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Autumn 4986, 16 Aoimoth
Shon and Nangran hobbled their horses at the base of a steep hill deep in the woods north of Hamerfoss. They'd left at fourth bell, before any of the other Squires had woken for their morning run, and it had still taken them hours of riding through narrow trails to reach this place. At least they hadn't run into any monsters. The snow that had dusted the landscape during the night lay thick here, crunching underfoot and occasionally flopping noisily to either side as it fell from the tall evergreen branches.
Shon adjusted the strap of his sword across his chest and reached his left hand back to brush shaking fingers over its hilt. He'd been glad when the Paladins insisted he take it with him. To them, it marked Shon as a representative of Hengist and the Temple. To Shon, it was a sign of his hard work and resolve. Having it was a comfort.
Nangran started up the hill, and Shon hurried to follow. The smith hadn’t spoken a word since they set out, not even to try and ease Shon’s anxiety, for which Shon was grateful. Master Daunas had tried to sound confident as Shon saddled his borrowed horse, and The Major General had offered him encouragement as they mounted. Neither realized how much that just drove home the desperation of the situation in Shon’s mind.
The smith pulled his heavy cloak tighter, and Shon looked away. He hadn’t bothered to wear his cloak. He'd never really felt chilled in the winter like others seemed to. Now that he knew why, he wished he had. Cold continued to swirl around him, enhanced by his worries. If he could just block those emotions, the power would never have been a problem to begin with.
The trees thinned the higher they climbed, disappearing almost entirely as they crested the top of the hill. The clearing looked over the treetops, offering an unimpeded view of the horizon. Forest all around, with flatland to the south and rocky mountain peaks to the north. Only a handful of small trees grew in the clearing, and in the middle stood a little ramshackle hut only slightly larger than an outhouse.
Nangran threw his arm out, stopping Shon from walking past him, "Don't touch anything. And don't be surprised if he says no right off."
Shon nodded, trying to swallow down his fear so it wouldn't be seen in his eyes. Dropping his hand, Nangran started forward again, finishing, "Be honest, but not insulting." The instructions, -or perhaps advice?- seemed like common courtesy, which made Shon wonder why quiet Nangran had bothered to say anything.
As they drew closer to the little shack, Shon could make out a sign on the door. He squinted to read it and had just made out 'No Soliciting' when the door swung open, banging against the wall and sending birds into flight. An old man, so thin he looked like a skeleton with yellow skin pulled tight across its bones, stormed out. Wearing nothing but a loincloth, he was shaking a thick stick at them that glinted with red rubies in the low autumn light.
"I already paid my dues for this decade! So you can take your request and shove it-" Shon’s hand instinctively reached for his sword, but Nangran just crossed his arms over his barrel chest. The old -virtually naked- man stopped yelling mid-rant and lifted one shriveled arm to shade his eyes as he squinted at them, "Eh? Flintchest, what’re you doing way out here with a blasted mage in tow?"
Rather than answer, Nangran started forward again, he didn't much care for talking, let alone shouting. Looking from Nangran to the loincloth man, Shon slowly lowered his arm, but still took position to the left and just behind the Smith as they approached the crazy man with the glittering club.
"No mage." Nangran said as he came right up to the strange old man, "Squire." he glanced over his shoulder at Shon and finished, "Sorcerer."
The old man spat on the ground and moved his squint to Shon. Running his eyes from the top of his black head to the tip of his polished boots and back, exaggerating the movement before he stopped at the Squire’s cold blue eyes.
He spat again, then barked "Where's your familiar?" scanning first the ground at Shon's feet then the sky above his head.
Shon blinked at him, furrowing his brow in confusion at the question. The mage snapped his fingers impatiently, "Your familiar! All Sorcerers have a familiar."
Nangran came to his rescue, "Just woke last night," he said shortly.
The mage spat again but didn't argue, "Well, come in then." Shon looked sideways at Nangran, but the Smith had already begun following the skinny old man into the shack. Shon hurried to catch up.
Inside, Shon's eyes were assaulted with a sparkling rainbow of colors. The room they'd entered was considerably larger than the outside would suggest, with plush carpet and a stuffed high-back armchair in front of a blazing fire in the opposite wall. Shelves full of exotic plants, glowing glass jars, and glittering stones filled every available space, reflecting off one another and setting streaks of light to dance on the floor and walls like sun rays through crystal.
There was too much to take in, so Shon focused on their host. The old man was slipping into a thick robe of deep purple velvet. He'd hung the club on the wall beside the door, which looked just as decrepit on this side as it had on the outside.
"Make a habit of greeting visitors half-naked and swinging an old fireball wand?" Nangran asked as he slipped out of his cloak.
"Keeps the conversations short." the old man replied tersely, tying his belt and turning to his guests. With boney knuckles on boney hips and glare firmly planted on his wrinkled face, he snapped, "Don't bother getting comfortable, Flintchest; you'll be leaving soon enough."
The Smith ignored him, hanging his cloak on the hook that had presumably held the mage's robe. "Got a favor to ask," he said, but the old man was already shaking his head,
"More like a favor to cash in. That's the only reason you're in here and not smoking in a hole outside."
Nangran ignored the threat and motioned from Shon to the old man and back. "Archmage Ivelm." The mage looked Shon up and down again as Nangran made the introductions, “Squire Shon.”
"Not much longer, I'd say." Ivelm said to Nangran as he finished his second examination, "It's to the Guild with this one. Too much magic." he turned his head and spat in a brass can by the door. It rang out with a loud ‘ting!' and Ivelm sniffed, looking down at Nangran again, "What do you want, Flintchest?"
"Need a seal. So the boy doesn't freeze Hamerfoss more than it already is." the smith crossed his arms, watching the mage and somehow still seeming completely at ease.
"Eh?!" Ivelm exclaimed, leaning far forward. Shon had to try hard not to crinkle his nose as the old man brought his face close enough that Shon could smell Ivelm's breath. Garlic, the mage ate a lot of garlic…
"So… you don't want to be a mage, do you?" he demanded, glaring down his nose at him. Shon shook his head and would have answered with a 'no ser.' except the mage continued, "Rather swing around some hunk of metal like a brute?"
Shon blinked stupidly, and Nangran cleared his throat, "Watch what you say about my swords, old man."
Ivelm ignored the smith as soundly as Nangran had ignored the Archmage, and continued to Shon, "The powers of the universe are at your fingertips. Blood blessed with the strength of the elements, and you wanna throw it all away," he threw his arms into the air, still uncomfortably close, "And for what? Some illusion of an honorable death by the sword?"
Shon didn't know what to say. He looked past the affronted mage's face, only an inch from his own, to Nangran. But the smith gave no sign he was going to help. Shon’s future depended on convincing this strange old man, this Archmage, to help…
Shon wasn't the type to try and convince anyone of anything, but the least he could do was explain himself. Shon stepped back from the mage to address him from a more comfortable distance. "I chose to dedicate my life to perfecting my art, and my art is martial combat," he said. Ivelm wrinkled his nose, his mouth twisting as if he were going to spit again, but Shon continued, "magic would be better served in the hands of someone who wants it badly enough to work for it. Like I've worked for my martial skills."
Ivelm leaned away from Shon, his eyebrows lifted into his frizzled gray hair. Shon looked to Nangran, hoping for some sign that this was a good response. The smith smiled from behind the mage.
"Soooo…" Ivelm drew the word out, "You think only those who dedicate themselves to strict study and practice should wield the power of the universe?" he leaned forward again, turning his head and fixing one eye on Shon like a bird. As if trying to catch him in a lie.
Shon nodded, confused, then asked, "Isn't that what it takes to effectively wield magic? Focused study?"
Ivelm didn't answer the question, instead turning his face to examine Shon with the other eye, scanning him up and down yet again. The old man had looked him up and down so much Shon wouldn't be surprised if the next question were about his hair or boots.
But Ivelm didn't ask another question. Instead, he stood straight and spat into the brass can with another ringing 'ting!' "I like this one," he said, turning his back on Shon and facing Nangran, "But it's too much." he shook his head, lifting his hands in helpless surrender, "Too much power, and ice at that. Stubborn element that one. And it's so finicky to block just elemental magic..."
Ivelm continued talking but Shon heard very little of it. A hole had opened in his gut, and it felt like his heart was racing his stomach to fall into it. But Nangran just rolled his eyes at the mage, interrupting, "Used to be the name in new magic items... made shackles to hold Archmages." he squinted at Ivelm, who had frozen mid-head shake, "Must've gotten rusty out…"
Ivelm snapped his fingers under the Smith's nose to stop him talking, "The mind does not rust, Flintchest!" he huffed, one bare foot tapping under his robe, "Not like your swords and shriveling muscles." Nangran just stared stubbornly, his thick, muscled arms still crossed over his broad chest.
The mage continued to tap his foot, his nose in the air. But as the silence stretched, Ivelm looked down at the smith, who continued to say nothing. The silent battle of wills ended when Ivelm threw his arms up in disgust and shook a finger under Nangran's nose, nearly hitting it, declaring, "I'll show you. I'll make a gem especially for this lad, and you'll see the mind only continues to grow sharper!"
He spun on his heel back to Shon, who had just made out the smith's returned smile from behind the mage when the old man snapped his fingers in Shon's face, making him jump. "Well, what are you waiting for? Come here so I can take some measurements!" Ivelm swung around again and marched across the room to a large workbench with plants and gems scattered across it. Shon scrambled after him, praying his thanks to Hengist and suddenly feeling light enough to float. His anxieties dropping away and melting like snow in summer.
***
It was already noon, and no one had come to see Her. She jumped up to grab the bars of Her window, pulling Herself up to peak out but seeing nothing but new snow and tree trunks. She was full to bursting with nervous energy, amplifying every sound and sensation. Footsteps sounded outside Her door, and She dropped from the window, sprinting across the room and resting Her ear on the wood.
“Ran, recheck the lab. Brom, with me.” Archmage Morndancer spoke with his strange alternation between draconic and common as he passed Her door without stopping. She could easily make out the swish of their robes on the stone hall leading away. Three people, Brom, Ran, and Archmage Morndancer. And yet the scurrying of too many feet to be only the two apprentices and Archmage Shaloon, sounded from the floor above. There were strangers in her tower again. Many strangers. Something was happening, something big…
She ran to Her window again, just for something to do, seeking some way to burn off some of the anxiety of not knowing what was going on around her.
A roar from down the hall, a roar of pain, sent ice washing through her veins. She slammed into the door at full speed. Pounding on the wood, She called out, “Brom?! Ran?!” Nothing. Then a yip cut short, followed by barking and yowling.
She shook the handle with both hands, rattling the door on its hinges, “BROM! RAN!” Something was happening to Her treasures, something terrible… The door handle began to glow, the metal warping and sagging as it melted. The knowledge that She would be in more trouble than She had ever been in before was nothing compared to Her terror. She wrenched the handle back with all Her might, splashing molten metal across Her bed, lighting fires that flared in her panic, and sending smoke to curl up to the ceiling.
She didn’t care. She shouldered the door open and ran.
“Red?!” She passed the first open door but couldn’t stop as Ran called out to Her. Reaching Her treasures' room, She tried to stop but slipped, slamming into the ground with a sticky splash. A final whining bark started a buzzing in Her ears as She stared, transfixed, at Her hands. They were painted red. Warm and sticky. The overpowering stench of iron nearly made Her gag as She looked up to see Morndancer toss aside a glittering golden wolf pup, the body flopping limply over the corpse of its mother and siblings.
Her world went red.
***
The last sample was taken care of, but something roared with enough ferocity to shatter glass.
Morndancer's head snapped around in time for him to fall back, shielding his face with his hands as the Firewyrm exploded. White-hot fire engulfed Her and spread out to the stone floor and walls. His robes began to smoke, the new fire protection spells woven into them being overpowered by the sheer ferocity of the blaze.
Brom had no such spells, and he had only managed a single step towards the girl before he fell to the ground, writhing for only a moment before lying still. The Archmage heard Ran scream from the hall before the journeyman stumbled past the door, flailing wildly. Barely discernible as human inside the flames.
The Firewyrm moved towards him, stepping through Brom’s head, turned to ash, and blown up to dance in the air on the same heatwaves causing the girl's hair to wave wildly about Her. She didn't seem to notice, Her face was expressionless and her eyes glowed as red as the scales across Her cheek. Morndancer tried to snap his fingers, but the golden collar around Her neck melted, Her clothes burning off and leaving Her naked and terrible in the flames.
His robe was burning now, and only the pain of that could pull his eyes from the Firewyrm as he pointlessly tried to beat the fires off. He fell back, hitting the wall, which drooped, sagging and dripping molten stone onto his head and face. Then he fell further back, into a gate that opened behind him.
Shaloon pulled him through the portal and into the library three stories up. The Firewyrm roared again and the tower walls shook with the force of it. The gate closed, but Morndancer continued to burn. He could hear screaming. Was it him? Was he screaming? Fire burst up the spiral stairs in the middle of the room, and apprentices, both their own and many sent from the central and western Talon, scrambled about in a panic, some even leaping from the windows.
Shaloon cursed, holding out her hand and summoning her sword again. She had to draw the circle five times before a second gate finally formed, and she dove through it, pulling Morndancer along with her as it quickly closed. An apprentice reached through, and his arm fell at Morndancer’s feet, miles away in the sitting room of his manor back in Smildna.
He laughed. Shaloon slapped him, and he laughed. Ronni, his daughter, burst through the door, her own daughter, only a year old, perched on her hip, and still, he laughed. “What’s wrong?! What happened to him?!” he barely registered his daughter's words and continued to laugh, rolling around on the ground in mirthful madness.
“The Firewyrm She…” Shaloon started, but Morndancer yelled over her in draconic,
“She is true! She is pure! She is rage! The children will come and raise the grandchildren! We have only to await the coming of those Chosen!” the room faded around him, becoming washed out and gray then finally black as he continued to laugh and shout, “They take those who slew them and use them to raise themselves anew…”
He couldn’t feel his burns or the hands trying to settle him. He saw only darkness and stars. And the eyes of his Master boring into his soul from the outer planes.
***
Shon couldn't remember ever feeling so drained in his life. He'd been tired before, exhausted even, but it had never felt quite like this. The eccentric Archmage Ivelm had ordered him to 'empty his energy' into stone after stone. Measuring the weight, color, and temperature of each. Making notes in chalk directly on his table and talking to himself. Shon was shocked the first time he saw the smooth rock handed to him change from a translucent white to an onyx as black as his hair, but by the time they'd gone through the twentieth stone, Shon had decided to stop counting.
Ivelm, however, seemed to get more and more excited with each one. Giving Shon reason to suspect the mage may be taking the energy for himself. After what felt like hours, Ivelm finally stoppered the potion he'd mixed with the most recent jewel, glowing a soft pale blue, and stepped back from the workbench, bony hands on bony hips.
"It can be done." Ivelm swiveled to face Nangran, "He's strong, I don’t know how he managed not to manifest until now, but it's all focused in one elemental direction." he rubbed his chin and looked at the ceiling, completely ignoring Shon's arched eyebrow. "It has a bit of divine flavor as well. But I suppose that shouldn't be surprising for a training Paladin." The mage stopped musing and glared down his nose at Nangran, who had made himself comfortable in the oversized wingback chair by the fire, "It will have to be a lot bigger than a piece of jewelry would allow."
The smith just hummed and sipped at his mug. When had he gotten a mug? Shon looked from one old man to the other. It was apparent Ivelm wanted Nangran to ask him for details, but the ever stoic smith said nothing.
Shon was tired. His limbs felt heavy, and the weight of his simple uniform felt more like platemail. He was just about to ask what the Archmage meant, to hurry them along, when Ivelm threw his hands in the air and said, "You'll need to find somewhere to put it. I would recommend that." he pointed at the hilt of Shon's sword over his shoulder, continuing, "If the lad is insisting on swinging a metal stick around instead of harnessing the ultimate powers of the universe then that same stick might as well sap the power literally as well as figuratively." Shon arched an incredulous eyebrow but Ivelm wasn't paying attention, finishing, "I can get it down to about an inch and a half orb. At the smallest. If you want something different, say so now."
Nangran set his mug on the ground and stood with a grunt and a groan. Shon just wanted to go home and sleep for a week, so when the smith reached for the hilt of his sword for a closer look Shon hardly noticed, until the squat smith jerked it down to eye level. Shon swung his arms like a drowning man and stepped wide to prevent himself from falling over.
"Quit wigglin'," Nangran grumbled, studying the sword's pommel with a professional eye. "One and a half'll do, preferably in a tear…"
The mage snorted and continued to ignore the struggling half crouched Shon, his voice dripping sarcasm as he addressed the smith, "Shall I wrap it in silk for you as well?"
"Na." Nangran let go of the sword, and Shon stood straight, lifting his leg to shake out the knee. "Drop it off when you’re done." the Mage snorted again but didn't counter.
None of them were interested in extending the visit, so Nangran grabbed his heavy cloak and shrugged it on while Shon waited by the door. "It will be at least a fortnight," Ivelm called from his position by the workbench, not about to walk them out.
Nangran grunted his confirmation and opened the battered and decrepit door, letting the wind and early autumn snow blow in on their way out. Shon followed numbly, his eyes unfocused as he walked, and ran right into the much shorter man. Nangran hardly moved as Shon bounced off of him. He was squinting into the distance, one large hand shading his eyes. Shon stared at Nangran for a moment before following the direction of his gaze over the tree line.
Smoke. A LOT of smoke. The black clouds billowed violently into the sky, occasionally lit from below by sparks shot high into the air.
"Elm!" Nangran shouted. Shon had never heard the man call so loudly. The Archmage must have also been shocked because the door to his hut swung open and he stuck his head out to look to either side, eyes wide.
"Flintchest, what?" but he soon saw what, "But, that's the old chemist's tower… What?" he stood in shocked confusion for a heartbeat before turning back into the hut. Shon looked from the shack to Nangran, but before he could say anything, the mage was back, struggling with two long rods, one blue with what looked like waves painted all around, the other black and studded with diamonds.
"Don't just stand there!" Ivelm snapped at the two as he finally managed to slip the blue rod into a sheath at his side. He then pointed the diamond rod at the space between two close-growing trees. Shon heard him say something unintelligible, and one of the diamonds shot out of the tip of the rod to hover between the trees before expanding into a portal.
Beyond the magical gate, Shon could hear the fire roar. It sounded how he imagined the burning hells might sound, but as he followed the two men through, he realized his imagination was tame by comparison.
The smell of burning flesh and hair choked him as they stepped clear of the gate's magic. The heat smashed into them like a wall, and all three brought their arms up to shield their faces. Around them were the charred remains of what looked like humans, their faces buried in the mud as if they'd been trying to run from the blaze. Shon had to swallow the bile that rose in his throat and focused instead on the fire Ivelm had said was a tower.
It was completely engulfed in bright flames of all colors. Squinting through the light, he could see the stone walls melting like wax. The arch of the doorway sagged in the middle, and Shon's eyes went wide. Someone was in there.
He would've had to shout over the roar of the flames, but it didn’t matter; Ivelm was already raising the blue wand, jerking his fingers in strange ways and mouthing words impossible to hear. Water shot out the tip of the wand with the force of a ballista and hissed against the glowing stones.
It wasn't possible. It must be a trick of the flickering flames. But the figure turned its face to them, long hair whipping about as it took steps in their direction.
"Don't just stand there, boy!" Ivelm screamed. "They must have a fire-resist spell; those things don't last forever!"
Nangran grabbed Shon’s upper arm, pulling him a step closer to the fire and down so he could shout in his ear, "Freeze a path."
Shon swallowed. He was so tired, literally drained. He didn't know what to do or how to do it. But the figure in the fire reached out to them only to pull away from a drop of molten rock. Shon fell to his knees, placing his hands on the ground and pleading silently to Hengist. He didn’t know what to do, didn’t know how to control the power. He tried picturing a path of snow between himself and the tower base, concentrating on it until the mental image overlaid the real world, as he did when imagining phantom fighters during practice.
Ice snaked its way from Shon's fingers towards the burning tower along his mental path, powered by the fear that he wouldn't be fast enough to save the person inside. The water from Ivelm's wand helped carve the way, and Shon grunted physically as he struggled to push mentally. His breathing came heavy and ragged. He could feel the fire melting the edges of the ice as if it were a part of him. Still, he fought back and forced it to continue to form into solid sheets moving closer and closer to the figure still trapped in the tower.
Wherever the ice formed solid, it stayed. The fire drawing back from it until, finally, it reached the doorway. He urged the ice to climb up the doorframe, to hold it in place and keep it from falling, from moving at all.
Shon was seeing double. He struggled to focus on the figure and flinched as they stepped onto the frozen path. The ice hissed and melted under their bare unsteady feet, he could feel it... feel them, their heat, on his ice.
It was a young woman. Or an older girl. She was naked; her clothes burned away by the fire. Her long hair was being blown forward by the heat of the burning tower, obscuring her face. As she moved closer, Shon could make out strange red stripes snaking around her body, standing in stark relief against her pale skin.
Ivelm stepped in front of him then, throwing Nangran's cloak around her shoulders as she crumpled to the ground. Nangran himself knelt beside Shon, resting one massive hand on the Squire's back. "You can stop, lad…" his voice trailed off, and Shon felt an emptiness open in his chest. No one could have survived that, not if they hadn't already made it to the entrance like the girl. As if to punctuate the thought, Shon managed to focus his eyes only to see the tower's entrance wall fold and collapse in on itself, the stones flowing like soft wax.
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Sorry for the double post today. I wanted to keep Ch 14 & 15 together.
Thanks for making it this far, you are the real MVP

