Hey everyone, I’ve been on a hunt for some women’s low top leather shoes. I loved my Ecco’s soft 7 because I was able to wear it all day and be comfortable walking everywhere but it doesn’t fit me anymore and I don’t like how you can’t clean the bottom of those. I’ve been looking at Thursday Boot Low Top but I’m wondering what else is out there with the same price range? I’m in the US.

Hello! I've been looking for some information on some fast and effective ways of cleaning Silicone molds and figured this would be the best place to ask. Apologies if it's not appropriate here.
Essentially, I have Silicone molds which I pour concrete into. Since my concrete is pigmented, I wash my molds in between batches. This also ensures that any debris left behind is cleaned up. I use Distilled water to wash them to not leave any salt residue.
The problem is that this can take a while, as I wash them each by hand and dry them with paper towels.
I have considered using an ultrasonic cleaner, however, I'm not sure of it's effectiveness, and it's a bit expensive. (for the larger ones) This would still require me to use paper towels to dry them but if it cuts down on the wash time at least it would help.
Does anyone have any advice or tips on how to improve the process of washing + drying of the molds? If you use an ultrasonic cleaner, is it effective?
And again, I recognize it's not about mold making, but I assume you guys would be the experts when it comes to caring for silicone molds.
Thanks!!

I have a VERY tiny dab straw, tried to clean it (wasn’t planning on saving the reclaim) and now I have 3 tooth picks stuck inside, how do I get them out so I can dab lmao, it’s been like 2 weeks

I’m 5 days clean in an hour. I can’t think about anything else except how I want to go get my box cutter and go to town on my (now slightly healed) thighs.
I know progress isn’t linear but damn… how was I 3 years clean? I feel pathetic

What would you like to accomplish?

I would like to not have to constantly provide printer support to my early 80s parents.

Are there any models you are currently looking at?

Sorry I don't know the actual models. There aren't any that I'm looking at but they had an HP all-in-one and between the ink situation and wifi issues it would work when I would fix it and then wouldn't when they needed to print later.
They also have a Canon all-in-one that would never, ever stay connected to wifi (I had to reinstall everything every time but then it would just stop in the next day or three) so I direct connected it to one of their computers ("Just send it to Mom's computer and print from there") but that's also apparently a problem.

More Details:

Questions	Answers
Budget:	There is literally no limit to the amount of money I would pay to be able to not have to deal with the slew of calls and texts saying "We can't print our medications and we have a doctor's appt tomorrow, this is a massive emergency!" several times a month
Country:	USA
Color or black and white:	I'd like to say black and white but I'm not sure if their occasional cruises/luggage tags require color
Laser or ink printer:	Whatever will work
New or used:	whatever will work
Multi-function:	They do seem to need to occasionally copy/scan stuff. No fax.
Duplex Printing:	Nope
Home or business:	Home
Printing content:	Mostly recipes from websites/LibreOffice, stuff for doctor's appts, or cruise luggage tags
Printing frequency:	several times a month (but why they can't reuse what they just printed for one doctor for the other is beyond me)
Pages per minute :	any
Page size:	usually standard 8.5x11
Device printing from:	PC
Connection type:	Wifi never seems to work for them (or rather keep working for any length of time after I connect it) but yeah ideally wifi.

Any other details:

I think I've described the situation but I'm absolutely happy to answer any questions/provide more info though Im not sure how much more there could be.
Please help me.

For context I am a 20 female who lives at home with my parents however I pay to live in this house a substantial amount of money. My grandmas husband recently past away and she's decided she wants to stay at my parents house more often the problem is we do not have a spare room meaning she would have to stay in my room with a bed in. Some weeks stay with my boyfriend and my parents offered up my room to her when I'm away, my problems with this are.
I have OCD the type where I cry over other people touching things belonging to me. I will excessively clean my phone and clean bathrooms almost every time I use them, even when I stay at my boyfriends house I sometimes become overwhelmed because of re-washing every plate or cup I come into contact with. I was constantly sick as a child and have a big fear of germs after almost passing away as a child, I barely let my own parents in my room and my boyfriend showers and even then I am sceptical about him in my room. The thought of someone sleeping in my room touching my things makes me physically ill and knowing I'd having to clean this all after she stays every time is so stressful to me, I have been known to breakdown over this. although I am trying to work on this I don't think I should have to give up my room for someone else despite it been a family member when I will have to clean up after them.
Some important factors include: My grandma has a home with a spare bedroom in where my parents could stay but they don't want to sleep elsewhere. I posted this earlier and people suggested I literally move out of a home I pay to live in for her to stay here. Some even suggested I move into my grandmas home which is literally insane as she lives further from my university then I already do (it's an hour and half commute already).
Another important factor: My grandma has others she stays with and she comes over to my house a lot at the moment anyways just doesn't stay over.
Another important factor: if she was to stay over and I wanted to come home I would then be left with no room to stay in. There has been times I have became depressed whilst been at my boyfriends and had to go home in the middle of the night as I struggle quite badly with my mental health. My room is my safe space. Anyways I told my mum and dad that I do not feel okay giving up my room to another person and not been able to come home if she stays, my parents seemed disappointed with me however agreed they wouldn't let her have my room as I pay for it.
However things have became slightly awkward between me and my parents now despite them knowing about my OCD and how anxious I feel about others in my room. My parents even asked for her to stay over in my room on my own birthday so I wouldn't be able to stay over in my own room on my birthday. I again said no.
My parents could happily buy a blow up bed for another room in the house by the way they just don't want to spend the money. We even have other bedrooms just with no beds in but they won't but a spare bed. I can not afford a bed for another room as I am a student.
To all the Redditor's that told me I should move into my grandmas house so I could let my grandma have my room you are crazy. I may be selfish but this is my one space that is mine that my parents was so quickly ready to give to another person. I spoke to my other siblings who do not live at home and they agree with me however my parents don't.
Any questions I will update here.

is it a relationship killer?
I’ve been with my boyfriend for nearly a year and he is great in so many aspects. I have something I need some advice on though. Is this a yellow/red flag OR just my own insecurities?
My boyfriend and I met at the gym. He’s in SIGNIFICANTLY better shape than I am as he’s been a “gym rat” for like 5+ years where as I’ve only be goin at it for about a year. For a few months, he was posting on his personal Instagram about him posing (fitness wise) and like how influencers do but not trying to post workouts. But he also has a small business and wanted to focus on growing that more instead. So he ditched the physique posing and fitness posting and started posting more of his small business stuff. (Videography and photography).
He will post about me on his business page as he will take photos and videos of the quality that go on there. But NEVER on his personal page. (Which he’s still active on bc he posts on his story of his animals, hobbies, etc). ^ this bothers me. Because I feel like he’s not proud to post about me in his personal stuff and only posts about me on his other page bc it’s with his equipment and does in turn promote his business.
Another thing is is while he’s been at this fitness stuff he does follow A LOT of fitness influencers and “models”. Which the actual influencers I don’t care about but the “models” I do because they post provocative and sexual shit and that’s just annoying to me. I confronted him about this and told him exactly that ^ and asked him what was so special that he wanted to follow them even after getting in to a committed relationship. He said “I appreciate their work ethic and the hard work they put in to their bodies.” Which - ??? I expressed my discomfort with it afterwards. And he didn’t unfollow them and I don’t know. It rubs me the wrong way. I had a friend who he expressed discomfort with and after we became a couple I spoke about him and he actually raised his voice at me and said “I don’t get why you’re still fucking friends with him”. So I set boundaries on being spoken to like that but did take it and implied it.
I just don’t ask for much - he moved in with me after a really bad situation that happened to him a few months ago and doesn’t help with rent, splits half of the groceries, and seldomly helps with the utilities. He will help clean and will cook but he does work full time as well and makes well money. I make a smidge more but I am always strapped due to medical bills as well as paying over $2.5k in household bills while he pays maybe $300 a month to our household stuff. I barely ask for him to help money wise but am always upset due to budgeting.
So I just feel like a social media tift is the bare minimum to help in our relationship when I don’t really complain about bigger things.

