Sir blackwater wizard101
[RF] Homecoming
2023.05.27 18:06 trimminator [RF] Homecoming
“I’m not going”. Hank’s mother said as they sat at the breakfast table.
Hank then looked up from his bowl of grits and turned to her “what?”
To most people in the streets of BlackWater it was an ordinary summer morning. But for Hank and his mother, today would be different than any other day they’ve awoken to. As Hank’s brother John had come home from the war today and was currently waiting on a ship in the harbor for them. As a result this created mixed feelings in Hank’s mother’s heart.
“I said I’m not going” Hank’s mother said as she quietly sipped some coffee.
Hank then set down his own cup of coffee and spoke in turn. “Why not? We haven’t seen him in months and though I wish it were on different terms as well, at least we will still be able to see him”.
Hank’s mother stared down at her cup of coffee as she sat down the porcelain glass on the table. “I didn’t get any sleep last night. I had envisioned seeing him for some time. But now that he’s finally here I can’t bring myself to stand before him. I’m sorry I can’t go”.
Warm tears began to slide down her cheeks and Hank took his withered mothers hand. “Mother don’t be unreasonable.. This may be the last time we get the chance to.”
After a moment Hank’s mother nodded in agreement. “Perhaps you’re right. What sort of mother am I to not want to see my own son?”
Hank then hugged her tightly and spoke back “you’re a great mother is what you are.”
He then stood up from the breakfast table and adjusted his tie and drew his pocket watch to check the time. “We should be going now.”
Hank’s mother then nodded and adjusted her black dress before they walked out the door.
The streets of BlackWater were busy as people went about their business and Hank and his mother arrived at the dock. By now the soldiers had unloaded over twenty pinewood coffins and different families were looking for their husbands, fathers or sons.
Hank’s mother then tightly took up her sons arm as she stared at the dead faces of the men staring back at her. Many still wore their dark blue uniforms and looked as if they had been found yesterday. While others looked black like a sack of rags.
Hank then approached one of the soldiers unloading coffins and asked in a polite voice. “Pardon me Sir, we’re looking for a Private First Class John Davis?”
The soldier then nodded and walked with them to the far side of the dock where a soldier lay freshly in his coffin with a sign reading “John Davis” sticking out.
“I’m sorry for your loss Sir and Ma’m. I didn’t know him personally but I heard he was a good man.” The soldier said in a gruff voice.
Hank then took off his bowler hat and stared confusingly at his mother.
The soldier then saw his look of dismay and asked. “Is something wrong Ma’m?”
“Yes”. She said in reply. “The man in that coffin is not my son”.
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Hank then looked up from his bowl of grits and turned to her “what?”
To most people in the streets of BlackWater it was an ordinary summer morning. But for Hank and his mother, today would be different than any other day they’ve awoken to. As Hank’s brother John had come home from the war today and was currently waiting on a ship in the harbor for them. As a result this created mixed feelings in Hank’s mother’s heart.
“I said I’m not going” Hank’s mother said as she quietly sipped some coffee.
Hank then set down his own cup of coffee and spoke in turn. “Why not? We haven’t seen him in months and though I wish it were on different terms as well, at least we will still be able to see him”.
Hank’s mother stared down at her cup of coffee as she sat down the porcelain glass on the table. “I didn’t get any sleep last night. I had envisioned seeing him for some time. But now that he’s finally here I can’t bring myself to stand before him. I’m sorry I can’t go”.
Warm tears began to slide down her cheeks and Hank took his withered mothers hand. “Mother don’t be unreasonable.. This may be the last time we get the chance to.”
After a moment Hank’s mother nodded in agreement. “Perhaps you’re right. What sort of mother am I to not want to see my own son?”
Hank then hugged her tightly and spoke back “you’re a great mother is what you are.”
He then stood up from the breakfast table and adjusted his tie and drew his pocket watch to check the time. “We should be going now.”
Hank’s mother then nodded and adjusted her black dress before they walked out the door.
The streets of BlackWater were busy as people went about their business and Hank and his mother arrived at the dock. By now the soldiers had unloaded over twenty pinewood coffins and different families were looking for their husbands, fathers or sons.
Hank’s mother then tightly took up her sons arm as she stared at the dead faces of the men staring back at her. Many still wore their dark blue uniforms and looked as if they had been found yesterday. While others looked black like a sack of rags.
Hank then approached one of the soldiers unloading coffins and asked in a polite voice. “Pardon me Sir, we’re looking for a Private First Class John Davis?”
The soldier then nodded and walked with them to the far side of the dock where a soldier lay freshly in his coffin with a sign reading “John Davis” sticking out.
“I’m sorry for your loss Sir and Ma’m. I didn’t know him personally but I heard he was a good man.” The soldier said in a gruff voice.
Hank then took off his bowler hat and stared confusingly at his mother.
The soldier then saw his look of dismay and asked. “Is something wrong Ma’m?”
“Yes”. She said in reply. “The man in that coffin is not my son”.
2023.05.21 01:07 Noa97719 I didn't know you could get damage this high at level 60 and I know I'm above 60 but all the gear is for 60 and lower but i am trying to get the amulet from the lower zigzag
 | submitted by Noa97719 to Wizard101 [link] [comments] |
2023.05.20 17:58 trimminator [RF] Survivors at sea
“This is all your fault” Becker complained as the lifeboat swayed in the ocean.
“My fault?” Anderson asked. “I’m sitting in the same boat as you moron”.
It had been hours now since the battle and the only ones left in the water were a pair of sailors from opposing sides of the war. In a brutal twist of irony. They found themselves sitting in the same lifeboat to escape the dreadful waves of the ocean.
“Yes.” Becker continued. “The whole war is your fault, your countrymen’s included. Your breed is nothing but a band of criminals who wanted what they couldn’t have. And now as a result we find ourselves locked in a deadly war to defend our fatherland from the savages of the West”.
Anderson only sneered. “You’re not still sore we sunk your ship are you? Perhaps you shouldn’t have challenged an Ulsterian battleship and just let us take you all prisoner. This war will end like that either way and it would just be easier.”
Becker then stood up. “Such banter coming from the Victor. If your side claimed victory then why have your crewmen left you sitting in the water?”
“They didn’t” Anderson answered. “I was swept off the deck by a gust of wind. They’ll notice in no time and sail back here to get me. How did you survive anyways? When we struck the magazine the entire ship went down in seconds. I was sure that explosion killed everyone on board.”
“I was lucky.” Becker answered sitting down now and reflecting on his situation more.
“Lucky how?” Anderson asked.
“I was just lucky that’s all”. Becker said. “Anyways you have to find Another raft. This one belongs to his majesty’s navy which you are not apart of”.
Anderson then looked over the side and saw the brand of the Ticonderogan Navy imprinted on it along with the ship’s name “HMS Enden”. Anderson then looked back to Becker. “Well I’m claiming it as a prize of war then. We won the battle and this boat now belongs to the Republic of Ulster”.
Becker scowled “You can’t do that. I’m still here the battle is not over”.
Anderson clenched his fists “Is that so?”
Becker then did the same and glanced at the bottom of the boat and saw an oar “It is.”
A silence then came over the men before they both tried to reach for the oar and knocked their heads into each other by accident. However, Becker was quicker to recover and grabbed the oar by the paddle end and swung it up and hit Anderson in his side. Anderson then grabbed the oar and a struggle ensued and Anderson shouted. “Give me the damn oar! You don’t even have a ship to return to you’ve already lost!”
Becker however pulled it back and shouted in return “I’ll make sure you never return to your ship then!”
The struggle continued for a few more minutes before Becker lost his grip and Anderson had full control of the oar. Anderson then raised it over his head to strike. But Becker punched him in the mouth and the oar was flung overboard and both of the men watched it sink into the ocean.
They then turned their attention back to one another and Anderson began to strangle Becker and forced him to the floor of the lifeboat. He then began shouting at the top of his lungs. “You just had to throw it overboard, didn’t you?! Our last chance to even move this junk of wood and you just had to ruin it! Now I’ll never see my daughter again!”
Becker then began to struggle to loosen Anderson's grip and shouted in return. “You’re not the only one who won’t be coming home to family!”
Anderson then let go and he sat back down on the other side of the lifeboat as Becker began breathing again. “This is pointless”. He said. “We’ll both die in a few days of starvation anyhow. There’s no use in rushing to the point”.
Becker then began to breathe normally again and gained a small amount of sympathy for his enemy. “That’s not true. We could fish. I’ve lived along the Emerald Sea my entire life.”
Anderson glanced up at Becker and nodded. “Yeah.. I guess that could work.”
Anderson then glanced over to the other side of the lifeboat and saw a tin box that Becker had previously been sitting on. “What’s that?” He asked.
Becker then stood up and picked it up while opening it. Anderson then stood alongside him and both men stared at the contents inside.
Before them was a series of rations, a flare gun, two flares, and a compass and map. All of its contents were impressive but both men stared at the flare gun in particular. They both knew whoever held it could subject the other man to his will. Anderson then spoke glancing at Becker. “Your people seem to be pretty resourceful. There’s enough rations in here to last us three days if we ration them.”
Becker then agreed. “Yeah”. He said.
Anderson then reached into the box and took out a ration and left the flare gun as he went to the other side of the lifeboat and sat down to eat it. Becker then took out his own ration along with the map and compass before setting the tin box in between them.
Becker then unfolded the map and pulled out a leaky pen before making some notes on the paper.
“I’ve never known a deckhand to carry a pen with them”. Anderson said.
“That’s because I wasn’t a deck hand”. Becker said as he looked at the compass and compared it with the map. “I was a second mate”.
Anderson then nodded and noticed his uniform now and recognized him as an officer. “Weird. I figured an officer would be the last one to leave a ship during a firefight.”
Becker then ignored his comment as he surveyed the map.
Day then turned to night and Becker frustratingly set down the map and finally spoke. “We’re lost”. He said as he rubbed his hands over his eyes.
“Brilliant observation Sir”. Anderson said with a hint of sarcasm.
Becker however was in no mood but explained himself. “We’re drifting on a current to open sea. There’s no land near us for hundreds of miles. We’ll be lucky if a ship finds us before the week is out”.
Anderson then gritted his teeth “good thing we have the flare gun”. He said. He then changed the topic and ran his fingers through his black beard. “How old are your kids?”
Becker then glanced up at him “Why are you asking?”
Anderson shrugged “I have a ten year old daughter who hates my guts because I left her and Mabel at home. What did you tell your kids to get them to not hate you?”
Becker was caught off guard by the question and shrugged. “My son Walter is ten and his brother Otto is fifteen. They weren’t really too upset when I left.”
Anderson raised an eyebrow “I’m guessing you probably spent more time at home than I did eh?”
Becker shook his head “The opposite actually. I’ve been in His Majesty’s Navy for several years now and they’ve sort of grown up without me. When I bid farewell to them it was like saying goodbye to a stranger”.
Anderson's tone shifted “That’s rough”.
Becker nodded. “In a way yes. But I grew up in the same manner. Because of our reserves system, I joined the military at a young age and they will too soon enough. At least they’ll be proud thinking I wasn’t a coward.”
Anderson shrugged. “You don’t seem like a coward to me greenback”. Anderson said referencing Becker’s uniform. “You gave us quite a bloody nose back there. My bet is they’re sailing to Blackwater right now to make repairs from the first Salvo you boys gave us.”
Becker then shook his head. “No.. A brave officer would have stayed and done his duty. Instead of running to a lifeboat when the deck caught on fire out of fear. I let my men down by not trying to find anyone else”.
Anderson then coupled his hands together and began to shiver from the cold. “You’re an officer Sir. You’re paid to be one of the smart ones and leave while you could. It’s a real shame about your men though”.
Becker then nodded and a wrinkled smile appeared across his face. “Thank you.”
However, Anderson was wearing an odd look on his face as he was staring at him.
“What?” Becker asked.
Anderson then stood up and pointed in the distance. “It’s a ship.”
Becker then looked in the same direction and sure enough they saw a hulking black mass approach them. “Holy shit!” He exclaimed. “We’re saved”.
Anderson however shook his head. “No, we’re not”.
Anderson then opened the tin box and pulled out the flare gun and loaded it. He then fired a round in the air and a streak of light lit up the area around them that was impossible to miss.
Becker now stood up and stared at the ship. “Maybe they didn’t see us. We need to fire another one”.
Anderson however shook his head. “No, they saw us we need to wait until they get closer.”
Becker however concurred “No they definitely didn’t see us. They’re sailing blindly at us we need to fire another round or they’ll miss us”.
Anderson however stood firm “No they saw us I’m going to wait”.
Becker however became impatient and tried to grab the flare gun “Give me the gun or we’ll going to be stuck out here damnit!”
Anderson then shouted back as they fought over the gun “This again? You’re as shitty as an officer as you are a father. Now let go of the gun before you get us both killed.”
Becker then took this to heart and punched him in the mouth and Anderson let go of the gun. Becker then loaded the pistol only to find Anderson's hands around it again. “I can see why your daughter never wanted to see you again you backwoods piece of garbage!”
Both of the men then struggled for the gun until they heard a booming fog horn. Becker then let go of it and spoke “Oh my God they did see us.”
He then reached to shoot the flare off again but Anderson had already fired it into the air and illuminated the area again. After adjusting the wheel the ship began to steer towards them and Anderson laughed.
“Brilliant.. my ship finally came back”. He said.
Becker then turned his head. “You’re mistaken. You said your ship was probably sailing to Blackwater that’s a Ticonderogan ship.”
Anderson shook his head “I wouldn’t mistake my ship for any other Friend. That’s an Ulsterian battleship. I can almost see the Blue and white stars from here.”
Becker then said, “We’ll just have to see won’t we?”
Anderson then nodded in agreement and the pair of sailors sat down and waited to be rescued. As it turned out both men were stunned to find the ship was no battleship at all. But rather a neutral merchant ship.
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“My fault?” Anderson asked. “I’m sitting in the same boat as you moron”.
It had been hours now since the battle and the only ones left in the water were a pair of sailors from opposing sides of the war. In a brutal twist of irony. They found themselves sitting in the same lifeboat to escape the dreadful waves of the ocean.
“Yes.” Becker continued. “The whole war is your fault, your countrymen’s included. Your breed is nothing but a band of criminals who wanted what they couldn’t have. And now as a result we find ourselves locked in a deadly war to defend our fatherland from the savages of the West”.
Anderson only sneered. “You’re not still sore we sunk your ship are you? Perhaps you shouldn’t have challenged an Ulsterian battleship and just let us take you all prisoner. This war will end like that either way and it would just be easier.”
Becker then stood up. “Such banter coming from the Victor. If your side claimed victory then why have your crewmen left you sitting in the water?”
“They didn’t” Anderson answered. “I was swept off the deck by a gust of wind. They’ll notice in no time and sail back here to get me. How did you survive anyways? When we struck the magazine the entire ship went down in seconds. I was sure that explosion killed everyone on board.”
“I was lucky.” Becker answered sitting down now and reflecting on his situation more.
“Lucky how?” Anderson asked.
“I was just lucky that’s all”. Becker said. “Anyways you have to find Another raft. This one belongs to his majesty’s navy which you are not apart of”.
Anderson then looked over the side and saw the brand of the Ticonderogan Navy imprinted on it along with the ship’s name “HMS Enden”. Anderson then looked back to Becker. “Well I’m claiming it as a prize of war then. We won the battle and this boat now belongs to the Republic of Ulster”.
Becker scowled “You can’t do that. I’m still here the battle is not over”.
Anderson clenched his fists “Is that so?”
Becker then did the same and glanced at the bottom of the boat and saw an oar “It is.”
A silence then came over the men before they both tried to reach for the oar and knocked their heads into each other by accident. However, Becker was quicker to recover and grabbed the oar by the paddle end and swung it up and hit Anderson in his side. Anderson then grabbed the oar and a struggle ensued and Anderson shouted. “Give me the damn oar! You don’t even have a ship to return to you’ve already lost!”
Becker however pulled it back and shouted in return “I’ll make sure you never return to your ship then!”
The struggle continued for a few more minutes before Becker lost his grip and Anderson had full control of the oar. Anderson then raised it over his head to strike. But Becker punched him in the mouth and the oar was flung overboard and both of the men watched it sink into the ocean.
They then turned their attention back to one another and Anderson began to strangle Becker and forced him to the floor of the lifeboat. He then began shouting at the top of his lungs. “You just had to throw it overboard, didn’t you?! Our last chance to even move this junk of wood and you just had to ruin it! Now I’ll never see my daughter again!”
Becker then began to struggle to loosen Anderson's grip and shouted in return. “You’re not the only one who won’t be coming home to family!”
Anderson then let go and he sat back down on the other side of the lifeboat as Becker began breathing again. “This is pointless”. He said. “We’ll both die in a few days of starvation anyhow. There’s no use in rushing to the point”.
Becker then began to breathe normally again and gained a small amount of sympathy for his enemy. “That’s not true. We could fish. I’ve lived along the Emerald Sea my entire life.”
Anderson glanced up at Becker and nodded. “Yeah.. I guess that could work.”
Anderson then glanced over to the other side of the lifeboat and saw a tin box that Becker had previously been sitting on. “What’s that?” He asked.
Becker then stood up and picked it up while opening it. Anderson then stood alongside him and both men stared at the contents inside.
Before them was a series of rations, a flare gun, two flares, and a compass and map. All of its contents were impressive but both men stared at the flare gun in particular. They both knew whoever held it could subject the other man to his will. Anderson then spoke glancing at Becker. “Your people seem to be pretty resourceful. There’s enough rations in here to last us three days if we ration them.”
Becker then agreed. “Yeah”. He said.
Anderson then reached into the box and took out a ration and left the flare gun as he went to the other side of the lifeboat and sat down to eat it. Becker then took out his own ration along with the map and compass before setting the tin box in between them.
Becker then unfolded the map and pulled out a leaky pen before making some notes on the paper.
“I’ve never known a deckhand to carry a pen with them”. Anderson said.
“That’s because I wasn’t a deck hand”. Becker said as he looked at the compass and compared it with the map. “I was a second mate”.
Anderson then nodded and noticed his uniform now and recognized him as an officer. “Weird. I figured an officer would be the last one to leave a ship during a firefight.”
Becker then ignored his comment as he surveyed the map.
Day then turned to night and Becker frustratingly set down the map and finally spoke. “We’re lost”. He said as he rubbed his hands over his eyes.
“Brilliant observation Sir”. Anderson said with a hint of sarcasm.
Becker however was in no mood but explained himself. “We’re drifting on a current to open sea. There’s no land near us for hundreds of miles. We’ll be lucky if a ship finds us before the week is out”.
Anderson then gritted his teeth “good thing we have the flare gun”. He said. He then changed the topic and ran his fingers through his black beard. “How old are your kids?”
Becker then glanced up at him “Why are you asking?”
Anderson shrugged “I have a ten year old daughter who hates my guts because I left her and Mabel at home. What did you tell your kids to get them to not hate you?”
Becker was caught off guard by the question and shrugged. “My son Walter is ten and his brother Otto is fifteen. They weren’t really too upset when I left.”
Anderson raised an eyebrow “I’m guessing you probably spent more time at home than I did eh?”
Becker shook his head “The opposite actually. I’ve been in His Majesty’s Navy for several years now and they’ve sort of grown up without me. When I bid farewell to them it was like saying goodbye to a stranger”.
Anderson's tone shifted “That’s rough”.
Becker nodded. “In a way yes. But I grew up in the same manner. Because of our reserves system, I joined the military at a young age and they will too soon enough. At least they’ll be proud thinking I wasn’t a coward.”
Anderson shrugged. “You don’t seem like a coward to me greenback”. Anderson said referencing Becker’s uniform. “You gave us quite a bloody nose back there. My bet is they’re sailing to Blackwater right now to make repairs from the first Salvo you boys gave us.”
Becker then shook his head. “No.. A brave officer would have stayed and done his duty. Instead of running to a lifeboat when the deck caught on fire out of fear. I let my men down by not trying to find anyone else”.
Anderson then coupled his hands together and began to shiver from the cold. “You’re an officer Sir. You’re paid to be one of the smart ones and leave while you could. It’s a real shame about your men though”.
Becker then nodded and a wrinkled smile appeared across his face. “Thank you.”
However, Anderson was wearing an odd look on his face as he was staring at him.
“What?” Becker asked.
Anderson then stood up and pointed in the distance. “It’s a ship.”
Becker then looked in the same direction and sure enough they saw a hulking black mass approach them. “Holy shit!” He exclaimed. “We’re saved”.
Anderson however shook his head. “No, we’re not”.
Anderson then opened the tin box and pulled out the flare gun and loaded it. He then fired a round in the air and a streak of light lit up the area around them that was impossible to miss.
Becker now stood up and stared at the ship. “Maybe they didn’t see us. We need to fire another one”.
Anderson however shook his head. “No, they saw us we need to wait until they get closer.”
Becker however concurred “No they definitely didn’t see us. They’re sailing blindly at us we need to fire another round or they’ll miss us”.
Anderson however stood firm “No they saw us I’m going to wait”.
Becker however became impatient and tried to grab the flare gun “Give me the gun or we’ll going to be stuck out here damnit!”
Anderson then shouted back as they fought over the gun “This again? You’re as shitty as an officer as you are a father. Now let go of the gun before you get us both killed.”
Becker then took this to heart and punched him in the mouth and Anderson let go of the gun. Becker then loaded the pistol only to find Anderson's hands around it again. “I can see why your daughter never wanted to see you again you backwoods piece of garbage!”
Both of the men then struggled for the gun until they heard a booming fog horn. Becker then let go of it and spoke “Oh my God they did see us.”
He then reached to shoot the flare off again but Anderson had already fired it into the air and illuminated the area again. After adjusting the wheel the ship began to steer towards them and Anderson laughed.
“Brilliant.. my ship finally came back”. He said.
Becker then turned his head. “You’re mistaken. You said your ship was probably sailing to Blackwater that’s a Ticonderogan ship.”
Anderson shook his head “I wouldn’t mistake my ship for any other Friend. That’s an Ulsterian battleship. I can almost see the Blue and white stars from here.”
Becker then said, “We’ll just have to see won’t we?”
Anderson then nodded in agreement and the pair of sailors sat down and waited to be rescued. As it turned out both men were stunned to find the ship was no battleship at all. But rather a neutral merchant ship.
2023.05.06 01:44 OffTakasakiDev Expanse Story 1 - The Outlaws
It was noon when the Black Fox rode into town, his white mare trailing dust behind her. Any unarmed folk outside hurried in, any shutter still open closed. Those with guns - most of whom wore a bandage somewhere on their body - moved to the doorways and windows, arms ready. Only one person stood in Ereston’s main street, 10 yards or so in front of the town hall - a portly old man with a shotgun ready in his arms. The town’s Sheriff, most likely. The merc’s mare, Silver, reared up as they approached the man.
“Steady, girl…” he said under his breath, getting his horse under control. When Silver calmed, he dismounted.
“You here to make trouble, ranger?” the sheriff asked, levelling his shotgun at the rider. He said the word ranger with venom, Fox’s black armour betraying him again. Once it had meant something. Once, his riding into town would have provoked a different reaction. But a lot can change in a decade. Now, a man in black was as likely to be an outlaw as he was to be a lawman. It made the merc sick, but what could he do? He wasn’t a ranger either. Not anymore.
And if I paint my armour blue, Fox thought, they’d hang me as a deserter.
“What happened here?” Fox asked in reply, looking around. He wasn’t here to cause trouble, but he had a feeling that if he said so the town might not believe him. Everybody looked jumpy. Frightened. Maybe half the town was gripping their guns, waiting for his next move - eyes on the twin holsters he wore on his hips. Outlaws? He thought, making sure to keep his hands well away from his guns.
“Some hooligans wandered into town a few days ago.” the Sheriff said, shotgun still held high. “Bad bunch. We tried to get ‘em outta here. Didn’t work.” Fox glanced at the townsfolk around the street again - they all had dour looks on their faces. They must have done some damage. Killed some. Captured others?
Fox turned back to the Sheriff. “How bad was it?”
“12 of us dead.” The portly man’s voice cracked slightly as he spoke. Must be a good chunk of the population, Fox thought - town couldn’t have had more than 60 people or so. “Stole half the liquor in town, and most of our horses. As many crowns as they could take.” The Sheriff shook his head, trying to compose himself. “And they took Lan’s girls as well… Cora and Eilís.”
The Black Fox could feel the anger in the town as the Sheriff said those words - could make out some of the townsfolk cursing under their breaths. “How many?” he asked.
“What’s it to you, ranger? You gonna hunt them down or somethin’? Once upon a time y’all would’ve shown up here before they raided our town, killed our boys and stole our girls.” A murmur of agreement spread through the street.
“Once. Not now.” Fox shook his head. “30 crowns, and they’re dead. You have my word.”
The Sheriff spat out a laugh. “You, on your own? You take that armour off a dead man and think you’re St. Adean?”
“How many, Sheriff?”
The Sheriff fell silent, eyes narrowing, gun still levelled. He was sizing the merc up. “About 10 or 11.” he said, finally lowering his gun. “Well armed. When they started shooting we barely had time to react. We aren’t soldiers, by God…” But they were. Fox thought. Who knew where they’d come from. Maybe they were former Republic military men, finally breaking after years of low wages and poor conditions. Maybe they were ruinborn. Rzenta deserters, or Juzornic remnants.
The Sheriff continued, nodding towards a pair of repeater-wielding townsfolk standing on a shop-porch. “Celgal and Rean tracked them to the old blackwater creek, about half a day’s ride from here. We don’t have the arms or the manpower to go deal with them. Most of us are wounded… if all of us who could still fight went after ‘em, it’d be suicide. You won’t survive this, ranger.”
Fox turned towards the two trackers. “Can you take me to them?”
The Black Fox scanned the cliffs around the creek as the three riders made their way through it, one hand on his right holster and another on the reins. They were still a ways off from the outlaw camp, but it was never good to lower your guard. If the outlaws knew they were coming, they’d want to ambush them before they got within eyesight of their hideout - and the merc could make out some good firing positions along the rockfaces. It’d be hard climbing even for rangers, though. Odds were they were safe.
As he rode on, Celgal moved in closer beside him on his horse. He was very young, but clearly worn from his work - Ereston was a trade town, mostly, but Celgal and Rean seemed to both be hunters. “So I was wondering… why’d you decide to help us?” He asked, lowering his voice in an effort to hide the talk from the other Erestoner.
He failed. “You blind, Cel?” Rean said. “His armour is black, not blue. He’ll actually show up when something happens, sure, but he’s a mercenary. He’s doing it for the coin.”
Celgal scoffed. “That’s a load’a bull. You’re from old Tellumtir, aren’t you? One of the Rogue Rangers. The good ones - not those outlaws who pretend they used to be rangers. I can see it in your eyes! Or, uh…” Fox turned towards him, face hidden beneath the red lenses and black metal of his helmet. “Well, if I could see your eyes, I’d be able to see some ranger spirit in them.”
Fox looked straight ahead again. “I’m doing it for the coin.” he said curtly. Celgal wasn’t wrong, not really. But Rean’s measure of him was a lot more accurate. That past was better left dead and buried.
“Oh…” Fox could hear the tone of Celgal’s voice drop along with his mood. “Well… I guess I hope you fight good, then. Cora’s a good friend to me…” the young hunter went silent, visibly deflated. Nobody said a word for the rest of the journey.
It was around sunset when the three reached the camp. They’d dismounted and tied up their horses a ways off, and had crept up the rest of the way - it was difficult going, and the ground had a lot of dried branches and shrubs on it that made suppressing noise difficult, but the two hunters were evidently adept at it, and Fox had plenty of experience himself. They managed to reach the camp without being alerted, lying prone in some undergrowth some distance away from it - their position was covered by the shadow of the mountains to either side of the creek. A good position, unlikely to be spotted first. This’ll be simple.
Fox studied the outlaws in the camp, turning a dial on his helmet that allowed him to magnify the zoom on his visor lenses, bringing the outlaws into sharp distinction. Ranger Armour MkII - known as “black armour” to most - was the pinnacle of ranger equipment and technology. Bringing together the design philosophies of both Ynnic plate and Cannorian artificery, the sight of them had once struck terror into the hearts of outlaws and Epednar alike. But after the coup, and after the desertion, things had gotten a lot more complicated. The townsfolk were right to be wary of the sight of it - more suits were in the hands of those outside the law than those who kept it.
Blue Armour - the MkIII - was found only in the hands of the Republic Rangers. They didn’t have the same reputation, good or bad. They were simply downgraded and mass produced MkII. A symbol of the republic in more ways than one - though you at least knew someone wearing it wouldn’t rob or kill you.
“They’re arguing.” Fox said to his two companions, his voice at a whisper. “Split down the middle, looks like.” There were a few Ruinborn there (or perhaps elves), but they were mostly human. Republic deserters, most likely. Fox moved his gaze towards one group - he could make out two young women - bound - behind them. “See the girls. Not dead. Think they’re arguing about them.”
Rean cursed under his breath. “Probably wonderin’ what to do with them. I swear, if they aren’t in one piece…!” Fox could hear Celgal’s breath quicken to his left - they were both obviously concerned, and Fox couldn’t blame them. The Expanse attracted plenty of good people, sure, but just as many bad. And when you let the bad folk run wild? When law is nowhere to be found, and any man can do as he pleases?
The Rangers existed for a reason. Fox thought, taking a deep breath as he moved his gaze around the rest of the camp. One day, maybe the Expanse’ll remember that.
“I see the horses, and the loot.” It didn’t take long for the merc to come up with a plan. “You two, fan out. Celgal take the right, Rean the left. Ready your rifles - I’ll take the middle.”
“What’s that mean?” the younger hunter asked, raising an eyebrow, as Fox turned the dial back and restored his normal vision. “There’s a lot of them there - and if we start shooting from afar they’ll figure out real quick where we are.”
“They won’t be shooting at you.” Fox said, prompting a confused sound from Celgal. “And I won’t be shooting from afar.”
“A distraction? Take their eyes off us while we do the damage?” Rean asked. “Your armour… makes sense. But there’s a lot of them. And the black don’t make you invincible. You sure you can hold out long enough for us to do the work?”
“Certain.” Underneath his helmet, Fox smiled. He wasn’t the distraction - they were. They didn’t need to know that, though. All he needed was a little confusion, one feather on Ara’s scales, and this fight was already over.
“Alright.” Fox said. “I’ll move up. When I make myself known, start firing. Move quick.” Rean and Celgal nodded, slinking off to their positions. The merc moved forwards at a crouch, as quietly as he could.
As he moved forwards, the voices of the outlaws became far clearer. “I told you time and again, there’s nothing more from that hole to take!” One outlaw said, pointing an accusatory finger at another of his group. “Who cares if we “damage the goods”? What sorta ransom are we gonna get from those paupers anyway?”
“Paupers? By the Ynn, Riccan, do you ever think about anything long-term?” This was the ruinborn Fox had seen earlier - the one leading the group guarding the two women. “We aren’t ransoming them to Ereston! I see a clean break from here to the Ynn. Get them there in one piece and I know for sure we’ll find some Rzentan lord who would gladly take them for far more crowns than we’d get raiding around here. Hell, we could even sell them to some back-water saloon here in the Expanse!”
Fox grimaced as he came to a rock nearby the camp, still out of sight. Outlaws made him sick. Always had. But if he had to rank outlaws based on how sickening they were, slavers would be near the top of the list. At least he didn’t need to feel bad about killing them. Fox turned, looking behind him to where Celgal and Rean were - they looked to be in position. Good, let’s do this.
Fox rose, then started marching towards the camp, steps heavy, stomping on everything in his path. It didn’t take long for the outlaws to notice him - they turned with bemusement in their eyes. They saw the armour - but they didn’t understand what they were dealing with.
“Oh, a hero!” one outlaw said. “You come for the girls?”
“Maybe he’s here to join us! Could be anyone beneath that armour.”
“Could be one of us in a minute!”
“Hah!” One laughed. “I like that sound of that!”
They started to reach for their guns - lazily, though. Without urgency. Big mistake.
The mercenary drew his pistols in one practised, fluid motion. A flash of silver, and every face in the outlaw gang changed at once. An instant later, two outlaws fell, bolts of roiling fire scorching skin and tearing through bone and muscle. The camp exploded into shouts, movement, fear.
Then the hunters opened fire - both missed, and Fox could hear them cursing their nerves from behind him, but it didn’t matter. They didn’t need to hit their targets - the noise alone would be enough. Some of the outlaws turned to see where the other fire had come from. One feather on Ara’s scales, he thought, smiling underneath his helmet.
Fox worked his way through the outlaws methodically. His arms jerked, and the pistols’ maws flashed, and dead men fell to the ground. A bullet struck his helmet, jerking his head to the side, but it barely slowed him down - an instant later, and the man who had fired the shot was on the floor, gripping his arm as a firebolt tore through it. Another outlaw charged him with a broadsword and a shout, but the mercenary simply rolled out of the way - his right pistol fired, and the outlaw fell to the ground, half of his ankle gone. A blast of flame from the left, and the man fell still. Another outlaw raised his Sparkdrive rifle at Fox, but a regular bullet tore through his neck as he fired, sending a bolt of lightning flashing into the sunset-sky as he fell. Celgal’s work, probably.
At this point, whatever outlaws were left started running. Fox didn’t let them. Fire cut through the shadows of the mountains, as the fleeing bandits fell one by one. The valley fell silent - except for one voice, laboured and shaky. Fox turned towards the remaining outlaw, the one he’d shot in the arm, and walked over to him, readying his twin pistols.
“You… you’re-!” the outlaw’s eyes were filled with terror as he stared down the barrels of the two pistols - and down their maws. Angry-looking silver fox heads adorned the tips of the barrels, eyes narrowed and teeth bared in an angry snarl. “The Twin Foxfire! By the gods, you’re-!”
“I am not a ranger anymore…” Fox said. The Twin Foxfire - the Ladhá Vulsintein - fired, barrel-maws unleashing two bolts of fire that ripped through the outlaw’s torso, and sent him to Nerat.
Fox turned around. Rean was standing there, rifle slung over his shoulder, eyes wide.
“You’re the Black Fox… the one who ran…”
“I’m just a mercenary.” Fox replied, as he holstered his pistols. “And that’s all I’ll ever be.”
By the time the entire group made it back to town, it was dawn. All the excess weight - all the other loot they’d both taken back and taken from the outlaw’s corpses - slowed them down, though the extra horses certainly came in handy for carrying them. When they arrived, the town was as empty as when Fox had first arrived - but it didn’t take long for that to change. Soon after the first townsfolk had laid their eyes on the returning group, the entire remaining population seemed to crowd around them, cheering and embracing those who had returned - and though none seemed willing to put their arms around the mercenary, he got his own share of thanks.
It took a while for the Sheriff to make his way through the crowd - his eyes had dark lines underneath them, as if he hadn’t slept at all through the night, but the portly old man seemed more energetic than he had any right to be. “By God, thank you sir, thank you! I cannot tell you how grateful - how gosh darn grateful I am! I don’t know the theology, ranger, I really don’t, but I would have sworn the almighty had sent you down to us like- like St. Corin! Or St. Munas!”
Fox just stared at him blankly. He’d finished the job, and now he just wanted it to be over. And he wished people would stop calling him a ranger. “I’m not Corin, and I’m no Munas. And I’m not a ranger. My 30 crowns - I already took them from the outlaw’s loot.”
The Sheriff seemed caught off guard. “You’re not a ranger, sir? Didn’t used to be? I know there’s some bad folk in that armour, sure, but… well, you saved us!”
“Oh he was a ranger, Sheriff, he is one, by God!” That was Celgal’s voice, cutting in. The young hunter moved through the crowd towards him. “He wields the Foxfire, Sheriff!”
The crowd hushed as the words came out of Celgal’s mouth, though the boy didn’t seem to grasp why. He might have been the only one there who didn’t.
He was 16, then. Too young. Far too young.
“I… why’s everyone looking at him like that? What happened?”
Another member of the crowd stepped and whispered something into his ear - the boy’s eyes went as wide as the others had. That story was as well known as the guns themselves - of how their last wielder had torn the Rangers in two. Thrown the Republic into chaos. And, even worse, how their last wielder had refused to face the consequences. How they had murdered their own father to save their life, and their armour.