God is a trinity
God the father God the son God the holy spirit
God the father: Genesis 1:26 / Then God said, “Let us make mankind in our image, in our likeness, so that they may rule over the fish in the sea and the birds in the sky, over the livestock and all the wild animals, and over all the creatures that move along the ground.
John 14:28 / You have heard Me say to you, ‘I (Jesus) am going away and coming back to you.’ If you loved Me, you would rejoice because I said, ‘I am going to the Father,’ for My Father is greater than I.
God the holy spirit: Genesis 1:2 / The earth was without form, and void; and darkness was on the face of the deep. And the Spirit of God was hovering over the face of the waters.
John 14:26 / But the Advocate, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in My name, will teach you all things and will remind you of everything I have told you.
John 16:13 / However, when He, the Spirit of truth, has come, He will guide you into all truth; for He will not speak on His own authority, but whatever He hears He will speak; and He will tell you things to come.
God the Son: John 1:2-5 / In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things were made through Him, and without Him nothing was made that was made. In Him was life, and the life was the light of men. And the light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not comprehend it.
John 8:58 / Jesus said to them, “Most assuredly, I say to you, before Abraham was, I AM.”
God is good: 1 Chronicles 16:34 / Oh, give thanks to the Lord, for He is good! For His mercy endures forever.
God is holy: Psalm 97:12 / Be glad in the Lord, you righteous ones, And give thanks to His holy name.
God's love: John 3:16 / For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have everlasting life.
God's justice: 2 Corinthians 5:10 / For we must all appear before the judgment seat of Christ, that each one may receive the things done in the body, according to what he has done, whether good or bad.
God is righteous: Psalm 119:137 / Righteous are You, O Lord, and upright are Your judgments.
How to enter heaven:

