a true friend, Kimijo Kaneko offered it anyway
“Wh-what the-” The older woman cursed as her partner was cut open and dropped. “Fucking useless moron! HEY, EVERYONE, KANEKO BROKE RANK AND DREAD IS HERE TO! NOW’S OUR CHANCE TO-”
The distraction, then, was all it took for Dread to take her first kill of the day. Of course it was fine. She read the news, she knew how these VALKYRIE people were literally at war with poor people.
“Sh-shit, those people just died! More VALKYRIE corpses, and Jo again..!” The stoner declared in the background, and the Black Angel, now dressed exactly like the birdmen many had seen before, paused in her efforts to run past the opening created by Jo breaking formation.
Nobody could hear it or see her lips move, but she apologized under her breath, clenching her fist, but the disguise had worked. 32 Footsteps, the primary guard which would warp away anyone who tried to enter, apparently had instructions to allow in anybody dressed like this, yet none of the intended recipients of this deliberate loophole made their way in.
“Dread, hello, friend!” Jo exclaimed in high spirits, sheathing her knife, but still speaking quietly as she hurried back into place, “good to see you!”
“Yes, it is most certainly fortuitous for us to encounter one another…” Dread agreed, walking and talking with her as the pair were watched in horror. “By any chance, may I come into this museum? I am absolutely curiously intrigued by what is going on within here…”
“Sure!”
A VALKYRIE sniper was taking aim at Dread, then, as she entered, muttering under her breath, “got a shot lined up… I can take her out, and Jo a second later! Two bastards out of the way, at least, and-”
“Wait,” the youth in a blue aviator hat and goggles, speaking as VALKYRIE’s tactician, instructed, “hold your fire.”
“Sir, she just made one of our senior officers fall into rotten pieces! She’s chatting it up with this fish-bitch like it’s nothing!”
“I know, and I’m appalled too, but I think…” The Blue Kid paused, contemplatively. “No, I know it. Dread is here to defeat John Aurel, just like the Black Angel.”
Spinning and pivoting through the air, “Lou” Reed, dressed like a dark, sixth Flying Man, landed atop the skull of the t-rex, which had apparently been adorned in a cute little pirate hat. It made for a fine vantage point, then, to look all over the halls of the Natural History museum, noting one, two, three, four spots, grotesque and morbid statues Remix had apparently erected of ghostly abominations.
She was exhausted, injured from the three-way skirmish she, Metra, and Oh No had been forced to undergo and riding like hell to get here, but she had made it this far, and others had managed to get in too. She couldn’t choke now.
Seven minutes… I’ll just have to destroy those, and be back here in seven minutes. Easy enough… I don’t think I’ve been-
“Green, Orange, and Purple… I don’t believe a ‘Flying Man Black’ was ever mentioned, nor that any of the brothers were into swords.”
Shit. That voice, too… Lou turned around, then, seeing someone standing behind her, a man with long dark hair, brandishing a hammer and looking up at her.
John “Jack” Aurel.
“Even if you are what you appear to be and not in disguise, you should realize that you aren’t welcome here. There’s nothing to be done in this museum worth dying for, and no way to accomplish any more foolish goal if I were to raise attention now. Care to waste some of the time you have left and explain?”
Of course this would happen. Lou removed her faux-beak, helmet, and goggles, staring down at him as her hair billowed in the ceiling fans’ wind. “Jack… I’ve come here to put a stop to this.”
“You’re that kid who’s always running around, huh?” Jack frowned, twirling his hammer. “I hear what you talk about through the grapevine… About how we’re all victims of fate, forced against each other by Gravity. That Stand Users are always going to be molded by this… You understand it too. You understand that people like us prey upon the weak, that it’s in our natures and our place in the world. I want to remove myself from that… Remove these people from that, and atone for what I’ve done.”
“By killing even more people! There’s no way they’ll get everyone away from your blast radius, and you haven’t even given them the chance to!” Lou protested. “It doesn’t have to be this way… Don’t say this is how it has to be! We can save this place, free everyone from gravity, without barreling towards its destruction! I don’t want to kill you, Jack. I want you to stop this crazy, self-indulgent crap and help me do something real!”
“You think everyone deserves this? That Stand Users will simply reform without this? The cycle has started, and it will push to the end even if the wave guiding it fades away completely… Bastards, the lot of us, and I don’t intend to run from what I’ve done. I’ll give you one chance to run away, kid… the worst I can call you is naive.”
Lou drew the golden blade, seeing Jack wince as he clearly recognized its significance, all as her Stand appeared behind her. “We both know I can’t do that, even if I can barely keep my balance up here. And hey, maybe I will die here… Maybe I am fated not to see this through. But then, someone is gonna finish this for me! Your security is already compromised!”