Fox took deep breath as he turned back to the Sheriff. “A bed, a drink and some food… I’ll be gone tomorrow morning.” He could feel the stares of everyone in town. A mix of gratitude and contempt. Terrible contempt.
Warranted, of course. He was half the reason the attack had happened in the first place. Why there weren’t enough rangers anymore. Why those who wore the black armour were more likely to be bad than good.
The Sheriff nodded. “You saved our town, Black Fox, sir. Save Lan’s girls too. We’re grateful, no matter what you did in the past…” Fox waved him away, cutting through the crowd on Silver, heading towards the saloon’s stables. The crowd did not follow, instead reforming around Rean and Celgal, the new heroes of the hour. They deserved it more than he did anyway.
The Sheriff wasn’t going to kick him out. The townsfolk weren’t going to spit on him, call him names, wish him dead. But they weren’t going to celebrate him either. That was just how it worked. Fox had been through this time and time again. He was a marked man. He could save the world, and it wouldn’t wipe the shame of his betrayal. Why should it, if he’d doomed it in the first place? He’d come to terms with that.
But that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to try. He’d killed his father to save his life - and he sure as hell wasn’t going to waste it.
END - might make more of these. Will post them here if I do. p.s if you like and want more writing like this play gemradcurt (bitbucket only) I made it and wrote like 20k words in events for it.
submitted by OffTakasakiDev to Anbennar [link] [comments]
“Steady, girl…” he said under his breath, getting his horse under control. When Silver calmed, he dismounted.
“You here to make trouble, ranger?” the sheriff asked, levelling his shotgun at the rider. He said the word ranger with venom, Fox’s black armour betraying him again. Once it had meant something. Once, his riding into town would have provoked a different reaction. But a lot can change in a decade. Now, a man in black was as likely to be an outlaw as he was to be a lawman. It made the merc sick, but what could he do? He wasn’t a ranger either. Not anymore.
And if I paint my armour blue, Fox thought, they’d hang me as a deserter.
“What happened here?” Fox asked in reply, looking around. He wasn’t here to cause trouble, but he had a feeling that if he said so the town might not believe him. Everybody looked jumpy. Frightened. Maybe half the town was gripping their guns, waiting for his next move - eyes on the twin holsters he wore on his hips. Outlaws? He thought, making sure to keep his hands well away from his guns.
“Some hooligans wandered into town a few days ago.” the Sheriff said, shotgun still held high. “Bad bunch. We tried to get ‘em outta here. Didn’t work.” Fox glanced at the townsfolk around the street again - they all had dour looks on their faces. They must have done some damage. Killed some. Captured others?
Fox turned back to the Sheriff. “How bad was it?”
“12 of us dead.” The portly man’s voice cracked slightly as he spoke. Must be a good chunk of the population, Fox thought - town couldn’t have had more than 60 people or so. “Stole half the liquor in town, and most of our horses. As many crowns as they could take.” The Sheriff shook his head, trying to compose himself. “And they took Lan’s girls as well… Cora and Eilís.”
The Black Fox could feel the anger in the town as the Sheriff said those words - could make out some of the townsfolk cursing under their breaths. “How many?” he asked.
“What’s it to you, ranger? You gonna hunt them down or somethin’? Once upon a time y’all would’ve shown up here before they raided our town, killed our boys and stole our girls.” A murmur of agreement spread through the street.
“Once. Not now.” Fox shook his head. “30 crowns, and they’re dead. You have my word.”
The Sheriff spat out a laugh. “You, on your own? You take that armour off a dead man and think you’re St. Adean?”
“How many, Sheriff?”
The Sheriff fell silent, eyes narrowing, gun still levelled. He was sizing the merc up. “About 10 or 11.” he said, finally lowering his gun. “Well armed. When they started shooting we barely had time to react. We aren’t soldiers, by God…” But they were. Fox thought. Who knew where they’d come from. Maybe they were former Republic military men, finally breaking after years of low wages and poor conditions. Maybe they were ruinborn. Rzenta deserters, or Juzornic remnants.
The Sheriff continued, nodding towards a pair of repeater-wielding townsfolk standing on a shop-porch. “Celgal and Rean tracked them to the old blackwater creek, about half a day’s ride from here. We don’t have the arms or the manpower to go deal with them. Most of us are wounded… if all of us who could still fight went after ‘em, it’d be suicide. You won’t survive this, ranger.”
Fox turned towards the two trackers. “Can you take me to them?”
The Black Fox scanned the cliffs around the creek as the three riders made their way through it, one hand on his right holster and another on the reins. They were still a ways off from the outlaw camp, but it was never good to lower your guard. If the outlaws knew they were coming, they’d want to ambush them before they got within eyesight of their hideout - and the merc could make out some good firing positions along the rockfaces. It’d be hard climbing even for rangers, though. Odds were they were safe.
As he rode on, Celgal moved in closer beside him on his horse. He was very young, but clearly worn from his work - Ereston was a trade town, mostly, but Celgal and Rean seemed to both be hunters. “So I was wondering… why’d you decide to help us?” He asked, lowering his voice in an effort to hide the talk from the other Erestoner.
He failed. “You blind, Cel?” Rean said. “His armour is black, not blue. He’ll actually show up when something happens, sure, but he’s a mercenary. He’s doing it for the coin.”
Celgal scoffed. “That’s a load’a bull. You’re from old Tellumtir, aren’t you? One of the Rogue Rangers. The good ones - not those outlaws who pretend they used to be rangers. I can see it in your eyes! Or, uh…” Fox turned towards him, face hidden beneath the red lenses and black metal of his helmet. “Well, if I could see your eyes, I’d be able to see some ranger spirit in them.”
Fox looked straight ahead again. “I’m doing it for the coin.” he said curtly. Celgal wasn’t wrong, not really. But Rean’s measure of him was a lot more accurate. That past was better left dead and buried.
“Oh…” Fox could hear the tone of Celgal’s voice drop along with his mood. “Well… I guess I hope you fight good, then. Cora’s a good friend to me…” the young hunter went silent, visibly deflated. Nobody said a word for the rest of the journey.
It was around sunset when the three reached the camp. They’d dismounted and tied up their horses a ways off, and had crept up the rest of the way - it was difficult going, and the ground had a lot of dried branches and shrubs on it that made suppressing noise difficult, but the two hunters were evidently adept at it, and Fox had plenty of experience himself. They managed to reach the camp without being alerted, lying prone in some undergrowth some distance away from it - their position was covered by the shadow of the mountains to either side of the creek. A good position, unlikely to be spotted first. This’ll be simple.
Fox studied the outlaws in the camp, turning a dial on his helmet that allowed him to magnify the zoom on his visor lenses, bringing the outlaws into sharp distinction. Ranger Armour MkII - known as “black armour” to most - was the pinnacle of ranger equipment and technology. Bringing together the design philosophies of both Ynnic plate and Cannorian artificery, the sight of them had once struck terror into the hearts of outlaws and Epednar alike. But after the coup, and after the desertion, things had gotten a lot more complicated. The townsfolk were right to be wary of the sight of it - more suits were in the hands of those outside the law than those who kept it.
Blue Armour - the MkIII - was found only in the hands of the Republic Rangers. They didn’t have the same reputation, good or bad. They were simply downgraded and mass produced MkII. A symbol of the republic in more ways than one - though you at least knew someone wearing it wouldn’t rob or kill you.
“They’re arguing.” Fox said to his two companions, his voice at a whisper. “Split down the middle, looks like.” There were a few Ruinborn there (or perhaps elves), but they were mostly human. Republic deserters, most likely. Fox moved his gaze towards one group - he could make out two young women - bound - behind them. “See the girls. Not dead. Think they’re arguing about them.”
Rean cursed under his breath. “Probably wonderin’ what to do with them. I swear, if they aren’t in one piece…!” Fox could hear Celgal’s breath quicken to his left - they were both obviously concerned, and Fox couldn’t blame them. The Expanse attracted plenty of good people, sure, but just as many bad. And when you let the bad folk run wild? When law is nowhere to be found, and any man can do as he pleases?
The Rangers existed for a reason. Fox thought, taking a deep breath as he moved his gaze around the rest of the camp. One day, maybe the Expanse’ll remember that.
“I see the horses, and the loot.” It didn’t take long for the merc to come up with a plan. “You two, fan out. Celgal take the right, Rean the left. Ready your rifles - I’ll take the middle.”
“What’s that mean?” the younger hunter asked, raising an eyebrow, as Fox turned the dial back and restored his normal vision. “There’s a lot of them there - and if we start shooting from afar they’ll figure out real quick where we are.”
“They won’t be shooting at you.” Fox said, prompting a confused sound from Celgal. “And I won’t be shooting from afar.”
“A distraction? Take their eyes off us while we do the damage?” Rean asked. “Your armour… makes sense. But there’s a lot of them. And the black don’t make you invincible. You sure you can hold out long enough for us to do the work?”
“Certain.” Underneath his helmet, Fox smiled. He wasn’t the distraction - they were. They didn’t need to know that, though. All he needed was a little confusion, one feather on Ara’s scales, and this fight was already over.
“Alright.” Fox said. “I’ll move up. When I make myself known, start firing. Move quick.” Rean and Celgal nodded, slinking off to their positions. The merc moved forwards at a crouch, as quietly as he could.
As he moved forwards, the voices of the outlaws became far clearer. “I told you time and again, there’s nothing more from that hole to take!” One outlaw said, pointing an accusatory finger at another of his group. “Who cares if we “damage the goods”? What sorta ransom are we gonna get from those paupers anyway?”
“Paupers? By the Ynn, Riccan, do you ever think about anything long-term?” This was the ruinborn Fox had seen earlier - the one leading the group guarding the two women. “We aren’t ransoming them to Ereston! I see a clean break from here to the Ynn. Get them there in one piece and I know for sure we’ll find some Rzentan lord who would gladly take them for far more crowns than we’d get raiding around here. Hell, we could even sell them to some back-water saloon here in the Expanse!”
Fox grimaced as he came to a rock nearby the camp, still out of sight. Outlaws made him sick. Always had. But if he had to rank outlaws based on how sickening they were, slavers would be near the top of the list. At least he didn’t need to feel bad about killing them. Fox turned, looking behind him to where Celgal and Rean were - they looked to be in position. Good, let’s do this.
Fox rose, then started marching towards the camp, steps heavy, stomping on everything in his path. It didn’t take long for the outlaws to notice him - they turned with bemusement in their eyes. They saw the armour - but they didn’t understand what they were dealing with.
“Oh, a hero!” one outlaw said. “You come for the girls?”
“Maybe he’s here to join us! Could be anyone beneath that armour.”
“Could be one of us in a minute!”
“Hah!” One laughed. “I like that sound of that!”
They started to reach for their guns - lazily, though. Without urgency. Big mistake.
The mercenary drew his pistols in one practised, fluid motion. A flash of silver, and every face in the outlaw gang changed at once. An instant later, two outlaws fell, bolts of roiling fire scorching skin and tearing through bone and muscle. The camp exploded into shouts, movement, fear.
Then the hunters opened fire - both missed, and Fox could hear them cursing their nerves from behind him, but it didn’t matter. They didn’t need to hit their targets - the noise alone would be enough. Some of the outlaws turned to see where the other fire had come from. One feather on Ara’s scales, he thought, smiling underneath his helmet.
Fox worked his way through the outlaws methodically. His arms jerked, and the pistols’ maws flashed, and dead men fell to the ground. A bullet struck his helmet, jerking his head to the side, but it barely slowed him down - an instant later, and the man who had fired the shot was on the floor, gripping his arm as a firebolt tore through it. Another outlaw charged him with a broadsword and a shout, but the mercenary simply rolled out of the way - his right pistol fired, and the outlaw fell to the ground, half of his ankle gone. A blast of flame from the left, and the man fell still. Another outlaw raised his Sparkdrive rifle at Fox, but a regular bullet tore through his neck as he fired, sending a bolt of lightning flashing into the sunset-sky as he fell. Celgal’s work, probably.
At this point, whatever outlaws were left started running. Fox didn’t let them. Fire cut through the shadows of the mountains, as the fleeing bandits fell one by one. The valley fell silent - except for one voice, laboured and shaky. Fox turned towards the remaining outlaw, the one he’d shot in the arm, and walked over to him, readying his twin pistols.
“You… you’re-!” the outlaw’s eyes were filled with terror as he stared down the barrels of the two pistols - and down their maws. Angry-looking silver fox heads adorned the tips of the barrels, eyes narrowed and teeth bared in an angry snarl. “The Twin Foxfire! By the gods, you’re-!”
“I am not a ranger anymore…” Fox said. The Twin Foxfire - the Ladhá Vulsintein - fired, barrel-maws unleashing two bolts of fire that ripped through the outlaw’s torso, and sent him to Nerat.
Fox turned around. Rean was standing there, rifle slung over his shoulder, eyes wide.
“You’re the Black Fox… the one who ran…”
“I’m just a mercenary.” Fox replied, as he holstered his pistols. “And that’s all I’ll ever be.”
By the time the entire group made it back to town, it was dawn. All the excess weight - all the other loot they’d both taken back and taken from the outlaw’s corpses - slowed them down, though the extra horses certainly came in handy for carrying them. When they arrived, the town was as empty as when Fox had first arrived - but it didn’t take long for that to change. Soon after the first townsfolk had laid their eyes on the returning group, the entire remaining population seemed to crowd around them, cheering and embracing those who had returned - and though none seemed willing to put their arms around the mercenary, he got his own share of thanks.
It took a while for the Sheriff to make his way through the crowd - his eyes had dark lines underneath them, as if he hadn’t slept at all through the night, but the portly old man seemed more energetic than he had any right to be. “By God, thank you sir, thank you! I cannot tell you how grateful - how gosh darn grateful I am! I don’t know the theology, ranger, I really don’t, but I would have sworn the almighty had sent you down to us like- like St. Corin! Or St. Munas!”
Fox just stared at him blankly. He’d finished the job, and now he just wanted it to be over. And he wished people would stop calling him a ranger. “I’m not Corin, and I’m no Munas. And I’m not a ranger. My 30 crowns - I already took them from the outlaw’s loot.”
The Sheriff seemed caught off guard. “You’re not a ranger, sir? Didn’t used to be? I know there’s some bad folk in that armour, sure, but… well, you saved us!”
“Oh he was a ranger, Sheriff, he is one, by God!” That was Celgal’s voice, cutting in. The young hunter moved through the crowd towards him. “He wields the Foxfire, Sheriff!”
The crowd hushed as the words came out of Celgal’s mouth, though the boy didn’t seem to grasp why. He might have been the only one there who didn’t.
He was 16, then. Too young. Far too young.
“I… why’s everyone looking at him like that? What happened?”
Another member of the crowd stepped and whispered something into his ear - the boy’s eyes went as wide as the others had. That story was as well known as the guns themselves - of how their last wielder had torn the Rangers in two. Thrown the Republic into chaos. And, even worse, how their last wielder had refused to face the consequences. How they had murdered their own father to save their life, and their armour.
Fox took deep breath as he turned back to the Sheriff. “A bed, a drink and some food… I’ll be gone tomorrow morning.” He could feel the stares of everyone in town. A mix of gratitude and contempt. Terrible contempt.
Warranted, of course. He was half the reason the attack had happened in the first place. Why there weren’t enough rangers anymore. Why those who wore the black armour were more likely to be bad than good.
The Sheriff nodded. “You saved our town, Black Fox, sir. Save Lan’s girls too. We’re grateful, no matter what you did in the past…” Fox waved him away, cutting through the crowd on Silver, heading towards the saloon’s stables. The crowd did not follow, instead reforming around Rean and Celgal, the new heroes of the hour. They deserved it more than he did anyway.
The Sheriff wasn’t going to kick him out. The townsfolk weren’t going to spit on him, call him names, wish him dead. But they weren’t going to celebrate him either. That was just how it worked. Fox had been through this time and time again. He was a marked man. He could save the world, and it wouldn’t wipe the shame of his betrayal. Why should it, if he’d doomed it in the first place? He’d come to terms with that.
But that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to try. He’d killed his father to save his life - and he sure as hell wasn’t going to waste it.
END - might make more of these. Will post them here if I do. p.s if you like and want more writing like this play gemradcurt (bitbucket only) I made it and wrote like 20k words in events for it.
2023.04.23 16:01 Null_Codes Tips for Soloing Darkmoor with a Storm
I'm currently a level 101 storm wizard that just finished Khrysalis part one and has soloed most of the game so far. I only had help with gear farming in Mount Olympus and Waterworks.
I was wondering if I had any chance of Soloing darkmoor just by myself, or is it just a waste of time to even try? I got through Howling Chaney after a few tries, but had to leave during my Sir Blackwater attempts. Assuming the rest of the dungeons do take a while, I plan on farming it with others after I've soloed it alone.
Current gear setup: Waterworks hat Waterworks robe Level 100 Halston slippers (also have waterworks boots but I know those are just plain worse) Sky iron hasta Athame: Warlord's Blade of Gusts Amulet: Sacred Burrower Pendant (would like to switch this, but can't find a much better alternative from a source I can currently reach) Ring: Alpha and Omega Deck: Spiked Set (but am just a mote of severity and a couple fish away from a crafted deck I found in darkmoor) Didn't even want to post pet because I'm really working on trying to get something better, but has one that gives +21 damage, along with crit and mana :(
I'll take the time to acquire any suggested gear before this (preferably not pack gear), and already plan on farming a bit for jewels.
submitted by Null_Codes to Wizard101 [link] [comments]
I was wondering if I had any chance of Soloing darkmoor just by myself, or is it just a waste of time to even try? I got through Howling Chaney after a few tries, but had to leave during my Sir Blackwater attempts. Assuming the rest of the dungeons do take a while, I plan on farming it with others after I've soloed it alone.
Current gear setup: Waterworks hat Waterworks robe Level 100 Halston slippers (also have waterworks boots but I know those are just plain worse) Sky iron hasta Athame: Warlord's Blade of Gusts Amulet: Sacred Burrower Pendant (would like to switch this, but can't find a much better alternative from a source I can currently reach) Ring: Alpha and Omega Deck: Spiked Set (but am just a mote of severity and a couple fish away from a crafted deck I found in darkmoor) Didn't even want to post pet because I'm really working on trying to get something better, but has one that gives +21 damage, along with crit and mana :(
I'll take the time to acquire any suggested gear before this (preferably not pack gear), and already plan on farming a bit for jewels.
2023.04.21 23:12 trimminator [RF] The Prisoner
“This really is a beautiful country”. Sherman said to himself as they rode along the trail.
The Bushlands was indeed a beautiful country, but it was one gripped with bloodshed and violence. Just 2 years ago an upstart Nakoda shaman named Red Horse convinced his tribe to rebel against their overlords from the North and after several victories against the bluecoats managed to cause the entire country to run red with the blood of rebellion. However 2 years later his reign of terror was coming to an end and the Nakoda rebels were close at hand to facing defeat. But the Battlefield wouldn’t be a place for Sherman, as he and his friends namely the recently promoted Corporal Miles and the recently demoted Boone had been tasked with escorting a Nakoda prisoner all the way to Fort Worth to stand trial for his crimes. The oddest part was however, they didn’t even know the man’s name.
They had been riding for 3 days now and Boone was now becoming impatient as he gripped the reins of his horse while their unlucky prisoner was dragged behind him. “Hey Corporal, why don’t we just blow this man’s head off and call it a day huh?”
Corporal Miles however did not find the comment amusing Sherman judged by the tone he used. “We’ve been over this, Lieutenant Harrison tasked us out of every Pickett in the regiment to look after this man and see that his ass finds its way to a prison cell in Fort Worth. I won’t see our time be wasted just because you’re tired”.
Boone then turned his head and looked at a lone white tree some ways away from them. “Just a suggestion I suppose, they wouldn’t do the same for us you know. You’ve seen what they did to Jefferson, didn’t you? Burned the entire town to nothing, you could scarcely even find the corpses of the townsfolk they locked inside of the buildings.. Besides the way this war is going, maybe it’d be a blessing to put a bullet in his skull compared to what they’ll do to him there”.
Corporal Miles then spoke again “just because you don’t listen to orders doesn’t mean I don’t either. Lieutenant Harrison wanted this son of a bitch alive so badly and by God he will see Fort Worth whether I have to drag you along or not”.
This last comment silenced Boone. Who just turned his head and stared at the Nakoda man “Why are you so special anyways? I’ve seen enough mass graves to know your kind ain’t all that special.. The only thing that makes you unremarkable is that damn scar on your ugly face”.
The Prisoner never answered him and within the hour the sun began to sink in the West and they rode into a small town named Battle Creek and dismounted in front of a worn down hotel that was probably built sometime before the railroad came in. Corporal Miles then dismounted and readjusted his hat and his gun belt and nodded to Sherman. “Sherman take the prisoner with me and we’ll go inside and get a room for the night. Boone, you go find someplace to hide the horses.”
However, Boone protested “Why do I always have to do it? I’ve never seen you lift a finger to hitch these damn nags”.
“Shut up”. Was all Corporal Miles said before he drew a pistol while Sherman untied the Prisoner’s binds.
Boone then did as he was told while Sherman walked with Corporal Miles and kept his gun pointed at the prisoner who seemed to offer no form of resistance “I’m getting beyond tired of Boone bitching about everything.. as soon as they took away his stripes he’s just become a shitbag”.
Sherman merely offered a shrug “It’s been a long war. Can anyone say they’re the same person they were 2 years ago?”
Corporal Miles offered no reply as they stepped into the hotel. The main room wasn’t much of a site with a tack piano sitting in the corner of the room and a few Nakoda men sitting at the bar while the bartender and presumably daughter were working. The older man offered half a smile when the pair of troopers walked into his establishment “em.. welcome gentlemen is everything alright?”
The man’s daughter stared at the prisoner with a face of shock and the Nakoda men stared at him as well with mixed thoughts in their heads and Corporal Miles spoke “Ignore him, we’re just passing through on our way to Fort Worth” He said staring at the Nakodamen at the bar “we just need a room for the night for 4”.
The bartender then stepped to the desk while his daughter continued to stare at the prisoner who refused to look at her back. “That will be 2 pounds for a room Sir, 4 for 2 rooms”.
Corporal Miles reached into his satchel and procured a few paper notes and the barman slid a key across the bar and he took in return “is there anything else we can do for you?” He said.
“Yeah”. Corporal Miles responded, “mind sending up a pitcher of water in a minute?”
The man then nodded and Sherman and Miles went upstairs to a very modest hotel room with a creaky-looking bed and a table with a mirror, lantern, and a wooden stool to accompany it and a window displaying a good view of the street. Corporal Miles grabbed the prisoner and handcuffed him to the leg of the bed and locked the door behind them as Sherman looked out into the dusty street to see Boone coming in. After half a minute Boone knocked on the door and Corporal Miles let him in at gunpoint half expecting someone else. “Good one Corporal”. He said walking past him and Miles locked the door behind him.
Boone then sat down on the bed and Miles put his pistol back in his holster. “Now this is how it’s going to work”. He began. “No one is going to ask the prisoner anything. He clearly doesn’t talk so let’s not press him. Everyone here will take shifts watching him tonight, and most importantly no one’s taking off their gun belt is that understood?”
Boone and Sherman both nodded their heads “Good”. Corporal Miles said sitting down in the chair. “With that being said I ordered a pitcher of water to come up here. So no one needs to draw their pistols on the poor girl that comes up here. We already have enough problems as it is and don’t need anyone else losing their shit”.
The trio of soldiers then got comfortable while the prisoner kept staring out the window and began studying his surroundings until Corporal Miles pulled down the curtains. “You can enjoy a good view when you see it through iron bars in Fort Worth asshole”.
The prisoner then said nothing else as he then began staring at Sherman instead which made him feel uncomfortable.
Sherman then sat down and tried to ignore the staring as he struck up a conversation with Boone. “You know I don’t think I’ve ever asked where you’re from”
Boone however returned his question with annoyance “I don’t like small talk Sherman.”
Miles then glanced up from his hands “me and Boone are both from Mayfair”.
Sherman then nodded “oh, my sister in law is actually from there too. She lives in Beaverhead with my brother Arthur”.
Corporal Miles nodded in return. “Your brother must do something fancy for a living to afford to live there”.
Sherman then relaxed a little bit as they talked “yes. He works as a foreman in one of the lumber yards down there. Though he’s considering on taking a higher paying job up in Blackwater on account of that he’s having a kid soon”.
Corporal Miles offered half a smile “how nice”.
The conversation was then cut short by a knock on the door and when Corporal Miles opened the door the bar maid was there with a pitcher of water. “Thank you, can you set it down on the table?”
She then came into the room and did so when she saw the scar on the Prisoner’s face and recognized him immediately “Oh my God. You’re Red Horse aren’t you?”
The prisoner then smiled and Corporal Miles rushed her out of the room. “You’re mistaken this isn’t him you understand me?”
He then closed the door and locked it and Boone asked “what the fuck was that all about?”
“Nothing”. Corporal Miles answered, “she was just confused that’s all”.
However, Boone wouldn’t let it go and turned to the Prisoner. “You’re.. you’re really him aren’t you?”
However Corporal Miles wouldn’t let the prisoner answer “what did I just say? Just drop it, it doesn’t matter who he is damnit”.
Boone however ignored him “That’s why you’re so important.. you’re the Godamn leader of this whole uprising that’s made the last 2 years of my life a living Hell.. you were even behind that massacre at Jackson”.
Corporal Miles then spoke again “what did I just say 2 minutes ago? Shut up Boone”.
Boone then stopped talking but was visibly angry all the same and Sherman spoke again. “Is it true Corporal? Are we really guarding Red Horse himself?”
Corporal Miles then sighed in defeat “yes.. yes it’s really him.”
The trio of men were stunned for a moment and stared at the Prisoner now who still had nothing to say. Sherman then asked again. “I don’t understand, the most important military target in the entire Bushlands is being only escorted by us 3? I thought they’d have more men to help us.”
Corporal Miles nodded. “Lieutenant Harrison had the same idea, but intelligence argued that a larger force would attract more attention and if word got out that Red Horse was being held prisoner every Nakoda bastard in the country would try and free him. So instead Harrison sent us 3 while a much larger column was sent North in a different direction”.
Sherman then nodded “it seems like a good idea. Now we don’t have to worry about any witnesses”.
He then drew his pistol and pointed it at Red Horse while Corporal Miles became enraged. “What the Hell do you think you’re doing?”
Boone however was almost beyond reason “I’m saving us all some time. If this son of a bitch really is Red Horse then he’s just going to be hanged in Fort Worth anyways. Why not just blow his head off and get it over with”.
“Because we have orders to keep him alive”. Corporal Miles said. “When Lieutenant Harrison gave me these stripes he gave them to me with the confidence that I’d see it through. Now put away the gun Boone”. He said as he rested his hand on his holster.
It was at this time that Red Horse finally spoke “if you kill me your lives will be forfeit anyways”.
Boone then asked “what did you say?”
The prisoner then continued. “Didn’t you notice the handful of looks you received walking into the bar room? The Nakodamen at the bar are under my command. That woman was only able to recognize me because I grew up here. Hell this was one of the first places to rebel”.
“You’re full of shit”. Corporal Miles said. “Sherman wipe that grin off his face while I fix the situation downstairs”.
Corporal Miles then left the room and Sherman made his way towards Red Horse but Boone stopped him “wait.. what do you have to say?”
“What I’m saying is once word gets out of who I am those men and half the town downstairs will kill you all. The only chance you have now is to let me go”.
“That’s not going to happen” Boone said. “If we’re not getting out of here, neither are you”.
Sherman however gritted his teeth as he looked past the curtain and saw the barmaid go to the group of Nakoda men across the hotel and she began talking and pointing to the hotel and Sherman immediately shut the curtains when they looked up at him. It was then that Corporal Miles came back into the room and locked the door behind him. “I don’t know where that lady went but we best skip town.”
“It might be too late for that, half of the town wants us dead”. Boone said.
Corporal Miles was preparing to say something else when a thunderous knock came about the door. “We know Red Horse is in there open up!”
Corporal Miles then stepped towards the dresser “fuck”. Was all he could muster. Sherman looked out the window again and saw more townspeople coming outside of their homes and stores towards the hotel.
“There’s no good way this will end Corporal.. we might have to just let him go”.
Corporal Miles however lashed out “shut up, that’s no an option. How many rounds do you boys got?”
Boone shook his head “not enough.. you and me both know we’re going to die either way, we minus well go out on our own terms and deny these sons of bitches what they want”.
Then came more thunderous knocking and yelling from the other side of the door as it became obvious multiple people were now in the crowded hallway of the hotel. “Open up this door! All we want it Red Horse nothing more!” The growing mob shouted.
Sherman began to peel at his fingernails then, a nervous habit he had developed. “Corporal I don’t want to die here, we should just do what they say”.
“Shut up”. Corporal Miles replied “Red Horse isn’t going anywhere.. just give me a moment to think damnit”.
Boone however almost laughed “look where your thinking has led us Corporal.. If I still had them stripes we wouldn’t be here right now”.
Corporal Miles then drew his pistol “I’ve had enough of your shit”.
To Miles’ surprise Boone had drawn his pistol In return “you’re going to really kill me over this son of a bitch?”
Sherman tried to cut in “the fuck are you two doing? This is madness”.
Miles didn’t back down however. “I’m not going to kill you to save Red Horse, I’m going to kill you because it would just make everyone’s lives easier if you were just dead”.
“We’re breaking down the door!” The voice from the hallway said again as the door began to shutter.
Red Horse then turned to Sherman “don’t be stupid. It’s all over now. You’ve tried your best.. if you want to live to see your nephew you’ll put your gun on that table over there ”.
Sherman then breathed a heavy sigh and drew his pistol and then set it on the table and began to wrap his hands around his head. Miles and Boone looked at each other for a moment realizing their anger was pointless and did the same and waited for the inevitable. Red Horse now seemed in control of everything and he grinned as he bested his blue coated enemies once again.
However his grin was wiped away when a crowd of men bursted into the room and ran past the soldiers as they grabbed a frightened Red Horse and began to beat and stab him senseless like a pack of wolves tearing at a stagg. Until they dragged him around the room and another man grabbed the lantern from the side table and smashed it against his face and they saw at last he ceased to live.
The mob then looked at the the soldiers just sitting on the floor and staring at them until their anger went away and was replaced with regret and they ran out of the room leaving the trio of soldiers to stare at Red Horse’s lifeless corpse. They all wanted to say something but the prospect of facing certain death and surviving it made them speechless and they all instead just stood up, grabbed their pistols and went to find their horses while Corporal Miles made up a story in his head on what to tel Lieutenant Harrison.
As they rode away in the darkness Sherman glanced at the withered tree, now with the moon in the sky shining over the fields and thought to himself “what a beautiful country”.
submitted by trimminator to shortstories [link] [comments]
The Bushlands was indeed a beautiful country, but it was one gripped with bloodshed and violence. Just 2 years ago an upstart Nakoda shaman named Red Horse convinced his tribe to rebel against their overlords from the North and after several victories against the bluecoats managed to cause the entire country to run red with the blood of rebellion. However 2 years later his reign of terror was coming to an end and the Nakoda rebels were close at hand to facing defeat. But the Battlefield wouldn’t be a place for Sherman, as he and his friends namely the recently promoted Corporal Miles and the recently demoted Boone had been tasked with escorting a Nakoda prisoner all the way to Fort Worth to stand trial for his crimes. The oddest part was however, they didn’t even know the man’s name.
They had been riding for 3 days now and Boone was now becoming impatient as he gripped the reins of his horse while their unlucky prisoner was dragged behind him. “Hey Corporal, why don’t we just blow this man’s head off and call it a day huh?”
Corporal Miles however did not find the comment amusing Sherman judged by the tone he used. “We’ve been over this, Lieutenant Harrison tasked us out of every Pickett in the regiment to look after this man and see that his ass finds its way to a prison cell in Fort Worth. I won’t see our time be wasted just because you’re tired”.
Boone then turned his head and looked at a lone white tree some ways away from them. “Just a suggestion I suppose, they wouldn’t do the same for us you know. You’ve seen what they did to Jefferson, didn’t you? Burned the entire town to nothing, you could scarcely even find the corpses of the townsfolk they locked inside of the buildings.. Besides the way this war is going, maybe it’d be a blessing to put a bullet in his skull compared to what they’ll do to him there”.
Corporal Miles then spoke again “just because you don’t listen to orders doesn’t mean I don’t either. Lieutenant Harrison wanted this son of a bitch alive so badly and by God he will see Fort Worth whether I have to drag you along or not”.
This last comment silenced Boone. Who just turned his head and stared at the Nakoda man “Why are you so special anyways? I’ve seen enough mass graves to know your kind ain’t all that special.. The only thing that makes you unremarkable is that damn scar on your ugly face”.
The Prisoner never answered him and within the hour the sun began to sink in the West and they rode into a small town named Battle Creek and dismounted in front of a worn down hotel that was probably built sometime before the railroad came in. Corporal Miles then dismounted and readjusted his hat and his gun belt and nodded to Sherman. “Sherman take the prisoner with me and we’ll go inside and get a room for the night. Boone, you go find someplace to hide the horses.”
However, Boone protested “Why do I always have to do it? I’ve never seen you lift a finger to hitch these damn nags”.
“Shut up”. Was all Corporal Miles said before he drew a pistol while Sherman untied the Prisoner’s binds.
Boone then did as he was told while Sherman walked with Corporal Miles and kept his gun pointed at the prisoner who seemed to offer no form of resistance “I’m getting beyond tired of Boone bitching about everything.. as soon as they took away his stripes he’s just become a shitbag”.
Sherman merely offered a shrug “It’s been a long war. Can anyone say they’re the same person they were 2 years ago?”
Corporal Miles offered no reply as they stepped into the hotel. The main room wasn’t much of a site with a tack piano sitting in the corner of the room and a few Nakoda men sitting at the bar while the bartender and presumably daughter were working. The older man offered half a smile when the pair of troopers walked into his establishment “em.. welcome gentlemen is everything alright?”
The man’s daughter stared at the prisoner with a face of shock and the Nakoda men stared at him as well with mixed thoughts in their heads and Corporal Miles spoke “Ignore him, we’re just passing through on our way to Fort Worth” He said staring at the Nakodamen at the bar “we just need a room for the night for 4”.
The bartender then stepped to the desk while his daughter continued to stare at the prisoner who refused to look at her back. “That will be 2 pounds for a room Sir, 4 for 2 rooms”.
Corporal Miles reached into his satchel and procured a few paper notes and the barman slid a key across the bar and he took in return “is there anything else we can do for you?” He said.
“Yeah”. Corporal Miles responded, “mind sending up a pitcher of water in a minute?”
The man then nodded and Sherman and Miles went upstairs to a very modest hotel room with a creaky-looking bed and a table with a mirror, lantern, and a wooden stool to accompany it and a window displaying a good view of the street. Corporal Miles grabbed the prisoner and handcuffed him to the leg of the bed and locked the door behind them as Sherman looked out into the dusty street to see Boone coming in. After half a minute Boone knocked on the door and Corporal Miles let him in at gunpoint half expecting someone else. “Good one Corporal”. He said walking past him and Miles locked the door behind him.
Boone then sat down on the bed and Miles put his pistol back in his holster. “Now this is how it’s going to work”. He began. “No one is going to ask the prisoner anything. He clearly doesn’t talk so let’s not press him. Everyone here will take shifts watching him tonight, and most importantly no one’s taking off their gun belt is that understood?”
Boone and Sherman both nodded their heads “Good”. Corporal Miles said sitting down in the chair. “With that being said I ordered a pitcher of water to come up here. So no one needs to draw their pistols on the poor girl that comes up here. We already have enough problems as it is and don’t need anyone else losing their shit”.
The trio of soldiers then got comfortable while the prisoner kept staring out the window and began studying his surroundings until Corporal Miles pulled down the curtains. “You can enjoy a good view when you see it through iron bars in Fort Worth asshole”.