1. Believe in the trinity
2. Believe Jesus Christ died for your sins on the cross
3. Believe Jesus Christ was raised from the dead 3 days later
4. Do not follow your own desires
5. Put on the armour of God
6. Resist the devil and he will flee
7. Follow God's commandments
8. Repent of your sins
9. Pray to God
10. Ask for forgiveness from God

1 John 2:3-6 / When we obey God, we are sure we know him. But if we claim to know him and don't obey him, we are lying and the truth isn't in our hearts. We truly love God only when we obey him as we should, and then we know we belong to him. If we say we are his, we must follow the example of Christ.
We are all sinners but through Jesus we can find everlasting life.
Repent and turn from your old ways. Sin escalates and gets worse without regret.
Sin is not allowed in heaven so bind and resist sin on earth.
Matthew 18:18 / I assure you and most solemnly say to you, whatever you bind [forbid, declare to be improper and unlawful] on earth shall have [already] been bound in heaven, and whatever you loose [permit, declare lawful] on earth shall have [already] been loosed in heaven.
We can receive forgiveness and mercy for our sins through God the son, Jesus Christ our lord and saviour.
Forgiveness is available to everyone, even those who have made the same mistakes many times. However repentance is needed from you. Jesus will show you the right way but you still have a choice to follow or not.
How to resist the devil:
The armor of God represents the defense we must take in our spiritual lives. The Bible tells us that we are fighting a war against Satan, who seeks to destroy us. Therefore, we must take action and put on God's armor. As Christians, it is important for us to understand the severity of this battle.
Armor of God

1. the belt of truth - honesty
2. the breastplate of righteousness - do the right thing
3. the shoes of the gospel of peace - remain calm and collected
4. the shield of faith - trust God
5. the helmet of salvation - accept Jesus Christ is my lord and savior.
6. The sword of the Spirit - use and know the word of God

GOOD FRUITS OF THE SPIRIT:
Galatians 5:22-23 / But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control; against such things there is no law.
Matthew 6:14 / For if you forgive men their trespasses, your heavenly Father will also forgive you. But if you don't forgive men their trespasses, neither will your Father forgive your trespasses.
Matthew 22:37-39 / Jesus says, “You shall love the Lord, your God, with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your mind. This is the greatest and the first commandment. The second is like it: You shall love your neighbor as yourself.
1 Peter 4:8 / And above all things have fervent love for one another, for “love will cover a multitude of sins
John 14:21 / Whoever has My commandments and keeps them is the one who loves Me. The one who loves Me will be loved by My Father, and I will love him and reveal Myself to him.”
SINS:
The 10 Commandments: 1. You shall have no other God's before me. 2. Thou shalt not make unto thee any graven images. 3. Thou shalt not take the name of the Lord thy God in vain. 4. Remember the Sabbath day and keep it Holy. 5. Honor your father and mother. 6. Thou shalt not kill. 7. Thou shalt not commit adultery. 8. Thou shalt not steal. 9. Thou shall not bear false witness. 10. You shall not covet.
The seven deadly sins are:

1. lust
2. gluttony
3. greed
4. laziness
5. wrath
6. envy
7. pride

Proverbs 6:16-19 / These six things doth the Lord hate: yea, seven are an abomination unto him: A proud look, a lying tongue, and hands that shed innocent blood, An heart that deviseth wicked imaginations, feet that be swift in running to mischief, A false witness that speaketh lies, and he that soweth discord among brethren.
Matthew 5:27-28 / You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall not commit adultery.’ But I say to you that everyone who looks at a woman with lustful intent has already committed adultery with her in his heart.
James 4:17 / So whoever knows the right thing to do and fails to do it, for him it is sin
Colossians 3:5-6 / Put to death therefore what is earthly in you: sexual immorality, impurity, passion, evil desire, and covetousness, which is idolatry. On account of these the wrath of God is coming.
Galatians 5:19-21 / Now the works of the flesh are evident: sexual immorality, impurity, sensuality, idolatry, sorcery, enmity (hostility), strife (conflict), jealousy, fits of anger, rivalries, dissensions (disagreement), divisions, envy, drunkenness, orgies, and things like these. I warn you, as I warned you before, that those who do such things will not inherit the kingdom of God.
Galatians 5:19-21 / Now the works of the flesh are evident: sexual immorality, impurity, sensuality (sexual pleasure), idolatry, sorcery, enmity (hostility), strife (conflict), jealousy, fits of anger, rivalries, dissensions (disagreements), divisions, envy, drunkenness, orgies, and things like these. I warn you, as I warned you before, that those who do such things will not inherit the kingdom of God.
Any miracles done that is not from God is from the devil. The devil is deceitful and will hide his sorcery in false doctrines. Do not be deceived and be led astray because this is done by the devil to hide the truth.
1 John 3:15 / Everyone who hates his brother is a murderer, and you know that no murderer has eternal life abiding in him.
CONSEQUENCES OF SIN:
James 1:12-16 / Blessed is the man who remains steadfast under trial, for when he has stood the test he will receive the crown of life, which God has promised to those who love him. Let no one say when he is tempted, “I am being tempted by God,” for God cannot be tempted with evil, and he himself tempts no one. But each person is tempted when he is lured and enticed by his own desire. Then desire when it has conceived gives birth to sin, and SIN WHEN IT IS FULLY GROWN BRINGS FORTH DEATH. Do not be deceived, my beloved brothers
Hebrews 3:12-14 / Take care, brothers, lest there be in any of you an EVIL, unbelieving heart, LEADING YOU TO FALL AWAY FROM THE LIVING GOD. But exhort (strongly encourage) one another every day, as long as it is called “today,” that none of you may be HARDENED BY THE DECEITFULNESS OF SIN. For we have come to share in Christ, if indeed we hold our original confidence firm to the end.
1 Peter 3:12 / For the eyes of the Lord are on the righteous, and His ears are open to their prayers but the face of the Lord is against those who do evil.
Matthew 5:30 / And if your right hand causes you to sin, cut it off and cast it from you; for it is more profitable for you that one of your members perish, than for your whole body to be cast into hell.
Proverbs 9:10 - The fear of the LORD is the beginning of wisdom, And the knowledge of the Holy One is understanding.
SAVED BY FAITH:
Matthew 7:21-23 / Not everyone who says to Me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ will enter the kingdom of heaven, but only he who does the will of My Father in heaven. Many will say to Me on that day, ‘Lord, Lord, did we not prophesy in Your name, and in Your name drive out demons and perform many miracles?’ Then I will tell them plainly, ‘I never knew you; depart from Me, you workers of lawlessness!’
Ephesians 2:8 -10 = For by grace you are saved through faith, and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God; not by works, so that no one can boast. For we are his workmanship, having been created in Christ Jesus for good works that God prepared beforehand SO WE MAY DO THEM.
James 2:17 = So too, faith by itself, if it does not result in action, is dead
James 2:21-22 / Was not our father Abraham justified by what he did when he offered his son Isaac on the altar? You see that his faith was working with his actions, and his faith was perfected by what he did.
My conclusion on faith:
We are saved by faith in the trinity. Works are there to strengthen your faith. Sin weakens your faith until it dies.
Reasons for evil:
Isaiah 45:7 / I form the light and create darkness, I make peace and create calamity; I, the Lord, do all these things
You have free will to choose to be good or evil. God allows you to choose even if he knows what you will choose. If he doesn't allow evil people to exist he cannot give free will to man or he cannot let man be created. If man has no free will then we can no longer call ourselves human being as we would be something else. If we are not created by God he cannot save his lost sheep born into a world of good and evil where the ground is cured and weeds grow amongst the wheat.
Hell was created for the fallen angels but also because evil people exist. Evil people cannot escape justice so God created a place of torment for them. This place is for people who disobey God and refuse to serve him.
Matthew 13: 37-39 / He answered and said unto them, He that soweth the good seed is the Son of man; The field is the world; the good seed are the children of the kingdom; but the tares are the children of the wicked one; The enemy that sowed them is the devil; the harvest is the end of the world; and the reapers are the angels.
God needs cursed ground to sow the seeds of sinners. God has rules which he also follows, he does not just do as he wants. The devil can sow his own seeds as well. The devil's seeds/children can also be saved.
Zechariah 3 1-4 = Then he showed me Joshua the high priest standing before the angel of the LORD, and Satan standing at his right side to accuse him. The LORD said to Satan, "The LORD rebuke you, Satan! The LORD, who has chosen Jerusalem, rebuke you! Is not this man a burning stick snatched from the fire?" Now Joshua was dressed in filthy clothes as he stood before the angel. The angel said to those who were standing before him, "Take off his filthy clothes." Then he said to Joshua, "See, I have taken away your sin, and I will put rich garments on you."
The devil is making mistakes as you can see from the verse above. Weeds can also be saved.
These sinners can be saved by faith in God the son. We are all black sheep which God is coming to find.
The reason for life: So that God can tell you who you are at the end of your life. Only God can define you. God loves you and wants to bless you.
The bible is God's word. 2 Timothy 3:16-17 / All Scripture is breathed out by God and profitable for teaching, for reproof, for correction, and for training in righteousness, that the man of God may be complete, equipped for every good work.

The continent had been locked in a violent, bloody war for just about as long as anyone could remember. Alliances were made and broken, cities were razed to the ground, and men from all races fought endlessly for what seemed like little gain. Well, until now at least! The war had finally ended, your nation finally conquering the capital city of it's rival. You had been a young knight in the army that besieged the city, one who had found himself declared a hero after the war for one reason or another.
As you return home, you find that being a hero.. well, it has it's perks! Money, land, fame, political power.. who'd have thought a young, inexperienced knight would become so powerful? Perhaps most notable though, is the fact that you can have just about any woman you want. You'd already received dozens of propositions for an arranged marriage, and you could hardly go out in public without seeing at least a few longing gazes in your direction.
Hey everyone! So that's the basic plot, it's intentionally vague because I'd like to fill in the blanks together if possible! Most important, I'd like to figure out who my character is with you! She can be a princess, a peasant, a slave, or anything else you might desire! Additionally, I'm happy to play a human or nonhuman, such as an elf or an orc. My only real requirements are that I play a more submissive character, and the plot involves a good amount of romance and smut (love at first sight is a plus!).
I would like to make this long term, and I exclusively roleplay on discord! So.. shoot me a message or a chat request and we can start discussing ideas! Can't wait to hear from you!

They did what to Taggert? After years of speculation, the writers finally cut off Taggert's family ties when Trina's paternity test revealed that Curtis is her biological father. Sure DNA isn't everything, just ask Michael why he's feuding with a guy he calls "Dad" when he could call him "the guy who killed Dad" and choose to have nothing to do with him.
The cherry on top is that Curtis is not displaying many redeemable features these days. Does Trina know she went from legacy to a leg up or over? Curtis was playing Jordan by leading her to believe they might have a second chance while at the same time moving back into the beach house with Portia. Detective Jordan figured it out and said she was getting on with her life. Humbly, I say, I've said that to Jordan since she recovered from her kidney transplant. Can we please find someone new for Jordan? By new, I mean not related to Curtis or Portia.
As for Trina, she dragged her billionaire boyfriend out of the pool and forced him to go to the bank because his rich uncle died and left him all his - I want to say marshmallows, but that's wrong. Thankfully, for Trina's reputation, Victor did not leave Spencer gold, but instead, evidence of Esme drugging both Trina and bartendephone dealewannabe environmental law attorney Oz Haggerty. Victor said it was something to "safeguard his family." He placed the key to the safe deposit box under the turtle dove earrings that Spencer bought for Trina when she was with Rory. Apparently, Esme is now the biggest threat to Spencer's family. But what will they do with this proverbial smoking gun?
Michael gave Carly the smoking gun video of Sonny helping an international illegal arms dealer. The plan is to trade Sonny to the feds to get them off her back. Carly is adamant that Michael destroy the tape. Michael can be slow on the uptake but it's loony for him to think that he has the skills to play Sonny and Carly against one another.
Victor's will be done. Get it? The reading is over and he has set traps for a bunch of them to do what he wants. Anyway, he gave Ava a picture of a gargoyle saying it was her first true love. Ava, of course, is most interested in what people will learn of her last love, Nikolas. As a reminder, Ava has no clue what happened to Nikolas. Last she knew, she killed him by hitting him over the head. She stuffed his body in a closet. When she looked again, his body was gone. I have no idea what is going through this woman's mind. Someone should clue her in that human bodies don't disappear. Yeah, sure, ashes to ashes, dust to dust, but typically that takes more than a few days.
In his video, Victor does not hint that he knows what happened to Nikolas. He acknowledges that he left town, but that's it. He left Nikolas a deed to a house in Chechnya. Laura decided she has to go there because she in incomplete without her son. You know that old saying, when your ears are burning (feeling warm) that means someone is talking about you, Lucky's ears are nice and cool.
Laura tells Valentin she has to go to Chechnya to find out if Nikolas is hiding out there. He insists on going along to help her. Ava thinks it is a bad idea. Austin thinks that it will take Laura and Valentin a long time to plan the trip. Austin dear, in the time since we've last seen you, Laura and Valentin have been to Greenland and back. They've deciphered and stopped Victor's plot to release a deadly pathogen that would have killed untold millions of people around the world. As a bonus, Laura prevented the latest version of the Cassadine weather machine from turning Port Charles into an igloo factory. I think they can manage a trip to Russia.
Victor gave Alexis some antique nesting dolls to represent her and her daughters. She thought that was nice. He also gave her a deck of Tarot cards for Sam, to one day make herself "lucky in love for once." Alexis thought that was mean, but you know what they say, the truth hurts. The only thing we have to worry about is if Lucky does come back to town that he'll hook back up with Sam.
Victor gave Valentin a literal finger. Anna received a more figurative one when Victor released information about her doubleagent activities with the DVX back in the day. The new Director of the WSB who replaced Frisco opts to fire Anna to save the agency from embarrassing questions and answers. With the demise of any formidable Cassadines and Anna losing her agent status, maybe it is time finally to say goodbye to the 80s. Problem is they don't have anything to replace it with. Dex and Spence sizing each other up in saunas and poolside is something, but hardly the stuff of legends.
I know you have only read this far to find out the most important thing happening in Port Charles. Even though this was a short week because of the Memorial Day Holiday on Monday, each day was fraught with tension. Enough with the filler, here is the real information. I won't drag it out and act as if everything hinges on this answer. Every character does not have to be motivated to achieve one unitary outcome. They don't have to be, they want to be. I write this, you read this all because you want to know the answer to the eternal question: How is Willow doing? Tune in next week...
... Willow is now will still be alive.

Until You Come Back To Me(That's What I'm Gonna Do) - Stevie WondeAretha Franklin
Lately - Stevie WondeJodeci
I'm Every Woman - Shaka Khan/Whitney Houston
As We Lay - Shirley Murdock/Kelly Price
Never Felt This Way - Brian McKnight/Alicia Keys
Honorable mentions: Can You Stand The Rain - New Edition/Boyz II Men and Human Nature/Right Here(Human Nature) - Michael Jackson/SWV
Whatchu got?