Hello,
I need to share my story and get some advice because I'm in a really bad situation after moving into a flat with my friend. It's turned into a complete disaster, and I'm filled with regret and confusion.
A few months ago, my friend and I decided to find a flat together. We discussed our budget and found a decent place.The flat needed some minor repairs and cleaning. It was a 2bhk with ACs, a washing machine, and a gas stove already installed. We thought it was good enough, so we finalized the flat and told the broker we'd move in within a month, expecting the necessary repairs to be done.
But as the moving day approached, the flat was still not ready. No repairs had been made, and we were furious with the broker for not taking care of it. We demanded that he gets everything fixed as soon as possible. Then, my friend's boyfriend visited the flat and made it clear that he didn't like it at all. He even said he wouldn't come to visit her if she lived there. This made my friend lose her shit.
Instead of discussing it with me, she secretly went to the broker and asked to see another flat. She found one, and started pestering to move there. The problem was, the new flat was way above my budget and didn't have all the amenities like the first one. It had an AC only in one room (it gets very hot where we live) and no washing machine or gas stove. I refused to move there, but she kept pushing me and trying to convince me. I even brought up losing the brokerage money I paid, which was a lot. I stood my ground and said no.
One day, when I was busy, I asked my friend to go to our first flat and check if the repairs were finally done. Normally, I was the one handling all the communication with the broker, but I needed her help this time as I was swamped with work. To my surprise, shortly after her visit, the broker called me and informed me that he wouldn't rent the flat to us. He felt disrespected due to a fight my friend had with him, during which she declared that we wouldn't be living there anymore. I was furious with my friend for making such a decision without consulting me.
She kept saying we had another option and not to worry. But I was angry and told her that if she didn't like the first flat, she could leave, and I would find something else for myself. She started saying she wanted to live with me and would accept whatever decision I made. I told her to take some time to think about it and if she really didn't want to live in the first flat, she shouldn't force herself. But she insisted she wanted to live with me.
I agreed to talk to the broker and somehow managed to convince him to let us live in the flat, even though he was furious and cursed both me and my friend. I felt both angry and helpless at that moment. The next morning, my friend texted me yet again saying she had changed her mind and didn't want to live in that flat anymore. I was losing my mind by this point.
Adding to the chaos, she involved her mother and asked her to call my parents and convince them that the first flat was unsafe. My parents, being concerned for my safety, started pressuring me to move to the new place. I didn't want them to worry or burden them financially. I was angry at my friend for putting me in this situation.
Since I was short on money, my friend offered that she would bear the cost of the AC if i shift into the new flat with her. Initially, i refused and started looking for other places but then i couldn't find one soon enough. My current flat owner was also asking me to move out asap. Exhausted mentally and emotionally from all the drama, I eventually accepted my friend's offer to contribute to the cost of installing an AC in my room.The first few months were okay, but when the time came to install an AC in my room, my friend started going back on her promise. She thought I would eventually forget and share the cost of the AC, but I didn't back down. She continued to complain and gossip about me to our friends saying nasty things like how I was trying to force her into paying for my AC.
To make matters worse, she invited her cousin to stay in our flat without even consulting me. Now the living room and kitchen are cluttered with her cousin's belongings. I only found out from her cousin that she would be staying for a month.
I feel used and manipulated, like I was just a tool for my friend to achieve her own ends. It's especially hurtful because we had a five-year friendship. I'm hurt and confused, and some of our mutual friends are blaming me for accepting my friend's offer to contribute to the AC installation. I'm seriously considering cutting ties with her, but I'd appreciate your thoughts and advice.

Maybe I just don't understand them... but how does squirting water at your shitty butthole clean it? Washing your hands you have to rub them together to get the dirt off... are you all rubbing your poopy arse with your hands and a bit of water?
Everyone was going on about how they haven't used toilet paper in years since switching to a bidet.... so do you all have arse towels? Do you share? Or do you all just drip dry?
Don't get me wrong... I do have a bidet and I use it on occassion but I just end up using the same amount of toilet paper to actually get rid of the piss and poop (because as mentioned earlier, splashing a bit of water does nothing) and then dry myself after...
Yes toilet paper sucks too but I don't get the superiority complex you all have about bidets...