The prisoner then said nothing else as he then began staring at Sherman instead which made him feel uncomfortable.
Sherman then sat down and tried to ignore the staring as he struck up a conversation with Boone. “You know I don’t think I’ve ever asked where you’re from”
Boone however returned his question with annoyance “I don’t like small talk Sherman.”
Miles then glanced up from his hands “me and Boone are both from Mayfair”.
Sherman then nodded “oh, my sister in law is actually from there too. She lives in Beaverhead with my brother Arthur”.
Corporal Miles nodded in return. “Your brother must do something fancy for a living to afford to live there”.
Sherman then relaxed a little bit as they talked “yes. He works as a foreman in one of the lumber yards down there. Though he’s considering on taking a higher paying job up in Blackwater on account of that he’s having a kid soon”.
Corporal Miles offered half a smile “how nice”.
The conversation was then cut short by a knock on the door and when Corporal Miles opened the door the bar maid was there with a pitcher of water. “Thank you, can you set it down on the table?”
She then came into the room and did so when she saw the scar on the Prisoner’s face and recognized him immediately “Oh my God. You’re Red Horse aren’t you?”
The prisoner then smiled and Corporal Miles rushed her out of the room. “You’re mistaken this isn’t him you understand me?”
He then closed the door and locked it and Boone asked “what the fuck was that all about?”
“Nothing”. Corporal Miles answered, “she was just confused that’s all”.
However, Boone wouldn’t let it go and turned to the Prisoner. “You’re.. you’re really him aren’t you?”
However Corporal Miles wouldn’t let the prisoner answer “what did I just say? Just drop it, it doesn’t matter who he is damnit”.
Boone however ignored him “That’s why you’re so important.. you’re the Godamn leader of this whole uprising that’s made the last 2 years of my life a living Hell.. you were even behind that massacre at Jackson”.
Corporal Miles then spoke again “what did I just say 2 minutes ago? Shut up Boone”.
Boone then stopped talking but was visibly angry all the same and Sherman spoke again. “Is it true Corporal? Are we really guarding Red Horse himself?”
Corporal Miles then sighed in defeat “yes.. yes it’s really him.”
The trio of men were stunned for a moment and stared at the Prisoner now who still had nothing to say. Sherman then asked again. “I don’t understand, the most important military target in the entire Bushlands is being only escorted by us 3? I thought they’d have more men to help us.”
Corporal Miles nodded. “Lieutenant Harrison had the same idea, but intelligence argued that a larger force would attract more attention and if word got out that Red Horse was being held prisoner every Nakoda bastard in the country would try and free him. So instead Harrison sent us 3 while a much larger column was sent North in a different direction”.
Sherman then nodded “it seems like a good idea. Now we don’t have to worry about any witnesses”.
He then drew his pistol and pointed it at Red Horse while Corporal Miles became enraged. “What the Hell do you think you’re doing?”
Boone however was almost beyond reason “I’m saving us all some time. If this son of a bitch really is Red Horse then he’s just going to be hanged in Fort Worth anyways. Why not just blow his head off and get it over with”.
“Because we have orders to keep him alive”. Corporal Miles said. “When Lieutenant Harrison gave me these stripes he gave them to me with the confidence that I’d see it through. Now put away the gun Boone”. He said as he rested his hand on his holster.
It was at this time that Red Horse finally spoke “if you kill me your lives will be forfeit anyways”.
Boone then asked “what did you say?”
The prisoner then continued. “Didn’t you notice the handful of looks you received walking into the bar room? The Nakodamen at the bar are under my command. That woman was only able to recognize me because I grew up here. Hell this was one of the first places to rebel”.
“You’re full of shit”. Corporal Miles said. “Sherman wipe that grin off his face while I fix the situation downstairs”.
Corporal Miles then left the room and Sherman made his way towards Red Horse but Boone stopped him “wait.. what do you have to say?”
“What I’m saying is once word gets out of who I am those men and half the town downstairs will kill you all. The only chance you have now is to let me go”.
“That’s not going to happen” Boone said. “If we’re not getting out of here, neither are you”.
Sherman however gritted his teeth as he looked past the curtain and saw the barmaid go to the group of Nakoda men across the hotel and she began talking and pointing to the hotel and Sherman immediately shut the curtains when they looked up at him. It was then that Corporal Miles came back into the room and locked the door behind him. “I don’t know where that lady went but we best skip town.”
“It might be too late for that, half of the town wants us dead”. Boone said.
Corporal Miles was preparing to say something else when a thunderous knock came about the door. “We know Red Horse is in there open up!”
Corporal Miles then stepped towards the dresser “fuck”. Was all he could muster. Sherman looked out the window again and saw more townspeople coming outside of their homes and stores towards the hotel.
“There’s no good way this will end Corporal.. we might have to just let him go”.
Corporal Miles however lashed out “shut up, that’s no an option. How many rounds do you boys got?”
Boone shook his head “not enough.. you and me both know we’re going to die either way, we minus well go out on our own terms and deny these sons of bitches what they want”.
Then came more thunderous knocking and yelling from the other side of the door as it became obvious multiple people were now in the crowded hallway of the hotel. “Open up this door! All we want it Red Horse nothing more!” The growing mob shouted.
Sherman began to peel at his fingernails then, a nervous habit he had developed. “Corporal I don’t want to die here, we should just do what they say”.
“Shut up”. Corporal Miles replied “Red Horse isn’t going anywhere.. just give me a moment to think damnit”.
Boone however almost laughed “look where your thinking has led us Corporal.. If I still had them stripes we wouldn’t be here right now”.
Corporal Miles then drew his pistol “I’ve had enough of your shit”.
To Miles’ surprise Boone had drawn his pistol In return “you’re going to really kill me over this son of a bitch?”
Sherman tried to cut in “the fuck are you two doing? This is madness”.
Miles didn’t back down however. “I’m not going to kill you to save Red Horse, I’m going to kill you because it would just make everyone’s lives easier if you were just dead”.
“We’re breaking down the door!” The voice from the hallway said again as the door began to shutter.
Red Horse then turned to Sherman “don’t be stupid. It’s all over now. You’ve tried your best.. if you want to live to see your nephew you’ll put your gun on that table over there ”.
Sherman then breathed a heavy sigh and drew his pistol and then set it on the table and began to wrap his hands around his head. Miles and Boone looked at each other for a moment realizing their anger was pointless and did the same and waited for the inevitable. Red Horse now seemed in control of everything and he grinned as he bested his blue coated enemies once again.
However his grin was wiped away when a crowd of men bursted into the room and ran past the soldiers as they grabbed a frightened Red Horse and began to beat and stab him senseless like a pack of wolves tearing at a stagg. Until they dragged him around the room and another man grabbed the lantern from the side table and smashed it against his face and they saw at last he ceased to live.
The mob then looked at the the soldiers just sitting on the floor and staring at them until their anger went away and was replaced with regret and they ran out of the room leaving the trio of soldiers to stare at Red Horse’s lifeless corpse. They all wanted to say something but the prospect of facing certain death and surviving it made them speechless and they all instead just stood up, grabbed their pistols and went to find their horses while Corporal Miles made up a story in his head on what to tel Lieutenant Harrison.
As they rode away in the darkness Sherman glanced at the withered tree, now with the moon in the sky shining over the fields and thought to himself “what a beautiful country”.
2023.04.14 01:15 trimminator [RF] A good price
“What do you think he wants?”
Philip asked his boss..
“I’m not sure”. Haywood responded as he put out his cigarette and stood up from the desk. “But he seems determined to get it”.
Philip had been working at a halfway decent shoe store under Haywood for a few months now and every so often they would see a poorly dressed man come by and stare at a pair of shoes at the windowsill for almost a few minutes, but always refraining from buying them whenever they approached the man. They never knew why but Haywood had seemed to have enough of it when this same man did so again tonight.
Haywood then walked across the hardwood floor of the shoe store and the poorly dressed man spotted him and began sheepishly walking away when Haywood opened the door and addressed him. “It’s not a crime to look at a pair of shoes you know”. The man then stopped and shoved his hands in his pocket and Haywood smiled “Why don’t you come in and see them for yourself?”
The poorly dressed man then nodded “Actually I don’t think I could afford them. I’m afraid I have an awful habit of staring at them every time I come by this place”.
Haywood nodded in return “I know, and every time you don’t buy them. Please come in so I can make you a decent offer at least”.
The poorly dressed man was taken back by this shopkeeper's politeness and went inside with him as Philip continued to stick the shelves but didn’t linger far away not to hear them speak.
The poorly dressed man then walked in a very odd fashion into the store and was greeted by the sight of entire shelves of leather shoes and boots that he gazed at for some time before Haywood coughed after shutting the door behind him with his good hand and spoke.
“I believe the shoes you were looking at are over here Sir”.
The poorly dressed man then turned his head. “What? Oh yes right.” He then walked over to the stand and Haywood took them off the display case at the windowsill and began his pitch.
“Now these here are Brogans. I’m sure you’re quite familiar with them yourself. Made from standard tanned cowhide imported from out west and rubber imported from the colonies. But it was all assembled here in Blackwater.”
Haywood had made similar pitches for many years now and knew when it was working on a customer. But still, the man tried to resist his charms and responded.
“I like your pitch Sir but I’m afraid I can’t get them”.
Haywood only offered a smile. “3 pounds?.. I admit it’s a little modest for a good pair of shoes but I’m willing to take a pound off for you Sir”.
The man, however, refused “no sir it isn’t the price.. it’s just that.. it’s a bit difficult to tell if they’d fit.”
Haywood then nodded. “On account of your leg then?”
The man then turned his head “Yes that’s correct actually”. He responded.
Haywood then sighed “Well why don’t you try them on Sir and see how they fit then?”
The man then took the shoes and took off his left shoe before lifting his pant leg and taking the one from his false leg and as he put them on Haywood made some brief conversation.
“If you don’t mind asking me Sir where did you serve at?”
The man then began to tie the laces as he spoke. “I was in a few places myself. I spent quite some time at the “the Mole hill”.
“I’m sure that was quite a time. I had a few friends serve there myself”. Haywood said in return.
“I must have met them at some point.” The man said before his tone changed. “Before a Ticonderogan shell took my leg I was quite the football player when we were able to take furlough in the rear. I went from being a half-decent middle fielder to a bench warmer in half a second”
Haywood then nodded “I bet you’ve gotten a lot better at Billards and cards then”.
“Of course.” The man said, “We barely did anything else at the hospital, besides bitch about the food”.
The man then finished putting on his shoes and walked awkwardly around the floor as Philips stared from afar. “They feel quite nice,” the man said with a smile.
Haywood then smiled in return. “I’m glad they fit then. Maybe you’d like to walk out of here with them?”
The man then nodded and Haywood packed up the box and paper with it the man took two pounds from his coat and handed it over. “Will that be all Sir?” Haywood then asked the man as he was on his way out.
“Oh no thank you, it’s quite rare getting a pair of shoes that fit well these days, it’s even rarer to find a good deal as well”.
The man then began walking towards the door when he then paused and turned to face Haywood as he stood at the desk. “Though if you don’t mind me asking Sir, how did you know I had a false leg?”
Haywood then offered a nod. “A good shoe salesman can tell what type of shoes a man would want to wear from the sound of his footstep.”
The man was then satisfied with the answer and departed. Haywood then slid the pounds into the register and Philips finally commented. “I thought the shoes at the display case were 4 pounds, Sir?”
“They were,” Haywood said. “But if he men like him lost a leg for me I think it’s only right he should get a good pair of shoes at a cheap price in return”.
submitted by trimminator to shortstories [link] [comments]
Philip asked his boss..
“I’m not sure”. Haywood responded as he put out his cigarette and stood up from the desk. “But he seems determined to get it”.
Philip had been working at a halfway decent shoe store under Haywood for a few months now and every so often they would see a poorly dressed man come by and stare at a pair of shoes at the windowsill for almost a few minutes, but always refraining from buying them whenever they approached the man. They never knew why but Haywood had seemed to have enough of it when this same man did so again tonight.
Haywood then walked across the hardwood floor of the shoe store and the poorly dressed man spotted him and began sheepishly walking away when Haywood opened the door and addressed him. “It’s not a crime to look at a pair of shoes you know”. The man then stopped and shoved his hands in his pocket and Haywood smiled “Why don’t you come in and see them for yourself?”
The poorly dressed man then nodded “Actually I don’t think I could afford them. I’m afraid I have an awful habit of staring at them every time I come by this place”.
Haywood nodded in return “I know, and every time you don’t buy them. Please come in so I can make you a decent offer at least”.
The poorly dressed man was taken back by this shopkeeper's politeness and went inside with him as Philip continued to stick the shelves but didn’t linger far away not to hear them speak.
The poorly dressed man then walked in a very odd fashion into the store and was greeted by the sight of entire shelves of leather shoes and boots that he gazed at for some time before Haywood coughed after shutting the door behind him with his good hand and spoke.
“I believe the shoes you were looking at are over here Sir”.
The poorly dressed man then turned his head. “What? Oh yes right.” He then walked over to the stand and Haywood took them off the display case at the windowsill and began his pitch.
“Now these here are Brogans. I’m sure you’re quite familiar with them yourself. Made from standard tanned cowhide imported from out west and rubber imported from the colonies. But it was all assembled here in Blackwater.”
Haywood had made similar pitches for many years now and knew when it was working on a customer. But still, the man tried to resist his charms and responded.
“I like your pitch Sir but I’m afraid I can’t get them”.
Haywood only offered a smile. “3 pounds?.. I admit it’s a little modest for a good pair of shoes but I’m willing to take a pound off for you Sir”.
The man, however, refused “no sir it isn’t the price.. it’s just that.. it’s a bit difficult to tell if they’d fit.”
Haywood then nodded. “On account of your leg then?”
The man then turned his head “Yes that’s correct actually”. He responded.
Haywood then sighed “Well why don’t you try them on Sir and see how they fit then?”
The man then took the shoes and took off his left shoe before lifting his pant leg and taking the one from his false leg and as he put them on Haywood made some brief conversation.
“If you don’t mind asking me Sir where did you serve at?”
The man then began to tie the laces as he spoke. “I was in a few places myself. I spent quite some time at the “the Mole hill”.
“I’m sure that was quite a time. I had a few friends serve there myself”. Haywood said in return.
“I must have met them at some point.” The man said before his tone changed. “Before a Ticonderogan shell took my leg I was quite the football player when we were able to take furlough in the rear. I went from being a half-decent middle fielder to a bench warmer in half a second”
Haywood then nodded “I bet you’ve gotten a lot better at Billards and cards then”.
“Of course.” The man said, “We barely did anything else at the hospital, besides bitch about the food”.
The man then finished putting on his shoes and walked awkwardly around the floor as Philips stared from afar. “They feel quite nice,” the man said with a smile.
Haywood then smiled in return. “I’m glad they fit then. Maybe you’d like to walk out of here with them?”
The man then nodded and Haywood packed up the box and paper with it the man took two pounds from his coat and handed it over. “Will that be all Sir?” Haywood then asked the man as he was on his way out.
“Oh no thank you, it’s quite rare getting a pair of shoes that fit well these days, it’s even rarer to find a good deal as well”.
The man then began walking towards the door when he then paused and turned to face Haywood as he stood at the desk. “Though if you don’t mind me asking Sir, how did you know I had a false leg?”
Haywood then offered a nod. “A good shoe salesman can tell what type of shoes a man would want to wear from the sound of his footstep.”
The man was then satisfied with the answer and departed. Haywood then slid the pounds into the register and Philips finally commented. “I thought the shoes at the display case were 4 pounds, Sir?”
“They were,” Haywood said. “But if he men like him lost a leg for me I think it’s only right he should get a good pair of shoes at a cheap price in return”.
2023.04.06 01:11 Bluefire781 Davos XI - Hills of King's Landing (Open!)
Early in the 7th Moon of 200 AC, Seagard
The men were equipped, their cargo laid up in the cart provided for them by the grace of the Lady of Seagard. Davos stared out at the convoy he was to escort across the country. A journey back home. A journey away from home. The knight's fingers passed over the stonework of the gatehouse of Seagard. He could not feel its roughness on his skin on account of the gauntlets, but he still coasted his hands nonetheless. A last opportunity to take in everything, commit it all to memory.
He was glad to have stayed. Now he was sad to leave.
"LORD COMMANDER OF THE CROWNSGUARD SER LORD DAVOS DOGGETT, SIR!" He knew that voice, and immediately, Davos sighed as he beamed the biggest smile, and turned to see Eurona Greyjoy, sauntering up with a swagger behind him.
"You know, I'm starting to suspect I won't ever live that one down." Davos boomed back.
"What ever gave ye that idea?" Eury passed by and bumped into him, circling around like a hawk on the hunt. "It would be so easy, ye know. I could give the order, shut this gate behind you. The noble Lord Commander, at my mercy."
"Quite the Price to be paid, I'm sure," Davos chuckled as she approached, now close enough to hold each other in their arms. "Where would you keep such a treasure?"
"I could think of a few places. We Ironborn don't like to give up what's ours." Her cocksure expression melted ever so slightly into a smile, and she grabbed Davos by the shoulders, made him lean down, and planted a kiss on his forehead.
"Keep Pa safe, but keep yerself safe, too, okay?" She looked him dead in the eyes. "I can't have ye missing me wedding because they can't keep their heads on straight."
"Of course," Davos replied, cupping a hand over her cheek. "I'll make sure of it, even if I have to fly Lord Urrax myself to get here. I'm no Valyrian, but I'm sure he'd let me if he knew it was for you."
Eurona scoffed, "I'd love to see that." The two then leaned their heads against each other, taking in that moment of comfort. Amongst the cool of the stone around them. The sound of the sea in the distance. The call of gulls. The rise and fall of each other's breath. To capture the moment like a map in a bottle, to be able to retrace it to find the treasure in this simple moment. And when they spoke again, it was low, an intimate whisper.
"Love you," she said.
"Love you, too," he replied.
A raven cawed behind the two of them, and as they looked up, they beheld Sigfryd Farwynd with Harwyn on his shoulder, a big smile on his face.
“Keep an eye on that one,” Davos said to Eury while looking at Sigfryd with a smirk, “He’s a wily bird, that one. And the raven gets into trouble, too.”
“Ye don’t even know the half of it,” she jabbed Davos with her elbow.
The Farwynd walked up to Davos, face to face. “Is it that time already, my friend? Your absence will surely be felt at our table.”
Davos replied with a laugh, “I’m afraid so, Siggy. And I was just getting used to Harwyn following me everywhere, too.”
The Lord Consort-to-be took Davos in a quick embrace, one the knight happily received. “Calm seas and solid roads, Lord Commander. ‘Till you return to us again.”
“And may you fly with courage, wisdom, and power, Lord Farwynd. I’m glad to know I have true friends here.” The two pulled apart, and Davos looked off to the east and to the open road. A deep breath in. A sigh. It was time.
“See you soon, both of you.” One final hug to Eurona, and a great deep bow to them both, he turned on his heels and made his way to the horse that was prepared for him. And as the Farwynd and his Greyjoy watched him leave, they already heard a song on his lips, resonating in the deep tones of his warm voice.
S'when I's in Harrenhal in one hundred and eighty three
Some old knight in a white cloak come steppin' up to me
Sayin' how'r you young fella', how would you like to go
And to spend another season 'neath them hills of Goldengrove?
Late in the 7th Moon of 200 AC, Outside King’s Landing
Davos rode along the head of the convoy, twenty Ironborn men strong, as they crest the final great hill that took them out of the lands of Hayford. From their vantage point, they could see the Blackwater Bay stretching out to their left, and the mammoth splendor of the Red Keep towering over the sprawling city below. Home at last.
“One last stretch, men!” Davos called. “Then you can all get a nice warm meal and some soft beds under your heads for a change!” The soldiers all called out in celebration, but that was quickly silenced as all heard the loud roars from behind them.
Not just one. There were different pitches. Three, to be precise.
Davos and the Seagard men all looked up as the sky above darkened. Passing over them first was the beautiful Lord himself, the green-yellow dragon Urrax roaring out as he dipped and spun in the air, excited to be home once more. Following him, calm as the eye of a storm, the ground around them sparkled in refracted colors as Lightweaver sailed overhead. Then, if the Queen’s dragon was the eye, what followed was the storm wall. The ground shook and the wind blew past all of them as the great black-and-purple Morning coasted in the sky, far above, but still close enough that the wind bowed to the King’s Drake.
“Seven and the Drowned…,” Davos muttered. The King, Queen, and Lady Velaryon were all home as well. The Prince and Lady Laena, then, were surely not far behind. The Lord Commander braced himself for the battlefield he was about to enter, and with a kick of his heels and a click from his lips, his horse continued on. Down the hill, towards the city of kings, and into a future of anyone’s guess.
(Open to anyone in the King's Landing area! The Lord Commander is back!)
submitted by Bluefire781 to IronThroneRP [link] [comments]
The men were equipped, their cargo laid up in the cart provided for them by the grace of the Lady of Seagard. Davos stared out at the convoy he was to escort across the country. A journey back home. A journey away from home. The knight's fingers passed over the stonework of the gatehouse of Seagard. He could not feel its roughness on his skin on account of the gauntlets, but he still coasted his hands nonetheless. A last opportunity to take in everything, commit it all to memory.
He was glad to have stayed. Now he was sad to leave.
"LORD COMMANDER OF THE CROWNSGUARD SER LORD DAVOS DOGGETT, SIR!" He knew that voice, and immediately, Davos sighed as he beamed the biggest smile, and turned to see Eurona Greyjoy, sauntering up with a swagger behind him.
"You know, I'm starting to suspect I won't ever live that one down." Davos boomed back.
"What ever gave ye that idea?" Eury passed by and bumped into him, circling around like a hawk on the hunt. "It would be so easy, ye know. I could give the order, shut this gate behind you. The noble Lord Commander, at my mercy."
"Quite the Price to be paid, I'm sure," Davos chuckled as she approached, now close enough to hold each other in their arms. "Where would you keep such a treasure?"
"I could think of a few places. We Ironborn don't like to give up what's ours." Her cocksure expression melted ever so slightly into a smile, and she grabbed Davos by the shoulders, made him lean down, and planted a kiss on his forehead.
"Keep Pa safe, but keep yerself safe, too, okay?" She looked him dead in the eyes. "I can't have ye missing me wedding because they can't keep their heads on straight."
"Of course," Davos replied, cupping a hand over her cheek. "I'll make sure of it, even if I have to fly Lord Urrax myself to get here. I'm no Valyrian, but I'm sure he'd let me if he knew it was for you."
Eurona scoffed, "I'd love to see that." The two then leaned their heads against each other, taking in that moment of comfort. Amongst the cool of the stone around them. The sound of the sea in the distance. The call of gulls. The rise and fall of each other's breath. To capture the moment like a map in a bottle, to be able to retrace it to find the treasure in this simple moment. And when they spoke again, it was low, an intimate whisper.
"Love you," she said.
"Love you, too," he replied.
A raven cawed behind the two of them, and as they looked up, they beheld Sigfryd Farwynd with Harwyn on his shoulder, a big smile on his face.
“Keep an eye on that one,” Davos said to Eury while looking at Sigfryd with a smirk, “He’s a wily bird, that one. And the raven gets into trouble, too.”
“Ye don’t even know the half of it,” she jabbed Davos with her elbow.
The Farwynd walked up to Davos, face to face. “Is it that time already, my friend? Your absence will surely be felt at our table.”
Davos replied with a laugh, “I’m afraid so, Siggy. And I was just getting used to Harwyn following me everywhere, too.”
The Lord Consort-to-be took Davos in a quick embrace, one the knight happily received. “Calm seas and solid roads, Lord Commander. ‘Till you return to us again.”
“And may you fly with courage, wisdom, and power, Lord Farwynd. I’m glad to know I have true friends here.” The two pulled apart, and Davos looked off to the east and to the open road. A deep breath in. A sigh. It was time.
“See you soon, both of you.” One final hug to Eurona, and a great deep bow to them both, he turned on his heels and made his way to the horse that was prepared for him. And as the Farwynd and his Greyjoy watched him leave, they already heard a song on his lips, resonating in the deep tones of his warm voice.
S'when I's in Harrenhal in one hundred and eighty three
Some old knight in a white cloak come steppin' up to me
Sayin' how'r you young fella', how would you like to go
And to spend another season 'neath them hills of Goldengrove?
Late in the 7th Moon of 200 AC, Outside King’s Landing
Davos rode along the head of the convoy, twenty Ironborn men strong, as they crest the final great hill that took them out of the lands of Hayford. From their vantage point, they could see the Blackwater Bay stretching out to their left, and the mammoth splendor of the Red Keep towering over the sprawling city below. Home at last.
“One last stretch, men!” Davos called. “Then you can all get a nice warm meal and some soft beds under your heads for a change!” The soldiers all called out in celebration, but that was quickly silenced as all heard the loud roars from behind them.
Not just one. There were different pitches. Three, to be precise.
Davos and the Seagard men all looked up as the sky above darkened. Passing over them first was the beautiful Lord himself, the green-yellow dragon Urrax roaring out as he dipped and spun in the air, excited to be home once more. Following him, calm as the eye of a storm, the ground around them sparkled in refracted colors as Lightweaver sailed overhead. Then, if the Queen’s dragon was the eye, what followed was the storm wall. The ground shook and the wind blew past all of them as the great black-and-purple Morning coasted in the sky, far above, but still close enough that the wind bowed to the King’s Drake.
“Seven and the Drowned…,” Davos muttered. The King, Queen, and Lady Velaryon were all home as well. The Prince and Lady Laena, then, were surely not far behind. The Lord Commander braced himself for the battlefield he was about to enter, and with a kick of his heels and a click from his lips, his horse continued on. Down the hill, towards the city of kings, and into a future of anyone’s guess.
(Open to anyone in the King's Landing area! The Lord Commander is back!)
2023.04.02 02:07 TechTreeTourneyBot Gold Tournament Results: April 1 2023
Rank Wave Player 1 2532 yyyyy 🥇 2 2337 MrSka 🥈 3 2151 Pinksweety 🥉 4 2150 keler22 5 2128 Toka 6 2031 HADES2001 7 2023 aDisgusTing1 7 2023 Camp 9 1993 Perl 10 1946 JIB1418 11 1754 Laura 12 1726 atticus 13 1723 ITACHIxUCHIHA 14 1673 Ozerk 15 1662 Animus 16 1660 Jko 17 1654 Moestuin 18 1650 Jix 19 1646 Musoyama 20 1612 EREMELL 21 1607 DaCrazyBoum 22 1558 m1ke 23 1552 doot 24 1532 Uxana 25 1517 JustARobotMom 26 1511 Deseagle 27 1498 Mr.Barelli 28 1493 Proce 28 1493 Truthannes 30 1485 Blackwater 31 1482 Mieniec 32 1473 SnoopPoop 33 1466 HonKit 34 1453 Randy09 35 1439 Despi 36 1437 mung 37 1426 wizard3103 38 1423 clementan 39 1392 Api 40 1390 Stube 41 1380 Ari 42 1379 Flabbie 43 1378 Christ666 44 1366 Dakiel 45 1359 piccooooooo 46 1349 RoninStyleFu 47 1341 _CR1MINAL_ 48 1340 Doxinus 49 1323 Zeddd 50 1319 GOAT 50 1319 Hirszu 52 1307 Legion9378 53 1298 bawbag 54 1290 SilverDylan 55 1270 SlyFox 55 1270 Devoter 57 1269 Snek 57 1269 HAL9000 59 1253 Donchik 60 1251 Schalawenn27711 61 1241 YUNO 62 1239 Ver 63 1235 Falk3r 64 1229 Ingtar 65 1224 Demothesis 65 1224 Thulcandra 67 1221 PhillyPK 68 1219 Hawk 69 1211 xloth 70 1207 smash72 71 1202 Felrae 72 1200 Sugarskull 72 1200 hoka 74 1197 flagermate 75 1194 AshEstranho 76 1191 uncommon_npc_man 77 1183 meekoH 78 1178 Karmakomando 79 1169 Kemi 80 1150 PlanetBoy 81 1149 feast 81 1149 Roboute 83 1145 XfeldinX 84 1139 Fnz 85 1136 Kark 86 1135 bdd 87 1132 Sen 88 1125 Anemphite 88 1125 SirFrankomac 90 1116 TheNewGuy 91 1104 legionair 92 1103 StrataZ 93 1102 MJ212 93 1102 madmartigan42 95 1098 Rosewood 96 1093 LamefaceMcGee 97 1091 ThadCastle 98 1090 WienerDawgs 99 1085 aki 100 1083 Gab2911
2023.03.29 03:13 Jwest180 Quest Priest Guide, or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Light.
Hey guys. I'm mostly a wild player, hitting top 25 NA with Mecha'thun Warlock a few seasons ago, but I've been playing a ton of standard recently, and Quest Priest is the reason why. I think this deck is super fun both for control and combo players, and I managed to hit legend with a 70% win rate playing this deck. I know all the meta reports are saying it's low tier 3 or high tier 4, but I really think it's better then that so I wanted to make this guide to help players properly utilize this deck's potential. The deck isn't busted by any means, and certainly has some rough matchups, but it's absolutely a strong ladder viable deck if played correctly. And yes, I realize that this guide is gonna be irrelevant in a few weeks, but I wanted to make it anyway. Proof of legend and win rate: https://imgur.com/a/1lbA4YS Deck Code:### Quest
# Class: Priest
# Format: Standard
# Year of the Hydra
#
# 2x (0) Desperate Prayer
# 2x (1) Gift of the Naaru
# 1x (1) Seek Guidance
# 2x (1) Shard of the Naaru
# 1x (1) Sir Finley, Sea Guide
# 2x (1) The Light! It Burns!
# 1x (2) Astalor Bloodsworn
# 2x (2) Sketchy Stranger
# 2x (2) Thrive in the Shadows
# 2x (3) Amulet of Undying
# 2x (3) Cathedral of Atonement
# 1x (3) Prince Renathal
# 2x (4) Cannibalize
# 2x (4) Lightmaw Netherdrake
# 2x (4) Shadow Word: Ruin
# 1x (4) Xyrella
# 2x (5) Clean the Scene
# 2x (5) Spirit Guide
# 1x (6) Lightbomb
# 2x (6) Lightshower Elemental
# 1x (6) Theotar, the Mad Duke
# 1x (7) Blackwater Behemoth
# 1x (7) Mutanus the Devourer
# 2x (8) Whirlpool
# 1x (8) Xyrella, the Devout
#
AAECAZ/HAgrU7QOm7wPd9gPoiwTlsASotgS42QSX7wSGpAXipAUPmesDmusDh/cDjIEErYoE8J8EiKMEiqME1KwEobYE+dsEutwEkt8EhoMF4KQFAAA=
#
# To use this deck, copy it to your clipboard and create a new deck in Hearthstone
Mulligan The mulligan phase is incredibly important for this deck, and also one of the easiest places to misplay. One important thing to remember while playing Quest Priest is unlike past meta quest decks like Open the Waygate or The Caverns Below, the quest is not your only win condition. You're a deck filled with removal and healing that also plays Renethal, so oftentimes, you can just run your opponent out of steam. However, a lot of unexperienced Quest Priest players will mulligan to complete the quest as fast as possible, doing things like tossing away Clean the Scene against aggro or even keeping Prince Renthal so they can complete the 3 cost step. While there are some matchups where completing the quest asap is the correct idea, such as Blood DK, in general the mulligan for this deck is the same as any other control deck. Keep your strong cards, get through the early game, and the quest completions will eventually come. The always keeps for this deck are all of your 2 drops, cannibalize, and lightmaw netherdrake. I will usually keep the 3 drops other than Renethal, and Gift of the Naaru as well. There are some other matchup dependent keeps as well. For instance, Shard of the Naaru is an always keep into undead priest to deal with reborn minions and damage dealing deathrattles. The Light It Burns and/or Shadow Word Ruin is a keep into Miracle Rouge to deal with humongous ghosts in the early game. Theotar is a must keep into mine warlock because stealing phylactery is your only chance of winning (although this one is tough since he's an awful keep into Imp Warlock).
Individual Cards In this section, I'll talk about some of the cards and their role in the deck
Sir Finley, Sea Guide This is one of the most versatile cards in the deck, having tons of function in all phases of the game. There are basically 3 ways you can play this card, and deciding which one of these to use is pretty important. The first is play him early to reroll for quest phase 1 completion. If you're stuck on phase 1 of the quest in a matchup where you'd like to complete it sooner rather than later, you can use Finley to reroll your hand and hopefully land a card that will let you complete the phase. The second is the usual "Oh my hand sucks" play. Pretty simple, if your hand sucks you play him to get a new one. Third is to roll for The Purified Shard after quest completion. On the same turn you play Xyrella the Sanctified, you can play him and hopefully get The Purified Shard in your hand to play the next turn.
Desperate Prayer A seemingly simple card, that actually has some nuanced usage. While obviously you can use it just for the healing, it's important to not use it until you really need to if Xyrella is still in your deck, as this card is by far the best Xyrella activator, especially on turn 4 against aggro if you want to clear the board with Xyrella that turn and don't have the mana to spare to heal any other way. Additionally, this card can be a good thing to have in the end game against decks that might have counterspell or ice traps available, usually Thief Rouges. If you don't have a Desperate Prayer in hand, you have to waste a turn testing for those secrets before playing The Purified Shard.
Amulet of Undying Amulet of Undying is a powerhouse card in this deck, for obvious reasons. A lot of people envision the late game dream of playing this card to rez 2 spirit guides and 2 lightshower elementals, and that can occasionally be the case, but don't be afraid to play a non upgraded version to get a single minion. just one lightshower elemental is worth 14 HP, from the 6 health taunt eating up damage as well as the 8 healing. This can be devastating to aggro decks to have to deal with the original minion and then the rezzed version the very next turn.
Cathedral of Atonment I just wanted to make a quick note on this card, it's ran almost entirely for the card draw and the 3 drop quest completion. Do not worry about getting value out of the minion stats. Honestly, I use the effect on enemy minions more than my own, either to put them in Ruin killing range, I'm gonna kill them anyway and just want the draw, or to get 1 extra HP from cannibalize.
Theotar The most important card in the deck, outside of the quest itself. This card is the only card that makes certain matchups winnable at all. Mainly Quest/Ramp Druid and Mine Warlock, and to a lesser degree Relic DH and Blood DK. The goal with this card against those decks is simple. Snatch their combo card, or lose the game. Or in the case of Blood DK, get rid of their Patchwerk or you're probably losing your quest reward later. Predicting when these decks are gonna go off is important for using Theotar. You want to wait long enough that it's likely they have their important cards in hand, while not waiting so long that they just pop their combo and kill you. I'm gonna shoehorn Mutanus into this section as well and say most of this logic applies to him as well, and you can use him to try to snipe Astalor, Anub'rekhan, or Tamsin to steal a victory in an otherwise unwinnable matchup.
A few common mistakes There's 3 mistakes I see made often with this deck. The first is misuse of 7 drops. The decklist only runs two 7 drops, with no real way to generate any more outside of taking an opponent 7 drop with Theotar, which is extremely unreliable. So the first obvious mistake you can make is playing both your 7 drops before the 3rd step of the quest, and rendering the quest incompletable. However, there are occasions where you need to give up on the quest and play your 7 drops and hope to win through attrition. If you're about to be nuked by a combo deck and Mutanus is your only hope, or you need to play Behemoth to stay alive against an aggro deck, don't be afraid to do so. Winning is still possible without the quest. The 2nd big mistake I see with this deck is overdrawing with Xyrella the Devout. Xyrella the Devout, as an 8 drop, is a common card to complete the quest with. However, she also usually draws 2 or 4 cards due to her triggering Spirit Guide's deathrattle. If these draws cause your hand to be full, your quest reward will be burned. If you're thinking about it it's easy to avoid this mistake, but if you're not thinking or lose track of how many cards she'll draw then it can easily turn a win into a loss. The 3rd mistake I see is people not playing good cards because they're greeding out for quest completion. If it's turn 5 and you're still on phase one of the quest, and you can either play your spirit guide or hero power pass, play the spirit guide. The tempo loss from waiting for phase 2 to play your 5 drop is not even close to worth for the value you're getting.