PART 15 <==H==> FIRST
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Will was excited, the past few weeks seemed to herald a new change in Ilicia’s and Agrana's relationship. He had been surprised when came back that first day to find Agrana eating and chatting idly with Ilicia. He was more surprised when Ilicia told him what had happened and when Agrana came to him to assure him of the end of her attempts on Ilicia's life. Will had nearly exploded trying to contain his shock.
It was now commonplace to see Ilicia and Agrana chatting when Will was not around. Will suspected his grandmother did something to facilitate this, but she assured him she had done nothing other than explain her relationship with Karva. Will was suspicious by nature, and as the Princess's Man, he was obligated to be suspicious of all things having to do with the princess. And an Ogdeshi taking a sudden interest in the princess and serving her was suspicious.
Will knew Agrana was a woman of her word. But he also knew her as a master manipulator, and he had confidence in the fact that Agrana would see little wrong with killing a large number of humans to get what she wanted. The thought of Ilicia coming to harm sent blood rushing through him in a way that threatened to bring on the natural occurrence of the Orcish blood rage.
Will was excited. All of this rushed through his head as he walked with Ilicia. He knew he was worried, and he hoped today would provide some reassurance for his ever-active imagination. Today was the day after he completed his training and he was to spend the entire day with Ilicia. She walked next to him, her arm through his, as he led them both through the twists and turns of a forest path that ended in a strange building seeming to grow out of the wood of a gargantuan tree.
The door opened automatically as they approached to reveal a wood elf-man in clothing that seemed to emanate a sense of regal energy. The elf smiled at them and bowed. "Master Will, Princess Ilicia, welcome and please do come in."
Ilicia smiled back at the man. "Thank you sir."
"How is the family Jullian?" Will asked as he stepped through the door, making it feel three inches too small in all directions.
"My wife is well, she is in the kitchen cooking as usual. I will be serving you today as my children are not here at the moment." Jullian said with a quick bow. He led them through the building which Ilicia realized was far larger than it appeared from the outside. They passed several other couples and groups that were seated at different tables as Jullian led them up a sweeping flight of stairs and out onto a balcony that appeared to be several hundred feet in the air and protruding from the tree.
"Will, what is going on with this building?" Ilicia asked, getting a twisting feeling in her stomach as she looked over the railing.
"That would be my wife's fault, she does as she will." Jullian said to Ilicia with an apologetic smile. He bowed once more, and then turned and walked away.
"What is this place Will?" Ilicia asked looking around and noting more and more things that simply felt off. She opened her mouth to speak again as a silver platter with goblets of water floated over and unloaded its cargo before simply vanishing into thin air.
Will laughed at her shock. "Jullian is a wood elf."
"Even I noticed that." Ilicia said wondering where Will was going with this.
"His wife is a goddess." Will said with a smile at how quickly Ilicia's jaw dropped. "We are not sure what she is a goddess of, but she has a penchant for cooking and brewing and she loves Jullian with her whole heart. She fell in love with him when he found her wounded in the woods and stayed by her side, talking of his home in the woods of his youth, he cooked for her and cared for her for three weeks before she could rise on her own."
"Wow." Ilicia said, "Do you know how she was injured?"
"No,and I am not sure anyone knows except Trina. That is the name she has chosen to go by. She also tells people that she is simply Jullian's goddess when asked what she is a goddess of. She is a rather interesting character, if she ever comes to say hello I am willing to bet you will like her."
Ilicia smiled at Will and Jullian reappeared. "So what would you like to eat?"
Will smiled and rattled off a list of food which all sounded strange. Ilicia looked around to see where he had made his selection, but Jullian simply smiled at her and told her to ask for anything she desired. Ilicia realized what was going on and ordered her favorite food from home. Jullian smiled, bowed, and vanished through the doors once more.
"Anything we want huh?" Ilicia asked with a mischievous grin on her face.
"She is a goddess. But I will warn you Ilicia, last time I started trying to challenge her in her ability to cook anything, well let's just say she is willing to humor most things. If she feels you crossed a line, she will let you know by making your food so spicy you taste it for weeks, and that's only after the second or third bite." Will said, his tone indicating he was speaking from experience.
"What did you ask her for?" Ilicia asked.
"My dad told me he used to eat at a place called 'micky dees' so I ordered one of everything from their menu, thinking I would have her stumped with food from another world." Will said and then looked up. "She made it all and delivered it to me, told me to enjoy, and told me if I ever asked her to make such ludicrous and disgusting food again, I would find myself unable to eat solid food for a year."
Ilicia laughed and smiled at Will as Jullian brought out a small cart loaded with plates of food he began to lay on the table.
They ate their food and talked about various things. When they were finished eating Jullina brought them dessert. Will turned to Ilicia and broached the topic of Agrana.
"Ilicia," Will said in a serious mood now, "why did you take Agrana as a member of your staff?"
Ilicia was caught a little off guard. "What do you mean? Why would I not take her onto my staff? Her skills are self-evident."
"Oh, I know. I remember well who first taught me other than my father." Will said this with no anger, simply curiosity. "But I would still ask why you did this. Is the protection I provide lacking? Do you anticipate me leaving you anytime soon? I simply want to know what your reasoning was in making this decision."
Ilicia thought for a moment and then spoke. "I had several reasons, mostly I wanted her to not want to kill me. But since then I have come to some conclusions as to why having her around will be better than not."
Will nodded and Ilicia leaned forward taking his massive hand into both of hers. "I do not think your protection is lacking in any way. I am fairly certain that should I ever be kidnapped, you will tear apart the continent one rock at a time, laughing the whole way."
Will shrugged. The noncommittal way he agreed with herreminded her just how powerful Will really was. Ilicia continued. "The short answer is, you can never have enough bodyguards. The long answer is, I think that while you are the Princess's Man, you will begin to fulfill a far more important role in political functions once we return to the kingdom." She finished her thought in her head, "Hopefully that position is as my fiance or husband, and you can leave all the bodyguard work to Agrana."
Will thought about this for a moment, his eyes never leaving hers. Ilicia knew he was probably mulling over important thoughts, but a part of her wanted him to just look at her like that as he took her on the table. Ilicia shook her head and spoke once more. "So in addition to helping with my safety in that regard, if you leave to deal with the man who killed your father, I will still have a guardian."
Will nodded at this and seemed to relax. "Very well, but I want you to know if she ever makes a move against you again, I will kill on the spot."
Ilicia nodded, knowing from his tone that this was not a discussion but rather a statement of fact. That mischievous voice in her head also wanted him to command her in that tone. Ilicia blushed at the thoughts she was having and looked away from Will.
Will smiled at her when she finally got her blushing cheeks to cool. "So, we have eaten and now we have a whole day to ourselves. What would you like to do, Ilicia?"
"Well, I would like to visit your grandmother's library if she will let us." Ilicia said, remembering the room of books she saw Yilan in earlier.
"Of course." Will said with a smile.
Jullian appeared. "Is there anything else you would like?"
"No, Jullian it was fantastic as always." Will said with a smile.
"Thank you." Jullian said and turned to Ilicia. "If you have a moment my wife has requested a moment of your time."
"Of course Jullian." Ilicia said, turning to Will.
"I will wait for you outside." Will headrf down stairs on his own.
Ilicia followed Jullian through the building which only further exemplified how incredibly large the building was compared to its looks on the outside. When he finally led her into a kitchen that could have fed the entire castle she grew up in, Jullina bowed to her, smiled at the glowing woman standing behind a counter, and then turned to grab a tray of food and leave.
"Come Princess," the woman gestured to a stool set next to her. "Have a seat and talk with me for a moment."
"Of course." Ilicia said, falling back on court manners in this rather strange incident.
"Firstly, call me Trina," the goddess said, "and secondly, what do I have to do to make you forget your love of Will?"
Ilicia's jaw almost hit the counter. "What do you mean? Why would I ever do such a thing?"
Ilicia was angry, a deep anger that burned deep in her gut. Trina stopped what she was doing, knife paused mid-cut. "I care for Will, his father and mother both were dear friends of mine and always treated me no differently than anyone else. As a divinity, I have some small gift of foresight, and you need not be in love with Will. More importantly, he needs to not love you."
"I see why you wanted to talk to me only." Ilicia said indignantly. "Will would kill you."
"I spared with the boy once, and he very well might be one of the very few mortals who could kill a god, but that is beyond the point." Trina said with a calm voice of understanding. "I need to know what I would have to do, to what I would have to give you, to get you to remove Will from your life."
Ilicia panicked. She hated this woman. She looked into Trina's eyes. "You will have to kill me. I love him, there is nothing you could give me that could replace Will."
The goddess stared hard at Ilicia who did not back down. Trina chuckled. "Those Garrow men sure do pick firecrackers. You know there was a time where Will's father took one of my daughters on a date? She came home and said she would bless whoever he married because he was a handful. Then he went and married Yilan's daughter and they gave birth to a man who is by rights almost a god in terms of his ability and power."
Ilicia's head was spinning as she tried to follow Trina's words with her ears, and with her eyes the flurry of time-defiant movements her hands made. Trina paused again and looked Ilicia in the eyes. "You are a brave woman, and you will need to be. A time will come when the love you hold is used against Will, I hope you are strong enough to face the repercussions. Will is getting anxious, and I can not warp time any more than I already have without causing you harm. Take this and go to him, cherish him while you can princess."
Trina handed Ilicia a sweet roll and then hesitated before placing her hand on Ilicia's head and bowing hers for a moment. Ilicia felt a wave of energy wash over her. "Go forth with my blessing child."
Ilicia stood and left the kitchen to find Jullian waiting to take her outside. The sun was setting, where it had been morning just an hour or two ago. She looked back to the building and then to Will. She shrugged and slipped her arm through his. As she shared the sweet roll with him, Trina's words echoed through her mind.
One phrase in particular rattled her to her bones as Will guided her back to Yilan's library. "...I hope you are strong enough to face the repercussions."
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PART 15 <==H==> FIRST
FROM THE AUTHOR: Here it is, the next installment of The Princess's Man! I hope you all enjoy this and have a fantastic day!
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HFY Author Page
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If you want more information about the world and my other writing, check out my World Anvil page!