(Pt. 1) An additional thanks to u/An_Insufferable_NEWT for letting me borrow one of his characters.
...And now for the conclusion.
​
= = =
​
Evelra swore. They had come here to uplift humanity from barbarism, not let the powers that be enable humanity’s worst elements while the selfsame Noble cunts indulged in their own pubescent masturbatory power fantasies. Fuck this. She thought to herself with a growl and flicked her comms channel to all units.
​
“All forces, this is Captain Evelra. The goddess-damned governess’s private militia have opened fire on the civies. Arrest those brother-fucking [bastards] on sight before they can fuck this mess up any further!” She barked over the comms, a bit of local English slipping into her words. She couldn’t call them stiffs; the latter had more class than this.
​
“Capt, we’ve got three APCs in militia markings barreling down the road in front of the Governess’s mansion from the west. ETA 30 seconds. This is about to get messy.” Prex’s voice cut in with a false calm lent by years of experience.
​
Evelra could feel the material of her suit creak as her hands briefly tightened into hardened fists. “All west side Pods converge on Pod 7, support Lieutenant Eleynor. Eastern Pods, evac the civies. And Prex? Keep the late arrivals occupied. Don’t let these fuckers get another shot off.” She growled, her Second giving a brief click of acknowledgement over the comms before switching channels to give orders of her own.
​
Turning back to face Isaiah, Evelra reached a hand down to grab the elder by his medical exoskeleton and hoisted him to his feet. “Looks like the Governess ran out of patience. Get your people out of here, we’ll deal with this.” She explained brusquely, jabbing one finger towards the eastern side of the boulevard. She could apologize for womanhandling him later, right now every second counted.
​
The moment she was sure he had his feet under him, the marine captain let go and tried to move on Eleynor’s position with all due haste. “Out of the way! MOVE!” Evelra shouted as she strode forward, the sea of humans doing their best to get out of her path. Already, people were starting to scramble as panic spread like wildfire. She could hear the cries of terror and confusion all around her; shouted orders from the protest organizers and her own marines were almost inaudible against the din as they tried to control the chaos.
​
As she neared pod 7’s position, a horrifying scene unfolded before her. In the shadow of the buildings, at least a dozen of the protesters were currently on fire. Harsh yellow and orange flames rose from the flailing figures to form hazy gray clouds of smoke that hung heavy in the air. Even more humans were covered in burn marks and charred clothes. One woman just sat there, trembling and numb from shock as she stared her bloody arm; the melted remains of her synthetic shirt peeling away with boiled skin. Amidst the chaos, the other protesters were doing everything from trying to help the wounded and burning to running in panic and terror; the latter creating a solid wave of bodies in front of Evelra as they stumbled over one another to flee the danger.
​
From out of sight, she saw one of the Governess’ militia-kitted thugs go flying; only to watch them get back up and charge in to fight whom Evelra assumed to be Pod 7. Shil’vati might be stronger, but when equally equipped, outnumbered and against human reflexes she knew that fight wasn’t going to end well for her girls if the rest of the western Pods didn’t reach them soon. Then, one of the militiamen stepped forward towards the crowd.
​
As he strode boldly through the mayhem, Evelra could only watch while one of the protesters tried to confront him; the tide of humans preventing the marine captain from intervening. Inaudible words were exchanged, the protester shouting something as they gesticulated wildly. The Governess’ thug merely responded with two swift strikes of his rifle butt, first to the gut, then to the back of the head, the other man dropping like an anchor. In the distance, out of the corner of her eye, she numbly noted that the rest of the governess’ thugs had arrived and were using their APCs as cover between them and the Pods under Prexith’s command.
​
Evelra felt her gut sink as the militiamen shouldered his rifle once more, stepping out of the building’s shadow to take aim at the crowd. “EVERYBODY DOWN!” The marine captain roared as she planted her feet and pulled her sidearm in one smooth, practiced motion. Drawing a bead on the Governess’ thug, the panicked crowd tried to clear out of her way; but there were just too many people. She wasn’t going to make it in time. No, no more. Not-
​
The militiaman’s head disappeared.
​
A split second later, the now infamously familiar thunderous crack and echoing roar of a large bore human chemical ballistic rifle rolled over them as the corpse spasmed on its feet; a shockwave visibly rippling through the suit it was wearing. “SNIPER!” Somebody bellowed. It might have been her, but in that moment she honestly couldn’t tell. As the headless body crumpled to the ground in a fountain of red, the same gun roared out again… and again. In the distance she could see two sudden sprays of red splatter up the sides of the Militia APCs, one right after the other.
​
The echoes of gunfire galvanized the crowd into a further panic, a stampede of human protesters slamming into Evelra in their attempt to get away from the violence. For a moment, the marine captain thought she was going to get dragged under by the wave, but then they rolled past her, leaving her staggering into the clear. With the screaming of the crowd now behind her and her ears still ringing from gunshots it was oddly quiet once more, save for the groans of the wounded.
​
Not letting herself fall into the lull, Evelra kept moving forward only to nearly gag at the smell as she approached the corner of the building. Like a Blue Grail left in the summer sun for a week, the air was heavy with a putrid smoke, reminiscent of the scent of death itself. Quickly sealing her helmet, she took a shuddering breath of fresh air before looking up just in time to see a pair of the Governess’s thugs get bodily tackled into the pavement by Eleynor. The rest of treasonous Militia were either surrendering or trying to run like the Deep-Minder itself was behind them as more Marine Pods came charging around nearby street corners.
​
Watching the last treasonous bastards eat pavement, the marine captain strode up to the Militaman’s corpse and picked up his blood-stained rifle. Quickly turning the weapon over in her hands, Evelra took one look at its settings and nearly threw the gun away in disgust. Medium power, maximum dispersal. Against even the most basic of modern armor, such settings would be practically useless; but would make for a decent, if imprecise, fire starter. Which is exactly what they’d done. Of course, leave it to the humans to figure out how to turn the most basic of weapons into a tool of terror. She thought bitterly, adjusting the beam spread back to something more logical before strapping it’s sling to her harness.
​
Now properly armed for anything else the Deep-Minder might decide to throw at her, Evelra flicked open her wrist-mounted omnipad, the integrated AR display in her helmet seamlessly linking to it. A couple quick taps later and the captain had an outgoing call. As the phone line rang in her ear, she tried not to tap her foot, every second feeling like ten.
​
“911, what’s your emer-”
​
Before the woman on the other end could even finish her sentence, Evelra interrupted her. “This is Captain Evelra of the Imperial Marines, 4032nd company. We have at least a dozen, I repeat, at least a dozen critically injured burn victims at the corner of 3rd and Main. I need emergency Medivac for the critically wounded.” She barked into the mic.
​
There was a momentary pause on the other end accompanied by the sounds of a physical keyboard before shortly being followed by a muffled “Fuck.” Evelra shifted impatiently as one second dragged into the next. “Is something the matter?” The marine growled.
​
“Ahh… No ma’am.” The other woman’s voice was uncertain for a moment before steadying back out. “Just bypassing some red tape. Consider it done. ETA, ten minutes.” She said with a thermocast firmness. Evelra briefly considered hounding the woman for what exactly she meant by ‘red tape’ but decided against it. She sounded confident in her statement and ultimately there was nothing else Evelra could do about it at the moment.
​
“I’m going to hold you to that.” The marine captain growled before hanging up. One down. Looking up, she glanced over the growing crowd of Marines. Already, some of her girls were pulling out medkits and burn patches as they moved to help injured protesters; her AR display highlighting their ranks and names.
​
“Sergeant Quixana!” Evelra barked over the din.
“Ma’am!” The medic shouted back over one shoulder, barely looking up from the burn victim she was currently treating.
​
“We have civilian medivac for the burn victims inbound, ETA ten minutes. You have command over Triage. Anyone in critical condition they can’t airlift out is your responsibility. Clear?” She commanded, watching the Governess’s thugs like a shark as her girls disarmed and secured them. At this point, Evelra honestly didn’t expect them to try anything else; but as always with humans, one never quite knew what they’d do.
​
“Affirmative!” Quixana replied. Taking a moment to ensure the woman she was treating wasn’t in immediate danger, the medic ushered another marine over to help and began shouting orders of her own. Two down. Satisfied that the situation was under control, Evelra keyed into her comms again.
​
“Prex, Sitrep.”
​
A couple moments later, the other woman’s voice came to life in her earpiece. “After the gunshots went off, the little fuckers started stumbling over each other to try and surrender. What in the Deep just happened?” Despite the horror around her, Evelra gave a short, mirthless chuckle. “Seems a certain… somebody decided to more than just ‘play’ at being security. And seeing as I still have my head, they’re not a complete bloodthirsty idiot.”
​
“You certain it’s… them?” Prex asked, a hint of dubiousness in her voice.
​
“Given that there’s one of the Governess’s thugs sans their head while I still have mine? Yeah. About as certain as I can be. Fits what little we know about their M.O.” Evelra shot back.
​
There were several long moments of silence before her subordinate let out a low whistle. “Make that three. I’ve got two more over here. Definitely explains why the little Turoxes were so fucking panicky. What now Cap?”
​
“How many of your Pods do you need to secure your prisoners?” Evelra asked.
​
“Less than half. They’re more terrified of stepping back into the sights of that sniper than anything else, I think.” Prexith snorted, a dry hint of amusement in her voice.
​
“Take as many as you think you can spare from guard duty and go arrest the Governess. Alive. Though preventing her from causing any more damage takes priority. Clear?” Evelra’s voice was firm, the unspoken message clear. Try not to kill the bitch if at all possible, but ice her tits if she’s going to make this a problem.
​
“As a laser lens. Prex out.”
​
When the line clicked dead, the marine captain took a deep breath and tried to center herself. Now came the hard part.
​
Politics.
​
= = =
​
Evelra stopped outside the governess’ office and took a deep breath to steady herself. Within two hours of getting the fiasco under control, one Agent Lohun had arrived… along with three Pods of Death’s Head Commandos. Upon giving him her report, the petite male had thanked her and politely requested that she remain in her quarters until further notice. The marine captain had known better than to try and test those particular boundaries. It was only now, three days later, that she’d been summoned once more.
​
In spite of the not quite lockdown state that was currently in effect, word still traveled. Her orders to arrest the governess had been upheld and the bitch had been transferred out to some Interior facility goddess knows where. A minimal local press release had happened; condemning the governess’ actions and requesting cooperation with the authorities as they investigated the incident. Things were still tense, but the daily gathering of thousands of protesters had dwindled to a hundred or so of the most stubborn.
​
With a little shake to clear her head, Evelra opened the office door and stepped through. Behind the governess’ massive polished wooden desk sat Lohun. The petite male was almost comically out of place; his simple take on the Interior uniform clashing with the room’s ostentatious opulence. Rumor had it that since he was investigating the room’s previous owner, he’d simply co-opted the office rather than bother to set up another workspace elsewhere. Looking up from his omnipad and what she assumed was a proverbial mountain of reports, the Agent gave her a tired nod of acknowledgement.
​
“Good. You’re here. Please, take a seat Captain D’saari.” He said, gesturing to a much simpler chair in front of the desk. Wincing internally at his usage of her long-abandoned family name, Evelra complied and settled into the offered seat in silence as she tried not to look at the silent woman in the corner with the three-eyed skull mask. Lohun gave his omnipad one last glance before setting it down and letting his carefully focused gaze settle onto her.
​
“Six deaths.” He stated simply, letting the fact hang there in the air for a moment. “Only half of which were not the aggressors in this situation. That could have gone much, much worse. A job well done Captain.”
​
Evelra gave an awkward shrug. “Without the… unsolicited fire support it would have been. My girls just did the mop up.”
​
Lohun hummed, double-checking something on his omni-pad. “About that. The audio logs between you and your second indicated a certain familiarity with this assumed insurgent sniper, yet I can’t find any combat reports that you two share featuring any opposition with this kind of firepower. Care to explain what I’m missing here?” He asked calmly, a polite smile on his face; the Commando in the corner shifting her weight slightly.
​
Right. That.
​
A bundle of nerves did somersaults in her gut as she felt her throat go dry. “Ah, yeah. About… one local year ago we had a human male turn up dead. Clear signs of abuse. Autopsy report indicated he had both Nightfel and Viagra in him at the time of death. I had my suspicions, but the ensuing investigation never turned up any evidence.” The marine captain grimaced, scratching at one tusk with her thumbnail. “A few months later, A pod on a routine patrol got ambushed. All three of their heads were blown clean off. Big gun. I think you can guess what we found when we cleared out their belongings.”
​
“Nightfel and Viagra.” Lohun said cooly, his face grim.
​
Evelra nodded. “Yeah. The Governess covered the whole thing up in the name of keeping the peace. Released a statement that the young man’s murderers had been found and executed while redacting my report.”
​
Briefly adding a few notes on his omnipad, the Interior agent gave her a careful look. “Why didn’t you report this breach of protocol to the Interior?”
​
“Because it worked.” Evelra sighed. “Approval ratings ticked up, minor incidents went down. Didn’t hurt that I also publicly doubled down on mandatory etiquette training for my girls. I’ve seen enough of the Empire’s bureaucracy over the years to know better than to stir up the seabed over something like this. Justice was served, even if it was in a less than ideal manner.”
​
“And what about the young man’s family?” Lohun pressed, his gaze tightening.
​
Coughing slightly to clear her throat, Evelra looked away as she felt her cheeks heat up. “Officially, they were given the same story as everyone else. However, I… I may have taken one Shel to visit their home and correct that mistake. They deserved to know.” She finished quietly, leaning forward in her chair to look down at the ground. Anywhere but at the male in front of her.
​
After several agonizingly long moments of silence, the marine captain glanced up to catch sight of Lohun slowly starting to nod. “Good. That’s good. We can work with that.”
​
At his words, Evelra let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. In response, a ghost of a smile pulled at the edges of Lohun’s face. “Yes, you can relax now. You’re here to help me fix this mess, not to have your tits burned off.”
​
Evelra bobbed her head, eager for the change of topic. “Gladly. What can I do?”
​
The ghost of a smile on Lohun’s face broadened slightly, hovering on the edge of a smirk. “Simple. You will be taking over as the Local Governess.” The marine captain felt her jaw go slack as the Interior Agent calmly continued along as if he was discussing something as simple as dinner reservations.
​
“Of course, there’s a plethora of steps to take along the way. In recognition of your service to the citizens of the empire, you will be promoted two ranks to Lieutenant Colonel and discharged with full honors. We’ll then need somebody to fill your current position. One Sergeant… Prexith Van’sar, your current second, should do nicely. With her service record she's certainly earned herself a commission, I think.” He scoffed in amusement, shaking his head at some distant thought. “Deep, her accolades are almost as impressive as her penchant for avoiding promotions. It’s my hope though that continuing to work with you should be enough to dissuade her of that particular tendency.”
​
Lohun finally took a proper pause, as if he was only now taking in her shock. “Is something the matter Captain D’saari?”
​
As Evelra heard him refer to her by her family name again something inside her broke. The sheer absurdity of it all was just too much, and a noise of amusement escaped her mouth. It started as a snort, before growing into a full-on barks of laughter as Evelra shook her head in disbelief. “I- I’m sorry, but you want me, the legally disowned, stiff-sprung cunt to be a local governess? Goddess, you all must be getting desperate if you’re willing to dredge up the cast-off chaff of the noble houses.”
​
Lohun merely quirked an eyebrow at her before briefly consulting his omnipad again. “So that explains the three separate attempts to change your last name… aannd probably why all three of them never went anywhere.” He let out a small humph as a flicker of distaste crossed his face. “An easy enough fix.”
​
“Goddess. You’re serious.” Evelra muttered as she slumped back in her chair, trying to process the implications. “Ok. Why me?” She asked, throwing a hand wide.
​
The Interior agent’s gaze focused in on her as he leaned forward onto the table, steepling his fingers. “Because Captain, over the past three days I have spent an exhaustive amount of time interviewing and interrogating people to get a better handle on what happened and why. Your name came up just as, if not, more frequently than the governess’s; and rarely in a negative light. From both Shil’vati and humans. Deep, even some of the ones that looked like they wanted to spit in my face refused to speak ill of you. Do you understand how goddess-damned rare that is?” Lohun finished, his voice raised and projected, not quite reaching an actual shout.
​
Evelra was sorely tempted to argue. She’d spent most of her adult life trying to get as far away from the nobility and politics as she could, as nothing good in her life had ever come from them. Then her conversation with Isaiah flashed through her mind. Fuck. The marine captain let out a disgusted groan of frustration as she rubbed her face with one hand. “Alright… but how?” She asked, her brain fervently grasping at straws. “I mean no offense, but… isn’t that a little outside your authority as an Interior Agent?..”
​
Once more, a slight grin pulled at the agent’s face. “Ah yes. Perhaps some reintroductions are in order. Independent Investigator Lohun Vey’elquiese of the Empress’s own and an Agent of her Interior. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Lady Evelra?..” He said smoothly, letting the end of his sentence hang as he leaned across the massive table to offer a petite fist.
​
Oh.
​
For one long moment, Evelra’s brain short-circuited. The petite little male sitting across from her answered to only perhaps a dozen people in the entire Empire, and had the authority to make individuals such as system governesses simply disappear. Of course, abuse of said power carried the death penalty, not that one of the Empress’s own handpicked agents were likely to make that kind of mistake. Suddenly, the three pods of Death’s Head Commandos accompanying him made much, much more sense.
​
After a couple seconds of slight panic, her brain caught back up and she processed the question he’d carefully interwoven into his reintroduction. Taking a moment to think, she settled on her answer. With a slight smile of her own, she reached out her hand to tap her knuckles to his.
​
“Van’sar. Evelra Van’sar. And the pleasure is all mine Investigator.”