ETC Before we wrap up, I just wanted to say a few words on ETC in Quest Priest. This is a card that people have struggled to evaluate, and I'm no different. I experimented playing with ETC in the deck, taking out a lightbomb, and I honestly couldn't tell you if it was better or not. It allows you to complete the 4 drop portion of the quest, which can be difficult, and can give you some clutch healing or removal, but removing a strong card to add a 4 mana do nothing as an extremely reactive deck is questionable. I lean on the side of including it though. I use the VS recommendation of Viper, Flash Heal, Condemn as my band.
Wrapping Up So, while this guide won't make you an instant master, I hope it helps some of you learn the deck, because I truly think it's the most fun deck in the game if you play it right and don't mind long games. However, I hope I don't run into any of you on ladder because the ditto is an awful RNG fest. I love alternate win condition decks, and hope Blizzard continues to add cards to Seek Guidance in the future, as it truly makes for a unique Hearthstone Experience. Thanks for reading!
submitted by Jwest180 to CompetitiveHS [link] [comments]
# Class: Priest
# Format: Standard
# Year of the Hydra
#
# 2x (0) Desperate Prayer
# 2x (1) Gift of the Naaru
# 1x (1) Seek Guidance
# 2x (1) Shard of the Naaru
# 1x (1) Sir Finley, Sea Guide
# 2x (1) The Light! It Burns!
# 1x (2) Astalor Bloodsworn
# 2x (2) Sketchy Stranger
# 2x (2) Thrive in the Shadows
# 2x (3) Amulet of Undying
# 2x (3) Cathedral of Atonement
# 1x (3) Prince Renathal
# 2x (4) Cannibalize
# 2x (4) Lightmaw Netherdrake
# 2x (4) Shadow Word: Ruin
# 1x (4) Xyrella
# 2x (5) Clean the Scene
# 2x (5) Spirit Guide
# 1x (6) Lightbomb
# 2x (6) Lightshower Elemental
# 1x (6) Theotar, the Mad Duke
# 1x (7) Blackwater Behemoth
# 1x (7) Mutanus the Devourer
# 2x (8) Whirlpool
# 1x (8) Xyrella, the Devout
#
AAECAZ/HAgrU7QOm7wPd9gPoiwTlsASotgS42QSX7wSGpAXipAUPmesDmusDh/cDjIEErYoE8J8EiKMEiqME1KwEobYE+dsEutwEkt8EhoMF4KQFAAA=
#
# To use this deck, copy it to your clipboard and create a new deck in Hearthstone
Mulligan The mulligan phase is incredibly important for this deck, and also one of the easiest places to misplay. One important thing to remember while playing Quest Priest is unlike past meta quest decks like Open the Waygate or The Caverns Below, the quest is not your only win condition. You're a deck filled with removal and healing that also plays Renethal, so oftentimes, you can just run your opponent out of steam. However, a lot of unexperienced Quest Priest players will mulligan to complete the quest as fast as possible, doing things like tossing away Clean the Scene against aggro or even keeping Prince Renthal so they can complete the 3 cost step. While there are some matchups where completing the quest asap is the correct idea, such as Blood DK, in general the mulligan for this deck is the same as any other control deck. Keep your strong cards, get through the early game, and the quest completions will eventually come. The always keeps for this deck are all of your 2 drops, cannibalize, and lightmaw netherdrake. I will usually keep the 3 drops other than Renethal, and Gift of the Naaru as well. There are some other matchup dependent keeps as well. For instance, Shard of the Naaru is an always keep into undead priest to deal with reborn minions and damage dealing deathrattles. The Light It Burns and/or Shadow Word Ruin is a keep into Miracle Rouge to deal with humongous ghosts in the early game. Theotar is a must keep into mine warlock because stealing phylactery is your only chance of winning (although this one is tough since he's an awful keep into Imp Warlock).
Individual Cards In this section, I'll talk about some of the cards and their role in the deck
Sir Finley, Sea Guide This is one of the most versatile cards in the deck, having tons of function in all phases of the game. There are basically 3 ways you can play this card, and deciding which one of these to use is pretty important. The first is play him early to reroll for quest phase 1 completion. If you're stuck on phase 1 of the quest in a matchup where you'd like to complete it sooner rather than later, you can use Finley to reroll your hand and hopefully land a card that will let you complete the phase. The second is the usual "Oh my hand sucks" play. Pretty simple, if your hand sucks you play him to get a new one. Third is to roll for The Purified Shard after quest completion. On the same turn you play Xyrella the Sanctified, you can play him and hopefully get The Purified Shard in your hand to play the next turn.
Desperate Prayer A seemingly simple card, that actually has some nuanced usage. While obviously you can use it just for the healing, it's important to not use it until you really need to if Xyrella is still in your deck, as this card is by far the best Xyrella activator, especially on turn 4 against aggro if you want to clear the board with Xyrella that turn and don't have the mana to spare to heal any other way. Additionally, this card can be a good thing to have in the end game against decks that might have counterspell or ice traps available, usually Thief Rouges. If you don't have a Desperate Prayer in hand, you have to waste a turn testing for those secrets before playing The Purified Shard.
Amulet of Undying Amulet of Undying is a powerhouse card in this deck, for obvious reasons. A lot of people envision the late game dream of playing this card to rez 2 spirit guides and 2 lightshower elementals, and that can occasionally be the case, but don't be afraid to play a non upgraded version to get a single minion. just one lightshower elemental is worth 14 HP, from the 6 health taunt eating up damage as well as the 8 healing. This can be devastating to aggro decks to have to deal with the original minion and then the rezzed version the very next turn.
Cathedral of Atonment I just wanted to make a quick note on this card, it's ran almost entirely for the card draw and the 3 drop quest completion. Do not worry about getting value out of the minion stats. Honestly, I use the effect on enemy minions more than my own, either to put them in Ruin killing range, I'm gonna kill them anyway and just want the draw, or to get 1 extra HP from cannibalize.
Theotar The most important card in the deck, outside of the quest itself. This card is the only card that makes certain matchups winnable at all. Mainly Quest/Ramp Druid and Mine Warlock, and to a lesser degree Relic DH and Blood DK. The goal with this card against those decks is simple. Snatch their combo card, or lose the game. Or in the case of Blood DK, get rid of their Patchwerk or you're probably losing your quest reward later. Predicting when these decks are gonna go off is important for using Theotar. You want to wait long enough that it's likely they have their important cards in hand, while not waiting so long that they just pop their combo and kill you. I'm gonna shoehorn Mutanus into this section as well and say most of this logic applies to him as well, and you can use him to try to snipe Astalor, Anub'rekhan, or Tamsin to steal a victory in an otherwise unwinnable matchup.
A few common mistakes There's 3 mistakes I see made often with this deck. The first is misuse of 7 drops. The decklist only runs two 7 drops, with no real way to generate any more outside of taking an opponent 7 drop with Theotar, which is extremely unreliable. So the first obvious mistake you can make is playing both your 7 drops before the 3rd step of the quest, and rendering the quest incompletable. However, there are occasions where you need to give up on the quest and play your 7 drops and hope to win through attrition. If you're about to be nuked by a combo deck and Mutanus is your only hope, or you need to play Behemoth to stay alive against an aggro deck, don't be afraid to do so. Winning is still possible without the quest. The 2nd big mistake I see with this deck is overdrawing with Xyrella the Devout. Xyrella the Devout, as an 8 drop, is a common card to complete the quest with. However, she also usually draws 2 or 4 cards due to her triggering Spirit Guide's deathrattle. If these draws cause your hand to be full, your quest reward will be burned. If you're thinking about it it's easy to avoid this mistake, but if you're not thinking or lose track of how many cards she'll draw then it can easily turn a win into a loss. The 3rd mistake I see is people not playing good cards because they're greeding out for quest completion. If it's turn 5 and you're still on phase one of the quest, and you can either play your spirit guide or hero power pass, play the spirit guide. The tempo loss from waiting for phase 2 to play your 5 drop is not even close to worth for the value you're getting.
ETC Before we wrap up, I just wanted to say a few words on ETC in Quest Priest. This is a card that people have struggled to evaluate, and I'm no different. I experimented playing with ETC in the deck, taking out a lightbomb, and I honestly couldn't tell you if it was better or not. It allows you to complete the 4 drop portion of the quest, which can be difficult, and can give you some clutch healing or removal, but removing a strong card to add a 4 mana do nothing as an extremely reactive deck is questionable. I lean on the side of including it though. I use the VS recommendation of Viper, Flash Heal, Condemn as my band.
Wrapping Up So, while this guide won't make you an instant master, I hope it helps some of you learn the deck, because I truly think it's the most fun deck in the game if you play it right and don't mind long games. However, I hope I don't run into any of you on ladder because the ditto is an awful RNG fest. I love alternate win condition decks, and hope Blizzard continues to add cards to Seek Guidance in the future, as it truly makes for a unique Hearthstone Experience. Thanks for reading!
2023.03.29 01:04 wilddeckdb Weekly Wild Content Creator Report (22 Decks with Gameplay) The Wild Deck Database (7806 Decks with Gameplay)
Welcome to the Weekly Wild Content Report!
Please find the full searchable back catalogue (~7800 decks, 13 creators) here!.
The following wild decks were harvested from YouTube over the past 7 days.
Decks by Creator.
Decks by Class.
Most popular cards this week.
Thanks, and please reach out with any feedback and/or feature requests!
submitted by wilddeckdb to wildhearthstone [link] [comments]
Please find the full searchable back catalogue (~7800 decks, 13 creators) here!.
The following wild decks were harvested from YouTube over the past 7 days.
| Creator | Class | Title | Cards | Video | Code |
|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| Roffle | DEATHKNIGHT | Handbuff in Death Knight??? | Playhearthstone | YouTube | AAEBAfHhBAL6DpjUBA6IBeMFuhOW6AOWtwSS5ASU5ASx5gSH9gSX9gSY9gS5/wSZgQWimQUAAA== |
| WhirlXbow | DEATHKNIGHT | Patchwerk is ACTUALLY BROKEN |... | Playhearthstone | YouTube | AAEBAfHhBAr6DuWwBJjUBLjZBInmBJfvBIT2BKiBBeKkBf3EBQ/fxAKWtwTq4wT04wT94wSJ5ASU5ASP7QS88ASH9gSy9wSz9wS2+gSrgAWimQUA |
| Roffle | DEMONHUNTER | Let's Rock 'n' Roll! | Playhearthstone | YouTube | AAEBAdKLBQSN9wOq3QSVkgX9xAUN8skD3dMDwvEDifcDtp8Er94EsN4EquIEheUEhpIFiZIFi5IFkJIFAAED6awC/cQFndgD/cQFnaQF/cQFAAA= |
| MarkMcKz | DEMONHUNTER | The Most BRILLIANT Deck EVER!!... | Playhearthstone | YouTube | AAEBAZWrBAbN9AL21gOHiwSXoASkkgX9xAUMnAKm8AL7zgPd0wOQ5AOJ9wOM9wO2nwShoAS0oASOsAT5vwQAAQOWDf3EBePCAv3EBcrdA/3EBQAA |
| Roffle | DRUID | I Cheated... (in Hearthstone). | Playhearthstone | YouTube | AAEBAaTABAab6ALF/QLWmQOPzgO/4AOJiwQMig6e0gKE5gK/8gKP9gLlugOJ4AOK4APU6AOvgATPrASuwAQAAA== |
| MarkMcKz | DRUID | This is Why Druid NEEDS a NERF... | Playhearthstone | YouTube | AAEBAe2/BAjVE5nTApvoAsX9Ao/OA7bsA8DsA4mLBAvcFY/2Aua6A4rgA6+ABLCABNqfBLClBM+sBK7ABMHfBAAA |
| Roffle | HUNTER | Even Further Beyond! | Playhearthstone | YouTube | AAEBAda+BQjN9AKHsAOP4wPHsgSk7wSwkwXipAX9xAULhxDVE8euAtfrArq2A/u7A/vOA4vVA5DkA8viBPmSBQABA4AH/cQF+g79xAWbhQP9xAUAAA== |
| WhirlXbow | HUNTER | This might be MY FAVORITE HUNT... | Playhearthstone | YouTube | AAEBAR8GnvwCj84D9tYD/fgD25EExaUFDOmrAqSIA+yWA7nQA43kA9vtA6mfBKqfBL+sBJ2wBKeQBZqSBQA= |
| MarkMcKz | HUNTER | Surprise! You LOSE! Epic Death... | Playhearthstone | YouTube | AAEBAZ/DAwi7BYEKkA7WEey7AouKA+XvA9uRBAuAB8cPnM0C080CpIgD6aID/7oDqZ8Ep5AFjZIFqqQFAAA= |
| MarkMcKz | PALADIN | The Hearthstone Devs FINALLY F... | Playhearthstone | YouTube | AAEBAYsWCNYR1ROTpQOVzQOoigSXoATbuQTQvQQLyM4C2f4CxaED8qUDk6gDyqsDzOsD8PYDoaAEktQEmfUEAAA= |
| WhirlXbow | PALADIN | I make SO MANY MISS PLAYS | Dr... | Playhearthstone | YouTube | AAEBAZ8FCoT8AoetA5PQA/reA+CLBISwBOWwBNC9BJfvBK+TBQ/iEZ3sAtn+As+GA8vNA/neA8zrA4v4A5yfBO6fBJLUBIHiBMDiBKeTBZGkBQA= |
| WhirlXbow | PRIEST | I dont think my OPPONENT WAS H... | Playhearthstone | YouTube | AAEBAa0GAvTxA4f3Aw74AuUE0Qq1uwLRwQLLzQPi3gP73wOY6wOtigSEowSKowSktgT10wQA |
| Roffle | PRIEST | Mana for Me but Not for Thee..... | Playhearthstone | YouTube | AAEBAdG+BQAP0cEC8M8CqeICrKUD184D4t4D+98D0/kDrYoEhKMEiqMEorYEpLYEhoMFpJEFAAA= |
| MarkMcKz | PRIEST | This Hearthstone Combo Will BL... | Playhearthstone | YouTube | AAEBAZ/HAgLtFqylAw7lBPoR0cECgvcCl4cD4t4D+98D+OMDrYoEiqMEorYE+dsE6pQF3aQFAAA= |
| MarkMcKz | PRIEST | This Combo Should NOT be POSSI... | Playhearthstone | YouTube | AAEBAZ/HAh4e+rACg7sC2LsC0cEC6NACl4cDoocDgpQD65sD/KMDkbEDyL4DyMAD+OMDmusDu/cDrYoEhaMEqLYEltQEmNQEmtQEuNwE/u4E75EFiKQF4qQFlMQF/cQFAAABA5YN/cQF4soC/cQF3fYD/cQFAAA= |
| WhirlXbow | ROGUE | This deck is SO MUCH FUN | Gar... | Playhearthstone | YouTube | AAEBAaIHAv7uA8ygBQ6qywPHzgPn3QPz3QOo6wOr6wOO9AO9gAT2nwT3nwS3swT13QTBoQWdpAUA |
| Roffle | ROGUE | I Ruined All Their Plans... | Playhearthstone | YouTube | AAEBAcKPBASh9AOY1ATMoAX9xAUNxAH4B9/jAuD6AqrLA+LdA+fdA5LkA72ABPafBPefBPTdBMGhBQABA6DOAv3EBYDTAv3EBfuKBP3EBQAA |
| WhirlXbow | SHAMAN | This deck is SO MUCH FUN | Ove... | Playhearthstone | YouTube | AAEBAaoICovOAoqFA7WYA9u4A6juA8L2A9ySBMSsBOWwBPy0BArWD9IT9vACnv0CnP8CjIUD8NQD+uwDhfoD+Z8EAA== |
| MartianBuu | SHAMAN | Top 100 Reno Galakrond Shaman | Playhearthstone | YouTube | AAEBAaoIHvoO9r0C38QCi84C7/cCy4UDtZgDnJsD/KMDua0D0K8D08ADkuQDqO4Dpu8DhvoD04AEw5EElZIE3JIE/Z8E5bAEx7IE1bIE4LUExc4EmtQE6aMF4qQF/cQFAAA= |
| Roffle | WARLOCK | There's a New GIGACHAD in Hear... | Playhearthstone | YouTube | AAEBAa35AwqCDsIPqKsCws4Cl9MC36kD66wDzpIF36IFwqUFCpDHAufLAqfOAujnAquRA/6VA4P7A8WABOagBNSVBQAA |
| MarkMcKz | WARLOCK | Welcome Ragnaros to the CORE S... | Playhearthstone | YouTube | AAEBAcn1Agb2Av3hAxArCRBK2iBcKlBQznywKdqQOV3gP44wOD+wPFgASxnwTnoAT/2QSy7QSlkgW4uAUAAA== |
| WhirlXbow | WARRIOR | I need to stop BEING SO GREEDY... | Playhearthstone | YouTube | AAEBAQcM6awCvsMCk9ADndgDj+0DvIoE5bAEmNQEuNkEl+8Ev/AE1KEFDqIE+Af/B9/EAo7OAs/nAtmtA47tA/iABPmMBPqMBIigBO/OBMuSBQA= |
| Creator | n |
|---|---|
| MarkMcKz | 7 |
| Roffle | 7 |
| WhirlXbow | 7 |
| MartianBuu | 1 |
| Class | n |
|---|---|
| PRIEST | 4 |
| HUNTER | 3 |
| DEATHKNIGHT | 2 |
| DEMONHUNTER | 2 |
| DRUID | 2 |
| PALADIN | 2 |
| ROGUE | 2 |
| SHAMAN | 2 |
| WARLOCK | 2 |
| WARRIOR | 1 |
| Card | n |
|---|---|
| E.T.C., Band Manager | 7 |
| Brann Bronzebeard | 5 |
| Sir Finley, Sea Guide | 5 |
| Astalor Bloodsworn | 4 |
| Shadow Visions | 4 |
| Thrive in the Shadows | 4 |
| Dirty Rat | 3 |
| Garrison Commander | 3 |
| Gift of the Naaru | 3 |
| Hysteria | 3 |
| Insight | 3 |
| Loatheb | 3 |
| Palm Reading | 3 |
| Prince Renathal | 3 |
| Sphere of Sapience | 3 |
| Aquatic Form | 2 |
| Armor Vendor | 2 |
| Beaststalker Tavish | 2 |
| Biology Project | 2 |
| Blackwater Cutlass | 2 |
2023.03.22 21:50 yeetgod__ Any tips for soloing Sir Blackwater?
I'm trying to solo Darkmoor on my life wizard, and while Howling Cheney was pretty easy, Sir Blackwater is proving to be a much more difficult boss. The fact that he can cast attacks from three different schools is making it especially difficult to last long enough since I can't tailor my defense towards a specific school. I've tried defensive setups and offensive ones (defense has around 70ish universal resist and like 87 resist to storm and offensive setup has like 114 damage with poor resist, both have very high outgoing) but neither have been able to work out.
Any suggestions or advice welcome. I'm largely following the gear setups from Final bastion's graveyard solo run.
submitted by yeetgod__ to Wizard101 [link] [comments]
Any suggestions or advice welcome. I'm largely following the gear setups from Final bastion's graveyard solo run.
2023.02.25 02:23 J_Leigh13 I thought my neighborhood was the perfect place to grow up, until this past June [Part Three]
Part One
Part Two
Before I left for school that morning, I tossed the smelly burnt package into our garbage. I’m not sure why I didn’t do it sooner, but I felt better knowing it was getting picked up with our trash that day. I also resolved to talk to my mom and dad. Even if I sounded crazy, I know they’d help me wade through whatever was happening. I almost threw out Rohan’s business card too, but something stopped me. For now, it stayed folded in my back pocket.
As I biked home after school I felt better than I had in months. I had a plan. My mom and dad were busy, but good people. I’d tell them what happened, and we’d figure this out. My stomach jumped a bit as I turned on to my street and saw Rick Marshall’s SUV in Mr. B’s driveway. The garage door was open and I knew they’d see me as I passed by to my house. I took a deep breath and kept pedaling.
I didn’t get very far. Mr. B practically sprinted down his driveway when he saw me and I stopped reluctantly. One look at his flushed face and the way Mr. Marshall was leaning in the garage told me they’d been drinking.
“Dylan! I’m glad I caught you son” He grabbed my shoulder again, but this time in a kind way.
“Everything OK sir?” I asked, working hard to make myself smaller in his grip.
“I’m sure you’ve heard about Stu by now,” he began, and continued talking excitedly over my nod, “Well, as you’re aware, I am very close with Sheriff Davidson. Now this is all very hush hush son, you hear? He told me that Stu’s death isn’t being treated as an accidental death. No sir, they have these muddy footprints they found leading away from the pool-”
Everything after that faded out. Muddy footprints? I felt goosebumps break out up my arm as I thought about the footprints leading from my room to the top of the staircase in my house.
“Are you listening boy?” cut in Mr. Marshall, who’d staggered down beside Mr. B and I snapped back to attention. Something was off about both of them, and it wasn’t just the beer. Their eyes had this intensity and Mr. Marshall couldn’t seem to sit still. He paced back and forth behind Mr. B.
“Y-yessir, I’m sorry. I just can’t believe someone would hurt Mr. Corbett” I stammered out, letting all the fear I was feeling into my voice.
Mr. B shot Mr. Marshall a look and he backed off. “Now listen son, you’re safe” Mr. B declared, squeezing my shoulder again. “You just need to let me know about anything strange that happens around here. Like that man who came by, he give you anything? Tell you how to get ahold of him?”
“No sir” I lied, thinking about the card in my pocket.
Mr. B stared at me for a moment and said, “Alright son, give me your number, I’ll text you so you have a way to get in touch with me in case anything happens.”
Wanting to get away, I rattled off my number as quickly as I could. Mr. B typed something into his phone and only let me go when we both heard a message ding. He nodded to me and I wheeled my bike back down to the road, careful not to step on his grass.
I checked the message as I walked up my driveway.
Remember son, I’m always next door.
I put my bike away and walked up to the front door. My heart began to pound.
This isn’t real. I told myself. But it was. The package was back, with muddy footprints leading down the front steps away from it.
I kicked the package out of the way and ran inside, locking the door behind me.
I ran into the kitchen calling for my dad, but stopped as I glanced at the calendar. My brain did a million forbidden curses as I remembered mom and dad were both out of town tonight. Even if I called them to come home right now, they were at least an hour and a half away.
My blood froze as a pounding came from the front door. Heart hammering, I slowly walked back down the hallway toward my front door. I jumped as the pounding came again, louder this time. I reached for the door handle and let out a scream as it flew open.
My little sister Emma burst in the front door and shot me a look.
“Why’d you lock the door, weirdo? I was right behind you. Didn’t you hear me call you?” She chided me as she pushed past into the house. My heart was still pounding in my ears as I sank against the wall.
“You scared the shit out of me.” I managed to get out.
“You could have brought in Mom’s package.” she replied and I realized with horror that she held the charred package in her hands. “I wonder what happened to it? It looks like they set it on fire.”
“Super weird, I thought it was a prank or something I guess,” I tried (and failed) to sound normal. “Just leave it in her office so she can find it.”
Emma narrowed her eyes at me, but shrugged and headed down the hallway. I ran upstairs to my room, and looked out my window. I could still see Mr. Marshall’s truck in Mr. B’s driveway. I wondered if they had seen someone deliver the package. Maybe that’s why they were acting so weird.
I sank onto my bed and muffled a sob. I just wanted to hide in my room and be done with all of this. It seemed like every time I tried to avoid trouble, it just seemed to find me. As I thought about my problems my hand slipped into my pocket and I realized I was holding Rohan’s card again like a talisman. An idea took hold and I opened up my phone.
An hour later I was shivering in a nearby park with the package in my backpack. Rohan had agreed to meet me away from my house. It took $20 and a promise of a week’s worth of chores to get Emma to agree to not tell Mom and Dad I went out when I was supposed to be watching her. I made sure she locked up after me and snuck through the backyard to avoid Mr. B and Mr. Marshall out front.
For all my precautions, my gut was still rolling as I saw Rohan pull up in a small sedan. He got out and sat next to me on the bench, remarking on what a beautiful day it was. Not willing to make small talk, I pulled the package out of my backpack and sat it on the bench between us.
I had thought long and hard about what I was going to say. I had it rehearsed, but when the moment came, it all left my head. All I managed to say woodenly was,
“This keeps getting delivered.”
He paused for a moment. We sat silently on the bench for a moment. When I looked up he was looking at me with kind, sad eyes. All he said softly was “Ah.”
“D’you think--” I started. Then paused for a moment, not knowing the right words. Rohan waited patiently.
“Do you think this has something to do with that delivery driver?” I asked timidly, I felt myself fold in when I saw Rohan’s eyes turn penetrating again.
“It would seem odd, considering you knew nothing about Rajat.” He responded mildly. I felt my leg start to bounce up and down, and ground into it with my elbow.
“Right! No, I mean--” I hated how he stayed silent while I stammered on. I was beginning to regret calling him. I felt my face flush as I stared at the blurring ground in front of me. That familiar voice in my head started up again. I’m so pathetic. I just need to go. I can’t help anyway, I’m useless --
A hand touched my shoulder and the voice slipped away. The sob I’d been holding on to burst out of my chest and I lost it for a moment on that bench while he waited.
“Dylan,” he began gently. “I’m not sure what you’re holding on to, however I promise you the only way that you’ll be able to get rid of the feelings that are plaguing you is to talk about it. Tell me what happened. What happened to Rajat?”
I sniffled and nodded, trying to catch my breath. I took a breath and prepared myself to tell him everything, when a ding broke my train of thought.
“One second sir, this might be my sister” I muttered and pulled my phone out.
As I read the message I felt the blood drain from my face.
“Dylan, what’s wrong?” Rohan sounded alarmed as I swayed on the bench.
I showed him my phone.
Say hi to your friend for us son. Tell him you’re both to meet us at Blackwater Pond within the hour. I’d hate to make us wait any longer with this pretty little thing.
Beneath the text was a picture of Emma, trussed up and looking terrified in the back of Mr. B’s truck.
X.
submitted by J_Leigh13 to nosleep [link] [comments]
Part Two
Before I left for school that morning, I tossed the smelly burnt package into our garbage. I’m not sure why I didn’t do it sooner, but I felt better knowing it was getting picked up with our trash that day. I also resolved to talk to my mom and dad. Even if I sounded crazy, I know they’d help me wade through whatever was happening. I almost threw out Rohan’s business card too, but something stopped me. For now, it stayed folded in my back pocket.
As I biked home after school I felt better than I had in months. I had a plan. My mom and dad were busy, but good people. I’d tell them what happened, and we’d figure this out. My stomach jumped a bit as I turned on to my street and saw Rick Marshall’s SUV in Mr. B’s driveway. The garage door was open and I knew they’d see me as I passed by to my house. I took a deep breath and kept pedaling.
I didn’t get very far. Mr. B practically sprinted down his driveway when he saw me and I stopped reluctantly. One look at his flushed face and the way Mr. Marshall was leaning in the garage told me they’d been drinking.
“Dylan! I’m glad I caught you son” He grabbed my shoulder again, but this time in a kind way.
“Everything OK sir?” I asked, working hard to make myself smaller in his grip.
“I’m sure you’ve heard about Stu by now,” he began, and continued talking excitedly over my nod, “Well, as you’re aware, I am very close with Sheriff Davidson. Now this is all very hush hush son, you hear? He told me that Stu’s death isn’t being treated as an accidental death. No sir, they have these muddy footprints they found leading away from the pool-”
Everything after that faded out. Muddy footprints? I felt goosebumps break out up my arm as I thought about the footprints leading from my room to the top of the staircase in my house.
“Are you listening boy?” cut in Mr. Marshall, who’d staggered down beside Mr. B and I snapped back to attention. Something was off about both of them, and it wasn’t just the beer. Their eyes had this intensity and Mr. Marshall couldn’t seem to sit still. He paced back and forth behind Mr. B.
“Y-yessir, I’m sorry. I just can’t believe someone would hurt Mr. Corbett” I stammered out, letting all the fear I was feeling into my voice.
Mr. B shot Mr. Marshall a look and he backed off. “Now listen son, you’re safe” Mr. B declared, squeezing my shoulder again. “You just need to let me know about anything strange that happens around here. Like that man who came by, he give you anything? Tell you how to get ahold of him?”
“No sir” I lied, thinking about the card in my pocket.
Mr. B stared at me for a moment and said, “Alright son, give me your number, I’ll text you so you have a way to get in touch with me in case anything happens.”
Wanting to get away, I rattled off my number as quickly as I could. Mr. B typed something into his phone and only let me go when we both heard a message ding. He nodded to me and I wheeled my bike back down to the road, careful not to step on his grass.
I checked the message as I walked up my driveway.
Remember son, I’m always next door.
I put my bike away and walked up to the front door. My heart began to pound.
This isn’t real. I told myself. But it was. The package was back, with muddy footprints leading down the front steps away from it.
I kicked the package out of the way and ran inside, locking the door behind me.
I ran into the kitchen calling for my dad, but stopped as I glanced at the calendar. My brain did a million forbidden curses as I remembered mom and dad were both out of town tonight. Even if I called them to come home right now, they were at least an hour and a half away.
My blood froze as a pounding came from the front door. Heart hammering, I slowly walked back down the hallway toward my front door. I jumped as the pounding came again, louder this time. I reached for the door handle and let out a scream as it flew open.
My little sister Emma burst in the front door and shot me a look.
“Why’d you lock the door, weirdo? I was right behind you. Didn’t you hear me call you?” She chided me as she pushed past into the house. My heart was still pounding in my ears as I sank against the wall.
“You scared the shit out of me.” I managed to get out.
“You could have brought in Mom’s package.” she replied and I realized with horror that she held the charred package in her hands. “I wonder what happened to it? It looks like they set it on fire.”
“Super weird, I thought it was a prank or something I guess,” I tried (and failed) to sound normal. “Just leave it in her office so she can find it.”
Emma narrowed her eyes at me, but shrugged and headed down the hallway. I ran upstairs to my room, and looked out my window. I could still see Mr. Marshall’s truck in Mr. B’s driveway. I wondered if they had seen someone deliver the package. Maybe that’s why they were acting so weird.
I sank onto my bed and muffled a sob. I just wanted to hide in my room and be done with all of this. It seemed like every time I tried to avoid trouble, it just seemed to find me. As I thought about my problems my hand slipped into my pocket and I realized I was holding Rohan’s card again like a talisman. An idea took hold and I opened up my phone.
An hour later I was shivering in a nearby park with the package in my backpack. Rohan had agreed to meet me away from my house. It took $20 and a promise of a week’s worth of chores to get Emma to agree to not tell Mom and Dad I went out when I was supposed to be watching her. I made sure she locked up after me and snuck through the backyard to avoid Mr. B and Mr. Marshall out front.
For all my precautions, my gut was still rolling as I saw Rohan pull up in a small sedan. He got out and sat next to me on the bench, remarking on what a beautiful day it was. Not willing to make small talk, I pulled the package out of my backpack and sat it on the bench between us.
I had thought long and hard about what I was going to say. I had it rehearsed, but when the moment came, it all left my head. All I managed to say woodenly was,
“This keeps getting delivered.”
He paused for a moment. We sat silently on the bench for a moment. When I looked up he was looking at me with kind, sad eyes. All he said softly was “Ah.”
“D’you think--” I started. Then paused for a moment, not knowing the right words. Rohan waited patiently.
“Do you think this has something to do with that delivery driver?” I asked timidly, I felt myself fold in when I saw Rohan’s eyes turn penetrating again.
“It would seem odd, considering you knew nothing about Rajat.” He responded mildly. I felt my leg start to bounce up and down, and ground into it with my elbow.
“Right! No, I mean--” I hated how he stayed silent while I stammered on. I was beginning to regret calling him. I felt my face flush as I stared at the blurring ground in front of me. That familiar voice in my head started up again. I’m so pathetic. I just need to go. I can’t help anyway, I’m useless --
A hand touched my shoulder and the voice slipped away. The sob I’d been holding on to burst out of my chest and I lost it for a moment on that bench while he waited.
“Dylan,” he began gently. “I’m not sure what you’re holding on to, however I promise you the only way that you’ll be able to get rid of the feelings that are plaguing you is to talk about it. Tell me what happened. What happened to Rajat?”
I sniffled and nodded, trying to catch my breath. I took a breath and prepared myself to tell him everything, when a ding broke my train of thought.
“One second sir, this might be my sister” I muttered and pulled my phone out.
As I read the message I felt the blood drain from my face.
“Dylan, what’s wrong?” Rohan sounded alarmed as I swayed on the bench.
I showed him my phone.
Say hi to your friend for us son. Tell him you’re both to meet us at Blackwater Pond within the hour. I’d hate to make us wait any longer with this pretty little thing.
Beneath the text was a picture of Emma, trussed up and looking terrified in the back of Mr. B’s truck.
X.
2023.02.16 06:40 Jawsome_Kid89 Grand Tourney Gauntlet tier farming
 | Ok so I’ve been doing the house tours glitch to get access to this gauntlet and I’ve been farming this on and on for the mandolin of evermore (in pic) and I haven’t gotten a single gear drop on my max wizard farming it (did about 15+ runs so far) I’m a max farming the tier 2 version of it because it only drops the mandolin of evermore as the wand drops, compared to the other tiers that drop another version/look of these wands. I’m wondering are the drops higher if I do the tier 5 version (lvl 90+version) or are the gear drop rates just that horrible/not dropping anymore and switching tiers won’t matter? :/ I just want someone to confirm to me that the drops are still possible because either I’m just very unlucky or they completely removed gear drops from here… submitted by Jawsome_Kid89 to Wizard101 [link] [comments] |
2023.02.07 19:14 SorryICantLie lol
### lol
# Class: Rogue
# Format: Wild
#
# 2x (0) Counterfeit Coin
# 2x (0) Preparation
# 1x (0) Shadow of Demise
# 2x (1) Blackwater Cutlass
# 2x (1) Door of Shadows
# 2x (1) Gone Fishin'
# 2x (1) Secret Passage
# 1x (1) Sir Finley, Sea Guide
# 1x (1) Sphere of Sapience
# 2x (2) Evasion
# 2x (2) Rotten Rodent
# 2x (3) Necrium Blade
# 2x (3) Shroud of Concealment
# 2x (3) Snowfall Graveyard
# 2x (4) Cloak of Shadows
# 2x (4) Scourge Illusionist
# 1x (4) Selfish Shellfish
#
AAEBAd75AwSPzgPlsAS4tgTMoAUN9bsC3+MC3voCqssD4t0D/u4DvYAE958E/KUEt7ME9N0En5MFoZMFAA==
#
# To use this deck, copy it to your clipboard and create a new deck in Hearthstone
lol
submitted by SorryICantLie to wildhearthstone [link] [comments]
# Class: Rogue
# Format: Wild
#
# 2x (0) Counterfeit Coin
# 2x (0) Preparation
# 1x (0) Shadow of Demise
# 2x (1) Blackwater Cutlass
# 2x (1) Door of Shadows
# 2x (1) Gone Fishin'
# 2x (1) Secret Passage
# 1x (1) Sir Finley, Sea Guide
# 1x (1) Sphere of Sapience
# 2x (2) Evasion
# 2x (2) Rotten Rodent
# 2x (3) Necrium Blade
# 2x (3) Shroud of Concealment
# 2x (3) Snowfall Graveyard
# 2x (4) Cloak of Shadows
# 2x (4) Scourge Illusionist
# 1x (4) Selfish Shellfish
#
AAEBAd75AwSPzgPlsAS4tgTMoAUN9bsC3+MC3voCqssD4t0D/u4DvYAE958E/KUEt7ME9N0En5MFoZMFAA==
#
# To use this deck, copy it to your clipboard and create a new deck in Hearthstone
lol
2023.01.31 17:01 iamthegrick106 Renothal Mania Baby!
Hello my beautiful whales, I've decided to do a bit of an interesting challenge over the next little while. I've constructed 10 Renothal decks for all the classes except for warrior (deck codes will be below) I'm going to play all of them for 10 games, make a re-evaluation pit stop, change any cards I feel and then play them for 10 more. Then, at the end, based on feel, winrate, and powerlevel i'm going to rank them.