So I've gained access to a single wish thanks to the deck of many things and my DM has given me nearly free reign of what to wish for. The only rules are I can't gain a level or wish for any overpowered magic item (we have only just reached level 8).
But wishing for things like a feat or even a first level ability from a class or starting ability from a subclass are on the table.
Think things like picking up expertise/ sneak attack from the rogue or something like assassinate or fancy footwork from a rogue subclass.
I'm a human level 5 order of the lycan blood hunte level 2 monk (going to be 3 monk once I decide my subclass). I have the magic initiate (mage hand, minor illusion & shield) and the tough feats.
My stats are str (12) Dex (18) con (18) int (16) wis (16) cha (4)
So while I might save wish for some powerful spell later down the line I thought I'd see if anyone had any fun suggestions of other things I could wish for

This is not a political position, but a thermodynamic one. The world is heading from a time of excess to a time of scarcity. With more people enjoying fewer comforts, humanity is faced with the direction it takes for the rest of our species' future on this planet and others: we can't fight each other for what's left or we can share with each other what we need.
This isn't - or has never before been - a serious question because this world has never felt universal hardship before. In the past, when any major scarcity was faced (with the exception of 536) there was always a neighboring ally to buffer the loss or an enemy to subjugate; until now, there has always been more. Climate change is a global pressure on a globalized economy. There are no external economies that are thriving to prop up the luxuries we've come to feel entitled to. When that luxury can no longer be provided, people are trained to blame each other and ask for the boss to complain about our level of service.
This is the attitude fueling the shift to the right "all this liberal 'science' bullshit has turned my country into a place i dont recognize. Time to get my country in order!", but like how the long term side effects of COVID will be blamed on the vaccine rather than the virus, humans are apparently hardwired to look for a person or institution that's responsible for their problems, because they live in a world that's manifestly run by humanity. Politicians don't help with this because they promise change that a large bureaucracy isn't capable of... every time they step in front of a mic. Politicians feed the sense that the world is divided into teams and the team that's running things is doing harm. They are the anti-vax evangelists of a world simply running out of good time as a result of spending all the good time since the end of WWII.
Humanity cannot fly. That shouldn't be arguable. It's a fundamental limit of our physiology that cannot be overcome without shedding everything about us that makes us human; brains are heavy. When we get on a plane, we are not 'flying', we are taking a bus full of people, strapping a rocket engine to it, and firing it in a ballistic trajectory toward our destination. For all the celebration of progress in the tech age, we still can't figure out how to move something forward without throwing something out the back. That's not just why planes are absurd but why they cannot continue to be considered a good invention. Think of how much fuel would need to be burned to rocket yourself across a lawn, let alone through the sky; it's an insane amount of fuel and an absurd justification for burning it, especially virtually all domestic travel can be accomplished by rail or bus... which also use the same principle of throwing out enough exhaust gasses out the back to displace the weight of the thing that's burning the fuel. When this thing is on the ground, it burns much less fuel than pushing it through the sky.
Humanity assumes novelty is benign. Im not sure if this is one of the hidden rules about capitalism that we all follow as a culture "have you seen the new x!? It's amazing and works way better than x-1!", or if we're evolutionarily programmed to assume new is good and the direction we should be heading in. In either case, it has allowed us to adopt planetary destruction as a necessary aspect of each of our lives. It isn't anything we do consciously, it is the background of our lives that feeds big industry and steals time from the future. It's our commute, our food, our total acceptance that running a furnace is fine despite getting all worked up about oil spills and fires when we see them uncontained. The maze we all run was designed to have as much distance as possible between you and the cheese at the end so you would spend half or more of your cheese burning calories to get from the start to the finish and repeat all over. It is why people feel the problem is too big for them: there is nothing one person can change in the part of the life they control that will redirect the planetary system away from collapse because it is the pattern of our lives that is the destructive part.
Since our shared pattern is so destructive, it is self limiting. We are feeling the effects of that now with COVID (forests being pushed toward ecological breakdown leads animals to look for new territory and new food, leading to conflict with species already there and malnutrition from food with an incomplete nutrient balance), extreme weather doing damage to vital infrastructure and shipping losses.
Which brings us back to Ukraine. The world needs a beacon. A Western country with the courage to model a sustainable lifestyle through active change. I assumed that would have been Canada but I was wrong. Instead, with Ukraine being forced to rebuild in a time where supplies have never been more expensive, and in a state where its people have gotten used to living without luxury, it can either be an incubator for redesigning human life to restore the environment rather than destroy it.
There is no stronger people to take on such a challenge and the world that has been paying for weapons to defend. If we can send explosives to break, we must send hands, tools, and materials to rebuild. If we rebuild the same way, the world will fall into war since the causal push of all existing conflict is space and resources or their control, and we will continue to pretend that individual human choices are to blame for war. We will continue to refuse to look deeper and will soon find ourselves in a position where taking up arms seems like the only solution left to us. If, on the other hand, the rest of us find the courage to look one step deeper and ask "why is the world falling to war? What is driving conflict?", we will see it is the same thing driving our thirst for more luxury and, hopefully, realize that the only survivable path to the future is one where we change our behavior to relieve the force that's pushing us in that direction.
When more is never enough, less is a horrifying concept. Without a model for how to happily live as a human in a self sufficient community, there will be no "green transition", there will only be more disease, more scarcity, and more conflict on the edge of that scarcity. The more each of us takes, the more we contribute to conflict around the world.
There is no way to make a car "green", just like there is no way to make a compostable battery. The problem isnt the means of conveyance, it is the distance we need to cover to survive. Whether or not we change our habits to adapt to this reality is inconsequential to its eventuality, it just seems absurd to ignore the reality of hardship until you're being strangled by it simply to "enjoy the time you have left".
If the war in Ukraine ends and the world moves in to turn it into the first net zero country, there is hope for a future for our species. If we act like everything was fine until a mad man decided to invade a sovereign country, war will spread like a fog descending on the world. Demands will be met by force as a result of people pushing for impossibly cheap access to resources. Slavery will return as the foundation of the global economy and, in all this horror, we will be hastening and worsening our own conditions.
Like a train whose tracks go over the grand canyon, humanity needs one last train stop to see what it looks like to live somewhere other than a train at constantly increasing speed. We need a model for a future that is too nebulous to explain: it must be seen and experienced, how much living can be done as humans on and with the land. If nothing else but to illustrate that a train going over a cliff was not a predetermined consequence of "human progress", and that a choice has been made to define that progress with the inventions of a few men, all of which run by stealing energy from the past and stability from the future. It would allow us to see the train from the outside and force us to question the value of a murder-suicide pact.
For the demonstration to be compelling, there can be no or very little carbon footprint for the country. Structures must be built from salvaged (cheap) material, focusing on isolated but functional communities.
We have already lost the battle to save most of what we recognize in our world but we don't need to continue to burn it all down. Since there is no more track for this paradigm, there is no consequence for trying something new and certain death and misery by doing the same. This message can be shared in every possible way, but without a demonstration of what it looks like on a cultural level, we will never have the discussion that leads to the choice to keep going or get off the death train.
We are not the creations or technology we obsess over, we are an ape descended species on a planet we're stuck with and have killed 80% of in 50 years. We cannot survive on a lifeless world because we are alive and life feeds on life to survive. I have a hard time getting people to relate to the rest of the living world as a branch of the same tree we belong to because of how separated we are from other life. The more life that's lost, the less we'll care about it being gone and the more committed we will be to our preoccupations to avoid having to face reality.
The cowardice ive encountered when it comes to facing reality has been incredibly disappointing and disturbing. We will pass laws in our country to prevent poaching and hunting in other countries where our emissions and lifestyle -guided by our laws- are pushing the same animals to total extinction. We will talk about this from a position of moral superiority, only, and will take no responsibility for the conditions our behavior has already created. There is no "border crisis", there are people being pushed out of their homes by new weather that has made those homes incompatible with survival. I've heard lots of Americans talking about moving north in response to climate shifts as if that is something completely different from what is happening on their southern border or in Europe. No one leaves their ancestral home to cause problems in another country, but if that country is responsible for the force that pushed them out, they should either stop pushing people out of their homes or open their borders. To refuse either is to accept that you live a life of evil and as the person that will one day deny you shelter to protect what they have.
These a new times with new stakes and new bad guys. The only good thing about being the bad guy is you can choose to stop, while your victims can only beg you to stop and, eventually, resist/insist on a different course. It is up to each and all of us how the future plays out. The party is over. No one gets to sit this out.

Hello 3d6! I’ve been working on this character theorycraft for a while now, and I’ve quite nearly accomplished my goal — only to fall barely short at the final 1%. I’m sharing it now in a 99-percent-complete state, for everyone to enjoy reading my mad scientist ravings, or to offer their own suggestions on how to wring out just a little bit more damage to finally have a character that can kill any creature in a single punch.
tl;dr: a theorycrafted level 20 Saitama character can deal 634 damage on average in a single punch, instantly killing 99% of all published monsters (27 monsters can survive).

The self-imposed rules

• Must be RAW.
• All printed magic items are allowed, and random properties may be chosen.
• Average rolls will be used for ability checks, attacks, and damage rolls.
• All the damage must be dealt in a single punch attack: damage that happens after the resolution of the attack does not count (poisons, damage on a later turn, etc.)
• Any amount of preparation time for the single punch is allowed.
• No friends — all the preparation must be done by the single character. No buff spells may be cast by other people.
• Bonus points if everything can be explained within One-Punch Man’s canon lore.

Now, let’s get into it!

Race

Protector Aasimar. Saitama claims to be an ordinary man, but let’s be honest, to have such ludicrous power, he must be more than human. Aasimar are more or less human, but with a touch of the divine, which fits the bill perfectly. Mechanically, we’re choosing this for the Radiant Soul option: as an action once per long rest, they transform for 1 minute and once per turn can deal their level in radiant damage to one target of an attack. At level 20, this will add +20 radiant damage to the punch, by far the highest single-attack damage boost of any racial ability.