--- Table of Contents ---
Summer 4984, 13 Doumoth
“Ugh! I hate this!” Daisy whined loudly, letting her head fall back to stare at the ceiling.
“Almost done…” Rerves said to reassure her, though he lacked his usual smile.
Ania picked up the last piece of armor, a steel vambrace, and began polishing with a groan to match Daisy’s, “When we aren’t cleaning, we're polishing, when we aren’t polishing, we're cleaning. How is this Paladin training?”
“If I wanted to be a servant, I would've joined their guild…” Thom’s small voice chimed in.
Shon said nothing. The five Squires, Shon, Daisy, Thom, Rerves, and Ania, sat under a shade in the Temple courtyard, polishing the knights' spare armor for the hundredth time. The sun beat down mere feet away, reflecting off the finished pieces as the shadow of their shade crept closer and closer, the sun climbing towards noon. The yard was mostly clear, the Paladins not on duty retreating into the cool stone fortress while those on duty only occasionally coming to check on the Squires' progress.
Ania had the right of it. Ever since they'd moved into the Temple proper and became official Squires, the five of them had done nothing but clean, polish, and memorize armor and weapon vocabulary. And complain… the others always complained. Shon just sighed as the four others continued to gripe. There was no point in it, the work needed to be done, and they were the ones assigned to do it. It didn’t matter how annoying or monotonous it might be.
Sometimes the younger Paladins would join them in polishing, caring for their own armor while the Squires worked on the spare pieces. The spares were used mainly by the enlisted, and only if they hadn’t finished buying their own sets yet. Occasionally a Paladin would check out a set to practice with. Although most of them had a preferred style, they needed to stay proficient with all types. At least that meant only half of the pieces the Squires had to clean were still polished from the day before. If the armor was never used, it really would be a useless task, instead of half useless as it seemed now.
The Paladins never complained…
The Squires hadn’t started out tired and annoyed. Daisy and Shon had been joined after their first week by Thom and Rerves, who both came from the capital city. They'd been friends growing up, Rerves was a noble, and Thom's family worked as their personal stewards, one step up from servants. A week after that, Ania arrived from a small village in the south. Only having known one Paladin and having never seen a proper Temple before, she'd been in awe of the fortress Temple of the city for at least a month. But then the excitement had given way to frustration, and -for Shon at least- boredom. And so the others had started complaining.
Their relationship with each other had started out warm enough. They stayed up late into the night, sharing their histories and dreams of their future as full Paladins. Shon joined them when prompted but mostly preferred to listen. He didn’t think he had any stories worth sharing, though they had bombarded him with questions after Veon-Zih’s first training visit. Just like everyone else, they didn’t seem to know how to deal with Shon’s quiet nature. But unlike everyone else, they hadn’t pulled away and stopped talking to him altogether. Except when they complained. Shon never complained. He didn’t see the point. When asked, he would say that they needed to follow orders. So they'd stopped asking him.
Shon held his last piece of steel plate carefully by the leather straps, wiping the last bit of polish off with a clean rag. He could see his reflection distorted by the curves and dings, and wondered if he could manage to draw the changes accurately when given a chance. The tinking of metal on metal sounded in the distance, and the Squires' heads shot up, followed by their bodies as they scrambled to their feet to salute the woman approaching.
General Rasnah was resplendent as always in her uniform, the chains of office clinking on her shoulders. She walked towards the Squires with her head held high and her hands clasped behind her back. With her was Master Veon-Zih and Shon felt his spirits rise just a little higher.
“At ease, Squires.” Sir Rasnah said as she drew to a stop just outside their shade. She waited until they'd taken the formal 'at ease' position, legs shoulder-width apart and hands clasped behind their back, “Report.”
Rerves took charge, as usual, “Sir, we're nearly done, Sir.”
“Just one piece left, Sir,” Ania added, then blushed furiously as she usually did whenever addressing a high-ranking officer.
Sir Rasnah nodded, then glanced to the sky. She then looked to Veon-Zih, who smiled and shrugged. Her lips turned up on half her face in what could almost be called a grin before she cleared it, serious again as she addressed the Squires, “You may have the afternoon off. Report to the kitchens and evening duties before sixth bell.”
“Sir, yes, Sir!” the Squires spoke in unison, Shon’s four fellows grinning broadly and sneaking happy glances at one another.
They held their positions until Sir Rasnah turned away, walking back to the Temple proper and leaving them to their freedom. Veon-Zih remained behind, smiling warmly at them and addressing Shon, “Lunch? I found a fine eatery a few blocks away.”
Shon nodded, finally smiling with the rest, “And practice?” he asked.
“After food,” Veon-Zih answered, stepping aside and gesturing towards the gates. Shon rushed to help the others put the clean and polished armor away, then jogged to Veon-Zih before falling into step with him as they left the Temple.
Veon-Zih waited until they were well clear of the gates before asking, “So what do you think of your fellow Squires?”
Shon sighed in answer, which made Veon-Zih chuckle for some reason. But the sigh hadn’t really answered the question, so Shon said, “They complain a lot.” he probably could have, and should have, come up with something nicer to say. But after hours of hearing them gripe while they worked, it was the only thing on Shon’s mind.
“There's nothing wrong with complaining, you know.” Veon-Zih mused. Shon merely shook his head. The knights never complained; he'd been watching them. If there was a job that needed to be done, they would do it. His fellow Squires seemed to complain before, during, and after every unpleasant assignment. Though never in front of the Paladin giving it.
“Do you honestly think the knights like polishing armor? Do you like polishing that much? Maybe you should've come to the Monastery after all. We don’t wear armor, but we have many fine statues that all need to be polished every day. Every little nook and cranny scrubbed clean and shining.”
He glanced at Shon with a grin, then leaned over to whisper, “They hate it too, but just like your fellows won’t complain in front of them, they won’t complain in front of you.”
“It needs to be done…” Shon tried to argue, though it sounded hollow considering his own, though silent, annoyance.
“A perfect excuse,” Veon-Zih stated, turning sharply down a side road, so Shon had to jog to keep up, “There are many reasons spare armor needs to be polished. The most obvious is that it's needed to stay in good repair. The task is assigned to Squires because it gets you intimately familiar with armor beyond just naming the parts. And because no one else wants to do it.
“That doesn’t mean we should be complaining about it…”
“Not in front of the officers, no. But amongst each other? Why not?”
Shon furrowed his brow but didn’t have an answer. Veon-Zih gave him one, “Joint misery creates companionship. Even if you have nothing else in common, everyone knows you all hate polishing already clean armor. Right now, I bet your fellow Squires are scratching their heads, wondering if you do actually enjoy the task. Some might even be wondering if they're worthy of being Squires. Since they complain, and you don’t.”
Shon’s steps faltered. Would they really think he was more worthy than them? For something so trivial as chores? He had to rush to catch up and argued, “But there's no point in complaining. We have to do it anyway.”
Veon-Zih sighed and stopped walking. He waited for Shon to turn to him then said, “But my statement still stands. Joint misery creates companionship. Your fellows take a risk in voicing their complaints to you, hoping that they're not alone in their opinions. What if they're the only ones who hate it? What if that really does mean they aren’t meant for the Temple? Just because they can channel divine magic doesn’t mean Hengist will choose them.”
Shon let himself ponder that for a while. The other Squires always seemed so sure of themselves, so excited to begin real training. Did they really have doubts and fears the same as he did? And what did that say about his assumptions? That they would complain and the knights didn’t? Was he actually judging his fellows as unworthy without realizing it?
“The Paladins really complained when they were Squires too?” he asked.
“I guarantee it.” Veon-Zih answered and started walking again, “I know I did, and all the other Monks in my class too.” he chuckled, “Sometimes routines like cleaning and polishing can be meditative. You can let your mind wander while your hands work through the familiar motions. But before you get to that point, or if you would rather be doing something of your choosing, then it's nothing but monotonous work. Necessary work, but still work.”
Following Veon-Zih around another corner, Shon pondered his Master’s words. They got all the way to the little eatery the Monk had been looking for, even took their seats, and gave their orders before Shon spoke again.
“I hate platemail the most…” he said. Veon-Zih arched an eyebrow at him, and he continued, “It’s bulky, and there's just so much of it. Then as soon as you're done, someone moves it aside and gets fingerprints on it again. Chainmail isn’t much better. You can’t see the fingerprints, but it’s hard to get the oil between the links. And yet water obviously has no problem with it because that’s where all the rust is.”
Veon-Zih laughed boisterously, throwing his head back and startling those at the closest table, “I hated the creases in the palms of the statues the most,” Veon-Zih held up his hand, his forefinger and thumb forming a circle, the other fingers extended, “how can so much dust cake itself in such a small space in only a day?” he complained, dropping his hand and shaking his head.
The waitress brought them their stew and drinks, and Shon started eating while Veon-Zih thanked her. Picking up his spoon, the Monk paused as he dipped it into his bowl, musing, “I wonder which parts your fellow Squires dislike the most?” Shon didn’t know, but he wanted to. Would they agree with him that the plate was the most frustrating? Daisy seemed to groan loudest at the leather, but their complaining always seemed to be general moans at the work as a whole…
“Maybe I’ll ask,” Shon mumbled, embarrassed for some reason.
“Or,” Veon-Zih took his first bite, then pointed at Shon with his spoon, “you could just tell them your least favorite, and they will open up and share their own.”
That’s what they expected of him, wasn’t it? They expected him to join in the conversation, not just answer questions… Shon could only nod.
***
Shon had grown so much. It was difficult for Veon-Zih to watch him without smiling. Only a head shorter than his Master, Veon-Zih could still see the ten-year-old oddity he'd spied upon almost four years ago in the church courtyard. And yet, he had grown so much. Veon-Zih wondered if anyone else could see it.
They practiced in one of the parks in the noble’s district. Veon-Zih thought it was important that Shon get out of Temple whenever possible, that he see the city and its people, to remember what he was training for, and why he wanted to fight. Shon was more like Veon-Zih, and his order of Monks than the boy would ever know. Or admit. He strove for perfection. Every punch, kick, and kata they worked through needed to go exactly right, or he would do it again. Like many Monks, Shon found true enjoyment in the process of working and growing better than his past self. But he was also different in a critical way. Shon wanted to use his strength. Wanted to protect people, fight evil. Many Monks never left the Monastery. A single Grandmaster could easily fell a small raiding force alone. Yet, so many chose not to fight outside their sparring rings and training.
Even Veon-Zih hadn’t left the Monastery because he wanted to help those locked outside its walls. He'd left because he believed he couldn't attain the perfection he strove for inside them. He'd wanted to be tested by the world, to rise to the challenges life presented and overcome them with his discipline and practice. Along the way, he'd learned to be more like Shon was naturally. He'd made friends from other orders, and saved countless non-combatants. Only after seeing the results of his fights, the grateful families reunited, had he realized the moral folly in his fellows and in himself.
They practiced and even sparred until well after fifth bell. The display at first earned them a few disapproving glares from the nobles and servants passing the park. Then they'd actually attracted a few spectators, who clapped as though watching a show. Shon blushed furiously at this, his pale cheeks growing pink as he tilted his head down, trying to let what was left of his now short hair slip down to hide his face. Yet, he never lost step or stopped the training. Veon-Zih had barely resisted laughing, though if more at the foolish watchers or his embarrassed student, he wasn’t sure.
Veon-Zih finally called their training to a halt, and Shon glowered at him. The boy had nearly gotten in his first solid hit in their sparring and was obviously reluctant to stop after making such progress. “It’s nearly time for you to get back, and Sir Rasnah will not accept me as an excuse for tardiness.” Shon’s eyes went wide, and fear replaced the look of frustration on his face. He ran his fingers through his hair, looking up at the sky to try and gauge the hour.