“Fascinating… And you are utterly convinced that, should it work, those he’s slain to commence this ritual to begin with will return outside the city?”
“Remix is full of himself,” Jo said, nodding quietly, “but he and Jack, they researched a lot… Akiko and I, for helping this finish, we can finally go home! Be done with the bad city…”
“She has made this place remarkably impregnable,” Dread agreed, thinking aloud, “anyone who waltzes in waltzes into her backrooms…”
“Unless they have a ‘pass!’” A voice from within Dread’s cloak spoke, and as Jo raised her knife at it in defense, the pure-white, terribly contorted form of Bert tumbled onto the ground, stretching and reshaping into their typical humanlike shape.
“Don’t worry, don’t worry, they are fine, with me!” Dread assured Jo, frankly thankful to have that weight literally off her back. Bert was very light, but even then it was hard to walk carrying someone, let alone not give it away. “We have… Some history, and so I thought I might as well indulge Bert’s request to see this place as well. I apologize for not mentioning earlier, but it was quite dire getting in here past guards attacking us.”
Jo didn’t seem to mind, continuing to lead the pair around, even passing Akiko who was casually, distractedly reading some manga while in a bit of a pirate mood.
They also passed by another scene, slightly more concerning, of an injured old man in a Hawaiian Shirt, close by the frontmost entrance of the place and clutching himself as his fleet of four Stand-starships remaining fired at Remix, who guarded against it with ghost-objects while a Flying Man Red tried to find an opening to strike.
“You’ve been at this for hours, old man, die already! You have no place in the world I mean to birth from your bloodied, pulped remains!”
Pineapples stood, then, leaning against the wall, trying not to show weakness.
“I think that guy is going to lose, at this rate… It’s a shame, too,” Bert, the loudmouth again, remarked. “He might have been a worthwhile pawn in wrestling control away from this operation.”
Dread, Jo, Remix, and Red all gave Bert simultaneous incredulous looks, all in completely unique ways.
Jo drew her knife again, about to transform, only to dodge out of the way of the injured ‘Lou’ Reed, blacked out, helmetless, being knocked away and into the floor, the shock of which made her rise quickly, feeling around. “Where’s the- Shit!” As she sat up, then, feeling around for the saber no longer in her possession, she noticed that she was smack in the middle of something else here.
Hurriedly, she rolled away, standing herself up and looking to the injured Admiral. “You… You’re one of those MFAs, right? How did you-?”
Weakly, he gestured to Remix. “He brought me here in a damned urn! I’ve been fending them off to buy others in the museum time to escape… Everyone in this hall here and Jack, those are the only ones left in the building, minus masses and masses of ghosts. They’re harmless, though… Don’t worry about them attacking unless that guy takes them.”
“I see…” Lou, then, smiled sadly, clutching her bloodied suit. She looked to Bert and Dread, then, moving to get between them and Jack’s incredulous accomplices. “You said you wanted to take him out, right? I overheard…”
“Well, Bert has let yet another cat out of the bag,” Dread admitted, “indeed, I came here with the intent of dethroning Jack Aurel before he had a chance to complete his little ritual. Few others would even be able to get in here.”
“So that’s my role, then…” Lou smiled, then, sighing, ducking out of the way of the Flying Man sending a kick her way, a gauntlet-clad arm emerging from her body, grabbing his ankle hard, and swinging him into the Jo who was shocked to hear Dread say that. “I can’t do anything about Jack… Too fucked up from that ED match…” She grinned, then, mouth bleeding as she stared Remix down. “But this old man and I can at least keep these assholes from interfering!”
Dread, then, watched passively as the five erupted into battle, she and Bert curious about what was to come as, from each hand, the Stand which emerged seemed to fire odd projectiles at their foes. “The ‘I’ll hold them off…’ You’re styling yourself as some sort of exceptional hero, aren’t you?” She seemed amused by that, the irony of their cooperation. “I’m evil, you know… And Bert, at least, is morally ambiguous. But if you’ve settled on putting the city in our hands, have you any advice?”
Over the sounds of laser fire, Lou quickly found time to answer, “yeah, there’s… I brought this golden ‘saber’ with me, and it must’ve fallen somewhere by the T-Rex… In, in a bit over six minutes from now, this ritual of theirs is gonna go through and rip this island open. Before that… They have these ‘failsafe’ statue things, and…” She took a breath, retracting and wincing from a blow her Stand had taken. “Look, I don’t have time to explain it, but you need to smash those up first! They’re there, made up of spirits fused together, to keep these guys safe from the consequences of their own actions… To ensure their safety, and at the same time act as a ‘failsafe’ for the ritual. Gives you the ‘power’ over it, too, in the way that right now Jack himself does… That’s important to stopping it. So you need to smash them first, and then, right as the time passes for the ritual, when the skull of the T-Rex in the center starts to split open and glow and its mouth starts gushing water… Embed the sword into the opening in its forehead, right as it starts to shape. That’s the only way to prevent this at this stage!”