The best part: I invite all of you to participate! Take the deck codes posted below and do the same thing I'm doing, and then dm me your records and impressions with any number of the decks as well as any changes you decided to make and how it changed the deck. All of the decks have been performing reasonably well so far so I have confidence that renothal isn't as dead as it has been made out to be by many people. Happy aggro farming!
### Renothal Mania #1 (DK)
# Class: Death Knight
# Format: Wild
#
# 1x (1) Armor Vendor
# 1x (1) Body Bagger
# 1x (1) Heart Strike
# 1x (1) Icy Touch
# 1x (1) Mistress of Mixtures
# 1x (1) Noxious Cadaver
# 1x (1) Sir Finley, Sea Guide
# 1x (2) Astalor Bloodsworn
# 1x (2) Cult Neophyte
# 1x (2) Dirty Rat
# 1x (2) Hematurge
# 1x (2) Obliterate
# 1x (2) Vampiric Blood
# 1x (2) Wandmaker
# 1x (2) Zephrys the Great
# 1x (3) Asphyxiate
# 1x (3) Brann Bronzebeard
# 1x (3) Chillfallen Baron
# 1x (3) Nerubian Vizier
# 1x (3) Pandaren Importer
# 1x (3) Prince Renathal
# 1x (3) Soulbreaker
# 1x (3) Venomous Scorpid
# 1x (3) Vulpera Scoundrel
# 1x (3) Zola the Gorgon
# 1x (4) Blademaster Okani
# 1x (4) Death Strike
# 1x (4) School Teacher
# 1x (4) Street Sweeper
# 1x (5) Blood Boil
# 1x (5) Corpse Explosion
# 1x (5) Deathbringer Saurfang
# 1x (5) Loatheb
# 1x (5) Queen Azshara
# 1x (6) Gnome Muncher
# 1x (6) Reno Jackson
# 1x (7) Alexandros Mograine
# 1x (7) Mutanus the Devourer
# 1x (7) Patchwerk
# 1x (8) Soulstealer
#
AAEBAfHhBCj6Dt/EAvyjA/7RA4vVA5LkA5boA6bvA8n5A+WwBMeyBJa3BNu5BJbUBJjUBJrUBJvUBOrjBPTjBPzjBP3jBP7jBInkBJTkBInmBLHmBLTmBI/tBJfvBK7vBIT2BIf2BLL3BLP3BLb6BKuABaiBBaKZBZekBeKkBQAA
#
# To use this deck, copy it to your clipboard and create a new deck in Hearthstone
### Renothal Mania #2 (DH)
# Class: Demon Hunter
# Format: Wild
#
# 1x (1) Consume Magic
# 1x (1) Double Jump
# 1x (1) Felscream Blast
# 1x (1) Illidari Studies
# 1x (1) Mana Burn
# 1x (1) Sigil of Alacrity
# 1x (1) Sir Finley, Sea Guide
# 1x (1) Unleash Fel
# 1x (2) Astalor Bloodsworn
# 1x (2) Bloodmage Thalnos
# 1x (2) Chaos Strike
# 1x (2) Dirty Rat
# 1x (2) Fel Barrage
# 1x (2) Felfire Deadeye
# 1x (2) Fossil Fanatic
# 1x (2) Immolation Aura
# 1x (2) Spectral Sight
# 1x (2) Talented Arcanist
# 1x (2) Zephrys the Great
# 1x (3) Brann Bronzebeard
# 1x (3) Herald of Chaos
# 1x (3) Prince Renathal
# 1x (3) Rustrot Viper
# 1x (3) Silvermoon Arcanist
# 1x (3) Soul Cleave
# 1x (4) Blademaster Okani
# 1x (4) Felerin, the Forgotten
# 1x (4) Guild Trader
# 1x (4) Prosecutor Mel'tranix
# 1x (4) School Teacher
# 1x (5) Loatheb
# 1x (5) Need for Greed
# 1x (5) Zai, the Incredible
# 1x (6) Kurtrus, Demon-Render
# 1x (6) Reno Jackson
# 1x (6) Theotar, the Mad Duke
# 1x (7) Expendable Performers
# 1x (7) Mutanus the Devourer
# 1x (7) Xhilag of the Abyss
# 1x (9) Dragonqueen Alexstrasza
#
AAEBAea5Ayj6Dt/EAvyjA5GxA4TDA9TIA/LJA9bRA93TA8fdA8rdA9HdA/PjA5DkA5XoA6bvA4n3A4r3A8X5A9D5A8iABIeLBLafBJegBLSgBOWwBMeyBJa3BP6/BMDKBKDOBJjUBJrUBLjZBO7tBJfvBIuSBaSSBZ2kBeKkBQAA
#
# To use this deck, copy it to your clipboard and create a new deck in Hearthstone
### Renothal Mania #3 (DRU)
# Class: Druid
# Format: Wild
#
# 1x (0) Aquatic Form
# 1x (1) Floop's Glorious Gloop
# 1x (1) Jade Idol
# 1x (1) Lesser Jasper Spellstone
# 1x (1) Nature Studies
# 1x (1) Sphere of Sapience
# 1x (2) Astalor Bloodsworn
# 1x (2) Dew Process
# 1x (2) Dirty Rat
# 1x (2) Lunar Eclipse
# 1x (2) Moonlit Guidance
# 1x (2) Solar Eclipse
# 1x (2) Wrath
# 1x (2) Zephrys the Great
# 1x (3) Brann Bronzebeard
# 1x (3) Ferocious Howl
# 1x (3) Jade Blossom
# 1x (3) Prince Renathal
# 1x (3) Rustrot Viper
# 1x (3) Wild Growth
# 1x (3) Zola the Gorgon
# 1x (4) Blademaster Okani
# 1x (4) Branching Paths
# 1x (4) Flobbidinous Floop
# 1x (4) Poison Seeds
# 1x (4) Twig of the World Tree
# 1x (4) Widowbloom Seedsman
# 1x (5) Flipper Friends
# 1x (5) Loatheb
# 1x (5) Spammy Arcanist
# 1x (5) Wildheart Guff
# 1x (6) Reno Jackson
# 1x (6) Spreading Plague
# 1x (6) Theotar, the Mad Duke
# 1x (7) Mutanus the Devourer
# 1x (7) Scale of Onyxia
# 1x (7) Topior the Shrubbagazzor
# 1x (8) Kazakusan
# 1x (8) Miracle Growth
# 1x (9) Dragonqueen Alexstrasza
#
AAEBAbr5AyiKDvoOtLsCy7wC38QCoM0CmNICntICm+gCv/IC9fwCxf0C/KMDkbEDj84Dm84DieADiuADpu8D0PkDr4AEiYsEpY0EiZ8Ez6wEhLAEx7IE9r0E/70ErsAEgNQEltQEmNQEmtQEuNkE794Ewd8EhO8El+8E4qQFAAA=
#
# To use this deck, copy it to your clipboard and create a new deck in Hearthstone
### Renothal Mania #4 (HUN)
# Class: Hunter
# Format: Wild
#
# 1x (0) Devouring Swarm
# 1x (1) Adorable Infestation
# 1x (1) Dwarven Sharpshooter
# 1x (1) Flare
# 1x (1) Peasant
# 1x (1) Springpaw
# 1x (1) Tracking
# 1x (1) Trueaim Crescent
# 1x (1) Vicious Slitherspear
# 1x (1) Wolpertinger
# 1x (2) Astalor Bloodsworn
# 1x (2) Conjured Arrow
# 1x (2) Cult Neophyte
# 1x (2) Doggie Biscuit
# 1x (2) Explosive Trap
# 1x (2) K9-0tron
# 1x (2) Quick Shot
# 1x (2) Selective Breeder
# 1x (2) Vrykul Necrolyte
# 1x (2) Zephrys the Great
# 1x (3) Brann Bronzebeard
# 1x (3) Dreadscale
# 1x (3) Forensic Duster
# 1x (3) Hawkstrider Rancher
# 1x (3) Prince Renathal
# 1x (3) Ramming Mount
# 1x (3) Stitched Tracker
# 1x (3) Unleash the Hounds
# 1x (3) Zola the Gorgon
# 1x (4) Blademaster Okani
# 1x (4) Lorekeeper Polkelt
# 1x (4) Rinling's Rifle
# 1x (4) Stonebound Gargon
# 1x (5) Ara'lon
# 1x (5) Barak Kodobane
# 1x (5) Loatheb
# 1x (6) Beaststalker Tavish
# 1x (6) Hope of Quel'Thalas
# 1x (6) Reno Jackson
# 1x (7) Dinotamer Brann
#
AAEBAbv5AyiAB9sJ+g7KFNPNAvyjA6alA/yvA6LOA+HOA7nSA4vVA/bWA4/jA+rpA+XvA/T2A8X7A5T8A8OABNuRBKmfBOOfBLugBIiyBMeyBL/TBJbUBJjUBJrUBLzjBNPkBJfvBKjvBKeQBbCTBY6kBeKkBYWqBeLFBQAA
#
# To use this deck, copy it to your clipboard and create a new deck in Hearthstone
### Renothal Mania #5 (MAG)
# Class: Mage
# Format: Wild
#
# 1x (1) Arcane Breath
# 1x (1) Arcane Wyrm
# 1x (1) First Flame
# 1x (1) Sir Finley, Sea Guide
# 1x (2) Astalor Bloodsworn
# 1x (2) Book of Specters
# 1x (2) Dirty Rat
# 1x (2) Mad Scientist
# 1x (2) Starscryer
# 1x (2) Zephrys the Great
# 1x (3) Amber Whelp
# 1x (3) Arcsplitter
# 1x (3) Brann Bronzebeard
# 1x (3) Coldlight Oracle
# 1x (3) Flame Ward
# 1x (3) Frostweave Dungeoneer
# 1x (3) Ice Block
# 1x (3) Prince Renathal
# 1x (3) Stargazer Luna
# 1x (3) Zola the Gorgon
# 1x (4) Blademaster Okani
# 1x (4) Deepwater Evoker
# 1x (4) Fire Sale
# 1x (4) Kazakus
# 1x (4) Potion of Illusion
# 1x (4) Varden Dawngrasp
# 1x (5) Barista Lynchen
# 1x (5) Loatheb
# 1x (5) Malygos, Aspect of Magic
# 1x (5) Spammy Arcanist
# 1x (6) Dragoncaster
# 1x (6) Reno Jackson
# 1x (6) Reno the Relicologist
# 1x (6) Theotar, the Mad Duke
# 1x (7) Luna's Pocket Galaxy
# 1x (7) Mutanus the Devourer
# 1x (9) Alexstrasza
# 1x (9) Alexstrasza the Life-Binder
# 1x (9) Dragonqueen Alexstrasza
# 1x (10) Raid Boss Onyxia
#
AAEBAcz6AyjAAcUE+Af3DfoO2LsC38QCzu8C7vYCxvgCvZkD/KMDkqQDv6QD+qwD8K8DkbED4bYD97gD5dED0uwDne4Dpu8Dp/cDrvcDk4EEsIoEpY0Epa0E5bAEx7IEltQEmNQEmtQEuNkEl+8Eo5MFxZMFq5gF4qQFAAA=
#
# To use this deck, copy it to your clipboard and create a new deck in Hearthstone
### Renothal Mania #6 (PAL)
# Class: Paladin
# Format: Wild
#
# 1x (1) Crystology
# 1x (1) Flight of the Bronze
# 1x (1) Knight of Anointment
# 1x (1) Righteous Protector
# 1x (1) Sir Finley, Sea Guide
# 1x (2) Astalor Bloodsworn
# 1x (2) City Tax
# 1x (2) Conviction (Rank 1)
# 1x (2) Dirty Rat
# 1x (2) Hand of A'dal
# 1x (2) Order in the Court
# 1x (2) Redscale Dragontamer
# 1x (2) Sir Finley of the Sands
# 1x (2) Zephrys the Great
# 1x (3) Alliance Bannerman
# 1x (3) Amber Whelp
# 1x (3) Brann Bronzebeard
# 1x (3) Bronze Explorer
# 1x (3) High Priest Thekal
# 1x (3) Lord Barov
# 1x (3) Prince Renathal
# 1x (3) Stonehearth Vindicator
# 1x (4) Cariel Roame
# 1x (4) Daring Drake
# 1x (4) Nozdormu the Timeless
# 1x (5) Loatheb
# 1x (5) Spammy Arcanist
# 1x (5) Taelan Fordring
# 1x (6) Reno Jackson
# 1x (6) Theotar, the Mad Duke
# 1x (7) Anachronos
# 1x (7) Mutanus the Devourer
# 1x (7) The Leviathan
# 1x (8) Kazakusan
# 1x (8) Lightforged Cariel
# 1x (9) Alexstrasza
# 1x (9) Alexstrasza the Life-Binder
# 1x (9) Dragonqueen Alexstrasza
# 1x (10) Raid Boss Onyxia
# 1x (20) Molten Giant
#
AAEBAZmrBCjFBNwK+g7fxALZ/gLOhwODoQP8owOHrQORsQPKwQOT0AP53gPM6wPj6wOR7AOm7wPw9gOL+AOoigSwigTgiwSljQTJoAT5pASlrQSEsATlsASwsgSY1ASa1AS42QTA4gSX7wSjkwWkkwWnkwWvkwWRpAXipAUAAA==
#
# To use this deck, copy it to your clipboard and create a new deck in Hearthstone
### Renothal Mania #7 (PRI)
# Class: Priest
# Format: Wild
#
# 1x (0) Raise Dead
# 1x (1) Crystalsmith Cultist
# 1x (1) Mistress of Mixtures
# 1x (1) Shadowcloth Needle
# 1x (1) Sir Finley, Sea Guide
# 1x (2) Astalor Bloodsworn
# 1x (2) Cult Neophyte
# 1x (2) Defias Leper
# 1x (2) Dirty Rat
# 1x (2) Seance
# 1x (2) Shadow Visions
# 1x (2) Shadow Word: Death
# 1x (2) Thoughtsteal
# 1x (2) Thrive in the Shadows
# 1x (2) Zephrys the Great
# 1x (3) Brann Bronzebeard
# 1x (3) Cathedral of Atonement
# 1x (3) Devouring Plague
# 1x (3) Handmaiden
# 1x (3) Identity Theft
# 1x (3) Madame Lazul
# 1x (3) Palm Reading
# 1x (3) Prince Renathal
# 1x (4) Blademaster Okani
# 1x (4) Hysteria
# 1x (4) Kazakus
# 1x (5) Darkbishop Benedictus
# 1x (5) Excavated Evil
# 1x (5) Loatheb
# 1x (5) Queen Azshara
# 1x (5) Raza the Chained
# 1x (5) Spammy Arcanist
# 1x (6) Reno Jackson
# 1x (6) Sister Svalna
# 1x (6) Theotar, the Mad Duke
# 1x (7) Blackwater Behemoth
# 1x (7) Mutanus the Devourer
# 1x (7) Psychic Scream
# 1x (7) Soul Mirror
# 1x (8) Shadowreaper Anduin
#
AAEBAZ/HAige+g63F4O7Ati7AtHBAt/EAujQApDTAuaIA+ubA/yjA8i+A9fOA4vVA+LeA/jjA5vrA6bvA/TxA7v3A42BBK2KBKWNBMGfBOWwBMeyBKS2BKi2BNu5BJjUBJrUBJvUBLjZBLjcBJfvBIaDBeyRBe+RBeKkBQAA
#
# To use this deck, copy it to your clipboard and create a new deck in Hearthstone
### Renothal Mania #8 (ROG)
# Class: Rogue
# Format: Wild
#
# 1x (0) Shadow of Demise
# 1x (0) Shadowstep
# 1x (1) Armor Vendor
# 1x (1) Blackwater Cutlass
# 1x (1) Brain Freeze
# 1x (1) Concoctor
# 1x (1) Door of Shadows
# 1x (1) Gone Fishin'
# 1x (1) Prize Plunderer
# 1x (1) SI:7 Extortion
# 1x (1) Sir Finley, Sea Guide
# 1x (2) Astalor Bloodsworn
# 1x (2) Cult Neophyte
# 1x (2) Dirty Rat
# 1x (2) Potion Belt
# 1x (2) Potionmaster Putricide
# 1x (2) Sap
# 1x (2) Serrated Bone Spike
# 1x (2) Swindle
# 1x (2) Tenwu of the Red Smoke
# 1x (2) Tooth of Nefarian
# 1x (2) Zephrys the Great
# 1x (3) Brann Bronzebeard
# 1x (3) Bunker Sergeant
# 1x (3) Fan of Knives
# 1x (3) Prince Renathal
# 1x (4) Blademaster Okani
# 1x (4) Potion of Illusion
# 1x (4) Scabbs Cutterbutter
# 1x (4) Spirit of the Shark
# 1x (4) Street Sweeper
# 1x (5) Loatheb
# 1x (5) Queen Azshara
# 1x (5) Spammy Arcanist
# 1x (6) Flik Skyshiv
# 1x (6) Reno Jackson
# 1x (6) Vanish
# 1x (7) Mutanus the Devourer
# 1x (8) Shadowcrafter Scabbs
# 1x (9) Dragonqueen Alexstrasza
#
AAEBAZurBCjEAc0DmwX6Dt/EArSGA/yjA8GuA5GxA8fOA+XRA4vVA+fdA/PdA8PhA5LkA6bvA53wA6H0A72ABPuKBKWNBPafBNKkBPmsBOWwBMeyBLezBNu5BJjUBJrUBPTdBPXdBJfvBK7vBMygBd+gBeCgBeigBeKkBQAA
#
# To use this deck, copy it to your clipboard and create a new deck in Hearthstone
### Renothal Mania #9 (SHA)
# Class: Shaman
# Format: Wild
#
# 1x (1) Armor Vendor
# 1x (1) Devolving Missiles
# 1x (1) Scalding Geyser
# 1x (1) Schooling
# 1x (1) Sir Finley, Sea Guide
# 1x (1) Sphere of Sapience
# 1x (1) Toxfin
# 1x (2) Astalor Bloodsworn
# 1x (2) Bolner Hammerbeak
# 1x (2) Dirty Rat
# 1x (2) Firemancer Flurgl
# 1x (2) Frostbite
# 1x (2) Ice Fishing
# 1x (2) Maelstrom Portal
# 1x (2) Sleetbreaker
# 1x (2) Zephrys the Great
# 1x (3) Brann Bronzebeard
# 1x (3) Brilliant Macaw
# 1x (3) Bunker Sergeant
# 1x (3) Clownfish
# 1x (3) Healing Rain
# 1x (3) Lightning Storm
# 1x (3) Prince Renathal
# 1x (3) Tidal Surge
# 1x (3) Twin-fin Fin Twin
# 1x (3) Zola the Gorgon
# 1x (4) Blademaster Okani
# 1x (4) Lorekeeper Polkelt
# 1x (4) Scargil
# 1x (5) Boompistol Bully
# 1x (5) Loatheb
# 1x (5) Rotgill
# 1x (6) Grumble, Worldshaker
# 1x (6) Reno Jackson
# 1x (6) Snowfall Guardian
# 1x (6) Sylvanas, the Accused
# 1x (7) Mutanus the Devourer
# 1x (8) Bru'kan of the Elements
# 1x (9) Dragonqueen Alexstrasza
# 1x (9) Shudderwock
#
AAEBAZyrBCj6Dt/EAovOAqvnAvPnAu/3ArWYA5ybA/yjA5GxA8O2A+DMA4/OA/bWA5LkA6juA6bvA4b6A9OABLmRBMORBPmRBJWSBP2fBPCgBNKkBOWwBMeyBOC1BLy2BJzHBMXOBIfUBJbUBJjUBJrUBJfvBKTvBPSgBeKkBQAA
#
# To use this deck, copy it to your clipboard and create a new deck in Hearthstone
### Renothal Mania #10 (WAR)
# Class: Warlock
# Format: Wild
#
# 1x (0) Raise Dead
# 1x (1) Armor Vendor
# 1x (1) Kobold Librarian
# 1x (1) Mistress of Mixtures
# 1x (1) Mortal Coil
# 1x (1) Sir Finley, Sea Guide
# 1x (1) Touch of the Nathrezim
# 1x (1) Unstable Felbolt
# 1x (2) Arson Accusation
# 1x (2) Astalor Bloodsworn
# 1x (2) Darkbomb
# 1x (2) Defile
# 1x (2) Dirty Rat
# 1x (2) Drain Soul
# 1x (2) Zephrys the Great
# 1x (3) Backfire
# 1x (3) Brann Bronzebeard
# 1x (3) Dark Skies
# 1x (3) Full-Blown Evil
# 1x (3) Prince Renathal
# 1x (3) Zola the Gorgon
# 1x (4) Blademaster Okani
# 1x (4) Demonic Assault
# 1x (4) Hysteria
# 1x (4) Kazakus
# 1x (4) Murloc Tastyfin
# 1x (4) Seadevil Stinger
# 1x (4) Soul Rend
# 1x (5) Loatheb
# 1x (5) Queen Azshara
# 1x (5) Spammy Arcanist
# 1x (5) Taelan Fordring
# 1x (6) Dreadlich Tamsin
# 1x (6) Entitled Customer
# 1x (6) Reno Jackson
# 1x (6) Theotar, the Mad Duke
# 1x (7) Lord Godfrey
# 1x (7) Mutanus the Devourer
# 1x (8) Gigafin
# 1x (9) Dragonqueen Alexstrasza
#
AAEBAcn1Aij6Dq0Q2LsC870C38QC58sC8tACnPgC4okD/KMD66wDkbEDvb4D184D+OMDkuQDk+QD2O0Dpu8DgfsDgvsDg/sDqIoEpY0EsJEEsZ8E56AE26ME5bAEx7IE27kE9ccEltQEmNQEmtQEm9QEuNkEsu0El+8E4qQFAAA=
#
# To use this deck, copy it to your clipboard and create a new deck in Hearthstone
submitted by iamthegrick106 to wildhearthstone [link] [comments]
The best part: I invite all of you to participate! Take the deck codes posted below and do the same thing I'm doing, and then dm me your records and impressions with any number of the decks as well as any changes you decided to make and how it changed the deck. All of the decks have been performing reasonably well so far so I have confidence that renothal isn't as dead as it has been made out to be by many people. Happy aggro farming!
### Renothal Mania #1 (DK)
# Class: Death Knight
# Format: Wild
#
# 1x (1) Armor Vendor
# 1x (1) Body Bagger
# 1x (1) Heart Strike
# 1x (1) Icy Touch
# 1x (1) Mistress of Mixtures
# 1x (1) Noxious Cadaver
# 1x (1) Sir Finley, Sea Guide
# 1x (2) Astalor Bloodsworn
# 1x (2) Cult Neophyte
# 1x (2) Dirty Rat
# 1x (2) Hematurge
# 1x (2) Obliterate
# 1x (2) Vampiric Blood
# 1x (2) Wandmaker
# 1x (2) Zephrys the Great
# 1x (3) Asphyxiate
# 1x (3) Brann Bronzebeard
# 1x (3) Chillfallen Baron
# 1x (3) Nerubian Vizier
# 1x (3) Pandaren Importer
# 1x (3) Prince Renathal
# 1x (3) Soulbreaker
# 1x (3) Venomous Scorpid
# 1x (3) Vulpera Scoundrel
# 1x (3) Zola the Gorgon
# 1x (4) Blademaster Okani
# 1x (4) Death Strike
# 1x (4) School Teacher
# 1x (4) Street Sweeper
# 1x (5) Blood Boil
# 1x (5) Corpse Explosion
# 1x (5) Deathbringer Saurfang
# 1x (5) Loatheb
# 1x (5) Queen Azshara
# 1x (6) Gnome Muncher
# 1x (6) Reno Jackson
# 1x (7) Alexandros Mograine
# 1x (7) Mutanus the Devourer
# 1x (7) Patchwerk
# 1x (8) Soulstealer
#
AAEBAfHhBCj6Dt/EAvyjA/7RA4vVA5LkA5boA6bvA8n5A+WwBMeyBJa3BNu5BJbUBJjUBJrUBJvUBOrjBPTjBPzjBP3jBP7jBInkBJTkBInmBLHmBLTmBI/tBJfvBK7vBIT2BIf2BLL3BLP3BLb6BKuABaiBBaKZBZekBeKkBQAA
#
# To use this deck, copy it to your clipboard and create a new deck in Hearthstone
### Renothal Mania #2 (DH)
# Class: Demon Hunter
# Format: Wild
#
# 1x (1) Consume Magic
# 1x (1) Double Jump
# 1x (1) Felscream Blast
# 1x (1) Illidari Studies
# 1x (1) Mana Burn
# 1x (1) Sigil of Alacrity
# 1x (1) Sir Finley, Sea Guide
# 1x (1) Unleash Fel
# 1x (2) Astalor Bloodsworn
# 1x (2) Bloodmage Thalnos
# 1x (2) Chaos Strike
# 1x (2) Dirty Rat
# 1x (2) Fel Barrage
# 1x (2) Felfire Deadeye
# 1x (2) Fossil Fanatic
# 1x (2) Immolation Aura
# 1x (2) Spectral Sight
# 1x (2) Talented Arcanist
# 1x (2) Zephrys the Great
# 1x (3) Brann Bronzebeard
# 1x (3) Herald of Chaos
# 1x (3) Prince Renathal
# 1x (3) Rustrot Viper
# 1x (3) Silvermoon Arcanist
# 1x (3) Soul Cleave
# 1x (4) Blademaster Okani
# 1x (4) Felerin, the Forgotten
# 1x (4) Guild Trader
# 1x (4) Prosecutor Mel'tranix
# 1x (4) School Teacher
# 1x (5) Loatheb
# 1x (5) Need for Greed
# 1x (5) Zai, the Incredible
# 1x (6) Kurtrus, Demon-Render
# 1x (6) Reno Jackson
# 1x (6) Theotar, the Mad Duke
# 1x (7) Expendable Performers
# 1x (7) Mutanus the Devourer
# 1x (7) Xhilag of the Abyss
# 1x (9) Dragonqueen Alexstrasza
#
AAEBAea5Ayj6Dt/EAvyjA5GxA4TDA9TIA/LJA9bRA93TA8fdA8rdA9HdA/PjA5DkA5XoA6bvA4n3A4r3A8X5A9D5A8iABIeLBLafBJegBLSgBOWwBMeyBJa3BP6/BMDKBKDOBJjUBJrUBLjZBO7tBJfvBIuSBaSSBZ2kBeKkBQAA
#
# To use this deck, copy it to your clipboard and create a new deck in Hearthstone
### Renothal Mania #3 (DRU)
# Class: Druid
# Format: Wild
#
# 1x (0) Aquatic Form
# 1x (1) Floop's Glorious Gloop
# 1x (1) Jade Idol
# 1x (1) Lesser Jasper Spellstone
# 1x (1) Nature Studies
# 1x (1) Sphere of Sapience
# 1x (2) Astalor Bloodsworn
# 1x (2) Dew Process
# 1x (2) Dirty Rat
# 1x (2) Lunar Eclipse
# 1x (2) Moonlit Guidance
# 1x (2) Solar Eclipse
# 1x (2) Wrath
# 1x (2) Zephrys the Great
# 1x (3) Brann Bronzebeard
# 1x (3) Ferocious Howl
# 1x (3) Jade Blossom
# 1x (3) Prince Renathal
# 1x (3) Rustrot Viper
# 1x (3) Wild Growth
# 1x (3) Zola the Gorgon
# 1x (4) Blademaster Okani
# 1x (4) Branching Paths
# 1x (4) Flobbidinous Floop
# 1x (4) Poison Seeds
# 1x (4) Twig of the World Tree
# 1x (4) Widowbloom Seedsman
# 1x (5) Flipper Friends
# 1x (5) Loatheb
# 1x (5) Spammy Arcanist
# 1x (5) Wildheart Guff
# 1x (6) Reno Jackson
# 1x (6) Spreading Plague
# 1x (6) Theotar, the Mad Duke
# 1x (7) Mutanus the Devourer
# 1x (7) Scale of Onyxia
# 1x (7) Topior the Shrubbagazzor
# 1x (8) Kazakusan
# 1x (8) Miracle Growth
# 1x (9) Dragonqueen Alexstrasza
#
AAEBAbr5AyiKDvoOtLsCy7wC38QCoM0CmNICntICm+gCv/IC9fwCxf0C/KMDkbEDj84Dm84DieADiuADpu8D0PkDr4AEiYsEpY0EiZ8Ez6wEhLAEx7IE9r0E/70ErsAEgNQEltQEmNQEmtQEuNkE794Ewd8EhO8El+8E4qQFAAA=
#
# To use this deck, copy it to your clipboard and create a new deck in Hearthstone
### Renothal Mania #4 (HUN)
# Class: Hunter
# Format: Wild
#
# 1x (0) Devouring Swarm
# 1x (1) Adorable Infestation
# 1x (1) Dwarven Sharpshooter
# 1x (1) Flare
# 1x (1) Peasant
# 1x (1) Springpaw
# 1x (1) Tracking
# 1x (1) Trueaim Crescent
# 1x (1) Vicious Slitherspear
# 1x (1) Wolpertinger
# 1x (2) Astalor Bloodsworn
# 1x (2) Conjured Arrow
# 1x (2) Cult Neophyte
# 1x (2) Doggie Biscuit
# 1x (2) Explosive Trap
# 1x (2) K9-0tron
# 1x (2) Quick Shot
# 1x (2) Selective Breeder
# 1x (2) Vrykul Necrolyte
# 1x (2) Zephrys the Great
# 1x (3) Brann Bronzebeard
# 1x (3) Dreadscale
# 1x (3) Forensic Duster
# 1x (3) Hawkstrider Rancher
# 1x (3) Prince Renathal
# 1x (3) Ramming Mount
# 1x (3) Stitched Tracker
# 1x (3) Unleash the Hounds
# 1x (3) Zola the Gorgon
# 1x (4) Blademaster Okani
# 1x (4) Lorekeeper Polkelt
# 1x (4) Rinling's Rifle
# 1x (4) Stonebound Gargon
# 1x (5) Ara'lon
# 1x (5) Barak Kodobane
# 1x (5) Loatheb
# 1x (6) Beaststalker Tavish
# 1x (6) Hope of Quel'Thalas
# 1x (6) Reno Jackson
# 1x (7) Dinotamer Brann
#
AAEBAbv5AyiAB9sJ+g7KFNPNAvyjA6alA/yvA6LOA+HOA7nSA4vVA/bWA4/jA+rpA+XvA/T2A8X7A5T8A8OABNuRBKmfBOOfBLugBIiyBMeyBL/TBJbUBJjUBJrUBLzjBNPkBJfvBKjvBKeQBbCTBY6kBeKkBYWqBeLFBQAA
#
# To use this deck, copy it to your clipboard and create a new deck in Hearthstone
### Renothal Mania #5 (MAG)
# Class: Mage
# Format: Wild
#
# 1x (1) Arcane Breath
# 1x (1) Arcane Wyrm
# 1x (1) First Flame
# 1x (1) Sir Finley, Sea Guide
# 1x (2) Astalor Bloodsworn
# 1x (2) Book of Specters
# 1x (2) Dirty Rat
# 1x (2) Mad Scientist
# 1x (2) Starscryer
# 1x (2) Zephrys the Great
# 1x (3) Amber Whelp
# 1x (3) Arcsplitter
# 1x (3) Brann Bronzebeard
# 1x (3) Coldlight Oracle
# 1x (3) Flame Ward
# 1x (3) Frostweave Dungeoneer
# 1x (3) Ice Block
# 1x (3) Prince Renathal
# 1x (3) Stargazer Luna
# 1x (3) Zola the Gorgon
# 1x (4) Blademaster Okani
# 1x (4) Deepwater Evoker
# 1x (4) Fire Sale
# 1x (4) Kazakus
# 1x (4) Potion of Illusion
# 1x (4) Varden Dawngrasp
# 1x (5) Barista Lynchen
# 1x (5) Loatheb
# 1x (5) Malygos, Aspect of Magic
# 1x (5) Spammy Arcanist
# 1x (6) Dragoncaster
# 1x (6) Reno Jackson
# 1x (6) Reno the Relicologist
# 1x (6) Theotar, the Mad Duke
# 1x (7) Luna's Pocket Galaxy
# 1x (7) Mutanus the Devourer
# 1x (9) Alexstrasza
# 1x (9) Alexstrasza the Life-Binder
# 1x (9) Dragonqueen Alexstrasza
# 1x (10) Raid Boss Onyxia
#
AAEBAcz6AyjAAcUE+Af3DfoO2LsC38QCzu8C7vYCxvgCvZkD/KMDkqQDv6QD+qwD8K8DkbED4bYD97gD5dED0uwDne4Dpu8Dp/cDrvcDk4EEsIoEpY0Epa0E5bAEx7IEltQEmNQEmtQEuNkEl+8Eo5MFxZMFq5gF4qQFAAA=
#
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### Renothal Mania #6 (PAL)
# Class: Paladin
# Format: Wild
#
# 1x (1) Crystology
# 1x (1) Flight of the Bronze
# 1x (1) Knight of Anointment
# 1x (1) Righteous Protector
# 1x (1) Sir Finley, Sea Guide
# 1x (2) Astalor Bloodsworn
# 1x (2) City Tax
# 1x (2) Conviction (Rank 1)
# 1x (2) Dirty Rat
# 1x (2) Hand of A'dal
# 1x (2) Order in the Court
# 1x (2) Redscale Dragontamer
# 1x (2) Sir Finley of the Sands
# 1x (2) Zephrys the Great
# 1x (3) Alliance Bannerman
# 1x (3) Amber Whelp
# 1x (3) Brann Bronzebeard
# 1x (3) Bronze Explorer
# 1x (3) High Priest Thekal
# 1x (3) Lord Barov
# 1x (3) Prince Renathal
# 1x (3) Stonehearth Vindicator
# 1x (4) Cariel Roame
# 1x (4) Daring Drake
# 1x (4) Nozdormu the Timeless
# 1x (5) Loatheb
# 1x (5) Spammy Arcanist
# 1x (5) Taelan Fordring
# 1x (6) Reno Jackson
# 1x (6) Theotar, the Mad Duke
# 1x (7) Anachronos
# 1x (7) Mutanus the Devourer
# 1x (7) The Leviathan
# 1x (8) Kazakusan
# 1x (8) Lightforged Cariel
# 1x (9) Alexstrasza
# 1x (9) Alexstrasza the Life-Binder
# 1x (9) Dragonqueen Alexstrasza
# 1x (10) Raid Boss Onyxia
# 1x (20) Molten Giant
#
AAEBAZmrBCjFBNwK+g7fxALZ/gLOhwODoQP8owOHrQORsQPKwQOT0AP53gPM6wPj6wOR7AOm7wPw9gOL+AOoigSwigTgiwSljQTJoAT5pASlrQSEsATlsASwsgSY1ASa1AS42QTA4gSX7wSjkwWkkwWnkwWvkwWRpAXipAUAAA==
#
# To use this deck, copy it to your clipboard and create a new deck in Hearthstone
### Renothal Mania #7 (PRI)
# Class: Priest
# Format: Wild
#
# 1x (0) Raise Dead
# 1x (1) Crystalsmith Cultist
# 1x (1) Mistress of Mixtures
# 1x (1) Shadowcloth Needle
# 1x (1) Sir Finley, Sea Guide
# 1x (2) Astalor Bloodsworn
# 1x (2) Cult Neophyte
# 1x (2) Defias Leper
# 1x (2) Dirty Rat
# 1x (2) Seance
# 1x (2) Shadow Visions
# 1x (2) Shadow Word: Death
# 1x (2) Thoughtsteal
# 1x (2) Thrive in the Shadows
# 1x (2) Zephrys the Great
# 1x (3) Brann Bronzebeard
# 1x (3) Cathedral of Atonement
# 1x (3) Devouring Plague
# 1x (3) Handmaiden
# 1x (3) Identity Theft
# 1x (3) Madame Lazul
# 1x (3) Palm Reading
# 1x (3) Prince Renathal
# 1x (4) Blademaster Okani
# 1x (4) Hysteria
# 1x (4) Kazakus
# 1x (5) Darkbishop Benedictus
# 1x (5) Excavated Evil
# 1x (5) Loatheb
# 1x (5) Queen Azshara
# 1x (5) Raza the Chained
# 1x (5) Spammy Arcanist
# 1x (6) Reno Jackson
# 1x (6) Sister Svalna
# 1x (6) Theotar, the Mad Duke
# 1x (7) Blackwater Behemoth
# 1x (7) Mutanus the Devourer
# 1x (7) Psychic Scream
# 1x (7) Soul Mirror
# 1x (8) Shadowreaper Anduin
#
AAEBAZ/HAige+g63F4O7Ati7AtHBAt/EAujQApDTAuaIA+ubA/yjA8i+A9fOA4vVA+LeA/jjA5vrA6bvA/TxA7v3A42BBK2KBKWNBMGfBOWwBMeyBKS2BKi2BNu5BJjUBJrUBJvUBLjZBLjcBJfvBIaDBeyRBe+RBeKkBQAA
#
# To use this deck, copy it to your clipboard and create a new deck in Hearthstone
### Renothal Mania #8 (ROG)
# Class: Rogue
# Format: Wild
#
# 1x (0) Shadow of Demise
# 1x (0) Shadowstep
# 1x (1) Armor Vendor
# 1x (1) Blackwater Cutlass
# 1x (1) Brain Freeze
# 1x (1) Concoctor
# 1x (1) Door of Shadows
# 1x (1) Gone Fishin'
# 1x (1) Prize Plunderer
# 1x (1) SI:7 Extortion
# 1x (1) Sir Finley, Sea Guide
# 1x (2) Astalor Bloodsworn
# 1x (2) Cult Neophyte
# 1x (2) Dirty Rat
# 1x (2) Potion Belt
# 1x (2) Potionmaster Putricide
# 1x (2) Sap
# 1x (2) Serrated Bone Spike
# 1x (2) Swindle
# 1x (2) Tenwu of the Red Smoke
# 1x (2) Tooth of Nefarian
# 1x (2) Zephrys the Great
# 1x (3) Brann Bronzebeard
# 1x (3) Bunker Sergeant
# 1x (3) Fan of Knives
# 1x (3) Prince Renathal
# 1x (4) Blademaster Okani
# 1x (4) Potion of Illusion
# 1x (4) Scabbs Cutterbutter
# 1x (4) Spirit of the Shark
# 1x (4) Street Sweeper
# 1x (5) Loatheb
# 1x (5) Queen Azshara
# 1x (5) Spammy Arcanist
# 1x (6) Flik Skyshiv
# 1x (6) Reno Jackson
# 1x (6) Vanish
# 1x (7) Mutanus the Devourer
# 1x (8) Shadowcrafter Scabbs
# 1x (9) Dragonqueen Alexstrasza
#
AAEBAZurBCjEAc0DmwX6Dt/EArSGA/yjA8GuA5GxA8fOA+XRA4vVA+fdA/PdA8PhA5LkA6bvA53wA6H0A72ABPuKBKWNBPafBNKkBPmsBOWwBMeyBLezBNu5BJjUBJrUBPTdBPXdBJfvBK7vBMygBd+gBeCgBeigBeKkBQAA
#
# To use this deck, copy it to your clipboard and create a new deck in Hearthstone
### Renothal Mania #9 (SHA)
# Class: Shaman
# Format: Wild
#
# 1x (1) Armor Vendor
# 1x (1) Devolving Missiles
# 1x (1) Scalding Geyser
# 1x (1) Schooling
# 1x (1) Sir Finley, Sea Guide
# 1x (1) Sphere of Sapience
# 1x (1) Toxfin
# 1x (2) Astalor Bloodsworn
# 1x (2) Bolner Hammerbeak
# 1x (2) Dirty Rat
# 1x (2) Firemancer Flurgl
# 1x (2) Frostbite
# 1x (2) Ice Fishing
# 1x (2) Maelstrom Portal
# 1x (2) Sleetbreaker
# 1x (2) Zephrys the Great
# 1x (3) Brann Bronzebeard
# 1x (3) Brilliant Macaw
# 1x (3) Bunker Sergeant
# 1x (3) Clownfish
# 1x (3) Healing Rain
# 1x (3) Lightning Storm
# 1x (3) Prince Renathal
# 1x (3) Tidal Surge
# 1x (3) Twin-fin Fin Twin
# 1x (3) Zola the Gorgon
# 1x (4) Blademaster Okani
# 1x (4) Lorekeeper Polkelt
# 1x (4) Scargil
# 1x (5) Boompistol Bully
# 1x (5) Loatheb
# 1x (5) Rotgill
# 1x (6) Grumble, Worldshaker
# 1x (6) Reno Jackson
# 1x (6) Snowfall Guardian
# 1x (6) Sylvanas, the Accused
# 1x (7) Mutanus the Devourer
# 1x (8) Bru'kan of the Elements
# 1x (9) Dragonqueen Alexstrasza
# 1x (9) Shudderwock
#
AAEBAZyrBCj6Dt/EAovOAqvnAvPnAu/3ArWYA5ybA/yjA5GxA8O2A+DMA4/OA/bWA5LkA6juA6bvA4b6A9OABLmRBMORBPmRBJWSBP2fBPCgBNKkBOWwBMeyBOC1BLy2BJzHBMXOBIfUBJbUBJjUBJrUBJfvBKTvBPSgBeKkBQAA
#
# To use this deck, copy it to your clipboard and create a new deck in Hearthstone
### Renothal Mania #10 (WAR)
# Class: Warlock
# Format: Wild
#
# 1x (0) Raise Dead
# 1x (1) Armor Vendor
# 1x (1) Kobold Librarian
# 1x (1) Mistress of Mixtures
# 1x (1) Mortal Coil
# 1x (1) Sir Finley, Sea Guide
# 1x (1) Touch of the Nathrezim
# 1x (1) Unstable Felbolt
# 1x (2) Arson Accusation
# 1x (2) Astalor Bloodsworn
# 1x (2) Darkbomb
# 1x (2) Defile
# 1x (2) Dirty Rat
# 1x (2) Drain Soul
# 1x (2) Zephrys the Great
# 1x (3) Backfire
# 1x (3) Brann Bronzebeard
# 1x (3) Dark Skies
# 1x (3) Full-Blown Evil
# 1x (3) Prince Renathal
# 1x (3) Zola the Gorgon
# 1x (4) Blademaster Okani
# 1x (4) Demonic Assault
# 1x (4) Hysteria
# 1x (4) Kazakus
# 1x (4) Murloc Tastyfin
# 1x (4) Seadevil Stinger
# 1x (4) Soul Rend
# 1x (5) Loatheb
# 1x (5) Queen Azshara
# 1x (5) Spammy Arcanist
# 1x (5) Taelan Fordring
# 1x (6) Dreadlich Tamsin
# 1x (6) Entitled Customer
# 1x (6) Reno Jackson
# 1x (6) Theotar, the Mad Duke
# 1x (7) Lord Godfrey
# 1x (7) Mutanus the Devourer
# 1x (8) Gigafin
# 1x (9) Dragonqueen Alexstrasza
#
AAEBAcn1Aij6Dq0Q2LsC870C38QC58sC8tACnPgC4okD/KMD66wDkbEDvb4D184D+OMDkuQDk+QD2O0Dpu8DgfsDgvsDg/sDqIoEpY0EsJEEsZ8E56AE26ME5bAEx7IE27kE9ccEltQEmNQEmtQEm9QEuNkEsu0El+8E4qQFAAA=
#
# To use this deck, copy it to your clipboard and create a new deck in Hearthstone
2023.01.29 23:10 Amanda39 The Woman in White, Final Discussion
Welcome back to our last discussion of The Woman in White: "Say hello to my little friend. (He's down here. His name is Pesca and he's really short.)"