Veon-Zih chuckled, “I’ll race you back.” he said, a hint of mischief seeping through his voice. Shon arched an eyebrow and Veon-Zih could practically hear his thoughts. Run? Through town? You must be joking. “There's no law against running,” Veon-Zih argued with the boy’s expression, “Every moment offers us an opportunity to train. We're late, so this is the perfect opportunity to test our speed against time and run.”
Shon alternated his arched brow to the other side, looking down the road then back to Veon-Zih before confirming, “A race?”
In answer, Veon-Zih ran. He sprinted past Shon -though not at his full speed- before slowing down just enough to keep things fair. Shon bolted after him. Nobles, servants, and even a few guards gasped and called out in indignation as Veon-Zih and Shon swerved around them on the wide roads of the nobles' quarter. They were forced to slow when they reached the more densely packed streets in the city center. Shon was careful to run around the people doing their shopping but kept his eyes set ahead, planning his route and scaring those who noticed him out of the way with his intense blue stare. Veon-Zih was much more confident in his ability not to hit people and so brushed much closer, never quite knocking into them but often brushing their clothes as he passed.
Ahead a cart laden with crates and barrels ambled across the thoroughfare, and Shon slowed to a jog, trying to run around it. Veon-Zih lept, landing on his hands on the cart and propelling himself up and over before hitting the ground again and continuing the race. He heard the merchant curse and the bystanders gasp in surprise but was more amused at the growl of frustration that came from his student, who put on an extra burst of speed to try and catch up. Veon-Zih was half tempted to let him and half tempted to sprint all out and leave the boy in his dust. He chose to do neither and just laughed, continuing at the pace he'd set and soon coming into view of the Temple gates.
The Paladins on watch saw him coming and exchanged confused and nervous glances, drawing their swords but not barring his path. Veon-Zih didn’t slow his run until he reached the knights. Turning to the side and planting his feet, he slid past them on the cobblestones. Turning back as he slid to a stop, he found one of the Paladins facing him as though ready to fight and the other facing out as though looking for whatever force had sent Veon-Zih sprinting for the Temple.
Shon slowed to a jog and stopped before the knight facing him, breathing hard. “What’s going on? Squire report.” the Paladin demanded, still holding his sword at the ready.
Shon had to take a moment to catch his breath but eventually managed to gasp out, “Race…” before looking absolutely horrified at what he'd just done and said. “Sir…” he added quietly as if that might somehow make his unconventional arrival more acceptable.
“And you managed to keep up with him?” Sir Rasnah appeared from beyond the gate, arching a steely eyebrow and drawing sharp salutes from the Paladin guards who finally sheathed their swords.
“I went easy on him,” Veon-Zih assured her, earning a glare from Shon, who passed through the gates, still breathing deeply but no longer gasping for air. Veon-Zih hadn’t even broken a sweat.
Rasnah looked between the Master and student, finally settling on Shon, “Oh, don’t look at him like that, Squire. Master Veon-Zih could beat a riderless horse in a foot race.” which drew a befuddled look from Shon and a laugh from Veon-Zih.
“General Rasnah, Sir,” another man ran towards the gates wearing the uniform of an enlisted. A messenger from the city gates.
“It seems today is a good day for running,” Veon-Zih quipped as the guards allowed the man to pass and give his report.
“A wyvern has been spotted over the woods near Lakeland,”
Sir Rasnah didn’t respond right away. She narrowed her eyes at the messenger and spoke to Shon, “You have duties, Squire, hop to it.”
Shon saluted, though Rasnah still wasn’t looking at him. He glanced at Veon-Zih curiously, then turned to follow the orders.
Veon-Zih hesitated but decided to follow Shon. If he was needed, Rasnah would let him know.
“A wyvern?” Shon asked in a whisper.
“An abomination,” Veon-Zih explained, “Monstrous beasts with a body as large as a wagon, not including the tail. They fly like birds and will hunt anything that strays into their territory, including humans.”
Shon’s brow furrowed, and Veon-Zih patted him on the shoulder, “It'll be alright. They rarely attack settlements unless they're starving.” Which was good because a single wyvern could destroy a small town.
“What will the Temple do?” Shon asked as they reached the back door to the kitchens.
“That depends… most likely, they'll send a group to the village and watch the skies.”
“They won’t hunt it?”
“Maybe, and maybe not. Wyverns are dangerous enough that it’s a real risk to hunt one, but they also can’t be allowed to harm nearby towns. The Temple of Saint Giorgos will want it destroyed, but Sir Rasnah won’t needlessly risk her men if it isn’t necessary.” Veon-Zih explained.
Shon thought for a moment, then asked, “Have you ever fought a wyvern?”
Veon-Zih tried to make his smile reassuring, "Twice. Though I would rather not try a third time if it can be avoided.”
***
“Red, what're you doing?” Ran asked.
She rolled Her eyes, focusing again on what She was doing and not bothering to answer him. Her fingers ached, but She worked them into the cracks between the stones of the tower wall, shifting Her weight from one hand to the other and searching out the next handhold.
Brom laughed, and She heard the slap and woosh of breath as he pat Ran on the back hard enough to knock the air from the thinner man’s lungs, “Can’t you tell? She’s climbing!”
“Sort of…” Ran mumbled.
She wasn’t climbing up the wall, as much as She wanted to. Instead, She was up only about a foot off the ground and working Her way sideways around the tower. “Afraid of falling, Red?” Ran asked instead. That question was even more stupid than the last, and She arched Her neck back, holding tight to the wall and looking at him upside down.
“Really?” She asked in response to his denseness. He should know She wouldn’t be afraid of falling. She had fallen many times when She'd braved climbing the trees around the perimeter. Even broke Her arm once, and that hadn’t stopped Her from trying again with the splint still on. But that was when they used to let Her out more often, about once every other week. No, the thing that kept Her from climbing up the wall was the same thing that had stopped Her climbing trees. The same thing that stopped Her running around the tower at top speed while Brom or Ran kept time and She tried to beat Her record. And the same thing that kept Her from even crossing the tree line to play pretend in the woods.
Ran had the decency to look embarrassed, realizing his mistake eventually. There was only one thing that ever stopped Her from doing what She wanted, and even that often took multiple ‘lessons’ each time. Morndancer had grown increasingly erratic and more often violent of late. He would mutter to himself in draconic then give opposite orders to the journeymen and apprentices in common. Though everyone in the tower spoke both languages. He would lock himself in his room for days and hadn’t been back to visit his family or the Mages Guild in weeks. Shaloon would cover for him, but she wasn’t much better, cutting holes in reality and staring into the outer plains for hours on end, whispering. Half her words in draconic and the other half in common, mixing the languages in the same sentence.
Brom and Ran had refused to talk to Her about it, but She had listened at Her door when they thought She was sleeping. The Archmages were going mad. The eventual cost of power, they said. Though neither seemed upset that the same would happen to them eventually. Perhaps their lack of concern was the first sign they'd already started.
She continued Her climb, putting Her worries about Brom and Ran’s sanity out of Her mind for the time being. She would have plenty of time to stew about it when She was locked in Her room. For now, She wanted to enjoy being outside in the brief summer warmth.
A burst of sudden wind from above set Her hair whipping about Her face and nearly cost Her grip on the stones. Squeezing Her eyes shut, She tried to shake Her hair back, blowing at the strands against another huge gust before something heavy shook the ground behind her. She let Her head fall back again, so Her hair fell away from Her face, and She could see what had come upside down. The sight caused Her to fall off the wall.
Landing hard on Her backside, She scrambled to Her feet in a mix of awe and horror. A monster large enough to fill Her entire room and then some, stood in the clearing around the tower. It had a long sinuous neck and dull brown scales. It walked on great taloned legs in the back and the joints of its leathery wings in the front. It snapped at Archmage Shaloon as she jumped from its neck to the ground, its teeth as long as daggers and looking just as sharp. It didn’t bite the Archmage, who ignored it as she approached the journeymen.
“What are you three doing out here?” she demanded, mixing draconic with common and glaring at the two men who, for some reason, looked ashamed despite the permission they'd gotten to be out today.
The Firewyrm ignored the question, asking one of Her own, “What is that?” She pointed at the monster, not sure if She felt sad or disgusted at the sight of it. Both seemed odd emotions to have at the sight of a beast that could eat Her in two bites.
Fingers snapped, and She flinched, reaching for Her collar. The monster let out a strangled roar, thrashing its head wildly, its own copper collar shimmering with light and magic. “Another failure of our predecessors, thousands of years ago.” Morndancer exited the tower, his robes billowing around him.
Another snap, and the Firewyrm flinched again. But Shaloon just snorted, sneering at the other Archmage after stopping his torment of her mount, “The north-western Talon was gracious enough to lend us this sample after years of training. It should come in handy with the local draken who worship its kind as gods.” the beast snarled at the humans just out of reach but didn’t step any closer, digging its talons deeper into the ground and hissing, “It was a great success after the slaying. We’ve only had one greater.” she glanced at the Firewyrm who tilted Her head at the two of them, curious for more but sure they wouldn’t give it to Her.
Archmage Morndancer dismissed the defense of the monster’s existence with a snort, “And yet we are still facing the same problems as those before us. What information do you have?”
“A storm hit out at sea, and there are signs of another possibly brewing in Halakon.”
Ran swallowed nervously, and Brom stuttered, “Should we…?”
“No.” Morndancer answered the unfinished question, “There is only one thing that can stop these storms, and we are the only ones willing to make the sacrifices to do it.” he turned away from them, returning to the tower door before glancing over his shoulder, “Get back inside, we need more samples if we are to make up for our own successful failure.”
***
“Saint Giorgos says the wyverns are the last vestiges of the dragon’s evil in the skies…” Sir Rasnah sipped her tea thoughtfully.
Father Branston snorted, “Yes yes, and drakes are their evil on land, and leviathans their evil at sea. They are beasts, Rasnah, as old as memory.”
“Branston's right,” Veon-Zih shrugged, rolling his teacup between his hands, “They're terrible beasts with some magic to them, but they're no more intelligent than a drakwalf or horse.”
They sat together in Father Branston’s office to enjoy warm tea and a colorful sunset through his massive windows. But none of them could really relax with the news of a wyvern flying around the woods to the north. Just to the west of Hamerfoss.
“They've been known to hunt for sport,” Rasnah reminded them, her face pained at the memory.
“So do house cats.”
“House cats don’t pick off entire barbarian tribes over the course of a week.”
"I'm sure they would if they could,"
Branston sighed, reaching for his teapot and pouring himself another cup, “What will you do? If you need healers, I have a few skilled enough to go.”
Rasnah sighed, rubbing her forehead and resting her cup in her lap, “Perhaps one. I’ll send a group to watch. If it's sighted again, we'll have to do something.”
Veon-Zih cleared his throat to get her attention and arched a questioning eyebrow her way. The Paladin returned the look with a smile and said, “I will make sure they have a sending stone. If you're needed, I’m sure they'll wait for you to arrive before seeking it out.” her smile faded, and she stared into her cup, “If they really are vestiges of dragons then I suppose Saint Giorgos is right and all of them were evil.”
“Having a crisis of faith, Rasnah?” Branston asked softly, but with a smile, “Legends say Hengist was allied with goodly dragons.”
“Dragons of Gold and Silver and all the precious metals,” Veon-Zih finished for him, then added, “None of that matters anymore. All we can do is face the challenges life presents us with in the here and now.”
“Of course,” Rasnah agreed, looking up at her old friends and managing a lopsided grin, “And now we have a wyvern possibly claiming territory in our forests. Do you think Daunas will want to join the hunt? If necessary,” she added at the end.
“Mung's boy? He’s still stationed at Hamerfoss then?” Branston asked.
Veon-Zih chuckled, “I don’t believe he would forgive you if you didn’t let him.” his chuckle died, and the three gazed mournfully out the window. Remembering their last wyvern fight, and their friend lost in bringing it down. It had been their last adventure together.
-End of Part 1-
--- Table of Contents ---
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I desperately need advice on this, at this point I am basically all out of ideas besides pursuing legal action (which I am open to doing). I live in California and I have already reported this to the BBB and Attorney General, but I am not seeing any progress. At this point, I do not even care about the money. I am more concerned about pursuing this further so they cannot do this to someone else who does not have the funds or resources I do. Would like advice on how to proceed, adding a timeline of events below:

• I decided I want to clean out my closet. I happen to enjoy designer things (purses, shoes, watches, etc.) and decide I want to sell them if possible. I contact the online consignment shop TheRealReal as I have bought a few items from the site previously and figure I could easily make some money from cleaning out my closet.
• February 11, 2023 - A representative from TheRealReal comes to my home to pick up the items. I used this service specifically because I didn't want to deal with shipping (and if things were lost in the mail, the liability was not mine. More on that later). The woman shows up, takes pictures of everything I have (20 items total), and sends me a copy of the pictures and a list of everything she took with her. I'm told the items will be up and sold on the site within 2 - 3 weeks. The total of all items I would estimate is over $4000, however I am fine with getting a fraction of that back after selling and commission fees, I just wanted to get the stuff out of my house.
• March 22, 2023 - I reach out to The RealReal via their texting customer service chat inquiring about where my items were at in the process as it had been over 5 weeks and I had no updates. The customer service agent says they will investigate the issue.
• April 2, 2023 - I receive an email indicating they have received my items and are reviewing them for quality and pricing for their website
• April 4, 2023 - I receive another email indicating that they have reviewed and already sold 6 of my items. At this point I assume the items were not lost, but simply not attached to my account. They had been reviewed and sold weeks prior. The 6 items sold were of lower value (maybe $100 - $200 each item). I'm told I will receive a check in the mail for the items sold. (I have since received the check.)
• April 7, 2023 - I inquire again to ask where my higher priced items are at in the process and indicate that I'm unhappy about the updates and progress and would need to pursue more action if I don't receive clear communication. After this email, I am ghosted until I start a new email thread.
• April 14, 2023 - I follow up again asking the same as above.
• April 19, 2023 - I send a letter to The RealReal outlining the above and indicate I will pursue additional action if I do not hear back from someone about the status of my items as it had been 2 months. I sent this via email and via mail.
• April 28, 2023 - I receive the following email:
  • Thank you for your patience. After further investigation, we were unable to rectify our inventory regarding your above items. I can understand how frustrating this may be. Rest assured I am here to help make this right and have begun the payout process for these items. This means that I will send all of the information on file for the items in the package to our Merchandising team (photos, designer, style, condition, etc) so that they may price the items. Once priced, I will let you know exactly when you can expect to receive your payment, and how much it will be for. The RealReal will then "purchase" the item from you, and issue your commission as if it had sold on the website. We’re sorry that your experience with us wasn’t more positive and look forward to rectifying it as much as we can.
• I responded with the following:
  • Though I appreciate the response, the above solution does not rectify the 3.5 months of waiting for your company to come to this conclusion. You accepted a $700 pair of shoes and a $500 scarf, among many of my other items, and lost them. I utilized your in-home pick up service to avoid any issues with shipping. Before payment, I would like a detailed list of what the merchandising team prices the item to be worth, especially for the more expensive items that were sent (hermes scarf, louboutin shoes, amongst others). Based on your policy, items not sold would be returned to me. Because this is not an option (as you have indicated above that The Realreal has lost my items), I am expecting the full amount of the "sale" to be returned to me, as my items can no longer be returned. The "expected commission" is not an acceptable solution when the items cannot be appropriately evaluated because they are no longer in your possession.
• May 7, 2023 - After sending the above email, I have not received communication regarding the missing items. I chose to file a complaint with the Better Business Bureau in hopes they can move the needle.
• May 9 - 2023 - I receive an email that TheRealReal has received my complaint and are investigating. I receive follow up emails (unprompted) on May 11, 13, and 15 letting me know they are still investigating.
• May 15 - 2023 - I receive a check for the 6 items they were able to account for.