Stats

Saitama has incredible strength, speed, reflexes, and durability, which he attributes to an intense training regimen. How could he have gotten such formidable training? Well, perhaps he read the instructions in a magic book. The Manuals of Gainful Exercise, Quickness of Action, and Bodily Health are very rare magic items that describe “fitness exercises,” “coordination and balance exercises,” and “health and diet tips” with words that are charged with magic. Studying these manuals and practicing their guidelines for 48 hours increases a creature’s STR, DEX, and CON stats by 2, as well as increasing their maximum for that score — up to a cap of 30. Clearly, to have such godlike strength, dexterity, and constitution, Saitama’s intense training must have included reading as many Manuals as necessary to raise his STR, DEX, and CON stats each to a godlike 30. This results in Saitama having a +10 to STR attack and damage rolls, a +10 boost to DEX checks like stealth and initiative, and a ridiculous amount of hit points. In order to multiclass, Saitama will also need at least a 13 in INT, WIS, and CHA — which should be achievable.

Classes

Saitama starts by taking three levels in Armorer Artificer, which gives him a suit of Arcane Armor that expands to cover his entire body and can be used as a spellcasting focus for artificer spells. The text describes “metallurgical pursuits,” but nothing RAW forbids one from choosing a suit of yellow leather armor for Arcane Armor. At AC 11 + DEX, this gives Saitama an AC of 21 — which doesn’t really matter, since he can kill nearly anything in a single punch before it ever has a chance of attacking him. We choose the Guardian Armor Model for Saitama’s Arcane Armor, causing the red rubber gloves on his leather armor to be counted as Thunder Gauntlets: they count as simple melee weapons when not holding anything in them, and deal 1d8 thunder damage on a hit. Saitama also has the option to use his INT modifier instead of STR or DEX when attacking with the gauntlets, but let’s be honest, he’s going to stick with his godlike +10 STR modifier here. Saitama will infuse his gloves with the Enhanced Weapon artificer infusion, giving them a +1 to attack and damage rolls, and turning them into a magic item. From Armorer, Saitama also learns the spells Booming Blade and Absorb Elements. To complete Saitama’s armor, he also gains a white Cloak of Billowing (a common magic item that does not require attunement) and a pair of red rubber Boots of Elvenkind (an uncommon magic item that also does not require attunement, and gives advantage on Stealth checks to move silently).
Next, Saitama takes nine levels in warlock. He chooses the Hexblade patron and Pact of the Blade, and gains the Hexblade’s Curse, the Eldritch Smite invocation, and the Banishing Smite spell from the Hexblade expanded spell list. He will also transform his gloves into his pact weapon, and take the Improved Pact Weapon invocation, allowing him to use his gloves as a spellcasting focus for warlock spells. Unfortunately, because his gloves are already a magic weapon with a +1 to attack and damage rolls from the Enhanced Weapon artificer infusion, they do not gain an additional +1 to attack and damage rolls from Improved Pact Weapon. Hexblade’s Curse allows Saitama to curse a creature within 30 feet for 1 minute as a bonus action, and add his proficiency bonus to damage rolls against that target. Eldritch Smite deals 1d8 force damage plus another 1d8 for each level of warlock spell slot expended when hitting a creature with one’s pact weapon. At a maximum 5th level spell slot, this adds 6d8 force damage to his punch. Banishing Smite activates as a bonus action and consumes concentration for 1 minute to add an extra 5d10 force damage on the next hit with a weapon attack. Additionally, if the target then has 50 HP or less, it is banished to its home plane (or until the spell ends). At nine levels in Warlock, Saitama gets two 5th-level spell slots per short rest. This is just enough for one usage of Eldritch Smite and one casting of Banishing Smite. However, he will then have to rest before going out to fight villains again — perhaps a good reason for why he spends so much time relaxing at home playing video games and reading manga. Saitama also gets two ASIs at his fourth and eighth levels of warlock. At these levels, he will take the Martial Adept and Fey Touched feats. The Martial Adept feat gives him a d6 superiority die and two maneuvers, one of which will be Menacing Attack (the other does not matter). Menacing Attack adds the d6 to the damage of the attack and forces the target to make a WIS save or be frightened (and though our goal is to kill the target outright, if it somehow survives, Saitama’s DC will be a difficult-to-surmount 24: 8 + 6 [proficiency bonus] + 10 [STR mod]). From the Fey Touched feat, Saitama will learn the first-level divination spell Gift of Alacrity, which lasts 8 hours without concentration and adds 1d8 to his initiative rolls.
To kill creatures in a single punch, Saitama will need to train to Assassinate: taking four levels in Assassin Rogue. Assassinate gives Saitama advantage on attacks against creatures that have not yet taken a turn in combat, and automatic critical hits on creatures who are surprised. In order to surprise creatures, Saitama will need to succeed on a Stealth check contested by the target’s Perception: “Any character or monster that doesn't notice a threat is surprised at the start of the encounter.” Saitama rarely sneaks up on his targets, but usually allows them to monologue for a long time before annihilating them with a single punch. It is his unremarkable appearance that allows him to take his enemies by surprise — and perhaps that appearance is its own form of stealth. Just to make getting surprise mechanically possible, Saitama will take an Expertise in Stealth, to double his proficiency for a +12 to Stealth in addition to his +10 DEX modifier. Due to his red rubber Boots of Elvenkind, he will also get advantage on Stealth checks made to move silently. With a +22 to Stealth, on an average d20 roll of 13.825 (with advantage), a Stealth of 35.825 should allow him to defeat the passive perception of nearly every monster — even the Greatwyrms, which have a passive perception of only 32. Tiamat has a passive perception of 36, and as the monster with the highest passive perception, she is the only monster capable of successfully noticing Saitama’s threat (unless he gets a little lucky with the Stealth roll). If we really want to ensure that Saitama can go undetected, we could give him the Epic Boon of Undetectability for an additional +10 to Stealth checks and immunity to detection or targeting by divination magic. He will also need to beat his target on an initiative roll to be able to get an automatic critical hit — which is why he will take the Alert feat on his fourth level of rogue, giving him a +5 to initiative rolls in addition to the +10 from his DEX modifier. As the only bonus monsters get to initiative is from their DEX modifier (and the highest DEX modifier that any monster has is +9, for the Elder Tempest or Will-o’-Wisp), with a total +6 edge from the +5 from Alert and his +10 DEX modifier, as well as +1d8 from Gift of Alacrity, Saitama will beat even the fastest monsters’ initiative rolls 89% of the time (and a later item will increase this to 97%).
When Saitama uses a Serious Punch, it’s like sending the target on a Path to their Grave. Thus, Saitama will take two levels in Grave Cleric. As an action, Path to the Grave allows Saitama to choose “another creature’s life force for termination.” The next time he hits the chosen creature within 30 feet with an attack, the creature has vulnerability to all of the attack’s damage, causing the damage to be doubled (as long as the creature is not immune or resistant to any of the damage types).
Lastly, Saitama will take two levels in paladin, gaining Divine Smite and the Dueling fighting style. When hitting with a melee weapon attack, he can expend a spell slot to Divine Smite, dealing additional radiant damage to the target. At three levels of artificer, two levels of cleric, and two levels of paladin, Saitama is a fifth-level multiclassed caster (his three levels from artificer are halved and rounded up to two, cleric gives two levels, and two levels of paladin is halved to one, for a total of five). This gives him two 3rd-level spell slots per long rest — spending a 3rd level slot on a Divine Smite gives an extra 4d8 radiant damage (1d8 off of the maximum of 5d8 from spending a 4th-level spell). It also deals an extra 1d8 to undead or fiend targets. The Dueling fighting style gives +2 to damage rolls when wielding a melee weapon in one hand and no other weapons. The Thunder Gauntlets count as simple melee weapons when not holding anything in them, so Saitama will hold something in his right hand, leaving him wielding only one Thunder Gauntlet on his left hand when he delivers a Serious Punch. (In One-Punch Man canon, Saitama usually punches with his right hand. For a mechanical reason, our theorycrafted DND Saitama has to punch with his left. Maybe this is why DND Saitama is slightly weaker than canon Saitama, and isn’t able to kill every monster in a single hit.)
With three levels of artificer, nine levels of warlock, four levels of rogue, two levels of cleric, and two levels of paladin, Saitama is a level 20 character.

Feats

As mentioned above, Saitama will take Martial Adept and Fey Touched at his fourth and eighth warlock level, and Alert at his fourth level of rogue.