I'm sorry I was really late with this one today. I was going to write the summary yesterday, butI got wet in the rain and contracted typhus I had a really bad migraine.
We begin four months after last week's section ended. Life has been good for our little trio. Walter's employment has improved, Marian is doing better, and, most important of all, Laura is well on her way to recovery. It looks like the only major change that she has permanently suffered is that she still has no memory (aside from nightmares) of the time she left Blackwater Park to the time Marian rescued her.
Of course, this leads to changes in Walter's relationship with her. They are no longer caregiver and patient--they're falling in love again. And so Walter decides to make things official: with Marian's blessing, he proposes to Laura, and they get married. Walter is now more determined than ever to defeat Count Fosco--he's fighting for the sake of his wife.
Walter tries to think of how he can attack Fosco. He remembers Marian's diary mentioning that Fosco avoids Italy and other Italians, that he received mail with official-looking seals on it, and that Madame Fosco seemed terrified by Laura's exclamation that "the Count is a spy!" What if Fosco really is a spy? But what should Walter's next step be? Maybe he should get advice from another Italian, one also suspected of being a political exile...
...right-all-right, everyone, PESCA'S BACK!!!!!
(Walter apologizes for the lack of Pesca up to this point. Apparently he's always been there in the background, but Walter didn't include him in the story because he wasn't relevant. Screw you, Walter, I don't care if he's relevant! He's the best character in the story!)
But first, Walter, who has never actually seen Count Fosco, needs to do some spying of his own. He goes to Fosco's house and watches through a window as Fosco trains his canaries, then follows him as Fosco walks down the street, singing The Prayer from Rossini's Moses in Egypt. Fosco sees an Italian organ grinder with a monkey (see the comment section for an article about Italian animal trainers in Victorian England) and, in true Fosco fashion, is kind to the monkey while telling the man to go screw himself.
Fosco sees an ad for an opera being performed tonight: Lucrezia Borgia. (An opera based on the real-life Lucrezia Borgia who was famous for poisoning her enemies, so that's funny. Fosco's probably like "what a wonderful chemist!") He heads off to the box office to get tickets, and Walter decides that this is a perfect opportunity: he'll get tickets for himself and Pesca, Pesca will recognize Fosco (all Italians know each other, right?) and then he'll find out from Pesca how to defeat Fosco.
So they go to the opera, and Pesca doesn't recognize Fosco, but Fosco very clearly recognizes Pesca, and is terrified of him. (There's also a guy with a scar watching them the whole time, but more about that later.) Walter leaves early with Pesca and demands to know what that was all about, and which point Pesca reveals the shocking truth: Pesca is actually a member of "The Brotherhood," a secret political society. (Clearly meant to be a fictional version of The Carbonari.) Pesca was once a high-ranking official, the secretary to the president of the Italian chapter, but he more or less got himself exiled to England ten years ago due to something reckless that his impulsive and over-enthusiastic nature led him to do. (Pesca, impulsive and over-enthusiastic? You don't say!) Fosco must also be a Brotherhood member, and must have met Pesca at some point over ten years ago. It's not surprising that he remembers Pesca but Pesca doesn't remember him: You can make yourself unrecognizable by gaining weight and wearing a wig, but there's no disguising short.
Fosco must be afraid of Pesca because he's afraid of the Brotherhood. He must have betrayed them, acting as a spy. Walter finally has something to use against Fosco! He makes plans to meet with Pesca the next morning. He will confront Fosco tonight. He writes a letter to Pesca telling him to sic the Brotherhood on Fosco, with instructions that Pesca should only read the letter if Walter doesn't make it to their 9 AM meeting.
Walter arrives at Fosco's house to find him violently packing to leave England. Walter makes it clear that he knows why Fosco is fleeing, without actually stating it, by alluding to the mark of the Brotherhood hidden on Fosco's arm. Fosco threatens to pull out a gun and "add to the disorder in this room by scattering your brains about the fireplace," but Walter lets him know about the whole "if I'm not alive at 9 tomorrow, someone in the Brotherhood will read a letter about you" thing.
Walter places two demands on Fosco: a written confession of what he and Sir Percival did, and proof of the date that Laura left Blackwater Park. Fosco agrees, with the conditions that 1) Walter does not prevent the Count or Madame Fosco from leaving the house, 2) Walter stays under Fosco's watch until 7:00, and lets Fosco send Mrs. Rubelle's husband to retrieve the letter that Walter sent Pesca, to be destroyed unopened by Fosco, and 3) once Fosco has left England, he will contact Walter and Walter will come to him, to duel him.
Walter agrees, and Fosco writes furiously for the next several hours. At the end of all of this, Walter has three things: a letter from Sir Percival providing the date of Laura's departure, the contact information of the carriage driver that took her away, and Fosco's narrative.
(Before we get to Fosco's narrative, can I just take a moment to admire how the narrative structure intersects with the plot here? This story is told in a series of narratives, and Walter proved Laura's identity by forcing Fosco to participate in the storytelling process. The story solves itself by writing itself!)
Okay, so we finally hear from the Count himself, Isidor Ottavio Baldassare Fosco!
Fosco travelled to England not just as a guest of Sir Percival, but because of a secret mission that he will not reveal in this narrative. We get to read all about his enormous crush on Marian at this point. Most of what Fosco tells us, we already know: he needed money, he needed to find Anne Catherick because losing Sir Percival would mean losing his chance at getting money, he came up with a nefarious plan to make Anne and Laura switch identities, Marian has an incredible ass, etc.
We then get a lengthy bragging rant about what a great chemist Fosco is. We learn that he had Madame Fosco drug Fanny in order to steal Marian's letters, and that he had drugged Laura when she arrived in London.
More stuff we already know, about how he tricked Mrs. Clements, visited Mr. Fairlie because of Marian's letter, stalked Marian so he could watch her ass while she walked, etc. (Yes, that last part is actually in the book!) We do learn something new: he'd been giving Sir Percival stimulants the entire time, with probably explains Sir Percival's explosive behavior.
Finally we get to the one missing detail: what happened to Anne while Madame Fosco was distracting Mrs. Clements? While Mrs. Clements was out, Count Fosco showed up and told Anne that he was taking her to Laura and Mrs. Clements. He earned her trust by reminding her that he had advised her and Mrs. Clements to move to London to escape the notice of Sir Percival, and that he had given her the medication that had given her the strength for the journey.
And then Count Fosco made a stupid, stupid mistake.
I said last week that you can tell a lot about a character by how they portray Anne in their narrative. Fosco barely saw Anne as human, and thus failed to consider that she might realize she was being kidnapped, and that this realization might terrify her. Even after he realized his mistake, he explains it as "underrat[ing] the keenness of the lower instincts in persons of weak intellect" and compares her to a dog acting on instincts.
Guess what happens if you terrify someone who's prone to heart attacks? That's right, they have a heart attack. Fosco accidentally killed Anne prematurely. Anne died before Laura arrived in London, creating a critical flaw in the timeline of Fosco and Sir Percival's plan. The only thing Count Fosco and Sir Percival could do was carry on and hope no one noticed.
More stuff we already know, about Fosco drugging Laura and having Madame Rubelle change her into Anne's clothes. Good news, u/escherwallace: Fosco makes no mention of Mrs. Vesey, so it's extremely likely that your beloved was not involved in anything evil and Laura just hallucinated being with her.
Anyhow, Fosco ultimately blames his love for Marian for the failure of his plan. He allowed Laura to remain free for Marian's sake. "Youths! I invoke your sympathy. Maidens! I claim your tears." I am sure we are all sobbing over this tragic love story.
Fosco closes his narrative with three incredibly disturbing claims:
1) Nothing he did to Madame Fosco to make her a creepy Stepford Wife was illegal or unethical... if you're basing "legal" and "ethical" on 19th century British marriage laws, that is.
2) If Anne had lived too long instead of dying too soon, he would have "euthanized" her.
3) Count Fosco is absolutely convinced that this narrative proves him to be blameless and admirable. After all, he didn't murder anyone.
Using this information, Walter is able to track down the carriage driver, who remembers Laura. He goes to Mr. Kyrle and, between the carriage record and the narratives, they are able to reestablish Laura's identity. They have a big ceremony and the tombstone is altered so it now bears Anne Catherick's name, not Laura's.
Time passes. Walter is doing well at his job. Eventually, he has a business trip to Paris. While he's there, he finds out about a spectacle at the Morgue: an enormous fat man was found dead in the Seine. Yup, it's Fosco. That scarred guy who was lurking around the last few chapters was in the Brotherhood, and he finally got him. Guess Walter won't be dueling Fosco after all.
One last thing before we close: Walter and Laura have a baby! We get a nice little closing scene where everyone's gathered together at the christening party. Mrs. Vesey and Mrs. Clements are both there, Pesca and Mr. Gilmore are the godfathers and Marian is the godmother. (Mr. Gilmore wasn't present, but he returned a year later, and wrote his narrative, making it the final narrative in the story.) And then, when little Walter was six months old, Mr. Fairlie finally kicked the bucket, and little Walter inherited Limmeridge. The End.
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I'm sorry I was really late with this one today. I was going to write the summary yesterday, but
We begin four months after last week's section ended. Life has been good for our little trio. Walter's employment has improved, Marian is doing better, and, most important of all, Laura is well on her way to recovery. It looks like the only major change that she has permanently suffered is that she still has no memory (aside from nightmares) of the time she left Blackwater Park to the time Marian rescued her.
Of course, this leads to changes in Walter's relationship with her. They are no longer caregiver and patient--they're falling in love again. And so Walter decides to make things official: with Marian's blessing, he proposes to Laura, and they get married. Walter is now more determined than ever to defeat Count Fosco--he's fighting for the sake of his wife.
Walter tries to think of how he can attack Fosco. He remembers Marian's diary mentioning that Fosco avoids Italy and other Italians, that he received mail with official-looking seals on it, and that Madame Fosco seemed terrified by Laura's exclamation that "the Count is a spy!" What if Fosco really is a spy? But what should Walter's next step be? Maybe he should get advice from another Italian, one also suspected of being a political exile...
...right-all-right, everyone, PESCA'S BACK!!!!!
(Walter apologizes for the lack of Pesca up to this point. Apparently he's always been there in the background, but Walter didn't include him in the story because he wasn't relevant. Screw you, Walter, I don't care if he's relevant! He's the best character in the story!)
But first, Walter, who has never actually seen Count Fosco, needs to do some spying of his own. He goes to Fosco's house and watches through a window as Fosco trains his canaries, then follows him as Fosco walks down the street, singing The Prayer from Rossini's Moses in Egypt. Fosco sees an Italian organ grinder with a monkey (see the comment section for an article about Italian animal trainers in Victorian England) and, in true Fosco fashion, is kind to the monkey while telling the man to go screw himself.
Fosco sees an ad for an opera being performed tonight: Lucrezia Borgia. (An opera based on the real-life Lucrezia Borgia who was famous for poisoning her enemies, so that's funny. Fosco's probably like "what a wonderful chemist!") He heads off to the box office to get tickets, and Walter decides that this is a perfect opportunity: he'll get tickets for himself and Pesca, Pesca will recognize Fosco (all Italians know each other, right?) and then he'll find out from Pesca how to defeat Fosco.
So they go to the opera, and Pesca doesn't recognize Fosco, but Fosco very clearly recognizes Pesca, and is terrified of him. (There's also a guy with a scar watching them the whole time, but more about that later.) Walter leaves early with Pesca and demands to know what that was all about, and which point Pesca reveals the shocking truth: Pesca is actually a member of "The Brotherhood," a secret political society. (Clearly meant to be a fictional version of The Carbonari.) Pesca was once a high-ranking official, the secretary to the president of the Italian chapter, but he more or less got himself exiled to England ten years ago due to something reckless that his impulsive and over-enthusiastic nature led him to do. (Pesca, impulsive and over-enthusiastic? You don't say!) Fosco must also be a Brotherhood member, and must have met Pesca at some point over ten years ago. It's not surprising that he remembers Pesca but Pesca doesn't remember him: You can make yourself unrecognizable by gaining weight and wearing a wig, but there's no disguising short.
Fosco must be afraid of Pesca because he's afraid of the Brotherhood. He must have betrayed them, acting as a spy. Walter finally has something to use against Fosco! He makes plans to meet with Pesca the next morning. He will confront Fosco tonight. He writes a letter to Pesca telling him to sic the Brotherhood on Fosco, with instructions that Pesca should only read the letter if Walter doesn't make it to their 9 AM meeting.
Walter arrives at Fosco's house to find him violently packing to leave England. Walter makes it clear that he knows why Fosco is fleeing, without actually stating it, by alluding to the mark of the Brotherhood hidden on Fosco's arm. Fosco threatens to pull out a gun and "add to the disorder in this room by scattering your brains about the fireplace," but Walter lets him know about the whole "if I'm not alive at 9 tomorrow, someone in the Brotherhood will read a letter about you" thing.
Walter places two demands on Fosco: a written confession of what he and Sir Percival did, and proof of the date that Laura left Blackwater Park. Fosco agrees, with the conditions that 1) Walter does not prevent the Count or Madame Fosco from leaving the house, 2) Walter stays under Fosco's watch until 7:00, and lets Fosco send Mrs. Rubelle's husband to retrieve the letter that Walter sent Pesca, to be destroyed unopened by Fosco, and 3) once Fosco has left England, he will contact Walter and Walter will come to him, to duel him.
Walter agrees, and Fosco writes furiously for the next several hours. At the end of all of this, Walter has three things: a letter from Sir Percival providing the date of Laura's departure, the contact information of the carriage driver that took her away, and Fosco's narrative.
(Before we get to Fosco's narrative, can I just take a moment to admire how the narrative structure intersects with the plot here? This story is told in a series of narratives, and Walter proved Laura's identity by forcing Fosco to participate in the storytelling process. The story solves itself by writing itself!)
Okay, so we finally hear from the Count himself, Isidor Ottavio Baldassare Fosco!
Fosco travelled to England not just as a guest of Sir Percival, but because of a secret mission that he will not reveal in this narrative. We get to read all about his enormous crush on Marian at this point. Most of what Fosco tells us, we already know: he needed money, he needed to find Anne Catherick because losing Sir Percival would mean losing his chance at getting money, he came up with a nefarious plan to make Anne and Laura switch identities, Marian has an incredible ass, etc.
We then get a lengthy bragging rant about what a great chemist Fosco is. We learn that he had Madame Fosco drug Fanny in order to steal Marian's letters, and that he had drugged Laura when she arrived in London.
More stuff we already know, about how he tricked Mrs. Clements, visited Mr. Fairlie because of Marian's letter, stalked Marian so he could watch her ass while she walked, etc. (Yes, that last part is actually in the book!) We do learn something new: he'd been giving Sir Percival stimulants the entire time, with probably explains Sir Percival's explosive behavior.
Finally we get to the one missing detail: what happened to Anne while Madame Fosco was distracting Mrs. Clements? While Mrs. Clements was out, Count Fosco showed up and told Anne that he was taking her to Laura and Mrs. Clements. He earned her trust by reminding her that he had advised her and Mrs. Clements to move to London to escape the notice of Sir Percival, and that he had given her the medication that had given her the strength for the journey.
And then Count Fosco made a stupid, stupid mistake.
I said last week that you can tell a lot about a character by how they portray Anne in their narrative. Fosco barely saw Anne as human, and thus failed to consider that she might realize she was being kidnapped, and that this realization might terrify her. Even after he realized his mistake, he explains it as "underrat[ing] the keenness of the lower instincts in persons of weak intellect" and compares her to a dog acting on instincts.
Guess what happens if you terrify someone who's prone to heart attacks? That's right, they have a heart attack. Fosco accidentally killed Anne prematurely. Anne died before Laura arrived in London, creating a critical flaw in the timeline of Fosco and Sir Percival's plan. The only thing Count Fosco and Sir Percival could do was carry on and hope no one noticed.
More stuff we already know, about Fosco drugging Laura and having Madame Rubelle change her into Anne's clothes. Good news, u/escherwallace: Fosco makes no mention of Mrs. Vesey, so it's extremely likely that your beloved was not involved in anything evil and Laura just hallucinated being with her.
Anyhow, Fosco ultimately blames his love for Marian for the failure of his plan. He allowed Laura to remain free for Marian's sake. "Youths! I invoke your sympathy. Maidens! I claim your tears." I am sure we are all sobbing over this tragic love story.
Fosco closes his narrative with three incredibly disturbing claims:
1) Nothing he did to Madame Fosco to make her a creepy Stepford Wife was illegal or unethical... if you're basing "legal" and "ethical" on 19th century British marriage laws, that is.
2) If Anne had lived too long instead of dying too soon, he would have "euthanized" her.
3) Count Fosco is absolutely convinced that this narrative proves him to be blameless and admirable. After all, he didn't murder anyone.
Using this information, Walter is able to track down the carriage driver, who remembers Laura. He goes to Mr. Kyrle and, between the carriage record and the narratives, they are able to reestablish Laura's identity. They have a big ceremony and the tombstone is altered so it now bears Anne Catherick's name, not Laura's.
Time passes. Walter is doing well at his job. Eventually, he has a business trip to Paris. While he's there, he finds out about a spectacle at the Morgue: an enormous fat man was found dead in the Seine. Yup, it's Fosco. That scarred guy who was lurking around the last few chapters was in the Brotherhood, and he finally got him. Guess Walter won't be dueling Fosco after all.
One last thing before we close: Walter and Laura have a baby! We get a nice little closing scene where everyone's gathered together at the christening party. Mrs. Vesey and Mrs. Clements are both there, Pesca and Mr. Gilmore are the godfathers and Marian is the godmother. (Mr. Gilmore wasn't present, but he returned a year later, and wrote his narrative, making it the final narrative in the story.) And then, when little Walter was six months old, Mr. Fairlie finally kicked the bucket, and little Walter inherited Limmeridge. The End.
2023.01.23 01:02 YaaliAnnar NoP: Lost and Found (4)
CW: Animal slaughter and processing. Description of gruesome death.
First Previous
Memory Transcription Subject: Taksak, arxur farmer
Date [Standardized Human Reckoning]: 2132-05-30
To be an arxur is to hunger. But it wasn’t always this way.
The Treachery of the Federation had debased my people into brute savages driven by our ravenous need for food. With our native cattle dead, we were forced to hunt and consume fellow sapients. I understand this gruesome necessity, without which we would starve and wither away.
But, cruelty is not a need, it's a want. A want that the higher up the chain propagated either because of their shared delusion or maybe sick pleasure.
When I was a hatchling I used to cheer during televised execution or public slaughter. I did all these despite my feeling of unease because... I thought these were the rituals that we have to do as a society. It was only later that I learned that my people actually felt enjoyment from suffering.
The Federation started this nightmare, but we reveled in it.
I was born the second from a pair of arxur farmers. My parents were drafted and didn't come back when a raid on a Gojidi colony went wrong. My older sister took care of me while maintaining the farm. When I grew old enough to handle the farm by myself, she left for the Betterment. After years, doing everything all by myself started to get a bit too much for me.
So today my sister came with a young arxur man in tow.
"He'll be your assistant." She said with an air of finality. My sister didn't even give her captive the dignity of a landing ramp. This assistant had to jump a meter from her airship. As soon as the lithe arxur touched the ground, my sister flew away.
"Are you alright?" I helped him stand. "How much did my sister explain?"
"That I have a second chance on your farm. That’s… pretty much it."
"She’s not wrong." I walked back to my farmhouse, the arxur had no choice but to follow me.
"When was your last kill?" I presume he’s not the kind who won't even slit a prey’s throat. As much as my sister tolerate my quirk, she would have disposed of any arxur who hesitate to take a life.
"More than a week ago. It was lunchtime and my squad mate challenged me to be the one who draw the first blood" He answered. "I can kill but..."
"But the screaming keeps you awake at sleep time, isn't it?"
"Yeah..."
I wondered how my sister found him, but that would be a story for later.
“On this farm, you will work hard. It won’t be a short burst of activities like hunting, you will toil all day long.”
“Yes sir.”
“You may call me Taksak, what’s your name?”
“Tresn, sir.”
We reached my farmhouse and from there kept going forward past it to the slaughterhouse. I stole a glance at him and noticed that he eyed the scabbard around my waist.
“You’re allowed to ask anything. Nothing will annoy or upset me at any point.”
“What’s that sword, sir?”
“That, you’ll see”.
We entered the farm’s staging pen where previously I had sequestered a handful of venlil for processing. The plump preys looked up at me with their glassy eye. These diminished prey animals stood on their four limbs and only understood words at the level of toddlers.
I suspect that my parents would see me eye to eye on the state of our civilization. After the news of their KIA, my sister did not disturb their room. But my inquisitive little self rummaged through their belonging and found several copies from before the Federation. Among many ancient documents, there was a book of prayer and a manual for farming.
From my satchel, I took a blindfold and wrapped them around the eyes of one of the pliable cattle. Tresn had been watching me work and tried to hold himself from asking the question again. But he finally couldn’t hold his curiosity any longer when he saw me lifting one of the cattle.
“What… are you doing to these cattle? Why are they standing on all four?”
“These are captive breeds. The first generation was raised without their parents so they don’t develop the fear their parents taught them.”
One of the cattle bumped its head against Tresn’s leg and sniffed him. The arxur seemed unnerved about it.
“Follow me.”
With Tresn trailing beside me I carried the heavy venlil into the slaughter room. I put its head on the base of the stock and brought the top part down, locking its head. The venlil panicked and thrashed, but it calmed down after I stroked its head.
I pulled my sword from its scabbard. My sister used to jeer at me for using a weapon to slaughter, but I reminded her that the sharp weapon can cleave through her as well as through cattle. Raising my sword, I began reciting.
"I recognize the sanctity of life and the weight of taking it. I will make sure your death is as swift and painless as possible and I will honor your life by using every part of you to the fullest." with their dim understanding of arxur language, these words were more for me than for them.
With all my might I brought down my sword in a swift motion. The edge of the sword made a sharp blunt sound as it struck the wooden block on the floor meant to stop it. The venlil’s head fell onto the grated floor and orange blood sputtered out of the stump.
I picked its head up and gently put them down on the preparation table. I read that a head might still retain consciousness for minutes after decapitation. Better for them to keep being blindfolded until their brain completely ceased functioning.
I looked at Tresn and an understanding began to dawn on him.
“The prayer… the sword… this is… the farming practice of our ancestors isn’t it?”
Clever boy.
“Back then, our ancestors would be doing this to non-sapient cattle. But we make do with what the universe has handed to us.”
“Did your parents start this?”
“Oh, they still slaughter with their claws.” My parents were like just like other farmers. They prefer goring their cattle with their own claws, making the subsequent processing less efficient. Sometimes, they even decided to take some snacks in between.
“Raising nearly mindless cattle started from my mother’s mother though. She was the original founder of this farm.”
"I assume… your sister knows that you’re dabbling in the way of the ancestors?”
“She tolerated it only because I provided flesh with the best quality.” Though, I suspect that my sister has that spark of compassion either. I have a theory that she joined Betterment precisely to cover for me.
“Now your turn. Bring me another cattle. It’s important that you blindfold them properly. They will panic if they see what happened here and everything will get messy.”
“Yes, Sir.”
I followed him outside and observed as he did the whole processing by himself, from blindfolding the cattle to putting them in the stock. I understand now why my sister picked Tresn. He was an unnaturally quick learner.
As he received my longsword, Tresn looked at the cattle and at me again. “Pardon me Sir, but I still have not memorized the prayer.”
“The prayer is not the point.” I said, “the prayer is there to remind me… to remind us that they die so we may live.”
He affirmed with a swish of his tail. The young arxur lifted my sword and brought it down on the second venlil.
“That was… fast.” He remarked.
“Cruelty does not make their flesh more nutritious. On the contrary, my cattle’s flesh has better quality exactly because I care for them.”
From the tool rack in the slaughterhouse, I took a pair of knives and cleavers. “Take this, you’ll now learn how to process them.”
Tresn further proved his worth as he followed my lead in processing the cattle. From the sterilized table, their blood flows into a receptacle. When coagulated, they can make for a tasty snack. As we carved the meat from the bone I spoke up again.
“I meant what I meant when I said we will use every part of them. Here you’ll learn how to make leather too.” I said as I made an incision to skin them.
“How about their bone?” Tresn asked.
“The bone itself will be grounded into bonemeal as fertilizer for the plants that the prey needed. You will learn how to grow those too.”
“We’re going to grow plants?” I detected a hint of distaste in his answer.
“Nutritious and tasty flesh comes from healthy cattle, and healthy cattle need more than just grass and leaves. Our ancestors understood this.”
“Farming is really more complex than I thought. Did our ancestors even hunt at all?”
“Of course they did, the desire for the hunt is what defined us. But for our ancestors, hunting was a spiritual need, not a base one. On their coming of age, a young arxur would hunt prey on their own.”
Prey that the Federation has annihilated.
As I began skinning the venlil I continued. “Our ancestors used to have holidays and festivals where people gather to hunt giant prey animals. Those hunts were a way for our ancestors to commune with their ancestors. After our day is over, I’ll give you the documents that my parents left me behind. You can read all about what our people used to be.”
I opened the blindfold from one of the decapitated heads. Their dead eyes seemingly looked at me with accusation. As I began sawing their skull to process the brain inside I thought about what the venlil would have become, had my ancestors not enslaved his ancestors.
“So much… wasted potential” I heard him muttering under his breath when he finally opened the skull.
“In a kinder universe, this brain will be responsible for great inventions and feat of intelligence. But here… it nourishes us.”
“They die so we may live.” He said in agreement.
Memory Transcription Subject: Vani, venlil necrologist
Date [Standardized Human Reckoning]: 2136-07-12
On the day when the galaxy changed, I was working at my job.
Time goes so fast that it feels like my interview with the hospital director happened yesterday. I remembered she looked at me warily from one eye, while her other eye was reading my CV. I let her conclude an opinion, but I am an adult now. So unless I committed a crime, no one can force me into a correctional facility.
With a polymer apron and gloves on, I pushed the gurney into the Blackwater hospital’s morgue. I shuddered as the temperature dropped in a sudden. In the middle, two autopsy tables stood empty while to my left and right a matrix of drawers filled the walls. I turned on my visual overlay and the drawer that contained the body I am assigned to this shift glows orange. I adjusted the gurney to the drawer’s height before pulling it out.
Puffs of even colder air came out of the drawer when I opened it. To fight decomposition, the temperature has to be as cold as possible without freezing the body. I adjusted the gurney a bit so that the front part of the drawer slot into it. The drawer has a removable bottom, and it’s designed in such a way that I can transfer the body from the drawer to the table without actually lifting it. Inside the drawer, a white polymer sheet covered the body.
I had the habit of not reading the detailed report before seeing a corpse I am assigned to. I want to see how much I can guess what happened to the poor person, but… I also wanted to see if any dead body would be able to trigger an emotional reaction. So far, nothing. After transporting the corpse onto the table I carefully pulled the white sheets out to reveal the victim beneath.
There were no visible injuries on the man’s head and chest. In fact, he looked serene as if he was sleeping. It was not until I saw his body from the waist down that I could piece together what was happening. This poor guy definitely fell from a high place and got impaled vertically on a thick blunt object… like a bollard. I imagined how the emergency medical technician would deal with this in situ.
That was when I finally opened the case file. Just like I suspected, the victim was found in front of his apartment in the exact condition I mentioned. Signs so far pointed to an improbable but not impossible accident. I am here to make sure there was really no foul play
I made sure the camera attached to the table was turned on before I proceeded. I took the scalpel from the trolley beside the table and as I was about to make the incision, the hospital’s public announcement system blared out.
“Possible Orbital Bombardment, Please Go to Your Nearest shelter.”
The message, while calm, repeats indefinitely.
“Possible Orbital Bombardment, Please Go to Your Nearest shelter.”
I hastily covered the body again and turned on the autopsy table’s emergency cooling system. Since I do not have the time to put the body back into the drawer, this has to suffice.
As I hurried out of the morgue I wondered what was happening. Orbital bombardment implies an invasion, but by whom? The arxurs? We are placed far away from the Dominion volume. Even in the fastest scenario, we would have a couple of days to prepare. This level of emergency implies an immediate threat. The emergency light showed marking on the floor, guiding me on where to go.
I saw the first venlil after I turned right on the first junction I found. Upon seeing me, the nurse squealed and hurried up. I realized I was still wearing my necrologist apron and glove, I discarded them on the nearest biohazard receptacle I passed.