After this, I have no further communication from them. It's almost June and I still have no resolution. They have no accountability for the additional items they lost, and no one has reached out to indicate how much they are planning to "price" my items for.
TLDR: The RealReal accepted $4000 of designer items and lost them. They tell me they will pay me for my items, then ghost me. They have provided no updates or clarification after almost 4 months of back and forth. Need advice on what to do from here. Thanks!

A strange event happened some time ago, I love having my house too clean, therefore I can't find an explanation for this event. I usually enter my room and it gives off a horrible smell of human feces, I have thoroughly cleaned and searched for an explanation, the strangest thing is that it appears from time to time. Could someone tell me if they are cursing me? And if so, how can I prptejerme and reverse it?

Say goodbye to harsh chemicals and hello to natural cleaning with our latest blog post! We've rounded up some of the best ways to clean using vinegar, a natural and eco-friendly alternative to traditional cleaning products. From cleaning windows to removing stains, our blog post offers practical tips and tricks to help you harness the power of vinegar and get your home looking its best. Plus, with its antimicrobial properties, vinegar is a great choice for those who want to keep their home clean and healthy without relying on harsh chemicals. Head to our blog now to learn how to clean your home like a pro using vinegar!
https://honesthoneyreviews.blogspot.com/2023/05/the-power-of-vinegar-clever-hacks-for.html

Say goodbye to harsh chemicals and hello to natural cleaning with our latest blog post! We've rounded up some of the best ways to clean using vinegar, a natural and eco-friendly alternative to traditional cleaning products. From cleaning windows to removing stains, our blog post offers practical tips and tricks to help you harness the power of vinegar and get your home looking its best. Plus, with its antimicrobial properties, vinegar is a great choice for those who want to keep their home clean and healthy without relying on harsh chemicals. Head to our blog now to learn how to clean your home like a pro using vinegar!
https://honesthoneyreviews.blogspot.com/2023/05/the-power-of-vinegar-clever-hacks-for.html

If your cooking is following a recipe like a robot, it's always going to be a boring chore. But if you are actually interested in ingredients, what different things do to them, and how to balance flavours it is a pleasure. I have to hide how much I love it because we split chores with my Mrs doing majority of cleaning and me the majority of cooking and food shopping. She hates cleaning but I love cooking. Why take one pill when you can take both and make purple pill sorbet?

I was in the arena today and someone's Tyro used Protect (which grants an extra turn) repeatedly about four times before using his regular attack. He fully healed himself and gained a lot of extra HP. Not sure if it was a glitch or a real thing, but it seems useful especially for redirecting attacks away from a weaker hero. Does anyone know how this is possible? Maybe by putting him in the right slot and using the Golden Seal of the Flying Boar relic? I just don't understand how he was able to use his advanced skill repeatedly like that.

One effective way to clean a stinky drain is to use a mixture of baking soda and vinegar. First, pour a pot of boiling water down the drain to help loosen any debris. Then, pour 1/2 cup of baking soda down the drain, followed by 1/2 cup of white vinegar. Cover the drain with a plug or a cloth to contain the fizzing reaction. Let the mixture sit for 10-15 minutes, then pour another pot of boiling water down the drain to rinse away the solution. You can repeat this process once a month to keep your drains smelling fresh. If the smell persists, you can also try pouring a cup of bleach down the drain and letting it sit for 10-15 minutes before rinsing with water. Just be sure to avoid using bleach if you have a septic system, as it can harm the beneficial bacteria in the tank.
Learn more cleaning tips at: https://honesthoneyreviews.blogspot.com/?m=1

I just wanna die. I feel so tired, of waking up everyday, of working, of thinking anything at all, of playing video games I suck at, of talking to strangers trying to find love, of living abroad, of thinking that I will die alone because no one will love me, of being sad, happy, or just feeling any emotion possible. I'm so tired of living. Just now I got my knife from my utensil drawer and I was so close to wounding my arm, but I thought it would be a hassle to clean blood; I'm too tired to clean anyways. I'm too tired to the point that thinking of how to die tires me so much.
I don't want anyone to chat to me. I'm a hopeless cause; if someone chats me, I will just assume that person just pities me, then the longer I talk with them, the more I would fall in love in them. But then they will tell me they don't love me back. Why am I born ugly? Why am I born average? Why am I born fat and desperate?
A losing game all of a sudden changed me tonight. I never knew I am this unstable until that happened. But it's over now.