“The forehead particularly, hmm?” Bert asked, pacing curiously and avoiding a cross split attack from Red, who barreled into Lou and was barely blocked. “Why there, per se? Why nowhere else on the thing?”
“Ngh..!” Lou grunted, saved from a follow-up by Pineapples. “I dunno, that’s just where you have to do it!”
“Black Angel… That’s what you’re called, yes?” Dread smiled, turning away. “You will be thanked for this victory… Try to live long enough to witness it firsthand, won’t you?”
“I’d… I’d love to,” Lou answered, smiling sadly, “for five years now, when I first learned there was anything worth a damn in this world, I’ve wanted to protect that… The dark pit of despair that was the first thirteen years of my life, and even so much since, I’d love nothing more than a world where no person is fated beyond impossible odds to suffer that.” She grew serious, then, raising her voice. “Go, now! Leave this to us!”
Bert and Dread approached the T-Rex, impressed at the amazing height and Akiko’s snazzy pirate duds upon the thing, the lab-grown being whistling with impression. “A T-Rex lived ‘til three-hundred years ago… Preserved whole, in this city. It’s astonishing, isn’t it, Emilie ‘Dread’ Delacroix?”
“A curious anomaly,” Dread agreed, examining it from afar, even noticing that alleged sword in the distance. “I wonder why it survived that long, so far after its brethren…”
“It’s because it was a ‘Stand User.’”
Jack approached from the same room in which Dread spotted glints of the golden saber, announcing his presence with that. “That was its ‘fate…’ A savage, cunning animal, ripped from where it belonged. to be a problem to solve and squabble over, to found this city on its literal bones.”
“John ‘Jack’ Aurel… You’d best stand down.” Bert, helpfully, started. “You cannot beat us… Even if we only had seconds to overcome you, I would be too much for you to handle!”
“No, he’s going to fight, I know it.” Dread, meanwhile, prepared Joywave, staring him down with a pointed, grinning lethality. “I suppose introductions are not necessary, with how Bert here loves to say my full name… I am not one to make things curt or brief, John, but consider yourself toppled, usurped, bloodied and dead.”
“The lab accident with a God complex and by far the worst, most grisly of Jo’s friends…” With no real amusement, no happiness in his eyes, Jack chuckled, looking them over. “Of course, right at the end, my final test isn’t some hero… It’s exactly the worst kind of Stand User! The apex predators that I’ve preyed upon, that stand in the way of saving everyone who’s died to reach this point! Of course it would be someone like me to gain entry, wouldn’t it?”
“You speak with such confidence you’ll raise the dead…” Bert was curious. “Even if it costs more lives, such a thing is… That is the realm of gods, John ‘Jack’ Aurel.”
“Not today it’s not,” Jack answered, twirling his hammer in his hand. “Both of you… You’ve been driven here, standing in my way, as agents of ‘fate’ itself. Isn’t that the reason you were ‘lucky’ enough to pass through our defenses… Because you were meant to stand here, and you were meant to watch as every horrible, cruel thing you’ve done amounts to nothing in the face of these circumstances.”
He looks the two intruders over with sympathy for a moment, before steeling himself and clenching his weapon, Stand appearing behind him just as stone-faced. “You may be the puppet of something beyond your control, but you must understand that I can’t let you ruin the plan I’ve bet my life on. I bear you no anger as people, but your role here is something I can’t ignore. I’ll waste our time no longer in arguing ethics, let there be no apologies or restraint until this is settled.”
The other conspirators had been instructed not to intervene if it came to this point, even if it risked the collapse of everything they had worked for. Not if it threatened lives. An enemy to make it this far was deserving of being dealt with reasonably. As the critical moment drew near, Jack readied all the fury that months of waiting had stored within him, and accepted that this may very well be his final true fight.
“Five minutes on the dot now, until ‘that time…’ If what the Black Angel said is true.” Dread looked to Bert. “What do you say we demonstrate incontrovertibly to John exactly how confused he truly is?”
OPEN THE GAME!
(Image credit to CaptainSpooky27!)
Location: A part of the Los Fortuna’s Natural History Museum. The area here is 75 by 75 meters with each tile being 5 by 5 meters. The ceilings here are 8 meters tall. The yellow tiles are the hallways and the green and purple tiles form the different rooms.
The white tiles have ritual shrines built on those areas. There are 7 shrines total and will be explained in further detail in the additional information.