After walking for several minutes, the corridor leads to the emergency stairs shaft. The door has been propped open so that everyone can just pass through.
Other medical personnel and outpatients were still poured in in an orderly manner when I came in. Hospitals placed the in-patients deep underground, so we did not have to evacuate them. When I listened to the restless murmur around me, I thought about what happened once more. It is not impossible that the arxur deliberately moved around our volume and doubled back to attack us from the least unexpected direction. It sounds like a lot of effort, but the alternative that I can think of was less likely.
We might have another first contact with hostile aliens, which is why it was unanticipated and so sudden. But that surely can not happen… right? As I reached the sixth landing I felt silly for not considering the most obvious scenario.
Of course, this was just a drill.
Next
Note: Tresn name does sound like "Treason", but that's not where I get his name.
submitted by YaaliAnnar to NatureofPredators [link] [comments]
First Previous
Date [Standardized Human Reckoning]: 2132-05-30
To be an arxur is to hunger. But it wasn’t always this way.
The Treachery of the Federation had debased my people into brute savages driven by our ravenous need for food. With our native cattle dead, we were forced to hunt and consume fellow sapients. I understand this gruesome necessity, without which we would starve and wither away.
But, cruelty is not a need, it's a want. A want that the higher up the chain propagated either because of their shared delusion or maybe sick pleasure.
When I was a hatchling I used to cheer during televised execution or public slaughter. I did all these despite my feeling of unease because... I thought these were the rituals that we have to do as a society. It was only later that I learned that my people actually felt enjoyment from suffering.
The Federation started this nightmare, but we reveled in it.
I was born the second from a pair of arxur farmers. My parents were drafted and didn't come back when a raid on a Gojidi colony went wrong. My older sister took care of me while maintaining the farm. When I grew old enough to handle the farm by myself, she left for the Betterment. After years, doing everything all by myself started to get a bit too much for me.
So today my sister came with a young arxur man in tow.
"He'll be your assistant." She said with an air of finality. My sister didn't even give her captive the dignity of a landing ramp. This assistant had to jump a meter from her airship. As soon as the lithe arxur touched the ground, my sister flew away.
"Are you alright?" I helped him stand. "How much did my sister explain?"
"That I have a second chance on your farm. That’s… pretty much it."
"She’s not wrong." I walked back to my farmhouse, the arxur had no choice but to follow me.
"When was your last kill?" I presume he’s not the kind who won't even slit a prey’s throat. As much as my sister tolerate my quirk, she would have disposed of any arxur who hesitate to take a life.
"More than a week ago. It was lunchtime and my squad mate challenged me to be the one who draw the first blood" He answered. "I can kill but..."
"But the screaming keeps you awake at sleep time, isn't it?"
"Yeah..."
I wondered how my sister found him, but that would be a story for later.
“On this farm, you will work hard. It won’t be a short burst of activities like hunting, you will toil all day long.”
“Yes sir.”
“You may call me Taksak, what’s your name?”
“Tresn, sir.”
We reached my farmhouse and from there kept going forward past it to the slaughterhouse. I stole a glance at him and noticed that he eyed the scabbard around my waist.
“You’re allowed to ask anything. Nothing will annoy or upset me at any point.”
“What’s that sword, sir?”
“That, you’ll see”.
We entered the farm’s staging pen where previously I had sequestered a handful of venlil for processing. The plump preys looked up at me with their glassy eye. These diminished prey animals stood on their four limbs and only understood words at the level of toddlers.
I suspect that my parents would see me eye to eye on the state of our civilization. After the news of their KIA, my sister did not disturb their room. But my inquisitive little self rummaged through their belonging and found several copies from before the Federation. Among many ancient documents, there was a book of prayer and a manual for farming.
From my satchel, I took a blindfold and wrapped them around the eyes of one of the pliable cattle. Tresn had been watching me work and tried to hold himself from asking the question again. But he finally couldn’t hold his curiosity any longer when he saw me lifting one of the cattle.
“What… are you doing to these cattle? Why are they standing on all four?”
“These are captive breeds. The first generation was raised without their parents so they don’t develop the fear their parents taught them.”
One of the cattle bumped its head against Tresn’s leg and sniffed him. The arxur seemed unnerved about it.
“Follow me.”
With Tresn trailing beside me I carried the heavy venlil into the slaughter room. I put its head on the base of the stock and brought the top part down, locking its head. The venlil panicked and thrashed, but it calmed down after I stroked its head.
I pulled my sword from its scabbard. My sister used to jeer at me for using a weapon to slaughter, but I reminded her that the sharp weapon can cleave through her as well as through cattle. Raising my sword, I began reciting.
"I recognize the sanctity of life and the weight of taking it. I will make sure your death is as swift and painless as possible and I will honor your life by using every part of you to the fullest." with their dim understanding of arxur language, these words were more for me than for them.
With all my might I brought down my sword in a swift motion. The edge of the sword made a sharp blunt sound as it struck the wooden block on the floor meant to stop it. The venlil’s head fell onto the grated floor and orange blood sputtered out of the stump.
I picked its head up and gently put them down on the preparation table. I read that a head might still retain consciousness for minutes after decapitation. Better for them to keep being blindfolded until their brain completely ceased functioning.
I looked at Tresn and an understanding began to dawn on him.
“The prayer… the sword… this is… the farming practice of our ancestors isn’t it?”
Clever boy.
“Back then, our ancestors would be doing this to non-sapient cattle. But we make do with what the universe has handed to us.”
“Did your parents start this?”
“Oh, they still slaughter with their claws.” My parents were like just like other farmers. They prefer goring their cattle with their own claws, making the subsequent processing less efficient. Sometimes, they even decided to take some snacks in between.
“Raising nearly mindless cattle started from my mother’s mother though. She was the original founder of this farm.”
"I assume… your sister knows that you’re dabbling in the way of the ancestors?”
“She tolerated it only because I provided flesh with the best quality.” Though, I suspect that my sister has that spark of compassion either. I have a theory that she joined Betterment precisely to cover for me.
“Now your turn. Bring me another cattle. It’s important that you blindfold them properly. They will panic if they see what happened here and everything will get messy.”
“Yes, Sir.”
I followed him outside and observed as he did the whole processing by himself, from blindfolding the cattle to putting them in the stock. I understand now why my sister picked Tresn. He was an unnaturally quick learner.
As he received my longsword, Tresn looked at the cattle and at me again. “Pardon me Sir, but I still have not memorized the prayer.”
“The prayer is not the point.” I said, “the prayer is there to remind me… to remind us that they die so we may live.”
He affirmed with a swish of his tail. The young arxur lifted my sword and brought it down on the second venlil.
“That was… fast.” He remarked.
“Cruelty does not make their flesh more nutritious. On the contrary, my cattle’s flesh has better quality exactly because I care for them.”
From the tool rack in the slaughterhouse, I took a pair of knives and cleavers. “Take this, you’ll now learn how to process them.”
Tresn further proved his worth as he followed my lead in processing the cattle. From the sterilized table, their blood flows into a receptacle. When coagulated, they can make for a tasty snack. As we carved the meat from the bone I spoke up again.
“I meant what I meant when I said we will use every part of them. Here you’ll learn how to make leather too.” I said as I made an incision to skin them.
“How about their bone?” Tresn asked.
“The bone itself will be grounded into bonemeal as fertilizer for the plants that the prey needed. You will learn how to grow those too.”
“We’re going to grow plants?” I detected a hint of distaste in his answer.
“Nutritious and tasty flesh comes from healthy cattle, and healthy cattle need more than just grass and leaves. Our ancestors understood this.”
“Farming is really more complex than I thought. Did our ancestors even hunt at all?”
“Of course they did, the desire for the hunt is what defined us. But for our ancestors, hunting was a spiritual need, not a base one. On their coming of age, a young arxur would hunt prey on their own.”
Prey that the Federation has annihilated.
As I began skinning the venlil I continued. “Our ancestors used to have holidays and festivals where people gather to hunt giant prey animals. Those hunts were a way for our ancestors to commune with their ancestors. After our day is over, I’ll give you the documents that my parents left me behind. You can read all about what our people used to be.”
I opened the blindfold from one of the decapitated heads. Their dead eyes seemingly looked at me with accusation. As I began sawing their skull to process the brain inside I thought about what the venlil would have become, had my ancestors not enslaved his ancestors.
“So much… wasted potential” I heard him muttering under his breath when he finally opened the skull.
“In a kinder universe, this brain will be responsible for great inventions and feat of intelligence. But here… it nourishes us.”
“They die so we may live.” He said in agreement.
Date [Standardized Human Reckoning]: 2136-07-12
On the day when the galaxy changed, I was working at my job.
Time goes so fast that it feels like my interview with the hospital director happened yesterday. I remembered she looked at me warily from one eye, while her other eye was reading my CV. I let her conclude an opinion, but I am an adult now. So unless I committed a crime, no one can force me into a correctional facility.
With a polymer apron and gloves on, I pushed the gurney into the Blackwater hospital’s morgue. I shuddered as the temperature dropped in a sudden. In the middle, two autopsy tables stood empty while to my left and right a matrix of drawers filled the walls. I turned on my visual overlay and the drawer that contained the body I am assigned to this shift glows orange. I adjusted the gurney to the drawer’s height before pulling it out.
Puffs of even colder air came out of the drawer when I opened it. To fight decomposition, the temperature has to be as cold as possible without freezing the body. I adjusted the gurney a bit so that the front part of the drawer slot into it. The drawer has a removable bottom, and it’s designed in such a way that I can transfer the body from the drawer to the table without actually lifting it. Inside the drawer, a white polymer sheet covered the body.
I had the habit of not reading the detailed report before seeing a corpse I am assigned to. I want to see how much I can guess what happened to the poor person, but… I also wanted to see if any dead body would be able to trigger an emotional reaction. So far, nothing. After transporting the corpse onto the table I carefully pulled the white sheets out to reveal the victim beneath.
There were no visible injuries on the man’s head and chest. In fact, he looked serene as if he was sleeping. It was not until I saw his body from the waist down that I could piece together what was happening. This poor guy definitely fell from a high place and got impaled vertically on a thick blunt object… like a bollard. I imagined how the emergency medical technician would deal with this in situ.
That was when I finally opened the case file. Just like I suspected, the victim was found in front of his apartment in the exact condition I mentioned. Signs so far pointed to an improbable but not impossible accident. I am here to make sure there was really no foul play
I made sure the camera attached to the table was turned on before I proceeded. I took the scalpel from the trolley beside the table and as I was about to make the incision, the hospital’s public announcement system blared out.
“Possible Orbital Bombardment, Please Go to Your Nearest shelter.”
The message, while calm, repeats indefinitely.
“Possible Orbital Bombardment, Please Go to Your Nearest shelter.”
I hastily covered the body again and turned on the autopsy table’s emergency cooling system. Since I do not have the time to put the body back into the drawer, this has to suffice.
As I hurried out of the morgue I wondered what was happening. Orbital bombardment implies an invasion, but by whom? The arxurs? We are placed far away from the Dominion volume. Even in the fastest scenario, we would have a couple of days to prepare. This level of emergency implies an immediate threat. The emergency light showed marking on the floor, guiding me on where to go.
I saw the first venlil after I turned right on the first junction I found. Upon seeing me, the nurse squealed and hurried up. I realized I was still wearing my necrologist apron and glove, I discarded them on the nearest biohazard receptacle I passed.
After walking for several minutes, the corridor leads to the emergency stairs shaft. The door has been propped open so that everyone can just pass through.
Other medical personnel and outpatients were still poured in in an orderly manner when I came in. Hospitals placed the in-patients deep underground, so we did not have to evacuate them. When I listened to the restless murmur around me, I thought about what happened once more. It is not impossible that the arxur deliberately moved around our volume and doubled back to attack us from the least unexpected direction. It sounds like a lot of effort, but the alternative that I can think of was less likely.
We might have another first contact with hostile aliens, which is why it was unanticipated and so sudden. But that surely can not happen… right? As I reached the sixth landing I felt silly for not considering the most obvious scenario.
Of course, this was just a drill.
Note: Tresn name does sound like "Treason", but that's not where I get his name.
2023.01.22 22:35 Amanda39 [Scheduled] The Woman in White, Walter Chapter VII to Walter Chapter II
Welcome back to The Woman in White, aka "Portrait of a Jackass on Fire."
This week we're reading Walter's Narrative Chapter VII to Walter's Narrative Chapter II. (This book does not lend itself well to coherent schedules. The last chapter begins with "It was between nine and ten o'clock..." and ends with "Like a shadow she passes away in the loneliness of the dead.") Please use spoiler tags for anything beyond that, as well as for any spoilers for other books.
Walter continues his discussion with Mrs. Clements, and learns about Anne's history, and the history of her mother. Mrs. Clements and her husband had been living in Welmingham about 23 years ago when a newlywed couple, the Cathericks, moved to the neighborhood. Mrs. Catherick was a lady's maid who had turned down Mr. Catherick's proposals in the past, but had suddenly decided that she did want to marry him after all--presumably to cover the fact that she was already pregnant.
Four months after they'd moved in, Mr. Catherick catches Sir Percival giving his wife expensive jewelry and lace handkerchiefs, and concludes that they're having an affair. He catches them whispering together in the vestry, Mr. Catherick hits Sir Percival, and Sir Percival kicks his ass, attracting the attention of neighbors, so now everyone knows what's going on. Mr. Catherick leaves Mrs. Catherick and moves to America (although they're still legally married.)
Sir Percival also takes off immediately after this but, surprisingly, Mrs. Catherick remains in Welmingham, despite everyone judging her for the scandal. Mrs. Catherick is determined to make everyone respect her. Her husband sends her money, but Mrs. Catherick is too proud to touch it. Instead, she lives on money from Sir Percival.
At this point, Walter thinks about what he's hearing and realizes that Mrs. Catherick, despite her claims, is probably staying in Welmingham because Sir Percival is making her stay there. If everyone there judges her, then that means she has no friends to tell the Secret to. Walter considers that the Secret may simply be that Sir Percival is Anne's father, since the date of Anne's birth makes it clear that she was conceived before the Cathericks married. Seems unlikely, since everyone in Welmingham already suspects him of that, but it's worth looking into. Mrs. Clements is able to tell him the name of the man Mrs. Catherick had worked for prior to marriage (Major Donthorne), so Walter can contact him and see if he knew Sir Percival.
(I am so, so stupid. This is my third time reading this book and I'm only now realizing that "Donthorne" is probably pronounced "Don thorn." I had been reading it all this time as "Don't horny." I was all set to make a joke about how Mrs. Catherick should have taken the Major's advice.)
Anyhow, this is the point in the story where, if Mr. Fairlie could see me, he'd probably complain about the secretions coming out of my eyes, because fuck is this part of the story sad. Mrs. Clements was basically Anne's adoptive mother. Mrs. Catherick gave her to Mrs. Clements to raise, and then would periodically change her mind, ripping the poor kid away from Mrs. Clements and probably giving her lifelong abandonment issues or something, only to get bored of her and give her back to Mrs. Clements. Finally when Anne was ten, Mrs. Clements's husband died, and Mrs. Catherick took Anne with her to Limmeridge, which of course is where she met Mrs. Fairlie. When they got back to Welmingham, Mrs. Clements was going to move to London, and Mrs. Catherick refused to let Anne go with her. That was the last Mrs. Clements saw of Anne until Anne ran away from the Asylum.
And now Walter can no longer hide it from Mrs. Clements. Anne is dead. After more than a decade, Mrs. Clements had finally been reunited with her little girl, only to lose her forever.
I may be bawling my eyes out, but Walter is stronger and he's here for a purpose. Mrs. Clements doesn't have what he wants--she doesn't know the Secret. In fact, she's pretty sure Anne never really knew the Secret in the first place. Walter's only option now is to visit Mrs. Catherick.
Walter goes home and finds that Laura is extremely depressed. She feels like she's a burden on Walter and Marian, and worries that Walter will like Marian more than he likes her because of that. (Walter politely refrains from replying "LOL have you seen Marian's face?") I want to make what happens next a discussion question, so I'll try to describe this without interjecting my own opinion: Walter tells Laura that her drawing has improved so much, it's now professional quality, so he's going to take her pictures to work with him and sell them. He'll bring the money that she earns back for her to hold onto separately from the money he earns, so she can see how much she's helping.
Of course, her drawings are actually crap, and he isn't really selling them, he's basically giving her an allowance. Walter still has the drawings hidden away to this day and still cherishes them. (He also manages to spoil that this story will have a happy ending, or at least that there will be happy times at some point.)
Walter goes to visit Mrs. Catherick, and Marian writes to Mr. Fairlie to make him write the narrative we read earlier, in case it reveals anything they can use against Fosco. Mrs. Catherick proves to be a hard, cold, emotionless woman who doesn't care that her daughter is dead, and isn't interested in assisting Walter with revenge against Sir Percival. However, she does accidentally give Walter a couple of clues: she laughs at the idea of Sir Percival being from a great family ("especially by the mother's side"), and briefly seems terrified when Walter mentions the vestry.
The only real sign that Mrs. Catherick has anything resembling human emotions is her obsessive pride in having earned the approval of the townspeople. They aren't scandalized by her anymore. She's spent the past 20+ years trying to become the most respectable person in town, and now she stands in front of her window all day, waiting for the clergyman to walk past, to see him bow to her, like a monkey in a Skinner box pressing a button for a peanut. It's depressing as hell. I almost feel sorry for her. Almost.
When Walter leaves Mrs. Catherick's house, he sees the guy who tried to pick a fight with him in Blackwater Park. The guy must have seen Walter go into Mrs. Catherick's house, and is now reporting to Sir Percival. Walter follows him to the train station without being seen.
Thanks to the two clues Mrs. Catherick accidentally gave him, Walter decides to go to the vestry and check out the record of Sir Percival's parents marriage, to find out who his mother was. The clerk has some difficulty letting him in: the vestry has two entrances, one from outside and one from inside the church, but the outside door is difficult to unlock, and the door that leads into the church can't be unlocked at all. The vestry is cluttered and dusty, filled with old papers and crates containing broken wooden decorations.
Walter searches through the registry and finds the marriage record. It looks a bit odd, crammed into the bottom margin of the page. He unintentionally makes note of the previous and next entries as well: they stand out because the husband in the previous entry has the same first name as Walter, and the next entry (on the next page) is twice the size of a normal one, since it was from a double wedding.
Walter talks to the clerk who let him into the vestry, and learns that, while this guy is a "parish clerk," there's also a "vestry clerk" who's basically a lawyer who oversees the marriage records. The current vestry clerk is the son of the man who was vestry clerk when Sir Percival's parents married. Walter decides to visit him. On his way, he gets "trapped" into fighting with two of Sir Percival's spies, and ends up in jail, awaiting trial for assaulting them. Fortunately, Walter is able to contact Mr. Dawson (the doctor who treated Marian's typhus, and who knows Walter from Walter's brief visit to Blackwater Park), who is able to pay his bail. It's clear to Walter that Sir Percival, not realizing that Walter would get bailed out, was trying to delay Walter's investigations. Sir Percival must be planning to do something very soon.
Walter goes to to the vestry clerk and learns something interesting: the clerk's father had kept a backup copy of the registry. When Walter looks at this copy, the marriage record isn't there! The bottom margin on that page is larger than normal because the record for the double wedding required a new page. Sir Percival's Secret is that he had forged his parents' marriage record so that he would be legitimate and inherit his father's estate and title. At the time that this story takes place (the 1850s), this crime would have been punishable by deportation to Australia, but at the time that the crime was commited (the 1820s) it would have been punishable by death.
Walter decides to return to the vestry, mistakenly thinking that if he makes a copy of the vestry's entry, it could be used as legal evidence. Along the way, he once again gets chased by Sir Percival's thugs. He escapes them by running through a field and almost gets lost, but somehow ends up at the home of the parish clerk, where he finds the clerk panic-stricken because the keys to the vestry have been stolen. Walter takes off running toward the vestry, and runs into another one of Sir Percival's lackeys, but this one mistakes him in the dark for Sir Percival. They arrive at the vestry to find it on fire. Sir Percival is inside, struggling to get out: the broken lock has completely jammed, trapping him in the flames. As far as Walter can determine, Sir Percival must have stolen the keys with the intention of tearing the page out of the register, but he'd lit a match to see what he was doing.
It turns out that locking yourself in a cluttered room filled with paper and dry wood and then lighting a match is a stupid, stupid thing to do. It also turns out that Sir Percival does not like being locked up against his will. I suspect Anne and Laura would have appreciated the irony.
A fire engine is on its way, but won't be in time to rescue Sir Percival. Walter organizes a group of men to turn a beam from an abandoned cottage into a battering ram, and even climbs onto the roof to break the skylight, but, alas, his heroics are in vain. Oh well.
Walter is now stuck in town for the inquest, and for his own trial, which gets dismissed when his accusers don't bother to show up. (Walter also notes during this time that, despite the brief time since the fire, "rude caricatures" have already been drawn on the remains of the vestry. I just want to take a moment to appreciate the fact that human beings have not changed in the slightest in the past 170 years, and also that Sir Percival's place of death is probably now marked by a badly-drawn penis.)
Forgive the pun, but it's been a pyrrhic victory. Laura is now free of Sir Percival, and we've learned the Secret, but any hope of using Sir Percival to establish Laura's true identity is now gone forever. Walter must now return home, where he and Marian will try to figure out what to do next...
...except first, Walter gets a letter from Mrs. Catherick, of all people. It goes something like this:
Dear Walter,
Heard you set Sir Percival on fire. That's awesome. If I were younger, I would hump your brains out. In lieu of humping, why don't you come to tea? I can tell you about all the ableist slurs I used to call my dead daughter. Humping is also acceptable if you're into old ladies like u/escherwallace is. We absolutely must have tea punctually. Casual sex schedule is more loosey goosey.
("We absolutely must have tea punctually. Casual sex schedule is more loosey goosey." was shamelessly stolen from u/DernhelmLaughed. Uh, to be clear, we were discussing Mrs. Catherick's letter. u/DernhelmLaughed did not invite me to tea and casual sex.)
In all seriousness, the letter does open with Mrs. Catherick saying she'd have made out with Walter if she were twenty years younger, which is freaking bizarre, considering how obsessed she is with being seen as respectable. She then reveals the missing details about the Secret:
Mrs. Catherick's husband was the parish clerk, and Sir Percival bribed her with a gold watch and other presents to get the vestry key. He snuck into the vestry several times, in order to study the records and make sure his forgery would look believable. Mrs. Catherick figured out what he was doing, but played along for the bribes, not realizing that she was making herself an accomplice to a capital offense.
Of course, all the stuff we heard from Mrs. Clements then happened. (Note to aspiring writers: don't give two characters who are this closely connected similar names. Mrs. Clements and Mrs. Catherick are way too easy to get mixed up.) Mrs. Catherick then threatened to expose the Secret, which is when she learned that doing so would condemn herself as well as Sir Percival.
Fast forward a decade to Mrs. Catherick and Anne returning from Limmeridge. We learn the real reason Mrs. Catherick didn't let Mrs. Clements take Anne with her to London: Mrs. Clements had sided with Anne when Mrs. Catherick tried to make her stop wearing white, and Mrs. Catherick just wanted to spite her. The irony is that after Mrs. Clements moved, Mrs. Catherick changed her mind about Anne wearing white. She realized that it made people pity Anne, which in turn made them more sympathetic to Mrs. Catherick.
Fast forward another decade or so. Mrs. Catherick is angry because she just got a letter from Sir Percival, refusing to let her leave town, and she mutters something to herself about how she could destroy him by exposing his Secret. She realizes right after she says this that Anne is listening, and now she's terrified that Anne will repeat what she's just heard. Her fears are realized the next day, when Sir Percival visits and tells her to "turn the idiot out."
I mentioned something about this in the first discussion summary, but I need to emphasize it now. Idiot was not just an insult back then. It was also a functioning label for the most severe form of intellectual disability. In modern terms, what Sir Percival actually said was "Get the retard out of here."
Anne fought back the only way she could. She threatened to expose the Secret unless Sir Percival apologized to her. That's all she wanted, just to be treated with respect for once. But Sir Percival thought she was going to expose his Secret, so he had her committed, to hide her away so she couldn't tell the Secret to anyone. And Mrs. Catherick "did her duty as a mother" by insisting on a private asylum, which, as I also explained in a previous discussion, were more prestigious but also significantly worse in terms of how they treated the patients.
(Mrs. Catherick says that she cannot repeat Sir Percival's language, because she's "a member of the rector's congregation." The only thing I'm a member of is Reddit, so there's nothing stopping me from saying fuck Sir Percival, fuck Mrs. Catherick, and fuck the ableist horse they rode in on.)
At this point, Mrs. Catherick confirms what Mrs. Clements and Walter had already suspected: Anne never actually knew the Secret. The idea that she could ruin Sir Percival by exposing his Secret had developed into a delusion, where she genuinely believed that she did know the Secret, but she never actually knew it.
Moving on... after reading Mrs. Catherick's letter, Walter gets a letter from Marian informing him that she and Laura had to move. Uh-oh, looks like something must be happening with Fosco. On the way home, Walter thinks about how he'll never expose Sir Percival's secret. The cousin who should have received the inheritance will get what's left of it now that Sir Percival is dead. The only thing that would happen if the Secret were exposed is that it would associate Laura with scandal. And that's why Walter is using fake names in this book... wait, what? Oh yeah, all of the names in this book are fake. Not that it matters, since this is really a fictional novel anyway, but still, that's a bit weird to think about. Walter actually chose to name himself "Walter Hartright." Jesus Christ.
Anyhow, it turns out Fosco found where they were staying, and that's why they had to move. Fosco said some gross stuff that Marian won't repeat to Walter, but he also said that he prevented the Asylum owner from finding the house and recapturing Laura...
...except Marian now realizes that that doesn't matter, because Sir Percival is dead and the Asylum doesn't care about "Anne Catherick" if no one is paying for her. Anyhow, they moved, and hopefully Fosco won't find the new location. But the important thing is that defeating Fosco is now their only hope at proving Laura's identity.
One last thing: Walter hears back from Major Donthorne. He'd never been visited by Sir Percival when Mrs. Catherick worked for him. But you know who did visit him?
Philip Fairlie. Laura's father. You know, Laura, the girl who looks exactly like Anne. Yeah. That explains a lot.
I'll end this summary with Walter's words:
So the ghostly figure which has haunted these pages, as it haunted my life, goes down into the impenetrable gloom. Like a shadow she first came to me in the loneliness of the night. Like a shadow she passes away in the loneliness of the dead.
submitted by Amanda39 to bookclub [link] [comments]
This week we're reading Walter's Narrative Chapter VII to Walter's Narrative Chapter II. (This book does not lend itself well to coherent schedules. The last chapter begins with "It was between nine and ten o'clock..." and ends with "Like a shadow she passes away in the loneliness of the dead.") Please use spoiler tags for anything beyond that, as well as for any spoilers for other books.
Walter continues his discussion with Mrs. Clements, and learns about Anne's history, and the history of her mother. Mrs. Clements and her husband had been living in Welmingham about 23 years ago when a newlywed couple, the Cathericks, moved to the neighborhood. Mrs. Catherick was a lady's maid who had turned down Mr. Catherick's proposals in the past, but had suddenly decided that she did want to marry him after all--presumably to cover the fact that she was already pregnant.
Four months after they'd moved in, Mr. Catherick catches Sir Percival giving his wife expensive jewelry and lace handkerchiefs, and concludes that they're having an affair. He catches them whispering together in the vestry, Mr. Catherick hits Sir Percival, and Sir Percival kicks his ass, attracting the attention of neighbors, so now everyone knows what's going on. Mr. Catherick leaves Mrs. Catherick and moves to America (although they're still legally married.)
Sir Percival also takes off immediately after this but, surprisingly, Mrs. Catherick remains in Welmingham, despite everyone judging her for the scandal. Mrs. Catherick is determined to make everyone respect her. Her husband sends her money, but Mrs. Catherick is too proud to touch it. Instead, she lives on money from Sir Percival.
At this point, Walter thinks about what he's hearing and realizes that Mrs. Catherick, despite her claims, is probably staying in Welmingham because Sir Percival is making her stay there. If everyone there judges her, then that means she has no friends to tell the Secret to. Walter considers that the Secret may simply be that Sir Percival is Anne's father, since the date of Anne's birth makes it clear that she was conceived before the Cathericks married. Seems unlikely, since everyone in Welmingham already suspects him of that, but it's worth looking into. Mrs. Clements is able to tell him the name of the man Mrs. Catherick had worked for prior to marriage (Major Donthorne), so Walter can contact him and see if he knew Sir Percival.
(I am so, so stupid. This is my third time reading this book and I'm only now realizing that "Donthorne" is probably pronounced "Don thorn." I had been reading it all this time as "Don't horny." I was all set to make a joke about how Mrs. Catherick should have taken the Major's advice.)
Anyhow, this is the point in the story where, if Mr. Fairlie could see me, he'd probably complain about the secretions coming out of my eyes, because fuck is this part of the story sad. Mrs. Clements was basically Anne's adoptive mother. Mrs. Catherick gave her to Mrs. Clements to raise, and then would periodically change her mind, ripping the poor kid away from Mrs. Clements and probably giving her lifelong abandonment issues or something, only to get bored of her and give her back to Mrs. Clements. Finally when Anne was ten, Mrs. Clements's husband died, and Mrs. Catherick took Anne with her to Limmeridge, which of course is where she met Mrs. Fairlie. When they got back to Welmingham, Mrs. Clements was going to move to London, and Mrs. Catherick refused to let Anne go with her. That was the last Mrs. Clements saw of Anne until Anne ran away from the Asylum.
And now Walter can no longer hide it from Mrs. Clements. Anne is dead. After more than a decade, Mrs. Clements had finally been reunited with her little girl, only to lose her forever.
I may be bawling my eyes out, but Walter is stronger and he's here for a purpose. Mrs. Clements doesn't have what he wants--she doesn't know the Secret. In fact, she's pretty sure Anne never really knew the Secret in the first place. Walter's only option now is to visit Mrs. Catherick.
Walter goes home and finds that Laura is extremely depressed. She feels like she's a burden on Walter and Marian, and worries that Walter will like Marian more than he likes her because of that. (Walter politely refrains from replying "LOL have you seen Marian's face?") I want to make what happens next a discussion question, so I'll try to describe this without interjecting my own opinion: Walter tells Laura that her drawing has improved so much, it's now professional quality, so he's going to take her pictures to work with him and sell them. He'll bring the money that she earns back for her to hold onto separately from the money he earns, so she can see how much she's helping.
Of course, her drawings are actually crap, and he isn't really selling them, he's basically giving her an allowance. Walter still has the drawings hidden away to this day and still cherishes them. (He also manages to spoil that this story will have a happy ending, or at least that there will be happy times at some point.)
Walter goes to visit Mrs. Catherick, and Marian writes to Mr. Fairlie to make him write the narrative we read earlier, in case it reveals anything they can use against Fosco. Mrs. Catherick proves to be a hard, cold, emotionless woman who doesn't care that her daughter is dead, and isn't interested in assisting Walter with revenge against Sir Percival. However, she does accidentally give Walter a couple of clues: she laughs at the idea of Sir Percival being from a great family ("especially by the mother's side"), and briefly seems terrified when Walter mentions the vestry.
The only real sign that Mrs. Catherick has anything resembling human emotions is her obsessive pride in having earned the approval of the townspeople. They aren't scandalized by her anymore. She's spent the past 20+ years trying to become the most respectable person in town, and now she stands in front of her window all day, waiting for the clergyman to walk past, to see him bow to her, like a monkey in a Skinner box pressing a button for a peanut. It's depressing as hell. I almost feel sorry for her. Almost.
When Walter leaves Mrs. Catherick's house, he sees the guy who tried to pick a fight with him in Blackwater Park. The guy must have seen Walter go into Mrs. Catherick's house, and is now reporting to Sir Percival. Walter follows him to the train station without being seen.
Thanks to the two clues Mrs. Catherick accidentally gave him, Walter decides to go to the vestry and check out the record of Sir Percival's parents marriage, to find out who his mother was. The clerk has some difficulty letting him in: the vestry has two entrances, one from outside and one from inside the church, but the outside door is difficult to unlock, and the door that leads into the church can't be unlocked at all. The vestry is cluttered and dusty, filled with old papers and crates containing broken wooden decorations.
Walter searches through the registry and finds the marriage record. It looks a bit odd, crammed into the bottom margin of the page. He unintentionally makes note of the previous and next entries as well: they stand out because the husband in the previous entry has the same first name as Walter, and the next entry (on the next page) is twice the size of a normal one, since it was from a double wedding.
Walter talks to the clerk who let him into the vestry, and learns that, while this guy is a "parish clerk," there's also a "vestry clerk" who's basically a lawyer who oversees the marriage records. The current vestry clerk is the son of the man who was vestry clerk when Sir Percival's parents married. Walter decides to visit him. On his way, he gets "trapped" into fighting with two of Sir Percival's spies, and ends up in jail, awaiting trial for assaulting them. Fortunately, Walter is able to contact Mr. Dawson (the doctor who treated Marian's typhus, and who knows Walter from Walter's brief visit to Blackwater Park), who is able to pay his bail. It's clear to Walter that Sir Percival, not realizing that Walter would get bailed out, was trying to delay Walter's investigations. Sir Percival must be planning to do something very soon.
Walter goes to to the vestry clerk and learns something interesting: the clerk's father had kept a backup copy of the registry. When Walter looks at this copy, the marriage record isn't there! The bottom margin on that page is larger than normal because the record for the double wedding required a new page. Sir Percival's Secret is that he had forged his parents' marriage record so that he would be legitimate and inherit his father's estate and title. At the time that this story takes place (the 1850s), this crime would have been punishable by deportation to Australia, but at the time that the crime was commited (the 1820s) it would have been punishable by death.
Walter decides to return to the vestry, mistakenly thinking that if he makes a copy of the vestry's entry, it could be used as legal evidence. Along the way, he once again gets chased by Sir Percival's thugs. He escapes them by running through a field and almost gets lost, but somehow ends up at the home of the parish clerk, where he finds the clerk panic-stricken because the keys to the vestry have been stolen. Walter takes off running toward the vestry, and runs into another one of Sir Percival's lackeys, but this one mistakes him in the dark for Sir Percival. They arrive at the vestry to find it on fire. Sir Percival is inside, struggling to get out: the broken lock has completely jammed, trapping him in the flames. As far as Walter can determine, Sir Percival must have stolen the keys with the intention of tearing the page out of the register, but he'd lit a match to see what he was doing.
It turns out that locking yourself in a cluttered room filled with paper and dry wood and then lighting a match is a stupid, stupid thing to do. It also turns out that Sir Percival does not like being locked up against his will. I suspect Anne and Laura would have appreciated the irony.
A fire engine is on its way, but won't be in time to rescue Sir Percival. Walter organizes a group of men to turn a beam from an abandoned cottage into a battering ram, and even climbs onto the roof to break the skylight, but, alas, his heroics are in vain. Oh well.
Walter is now stuck in town for the inquest, and for his own trial, which gets dismissed when his accusers don't bother to show up. (Walter also notes during this time that, despite the brief time since the fire, "rude caricatures" have already been drawn on the remains of the vestry. I just want to take a moment to appreciate the fact that human beings have not changed in the slightest in the past 170 years, and also that Sir Percival's place of death is probably now marked by a badly-drawn penis.)
Forgive the pun, but it's been a pyrrhic victory. Laura is now free of Sir Percival, and we've learned the Secret, but any hope of using Sir Percival to establish Laura's true identity is now gone forever. Walter must now return home, where he and Marian will try to figure out what to do next...
...except first, Walter gets a letter from Mrs. Catherick, of all people. It goes something like this:
Dear Walter,
Heard you set Sir Percival on fire. That's awesome. If I were younger, I would hump your brains out. In lieu of humping, why don't you come to tea? I can tell you about all the ableist slurs I used to call my dead daughter. Humping is also acceptable if you're into old ladies like u/escherwallace is. We absolutely must have tea punctually. Casual sex schedule is more loosey goosey.