Mostly just for fun and practice, I have been working on a homebrewed artificer subclass for an automaton character (I'll post the race stats I'm working on in a comment, for those interested). I have been trying to keep it flexible, fun, and thematically satisfying without being overpowered or overshadowing other players. I am of the opinion that you win DnD when everyone involved is having a lot of fun, and that fun is most had when everything is well-balanced and everyone can do cool things and shares the spotlight. I am fully aware that everything is ultimately up to the DM I play with and that party balance is also an important factor. I have done my best to compare this to preexisting subclasses, spells, and features to keep this balanced, but I'd love outside input. As I said this is mostly a fun experiment that I don't really expect to ever get to play, but I enjoy the creative process.
Thanks for taking the time to offer opinions if you decide to do so. And feel free to use any part of this as inspiration for your own homebrewed stuff. Happy adventuring!
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Artificial Artificer
Expanded Spells (Similar to Battlesmith)
3rd Level Feature
Choose 2 extra cantrips from the Artificer spell list. Starting at 3rd level, you always have certain spells prepared after you reach particular levels in this class, as shown in the Artificial Artificer Spells table. These spells count as artificer spells for you, but they don’t count against the number of artificer spells you prepare.
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Artificer Level	Spells
3rd	Identify, Shield
5th	Knock, Misty Step
9th	Counterspell, Fireball
13th	Greater Invisibility, Wall of Fire
17th	Telekinesis, Teleportation Circle

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Tool Proficiency (Similar to Battlesmith)
3rd Level Feature
When you adopt this specialization at 3rd level, you gain proficiency in one type of artisan's tools of your choice.
Create Familiar (Improved and reskinned version of Find Familiar)
3rd Level Feature
Crafting Time: 1 hour
Tools: Artisan’s, Smith’s, or Tinker’s tools
Components: S M (20 gp worth of a strong material such as metal or wood, glass, and precious gems)

• Once per long rest, you craft a tiny familiar that takes on any form you choose; it uses the statistics of any of the following creatures: bat, cat, crab, frog (toad), hawk, lizard, octopus, owl, poisonous snake, fish (quipper), rat, raven, sea horse, spider, or weasel, though it is a construct instead of a beast.
• Your familiar acts independently of you, but it always obeys your commands. In combat, it shares your initiative and acts during your turn. It can attack on its own or perform any other action in its stat block.
• If your familiar is within 60 ft of you, you can cast spells (cantrips or 1st level, requiring an action or bonus action) through it. This counts as a combined action and takes the action or bonus action of both of your turns. You cannot cast spells through it as part of your reaction, but it can take its own reactions, if available. If your familiar is within 5 feet of an ally, your familiar can use its reaction to block a successful attack roll against that ally, taking all of the attack’s damage.
• While your familiar is within 200 feet of you, you can communicate with it telepathically. Additionally, as an action, you can see through your familiar’s eyes and hear what it hears until the start of your next turn, gaining the benefits of any special senses that the familiar has. During this time, you are deaf and blind with regard to your own senses.
• When the familiar drops to 0 hit points, it leaves behind a pile of unusable debris. Your familiar is resistant to healing spells and potions. The mending cantrip can be used to heal your familiar 1d4 + your spellcasting modifier. When not in use, your familiar can be stored in a compartment on your body. Your familiar will regain full HP when stored this way during a long rest.
• You can’t have more than one familiar at a time. If your familiar has at least one hit point, you may reconfigure it into a new form without extra material components.

Integrated Offense (Made this one from scratch, but kind of similar to Battle Ready)
3rd Level Feature
At 3rd level, you gain the ability to integrate your artificial body with offensive capabilities. You can integrate up to two simple or martial weapons into your body, one on each arm. While integrated, you are proficient with these weapons. When you attack with your integrated weapons, you use your Intelligence modifier instead of your Strength or Dexterity modifier for the attack and damage rolls.
These integrated weapons can be drawn or stowed as part of the same action you use to attack with them. If an integrated weapon is separated from your body, it becomes unusable unless you spend time and material resources reconstructing it.
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Artificial Arcanum (Intent here is to provide options for a weaker version of Arcane Recovery or to choose one of two unique abilities. Not sure how much the flexibility might make this overpowered)
5th Level Feature
At 5th level, you have developed an internal magical energy storage system. Once per long rest, you can utilize this stored energy in one of the following ways:
Option 1: Spellcraft Charge
The advanced energy storage mechanisms within your automaton body allow you to store a reservoir of spellcasting power. You can store a number of spell levels equal to your proficiency bonus. Whenever you cast a spell, you can choose to expend stored spell levels instead of using your own spell slots. This feature provides you with an alternative means of casting spells, conserving your own magical resources.
Option 2: Ethereal Circuitry
Your energy storage system can be expended to alter the magiphysical vibrations of your physical form, allowing it to phase through solid objects. By expending your available energy storage, you can activate your ethereal circuitry. For the duration of this activation, you gain the ability to move through up to 5 feet of solid material, as if it were insubstantial. Alternatively, if an enemy successfully hits you with an attack, you can use your reaction to activate your ethereal circuitry, causing that hit to miss. This ability extends to subsequent attacks made by the same enemy on their turn.
Option 3: Momentum Burst
Harnessing the stored kinetic energy within your automaton body, you can unleash a powerful burst of speed and agility. Once per day, as a bonus action, you can activate your Momentum Burst. This grants you the ability to move up to 8 times your movement speed for the current turn. Additionally, your next attack roll made on the same turn has advantage, benefiting from the momentum and precision of your swift movement. However, if that attack misses, the next enemy to attack you before your next turn gains advantage on their attack roll, capitalizing on the momentary vulnerability caused by your aggressive maneuvering.
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Enhanced Familiar (This level seems a common time to improve previously acquired class features)
9th Level Feature
At 9th level, your mastery over the art of artifice extends to the enhancement of your familiar, allowing it to excel in various aspects. When you craft your familiar, you can choose one of the following options: Combined Utility, Enhanced Offense, or Enhanced Defense. Crafting a familiar in this way requires 50GP worth of the relevant material components, rather than 20)
Combined Utility:
With this option, you can combine the non-combat capabilities of two creatures into one familiar, creating a versatile and adaptable companion. By melding the essence of these creatures together, your familiar gains a range of utility features and abilities. For example, you can combine the bat and octopus to create a mechanical familiar that can fly, has blindsight, and can swim and breathe underwater. The familiar crafted through this option utilizes the higher ability scores and skill values between the two creatures, providing a powerful tool for exploration and problem-solving.
Enhanced Offense:
If you choose the Enhanced Offense option, your familiar gains a potent attack ability to aid you in combat. It gains the Miniature Fireball attack, which deals 2d8 fire damage in a 5-foot radius, requiring a Dexterity saving throw for half damage. The number of uses of this ability is limited to your proficiency bonus, uses are regained during a long rest. You can also use your bonus action to command the familiar to self-destruct, causing 3d8 fire damage to anyone within a 30-foot radius. You must have at least one use remaining and using this effect drops your Familiar’s Hit Points to 0.
Enhanced Defense:
With the Enhanced Defense option, you bolster your familiar's resilience and endurance. Your familiar gains additional hit points equal to your spellcaster level, making it more durable in combat. Furthermore, it gains the Relentless Endurance feature, allowing it to endure the most devastating blows. When reduced to 0 hit points but not killed outright, your familiar can drop to 1 hit point instead. This ability can only be used once and is regained after a long rest.
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Artifice Mastery (Again made this one up from scratch, but tried to keep it balanced with other 15th level features)
15th Level Feature
At 15th level, your mastery over magical manipulation reaches new heights. You gain the following benefits:
Masterful Construction: When you create a construct using your Create Familiar feature, you can craft your familiar with two of the three options specified in the Enhanced Familiar feature. Crafting a familiar in this way requires 100GP worth of the relevant material components, rather than 20. Your familiar’s blocking reaction also has an increased range of 10ft.
Nullification Shield: Once per long rest, you can use your reaction to erect an arcane shield to absorb damage from an attack that makes a successful hit against you. This shield absorbs up to 5d10 points of damage before dissipating, any remaining non-physical damage is taken by you as normal. You can also cast this through your familiar if it is used to block an attack: doing this uses both of your reactions.