The players start at the south of the map and Jack starts at the top of the map as represented by their tokens. The walls are represented by thicker borders and the dotted lines are the doorways.
At the top of the map, in the pink tile and yellow symbols, is the Golden Sword. It is currently pinned under 2 meters of rubble.
Each wing of the museum houses an exhibit, in the center is the main attraction a large T-Rex in display as denoted by the large grey circle.
The other exhibits are denoted by the letter on them:

G: The geologic exhibit, displaying and teaching about different rock formations and types
O: The two Oceanic exhibits, displaying the marine life and seabed of Los Fortuna.
C: The climatography exhibit, displaying the different temperature maps and features across Los Fortuna.
A: The Agricultural exhibit, displaying the various fruits and crops grown around Los Fortuna.
T: The two Taxidermy exhibits, displaying a wide range of animals in roped off and glass displays.
E:The Entomology exhibit, displaying photos and models of various bugs.

Goal: For the players, desecrate all the shrines and, when time runs out, have at least one of you, living and conscious, at the T-Rex with the golden sword in hand! For Jack, make sure the players don’t stop your ritual before it goes off!
The match will last exactly five minutes, unless of course players are dead before then. It doesn’t end just because players reach the goal.
Additional Information:
The shrines are 2 meter tall marked wood and metal structures, each having an strange carve effigy sitting in the center of them. In order to properly desecrate a shrine the players can do one of a few things, destroy the shrine outright, deface all the carvings made into the shrine, or destroy the effigy hidden within the shrine.
After destroying or defacing a shrine, the ghosts of the dead will begin harassing the players - three ghosts will move towards the player responsible for destroying the shrine (even in a situation where the stands are responsible: the ghosts will target Bert if a Perfect Hair minion destroys a shrine, and same for if anything affected by Joywave does so). These aren't strong, having flat 222 physicals and being partially see-through, but will increase in numbers as more and more shrines are destroyed. Strong enough hits can phase them out of existence, but they'll respawn ten seconds after at the spot that they previously were. They will go directly towards the players and can phase through any walls or objects that may be in their paths (but not out of any attacks), grabbing onto the players and trying to gang up on them once they're close enough to do so, dealing minor damage.

Team	Combatant	JoJolity
Red Carpet Rennaisance	Emilie "Dread" Delacroix	"Wow! It's a hand drawn original color illustration!" You’re a cultured woman, and this museum might very well end up being wiped off of the face of the earth quite soon, so you need to make the most of it while you still can! Make sure to visit and appreciate the various exhibits on display here! (Character Specific)
Suburban Regalia	Bert	"What a terrible person. If I wrote about someone like you, none of my readers would like it." So this man is playing at god, trying to control life, death, and fate themselves? What foolishness! Clearly, only you can do such things, and you do them best! Over the course of the strategy, prove your superiority to this “Jack Aurel“ and take him down a notch! (Character Specific)
???	Jack Aurel	"Where the hell did you go?! Come out, you fucker!" It's now or never. This is the culmination of all of your plans, and failing is absolutely not an option here. During the fight, hold nothing back, and make sure to thoroughly defeat your opponents so that no one and nothing will ever stand in your way again!

(Jack sheet plain text version)
Link to the Official Player Spreadsheet
Link to Match Schedule
As always, if you would like to interact with the tournament community and be among the first to get updates for the tournament, please feel free to PM a member of our Judge staff for an invite to our Official Discord Server!

State of Origin Game 2 2019 – QLD & NSW The Complete Betting Preview By: Ken Edwards After a cracking State of Origin Game 1, where the mighty Queensland Maroons overcame a 8-0 halftime deficit to emerge victorious 18-14, State of Origin makes its debut in Western Australia at Perth’s Optus Stadium. State of Origin Odds & Betting. State of Origin betting provides fans with lots of chances to support their state and get behind the game’s best NRL players at representative level. There are State of Origin odds offered on everything from the overall series winners to the Wally Lewis Medal winner awarded to the best player of the season. NRL Top 10 State of Origin Moments . By Paul Barbieri - 24 May 2019 . Queensland will look to take back State of Origin bragging rights when the series kicks off again on June 5. It's sure to be another hotly-contested three matches after New South Wales snapped a run of three straight Maroons' wins when they took out the 2018 series 2-1. The State of Origin series between New South Wales and Queensland is one of the most anticipated sporting events of the year and attracts a lot of interest when it comes to betting. The three-game series between the two sides is always one of the most watched television events each year. State of Origin 2020 Series Correct Score. NSW 3-0. 2.30

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[OT] Ten Months ago I responded to a prompt about wandering into a cave and finding a world with tamable monsters. Today, Into the Tall Grass is a published novel!