("We absolutely must have tea punctually. Casual sex schedule is more loosey goosey." was shamelessly stolen from u/DernhelmLaughed. Uh, to be clear, we were discussing Mrs. Catherick's letter. u/DernhelmLaughed did not invite me to tea and casual sex.)
In all seriousness, the letter does open with Mrs. Catherick saying she'd have made out with Walter if she were twenty years younger, which is freaking bizarre, considering how obsessed she is with being seen as respectable. She then reveals the missing details about the Secret:
Mrs. Catherick's husband was the parish clerk, and Sir Percival bribed her with a gold watch and other presents to get the vestry key. He snuck into the vestry several times, in order to study the records and make sure his forgery would look believable. Mrs. Catherick figured out what he was doing, but played along for the bribes, not realizing that she was making herself an accomplice to a capital offense.
Of course, all the stuff we heard from Mrs. Clements then happened. (Note to aspiring writers: don't give two characters who are this closely connected similar names. Mrs. Clements and Mrs. Catherick are way too easy to get mixed up.) Mrs. Catherick then threatened to expose the Secret, which is when she learned that doing so would condemn herself as well as Sir Percival.
Fast forward a decade to Mrs. Catherick and Anne returning from Limmeridge. We learn the real reason Mrs. Catherick didn't let Mrs. Clements take Anne with her to London: Mrs. Clements had sided with Anne when Mrs. Catherick tried to make her stop wearing white, and Mrs. Catherick just wanted to spite her. The irony is that after Mrs. Clements moved, Mrs. Catherick changed her mind about Anne wearing white. She realized that it made people pity Anne, which in turn made them more sympathetic to Mrs. Catherick.
Fast forward another decade or so. Mrs. Catherick is angry because she just got a letter from Sir Percival, refusing to let her leave town, and she mutters something to herself about how she could destroy him by exposing his Secret. She realizes right after she says this that Anne is listening, and now she's terrified that Anne will repeat what she's just heard. Her fears are realized the next day, when Sir Percival visits and tells her to "turn the idiot out."
I mentioned something about this in the first discussion summary, but I need to emphasize it now. Idiot was not just an insult back then. It was also a functioning label for the most severe form of intellectual disability. In modern terms, what Sir Percival actually said was "Get the retard out of here."
Anne fought back the only way she could. She threatened to expose the Secret unless Sir Percival apologized to her. That's all she wanted, just to be treated with respect for once. But Sir Percival thought she was going to expose his Secret, so he had her committed, to hide her away so she couldn't tell the Secret to anyone. And Mrs. Catherick "did her duty as a mother" by insisting on a private asylum, which, as I also explained in a previous discussion, were more prestigious but also significantly worse in terms of how they treated the patients.
(Mrs. Catherick says that she cannot repeat Sir Percival's language, because she's "a member of the rector's congregation." The only thing I'm a member of is Reddit, so there's nothing stopping me from saying fuck Sir Percival, fuck Mrs. Catherick, and fuck the ableist horse they rode in on.)
At this point, Mrs. Catherick confirms what Mrs. Clements and Walter had already suspected: Anne never actually knew the Secret. The idea that she could ruin Sir Percival by exposing his Secret had developed into a delusion, where she genuinely believed that she did know the Secret, but she never actually knew it.
Moving on... after reading Mrs. Catherick's letter, Walter gets a letter from Marian informing him that she and Laura had to move. Uh-oh, looks like something must be happening with Fosco. On the way home, Walter thinks about how he'll never expose Sir Percival's secret. The cousin who should have received the inheritance will get what's left of it now that Sir Percival is dead. The only thing that would happen if the Secret were exposed is that it would associate Laura with scandal. And that's why Walter is using fake names in this book... wait, what? Oh yeah, all of the names in this book are fake. Not that it matters, since this is really a fictional novel anyway, but still, that's a bit weird to think about. Walter actually chose to name himself "Walter Hartright." Jesus Christ.
Anyhow, it turns out Fosco found where they were staying, and that's why they had to move. Fosco said some gross stuff that Marian won't repeat to Walter, but he also said that he prevented the Asylum owner from finding the house and recapturing Laura...
...except Marian now realizes that that doesn't matter, because Sir Percival is dead and the Asylum doesn't care about "Anne Catherick" if no one is paying for her. Anyhow, they moved, and hopefully Fosco won't find the new location. But the important thing is that defeating Fosco is now their only hope at proving Laura's identity.
One last thing: Walter hears back from Major Donthorne. He'd never been visited by Sir Percival when Mrs. Catherick worked for him. But you know who did visit him?
Philip Fairlie. Laura's father. You know, Laura, the girl who looks exactly like Anne. Yeah. That explains a lot.
I'll end this summary with Walter's words:
So the ghostly figure which has haunted these pages, as it haunted my life, goes down into the impenetrable gloom. Like a shadow she first came to me in the loneliness of the night. Like a shadow she passes away in the loneliness of the dead.
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2023.01.15 19:50 Amanda39 [Scheduled] The Woman in White, Third Epoch chapters I - VI
Welcome back to The Woman in White. I hope this week's section didn't make your head explode.
This week we're reading the first six chapters of the Third Epoch. Please use spoiler tags for anything beyond that, as well as for any spoilers for other books.
I'm going to do something a little different this week. Normally, I try to stick as close as possible to the order that events are portrayed in the book. However, this week's section is full of Walter getting the story second-hand, resulting in events being revealed out of order. While this makes the story more interesting, it also makes it harder to follow, and since the point of this summary is to refresh your memory about everything that happened, I've decided to reorder the story so that the events are now in roughly chronological order.
To do this, we must go all the way back to the day that Anne and Mrs. Clements left Limmeridge. We hear this part of the story from Mrs. Clements.
Mrs. Clements and Anne initially moved to London, but then relocated to Grimsby (the hometown of Mrs. Clements's late husband) due to Anne's fear that Sir Percival would find her in London. After they had moved to Grimsby, Anne saw Laura and Sir Percival's marriage announcement in the newspaper and the shock made her severely ill. A doctor diagnosed her with a life-threatening heart condition, and she spent the next six months (roughly the length of Laura's honeymoon) very weak and suffering frequent relapses.
Anne decided that she needed to speak to Laura. She didn't explain why to Mrs. Clements, but we know from previous chapters that Anne believed she was dying, and that she needed to tell the Secret to Laura in order to atone for not preventing the marriage. Mrs. Clements tried to talk her out of it, realizing how dangerous this would be, but Anne told her she'd run away to Laura by herself if Mrs. Clements wasn't going with her. Realizing she was no match for Anne's determination, and not wanting to create further stress that would exacerbate Anne's illness, Mrs. Clements agreed to the plan.
Anne and Mrs. Clements stayed in a village more than three miles from Blackwater Park. Anne walked this distance and back again each time she tried to speak to Laura. (Unbeknownst to Anne, Mrs. Clements followed at a distance each time.) This led to Anne having another relapse. At this point, Mrs. Clements herself tried getting in contact with Laura, thinking she could bring Laura to Anne, but instead she ran into Cunt Fosco. (That was a typo, but I'm not going to bother fixing it.) Fosco claimed to be waiting for Anne so he could deliver a message from Laura: Laura allegedly wants Anne to return to London to avoid being caught by Sir Percival, and Laura will meet Anne in London if Anne sends her her address.
Mrs. Clements (who trusted Fosco because she assumed he was a friend of Laura's) explained to Fosco that Anne couldn't travel at the moment because she was bedridden. This prompted Fosco to offer to examine her and provide medical advice, so Mrs. Clements brought him back to the cottage with her. When Fosco saw Anne (who was asleep), he was visibly startled--Mrs. Clements assumed that he was shocked at how sick Anne was, but I think we can safely assume that he was actually shocked at how much she resembled Laura.
Fosco wrote a prescription of stimulants for Anne so she'd have the strength to travel to London. On the train, Mrs. Clements noticed that they were being followed by an elderly woman (presumably Madame Fosco). A couple of weeks later, Madame Fosco appeared again, saying she'd been sent by Laura, and asked Mrs. Clements to go with her in a cab to discuss arranging for Laura and Anne to meet. Mrs. Clements did so, but then Madame Fosco got out of the cab and disappeared. When Mrs. Clements returned to her lodgings, she found that Anne was gone. The next day, she asked for Anne at the Asylum, but Anne wasn't there.
We can assume that Fosco kidnapped Anne, introduced her to his household as Lady Glyde, and then she died. (Walter himself concludes this in the beginning of Chapter III.) But if Anne was the fake Laura, what happened to the real Laura?
For reasons that will become clear soon, Laura's recollection of everything that happened once she left Blackwater Park is distorted and may contain errors. But this is how she recalls it:
Laura arrived in London and was greeted by Fosco, who took her to a house (not his house in St. John's Wood), where she was interviewed by two strange men. (The original readers probably would have gotten the reference: in order to be committed to an insane asylum, the patient had to be declared insane by two doctors.) She started to feel faint and was given a glass of water which tasted strange (clearly drugged), and from this point on her story gets weird and unreliable. She claims to have gone to Mrs. Vesey's, had tea with her and spent the night, and Mrs. Rubelle was there. She thinks she went somewhere with Fosco the next day.
Her next clear memory was of being in the Asylum. A nurse was helping her undress and calling her "Anne Catherick." When Laura insisted that she wasn't Anne Catherick, the nurse said the absolute last thing Laura wanted to hear: "Well, if you aren't Anne Catherick, then why are you wearing her underwear?" (Clothing was marked with people's names so it didn't get mixed up in the laundry. I know of not one but two other Wilkie Collins novels where this is mentioned, so I can only assume that he thought it was funny that everyone was walking around in personalized underwear.)
Meanwhile, back at Blackwater Park, Marian was informed of Laura's "death." Thankfully, the narrative spares us from having to read a description of the shock and grief she must have experienced, informing us only that it was three weeks before she was able to leave Blackwater Park. Once she was able to, Marian went to London to discuss her suspicions regarding Laura's death with Mr. Kyrle. He responded to this by interviewing Fosco, the doctor, and the servants, and determining that Marian was just being hysterical due to grief.
Marian went to Limmeridge, where she read a letter that Count Fosco wrote to Mr. Fairlie. In this letter, Fosco warned him that Anne Catherick had been caught and sent to the Asylum, but she's been claiming to be Laura in an attempt to harass Sir Percival, so Mr. Fairlie should disregard any communication he might receive from someone who says they're Laura.
Marian became sick again and was stuck at Limmeridge for a month. Her suspicions of Fosco continued, so she had his house watched, but nothing of interest was observed. She was also unable to find anything suspicious about Mrs. Rubelle or Sir Percival (who was in France at the time.)
Finally, Marian decided to visit Anne Catherick in the Asylum. Marian had never met Anne before, but she wanted to find out what the real story was behind Anne's supposed delusion of being Laura. The asylum owner agreed to let her see Anne, and mentioned that the delusion was really having a noticeable effect on her mannerisms and behavior, to the point where even her height, hair color, etc. seemed to be slightly altered. (Here's a fun experiment we can try: I'm pretty sure reading that gave me brain damage, so let's see if I transform into a tall, thin blonde!) I can only assume this guy worked his way up to the position of proprietor, starting as a patient.
Marian was led out to the grounds by a nurse, where "Anne" was going for a walk, supervised by an attendant to avoid an encore of her previous escape (which, as I said last week, I'm pretty sure consisted simply of going for a walk and not bothering to come back). HOLY SHIT, IT'S LAURA. There was a tearful reunion, and Marian ended up using more than half her life savings to bribe the nurse into letting Laura escape. She also gave the nurse instructions to tell everyone she'd overheard "Anne" asking for directions to Blackwater Park, so they'd all look for her in the opposite direction of Limmeridge.
The trip to Limmeridge ended badly. Mr. Fairlie refused to recognize Laura, and was convinced that Marian had been duped by Anne Catherick. The servants didn't recognize her, either. The only servant who might have stood a chance of recognizing her, Fanny, was away, and Marian didn't want to risk recapture by waiting for her return. (I'm glad to hear that Fanny still has her job, and has not been discharged... I'm so sorry, I'll try to behave from now on.) They decided to return to London, but first Laura wanted to see the grave, and this is where she saw Walter.
We're finally caught up to where last week left off. (Oh thank God, I can finally go back to writing in present tense.)
The situation looks hopeless. Even Walter's mother and sister, who have never met Laura, believe that Walter and Marian have been tricked by Anne Catherick into thinking that Laura's alive. Laura herself isn't much help because the trauma of spending nearly three months in the Asylum has left her with memory problems (although she still recognizes Walter and Marian).
The three of them decide that hiding in plain sight is the best way to avoid Sir Percival and Count Fosco. They rent rooms above a news shop in a poor neighborhood, under a fake name, pretending to be siblings. Walter gets work illustrating periodicals. Marian does all the housework, so they don't have to hire a servant. Walter and Marian gently take care of Laura, taking her for walks and playing children's card games with her. Walter buys her a sketchbook, although her drawing is now "faltering" and "feeble."
Walter and Marian decide that the best way to prove Laura's identity is to obtain testimonies from as many people involved in the case as possible. They have Marian's diary, so that's a start. Mrs. Vesey claims that Laura was never at her house. (Walter doesn't tell her why he's asking.) Walter and Marian obtain narratives from Mrs. Michelson, Hester Pinhorn, the doctor who examined "Lady Glyde," and the woman who prepared the body.
Walter goes to Mr. Kyrle, and doesn't realize until he's already at the office that Count Fosco and Sir Percival are probably having the place watched. Oops. He tells Mr. Kyrle everything that happened, and of course Mr. Kyrle thinks he's delusional. He also points out that even if Walter is telling the truth, no jury will believe him because this whole thing sounds like the plot of a Wilkie Collins novel. (uh, he doesn't say that last part.)
Mr Kyrle does note, however, that there is one thing that might give Walter a chance to prove Laura's identity. We know the date that "Lady Glyde" died. We don't know the date that Laura left Blackwater Park. If it can be proven that Laura was seen alive after she supposedly died, then they'll have a case.
This would be wonderful news if we hadn't already proven that no one knows when Laura left Blackwater Park. Mrs. Michelson doesn't remember the date, Mrs. Vesey has the letter from Laura but there's no date on it, and Laura herself can't remember anything clearly. It seems like the only people who can provide the necessary information are Sir Percival and Count Fosco themselves, and of course they aren't going to confess to anything...
...unless Walter makes them, because he's a big strong manly man who's going to rescue the damsel in distress and save the day, and also he's the one writing this narrative so of course he's going to make himself sound like a hero.
Walter leaves Mr. Kyrle's office (he also learns from Mr. Kyrle that Sir Percival is back in town), and ends up being followed by two men, one of whom he recognizes as one of the guys that Sir Percival had following him before he left for Honduras. Walter of course has to inform the reader that the only reason he didn't beat them up then and there is that getting thrown in jail would have hurt Laura's case, because Walter is a big strong manly man and I'm sure he can take two guys in a fight. Instead, he takes a detour to mislead them.
When Walter gets home, he gives Marian a letter that had been sent to her at Mr. Kyrle's office. Oh crap, it's from Fosco. He's an enormous creep, and condescendingly tells Marian that she and Laura should continue hiding and not try to reclaim Laura's identity. Oh, and tell Walter to stay in Honduras, because if he comes back to England, Fosco's going to kill him. Great.
Walter decides to go back to Hampshire (where Blackwater Park is), to see if he can find any clues. His efforts there prove useless, and he has a run-in with a man whom he's pretty sure was hired by Sir Percival to try to provoke Walter into fighting him so Walter would get arrested. Walter returns home, protecting himself with a super special defensive technique that he learned in Central America, which consists of occasionally looking over his shoulder when he's walking down the street. I learned a similar technique living in New Jersey, Walter. You aren't special.
Walter realizes that the most effective way to attack Sir Percival would be to learn his secret. With Anne dead, the only option is to speak to Mrs. Catherick, and so Walter tracks down Mrs. Clements (by asking her relatives at Todd's Corner if they know where she is) to find the best way to do that. Incidentally, we also learn the following about Sir Percival:
Sir Percival's father had been reclusive due to a birth defect. He and his wife had spent almost their entire marriage living in Europe, where Sir Percival was born. It wasn't until after his parents' deaths that Sir Percival, as an adult, finally moved to England. This is when he became friends with Laura's father.
Anyhow, Walter meets with Mrs. Clements, which is where we get the information in the beginning of this summary about what happened to Anne. He doesn't tell her that Anne is dead, but that he is trying to find the people responsible for her disappearance. We end this week's section with Mrs. Clements finishing her story.
We only have two weeks left, so let me close with Walter's words: The End is appointed—the End is drawing us on—and Anne Catherick, dead in her grave, points the way to it still!
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This week we're reading the first six chapters of the Third Epoch. Please use spoiler tags for anything beyond that, as well as for any spoilers for other books.
I'm going to do something a little different this week. Normally, I try to stick as close as possible to the order that events are portrayed in the book. However, this week's section is full of Walter getting the story second-hand, resulting in events being revealed out of order. While this makes the story more interesting, it also makes it harder to follow, and since the point of this summary is to refresh your memory about everything that happened, I've decided to reorder the story so that the events are now in roughly chronological order.
To do this, we must go all the way back to the day that Anne and Mrs. Clements left Limmeridge. We hear this part of the story from Mrs. Clements.
Mrs. Clements and Anne initially moved to London, but then relocated to Grimsby (the hometown of Mrs. Clements's late husband) due to Anne's fear that Sir Percival would find her in London. After they had moved to Grimsby, Anne saw Laura and Sir Percival's marriage announcement in the newspaper and the shock made her severely ill. A doctor diagnosed her with a life-threatening heart condition, and she spent the next six months (roughly the length of Laura's honeymoon) very weak and suffering frequent relapses.
Anne decided that she needed to speak to Laura. She didn't explain why to Mrs. Clements, but we know from previous chapters that Anne believed she was dying, and that she needed to tell the Secret to Laura in order to atone for not preventing the marriage. Mrs. Clements tried to talk her out of it, realizing how dangerous this would be, but Anne told her she'd run away to Laura by herself if Mrs. Clements wasn't going with her. Realizing she was no match for Anne's determination, and not wanting to create further stress that would exacerbate Anne's illness, Mrs. Clements agreed to the plan.
Anne and Mrs. Clements stayed in a village more than three miles from Blackwater Park. Anne walked this distance and back again each time she tried to speak to Laura. (Unbeknownst to Anne, Mrs. Clements followed at a distance each time.) This led to Anne having another relapse. At this point, Mrs. Clements herself tried getting in contact with Laura, thinking she could bring Laura to Anne, but instead she ran into Cunt Fosco. (That was a typo, but I'm not going to bother fixing it.) Fosco claimed to be waiting for Anne so he could deliver a message from Laura: Laura allegedly wants Anne to return to London to avoid being caught by Sir Percival, and Laura will meet Anne in London if Anne sends her her address.
Mrs. Clements (who trusted Fosco because she assumed he was a friend of Laura's) explained to Fosco that Anne couldn't travel at the moment because she was bedridden. This prompted Fosco to offer to examine her and provide medical advice, so Mrs. Clements brought him back to the cottage with her. When Fosco saw Anne (who was asleep), he was visibly startled--Mrs. Clements assumed that he was shocked at how sick Anne was, but I think we can safely assume that he was actually shocked at how much she resembled Laura.
Fosco wrote a prescription of stimulants for Anne so she'd have the strength to travel to London. On the train, Mrs. Clements noticed that they were being followed by an elderly woman (presumably Madame Fosco). A couple of weeks later, Madame Fosco appeared again, saying she'd been sent by Laura, and asked Mrs. Clements to go with her in a cab to discuss arranging for Laura and Anne to meet. Mrs. Clements did so, but then Madame Fosco got out of the cab and disappeared. When Mrs. Clements returned to her lodgings, she found that Anne was gone. The next day, she asked for Anne at the Asylum, but Anne wasn't there.
We can assume that Fosco kidnapped Anne, introduced her to his household as Lady Glyde, and then she died. (Walter himself concludes this in the beginning of Chapter III.) But if Anne was the fake Laura, what happened to the real Laura?
For reasons that will become clear soon, Laura's recollection of everything that happened once she left Blackwater Park is distorted and may contain errors. But this is how she recalls it:
Laura arrived in London and was greeted by Fosco, who took her to a house (not his house in St. John's Wood), where she was interviewed by two strange men. (The original readers probably would have gotten the reference: in order to be committed to an insane asylum, the patient had to be declared insane by two doctors.) She started to feel faint and was given a glass of water which tasted strange (clearly drugged), and from this point on her story gets weird and unreliable. She claims to have gone to Mrs. Vesey's, had tea with her and spent the night, and Mrs. Rubelle was there. She thinks she went somewhere with Fosco the next day.
Her next clear memory was of being in the Asylum. A nurse was helping her undress and calling her "Anne Catherick." When Laura insisted that she wasn't Anne Catherick, the nurse said the absolute last thing Laura wanted to hear: "Well, if you aren't Anne Catherick, then why are you wearing her underwear?" (Clothing was marked with people's names so it didn't get mixed up in the laundry. I know of not one but two other Wilkie Collins novels where this is mentioned, so I can only assume that he thought it was funny that everyone was walking around in personalized underwear.)
Meanwhile, back at Blackwater Park, Marian was informed of Laura's "death." Thankfully, the narrative spares us from having to read a description of the shock and grief she must have experienced, informing us only that it was three weeks before she was able to leave Blackwater Park. Once she was able to, Marian went to London to discuss her suspicions regarding Laura's death with Mr. Kyrle. He responded to this by interviewing Fosco, the doctor, and the servants, and determining that Marian was just being hysterical due to grief.
Marian went to Limmeridge, where she read a letter that Count Fosco wrote to Mr. Fairlie. In this letter, Fosco warned him that Anne Catherick had been caught and sent to the Asylum, but she's been claiming to be Laura in an attempt to harass Sir Percival, so Mr. Fairlie should disregard any communication he might receive from someone who says they're Laura.
Marian became sick again and was stuck at Limmeridge for a month. Her suspicions of Fosco continued, so she had his house watched, but nothing of interest was observed. She was also unable to find anything suspicious about Mrs. Rubelle or Sir Percival (who was in France at the time.)
Finally, Marian decided to visit Anne Catherick in the Asylum. Marian had never met Anne before, but she wanted to find out what the real story was behind Anne's supposed delusion of being Laura. The asylum owner agreed to let her see Anne, and mentioned that the delusion was really having a noticeable effect on her mannerisms and behavior, to the point where even her height, hair color, etc. seemed to be slightly altered. (Here's a fun experiment we can try: I'm pretty sure reading that gave me brain damage, so let's see if I transform into a tall, thin blonde!) I can only assume this guy worked his way up to the position of proprietor, starting as a patient.
Marian was led out to the grounds by a nurse, where "Anne" was going for a walk, supervised by an attendant to avoid an encore of her previous escape (which, as I said last week, I'm pretty sure consisted simply of going for a walk and not bothering to come back). HOLY SHIT, IT'S LAURA. There was a tearful reunion, and Marian ended up using more than half her life savings to bribe the nurse into letting Laura escape. She also gave the nurse instructions to tell everyone she'd overheard "Anne" asking for directions to Blackwater Park, so they'd all look for her in the opposite direction of Limmeridge.
The trip to Limmeridge ended badly. Mr. Fairlie refused to recognize Laura, and was convinced that Marian had been duped by Anne Catherick. The servants didn't recognize her, either. The only servant who might have stood a chance of recognizing her, Fanny, was away, and Marian didn't want to risk recapture by waiting for her return. (I'm glad to hear that Fanny still has her job, and has not been discharged... I'm so sorry, I'll try to behave from now on.) They decided to return to London, but first Laura wanted to see the grave, and this is where she saw Walter.
We're finally caught up to where last week left off. (Oh thank God, I can finally go back to writing in present tense.)
The situation looks hopeless. Even Walter's mother and sister, who have never met Laura, believe that Walter and Marian have been tricked by Anne Catherick into thinking that Laura's alive. Laura herself isn't much help because the trauma of spending nearly three months in the Asylum has left her with memory problems (although she still recognizes Walter and Marian).
The three of them decide that hiding in plain sight is the best way to avoid Sir Percival and Count Fosco. They rent rooms above a news shop in a poor neighborhood, under a fake name, pretending to be siblings. Walter gets work illustrating periodicals. Marian does all the housework, so they don't have to hire a servant. Walter and Marian gently take care of Laura, taking her for walks and playing children's card games with her. Walter buys her a sketchbook, although her drawing is now "faltering" and "feeble."
Walter and Marian decide that the best way to prove Laura's identity is to obtain testimonies from as many people involved in the case as possible. They have Marian's diary, so that's a start. Mrs. Vesey claims that Laura was never at her house. (Walter doesn't tell her why he's asking.) Walter and Marian obtain narratives from Mrs. Michelson, Hester Pinhorn, the doctor who examined "Lady Glyde," and the woman who prepared the body.
Walter goes to Mr. Kyrle, and doesn't realize until he's already at the office that Count Fosco and Sir Percival are probably having the place watched. Oops. He tells Mr. Kyrle everything that happened, and of course Mr. Kyrle thinks he's delusional. He also points out that even if Walter is telling the truth, no jury will believe him because this whole thing sounds like the plot of a Wilkie Collins novel. (uh, he doesn't say that last part.)
Mr Kyrle does note, however, that there is one thing that might give Walter a chance to prove Laura's identity. We know the date that "Lady Glyde" died. We don't know the date that Laura left Blackwater Park. If it can be proven that Laura was seen alive after she supposedly died, then they'll have a case.
This would be wonderful news if we hadn't already proven that no one knows when Laura left Blackwater Park. Mrs. Michelson doesn't remember the date, Mrs. Vesey has the letter from Laura but there's no date on it, and Laura herself can't remember anything clearly. It seems like the only people who can provide the necessary information are Sir Percival and Count Fosco themselves, and of course they aren't going to confess to anything...
...unless Walter makes them, because he's a big strong manly man who's going to rescue the damsel in distress and save the day, and also he's the one writing this narrative so of course he's going to make himself sound like a hero.
Walter leaves Mr. Kyrle's office (he also learns from Mr. Kyrle that Sir Percival is back in town), and ends up being followed by two men, one of whom he recognizes as one of the guys that Sir Percival had following him before he left for Honduras. Walter of course has to inform the reader that the only reason he didn't beat them up then and there is that getting thrown in jail would have hurt Laura's case, because Walter is a big strong manly man and I'm sure he can take two guys in a fight. Instead, he takes a detour to mislead them.
When Walter gets home, he gives Marian a letter that had been sent to her at Mr. Kyrle's office. Oh crap, it's from Fosco. He's an enormous creep, and condescendingly tells Marian that she and Laura should continue hiding and not try to reclaim Laura's identity. Oh, and tell Walter to stay in Honduras, because if he comes back to England, Fosco's going to kill him. Great.
Walter decides to go back to Hampshire (where Blackwater Park is), to see if he can find any clues. His efforts there prove useless, and he has a run-in with a man whom he's pretty sure was hired by Sir Percival to try to provoke Walter into fighting him so Walter would get arrested. Walter returns home, protecting himself with a super special defensive technique that he learned in Central America, which consists of occasionally looking over his shoulder when he's walking down the street. I learned a similar technique living in New Jersey, Walter. You aren't special.
Walter realizes that the most effective way to attack Sir Percival would be to learn his secret. With Anne dead, the only option is to speak to Mrs. Catherick, and so Walter tracks down Mrs. Clements (by asking her relatives at Todd's Corner if they know where she is) to find the best way to do that. Incidentally, we also learn the following about Sir Percival:
Sir Percival's father had been reclusive due to a birth defect. He and his wife had spent almost their entire marriage living in Europe, where Sir Percival was born. It wasn't until after his parents' deaths that Sir Percival, as an adult, finally moved to England. This is when he became friends with Laura's father.
Anyhow, Walter meets with Mrs. Clements, which is where we get the information in the beginning of this summary about what happened to Anne. He doesn't tell her that Anne is dead, but that he is trying to find the people responsible for her disappearance. We end this week's section with Mrs. Clements finishing her story.
We only have two weeks left, so let me close with Walter's words: The End is appointed—the End is drawing us on—and Anne Catherick, dead in her grave, points the way to it still!
2023.01.11 03:00 strongbad4u (Spoilers main) Sam and Jaqen in Old town and part 1 of Euron's plans.
The Battle of Blood has been mine and many others most anticipated event to happen in TWoW ever since George read The Forsaken sample chapter back in 2016. Everyone is expecting Euron to do something WILD at the battle and the degree which the chapter hypes him up as a villain is immense. Euron is going to Summon and eldritch apocalypse and be the ultimate pirate lord... except people started to notice the foreshadowing Sam has.
In fact there was a knight from the Stormlands with a crow in his sigil, a storm crow if you will, Sir Guyard Morrigan. Go read the Wikipedia description of the Irish god of death, destiny, and the sea that is the Morrigan. But those descriptors sure sounds like Euron... Now Who killed Morrigan?https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Morr%C3%ADgan
All part of the plan.
So Euron is going to die before he can enact all of his plans? What gives? Well, it's quite possible this is his plan. Lets look at the infamous second vision Aeron Greyjoy has in The Forsake chapter.
NOW what have we all been anticipating for more than a decade? What event happened in season 6 of the show that left out a key element we know will be in play in our story? Jon Snow's soul going into ghost and then being resurrected back into his body. The same thing will happen to Euron.
If Jon Snow is Christ when resurrected then Euron is the Anti-Christ. Consider one of the most blatant religous references in the books.
Now what I do struggle with is Euron's ability to complete the first vision Aeron has if he dies before the long night truly begins.
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"The Citadel is not what it was," complained the blond. "They will take anything these days. Dusky dogs and Dornishmen, pig boys, cripples, cretins, and now a black-clad whale. And here I thought leviathans were grey." -AFFC, Samwell V "Behind the dais a kraken and grey leviathan were locked in battle beneath the painted waves". -ADWD, Davosredditor genghiskazoo goes into greater detail in his terrific post on this topic where he argues that Sam is going to strike the killing blow ( likely through his eye that straight up looks like a bullseye target) at a later date because there is not enough narrative weight ( pun intended) for Sam to kill the character who has this much build up. For Sam to shoot Euron in the face after all his boasting would be something that would only happen in a parody of ASOIF right??? I'm almost certain that's not the case.https://www.reddit.com/asoiaf/comments/nt6966/spoilers_extended_how_sam_the_slayer_is_being/
Blood is Black Water
To be blunt this element of the theory I owe in part to Preston Jacobs video on the Battle. In his battle of blood video he made an observation that the setup for The Battle has striking similarities to the Battle of the Black Water."... a tempting plump target, was one of the lannister hulks... Slow green blood was leaking out between her boards. Davos saw green gushing...entrails of a dying beast."If we are to be looking for the upcoming battle to have moments that parallel the Battle of the Blackwater, perhaps there was a moment that foreshadowed Euron dying?
In fact there was a knight from the Stormlands with a crow in his sigil, a storm crow if you will, Sir Guyard Morrigan. Go read the Wikipedia description of the Irish god of death, destiny, and the sea that is the Morrigan. But those descriptors sure sounds like Euron... Now Who killed Morrigan?https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Morr%C3%ADgan
Garlan Tyrell.
One of the effects of George not going through with the 5 year gap is that events he intended to be used as clear foreshadowing in the first three books are proving to be much less effective. If you blink while reading AFFC you might have missed it but Sam has been losing weight."Gilly can stay as long as she likes." She poked Sam in the belly with a finger. "She does not eat so much as some.""I'm not so fat as I was before," Sam said defensively. The passage south had seen to that. All those watches, and nothing to eat but fruit and fish. " Sam V AFFCBut George knows that Sam doesn't have a celebrity trainer and he hadn't made much note of weight loss in ASOS so Sam is still fat but *less fat.*Did you know there's another character like this? A character who has a nickname he isn't always comfortable with? That character is Garlan Tyrell.
"I see why they name you Garlan the Gallant, ser," she said, as she took his hand. "My lady is gracious to say so. My brother Willas gave me that name, as it happens. To protect me." " To protect you?" She gave him a puzzled look. Ser Garlan laughed. " I was a plump little boy, I fear*, and we do have an uncle called Garth the Gross. So Willas struck first..*." Sansa III ASOSSo did Garlan Tyrell kill Guyard Morrigan with a bow and arrow? No, but something better is foreshadowed.
" Stannis was neck deep in the river, and they took him in the rear...His own men hardley fought, they say. Some ran but more bent the knee and went over, shouting for Lord Renly! I had it from Osney Kettleblack who had it from Ser OSmund, but \**Ser Balon's back now and his men say the same...\*It was Lord Renly! Lord Renly in his green armor, with the fires shimmering off his golden antlers! Lord Renly with his tall spear in his hand! They say he killed Ser Guyard Morrigen himself in single combat, and a dozen other great knights as well. It was Renly, it was Renly, it was Renly!"* Acok Sansa VIII am sure you can see where this is going
" Tell me, ser. Who was wearing Renly's armor?" For a moment Loras Tyrell looked as though he might refuse, but in the end he remembered his vows. "My brother," he said sullenly. " Renly was taller than me, and broader in the chest. His armor was too loose on me, but it suited Garlan well." Jamie VIII ASOS
Jaqen and Sam
Samwell doesn't have Balon Greyjoy's armor to fool the Ironborn like Renly did, but do you know what he does have? Jaqen H'ghar, the faceless man who Euron hired to kill Balon Greyjoy...who now has Balons face.Now the topic of who the armor fits better is relevent when it comes to who pretended to be Renly, but this time everything is reversed. Sam will wear the mask despite it being too tight and him not being trained at all. Why? Because George couldn't help himself but to make a fat joke and point out how the Ironborn would believe Sam was the drowned god reborn bloated and misshapen.All part of the plan.
So Euron is going to die before he can enact all of his plans? What gives? Well, it's quite possible this is his plan. Lets look at the infamous second vision Aeron Greyjoy has in The Forsake chapter.
"He saw the longships of the Ironborn adrift and burning on a boiling blood-red sea. He saw his brother on the Iron Throne again, but Euron was no longer human. He seemed more squid than man\, a monster fathered by a kraken of the deep, his face a mass of writhing tentacles. Beside him stood a shadow in woman’s form, long and tall and terrible, her hands alive with pale white fire. Dwarves capered for their amusement, male and female, naked and misshapen, locked in carnal embrace, biting and tearing at each other as Euron and his mate laughed and laughed and laughed …*"*If you know anything about warging from Bran chapters its that if you stay in an animal for a long time it really starts to overtake your soul.
NOW what have we all been anticipating for more than a decade? What event happened in season 6 of the show that left out a key element we know will be in play in our story? Jon Snow's soul going into ghost and then being resurrected back into his body. The same thing will happen to Euron.
If Jon Snow is Christ when resurrected then Euron is the Anti-Christ. Consider one of the most blatant religous references in the books.
"We wouldnt need need to swim, if this is the place I think. We could walk." She pulled back and gave him a look. " Walk on water? What southron sorcery is that?" " No sorc---" he began, as a huge bolt of lightning stabbed down from the sky and touched the surface of the lake."In the same moment that George slaps us in the face with christ imagery regarding Jon Snow, he is interrupted in saying there's no sorcery by a storm... I wonder who sent the storm.
Now what I do struggle with is Euron's ability to complete the first vision Aeron has if he dies before the long night truly begins.
"He showed the world his blood eye now, dark and terrible. Clad head to heel in scale as dark as onyx, he sat upon a mound of blackened skulls as dwarfs capered round his feet and a forest burned behind him.“The bleeding star bespoke the end,” he said to Aeron. “These are the last days, when the world shall be broken and remade. A new god shall be born from the graves and charnel pits.” Then Euron lifted a great horn to his lips and blew, and dragons and krakens and sphinxes came at his command and bowed before him. “Kneel, brother,” the Crow’s Eye commanded."I can't imagine Euron will bring a horn with him into the sea until he is ressurrected so my guess is that whoever Eurons lover and likely resurrector is has a horn that will bind men to their will... I will expand on this in a second post.