Additional items

When Saitama strikes someone, it occasionally appears as if he has grown to incredible size (https://tenor.com/view/one-punch-man-gif-23643267). To simulate this, DND Saitama will consume a Potion of Giant Size (legendary) and a Potion of Growth (rare), increasing to Huge for 24 hours and then again to Gargantuan for 1d4 hours. From the Potion of Giant Size, his weapons roll three times as many dice (thus increasing his Thunder Gauntlets to deal 3d8 thunder damage on hit). From the Potion of Growth, Saitama gets advantage on STR checks and saves, and deals 1d4 additional damage on weapon attacks.
Saitama can attune to three magic items. We will choose the Hand of Vecna (legendary), Sword of Kas (legendary), and a Ring of Spell Storing (rare).
To attune to the Hand of Vecna, Saitama had to lop off his left hand at the wrist and replace it with the Hand of Vecna. This withered hand is hidden within his red rubber glove, and (among other properties) allows him to deal an extra 2d8 cold damage when he makes a melee weapon attack with a weapon held in the hand. The Hand of Vecna also includes one minor and one major beneficial property, along with one minor detrimental property. For the major beneficial property, we will choose the property: “When you hit with a weapon attack while attuned to the artifact, the target takes an extra 1d6 damage of the weapon's type.” For the minor beneficial property, we will choose immunity to charm and fear effects. The minor detrimental property we will choose is: “Your appearance changes as the DM decides” — from his intense training regimen (which included chopping off his left hand and replacing it with the Hand of Vecna), Saitama unfortunately lost all of his hair — still a sore spot for him.
The Sword of Kas grants several abilities, but Saitama only attacks with punches, so it will remain in its scabbard, somewhere on his person. While it is on his person, it adds an additional d10 to Saitama’s initiative (raising his probability of having a higher initiative than even a monster with +9 DEX to 97%). The Sword of Kas also includes one minor and one major beneficial property, as well as one minor and one major detrimental property. We will choose the same major beneficial property as the Hand of Vecna, for an extra 1d6 damage when hitting with a weapon attack (typically effects of the same type do not stack. However, since these are generic properties of two artifacts with different names, the properties should stack under RAW). The minor beneficial property can be any (some thematic options include immunity to disease or +1 AC), and the minor detrimental property can be: “The first time you touch a gem or piece of jewelry while attuned to this artifact, the value of the gem or jewelry is reduced by half.” Perhaps this explains why Saitama is poor. The major detrimental property can be taking 8d10 psychic damage when attuning to the Sword of Kas: Saitama mentions that his training was so intense that he thought he might die — perhaps this damage was why it felt so intense. (Note: with eighteen levels in classes with d8 hit dice and two levels of paladin for d10 hit dice, Saitama’s average hit points is 92, not counting the incredible 200 additional HP from his +10 CON modifier. Even at a maximum roll of 80 psychic damage from attuning to Sword of Kas, he wouldn’t actually die.) Interestingly, the Sword of Kas also causes its bearer to gradually become obsessed with destroying anyone corrupted by the Hand of Vecna — this might cause Saitama to become fairly conflicted.
Lastly, the Ring of Spell-Storing. Up to five levels of spells can be stored within, and can be cast while touching the ring. Saitama can spend one of his fifth-level Pact Magic slots to cast Absorb Elements (learned from his levels in artificer) into the ring, before resting to regain his Pact Magic slot. Absorb Elements can be cast as a reaction to elemental damage, grants resistance to the triggering damage, and adds an extra 1d6 of that damage type per spell level when the next time the caster hits with a melee attack on their next turn. Cast at a fifth level, this adds 5d6 elemental damage to Saitama’s punch. To voluntarily trigger the Absorb Elements, we will have Saitama use his free object interaction to stick a finger into a vial of acid held in his right hand (which also makes the Thunder Gauntlet in his right hand no longer count as a melee weapon since it's holding something, thus enabling him to use the Dueling fighting style with his left). The acid will burn Saitama, allowing him to cast Absorb Elements in reaction, getting resistance to the acid damage and charging up 5d6 acid damage to be released on his next melee attack this turn.

Preparation to punch

In order to maximize damage in a single attack, Saitama needs to do some preparation. At some point, he will spend one of his fifth-level Pact Magic slots to cast Absorb Elements into the Ring of Spell Storing, before resting to regain his Pact Magic slot.
On the day of, he must also cast Gift of Alacrity to maximize his initiative rolls (this lasts 8 hours), and spend an action drinking the Potion of Giant Size (which lasts 24 hours). One hour before the fight, he must drink the Potion of Growth (which lasts a minimum of 1 hour). He must also open the vial of acid and hold it ready in his right hand.
A minute before punching his target, he must spend an action to activate his Radiant Soul Aasimar transformation, and spend an action and a bonus action cursing his target with the Hexblade’s Curse and Path to the Grave.
Finally, on the turn he punches, he spends his free object interaction to touch the acid in the vial until it causes damage, then casts Absorb Elements as a reaction from his Ring of Spell Storing. He spends his bonus action casting Banishing Smite, and then his action casting the cantrip Booming Blade. (He has cast three spells in one turn, but the only limitation on casting multiple spells per turn is that if he casts a spell as a bonus action, he may only cast a cantrip — like Booming Blade — with his action.)

The punch

Booming Blade requires a material component: a melee weapon worth at least 1 sp. Normally, using his arcane armor as a spellcasting focus would allow him to ignore material components, but this material component cannot be ignored because it has a cost. The Thunder Gauntlets from a suit of arcane armor have no assigned cost, but the basic leather armor costs 10 gp, so it’s a safe assumption that a magically-enhanced +1 Thunder Gauntlet would cost more than 1 sp. Upon casting the spell, Saitama makes a melee attack against a creature within 5 feet. At level 20, the cantrip adds an extra 3d8 thunder damage to the initial attack, and an additional 4d8 if the target moves on its next turn — but the latter damage will not count for this purpose because our goal is to annihilate the target with the first hit.
Assuming that his stealth and initiative checks have allowed Saitama to surprise his target and go first in the initiative order, he has advantage on his attack from Assassinate and gets +17 to the roll: +6 from his proficiency, +10 from his STR modifier, and +1 from the Enhanced Weapon infusion. The monsters with the highest AC are Tiamat and the Tarrasque, with an AC of 25 — with advantage and a +17 to hit, Saitama has an 88% chance of hitting, and any hit is an automatic critical hit from Assassinate. If a guaranteed hit is desired, we could give Saitama an Epic Boon of Combat Prowess, choosing to hit on a melee weapon attack once per short rest. At that point, the attack roll doesn’t even matter.

Damage

The 1d8 thunder damage from his Thunder Gauntlets is tripled to 3d8 by the Potion of Giant Size. The Gauntlets deal an extra 1d4 thunder damage from the Potion of Growth, an extra 2d6 thunder damage from the major beneficial properties of the Hand of Vecna and the Sword of Kas, and an extra 1d6 thunder damage from the Menacing Attack maneuver. The attack deals an extra 2d8 cold damage because it was made with a weapon wielded by the Hand of Vecna. We add an additional 6d8 force damage from Eldritch Smite, 5d10 force damage from Banishing Smite, 4d8 radiant damage from Divine Smite, 5d6 acid damage from Absorb Elements, and 3d8 thunder damage from Booming Blade.
Let’s total this up: 6d8+1d4+3d6 thunder + 2d8 cold + 6d8+5d10 force + 4d8 radiant + 5d6 acid damage
All these dice are doubled on the critical hit from Assassinate: 12d8+2d4+6d6 thunder + 4d8 cold + 12d8+10d10 force + 8d8 radiant + 10d6 acid damage
Now, counting the flat damage: 10 thunder damage from Saitama’s STR modifier on the Thunder Gauntlets, +1 thunder damage from the Enhanced Weapon infusion, +6 thunder damage from Hexblade’s Curse, and +2 thunder damage from the Dueling fighting style, for a total of +19 thunder damage. We also add 20 radiant damage from the Radiant Soul transformation.
Another preliminary total: 12d8+2d4+6d6+19 thunder + 4d8 cold + 12d8+10d10 force + 8d8+20 radiant + 10d6 acid damage
All the damage is doubled by the vulnerability inflicted by Path to the Grave: 24d8+4d4+12d6+38 thunder + 8d8 cold + 24d8+20d10 force + 16d8+40 radiant + 20d6 acid damage
This averages to 198 thunder + 36 cold + 218 force + 112 radiant + 70 acid damage, for a total of 634 damage on average in a single punch.
Anything that survives this formidable blow must then have more than 50 hit points remaining, or else it is banished to its home plane without a save by Banishing Smite (thus, Saitama's punch can effectively defeat creatures with up to 684 HP).
After two short rests, Saitama could theoretically do a Serious Punch again on the same day — minus the +40 radiant damage from Radiant Soul (doubled by Path to the Grave), the only ability used that requires a long rest to recharge. After a second Serious Punch, though, he’ll run out of third-level spell slots for the Divine Smite.

The targets (who survives?)

With the most hit points out of any monster in DND 5e, the Tarrasque has 676 HP, damage immunities to fire, poison, and bludgeoning/piercing/slashing damage from nonmagical attacks, three legendary resistances per day, advantage on saves against spells, can nullify or reflect ranged attack spells, and can terrify creatures within 120 feet with its Frightful Presence. None of this protects it from a single punch from our Caped Baldy. On 62% of possible damage rolls, that Tarrasque is getting sent back to its plane of origin, gibbering with fear: with a WIS modifier of +0, it has no chance of succeeding the DC 24 WIS save against Saitama’s Menacing Attack (of course, Tarrasques are immune to the frightened condition, but let’s ignore that because it’s funny).
However, this doesn’t quite count as killing the tarrasque in a single punch, since it’s banished but still alive (and returns after one minute if it’s not originally from another plane). Additionally, a several other monsters could definitely survive the punch — chief among them, Tiamat: Outside of being immune to acid and cold damage (reducing the damage by 106 points and dropping the remaining 528 total damage from the punch well below her total HP of 615), Tiamat is also immune to spells of level 6 or lower: thus completely nullifying the effects of both Booming Blade and Banishing Smite. However, as a fiend, Divine Smite does deal an extra d8 radiant damage against her. Still, eliminating Booming Blade and Banishing Smite drops the single punch damage to 382 on average, leaving Tiamat with 233 HP: more than a third of her health. Instead casting Banishing Smite and Booming Blade, Saitama could use his action to punch twice using the Thirsting Blade eldritch invocation, spending both his 5th-level Pact Magic spell slots on Eldritch Smites and both 3rd-level slots on Divine Smites. If Saitama managed to sneak up on Tiamat to surprise her and get the automatic critical hits from Assassinate, he would deal 3d8+1d4+3d6 thunder + 6d8 force + 5d8 radiant damage on each attack, doubled from the critical hit to 6d8+2d4+6d6 thunder + 12d8 force + 10d8 radiant damage, and a total of +19 thunder on both attacks and +20 radiant on the first. The first attack damage would be doubled from Path to the Grave, but the second would not. The first attack would deal 12d8+4d4+12d6+38 thunder + 24d8 force + 20d8+40 radiant damage, and the second 6d8+2d4+6d6+19 thunder + 12d8 force + 10d8 radiant; for a total damage of 553 on average, still 62 points short of Tiamat’s 615 total HP.
Other creatures that would survive:

• Sapphire Greatwyrms and Velomachus Lorehold — with immunities to thunder damage and HP totals of 507 and 487 respectively, they survive the 436 total non-thunder damage from Saitama’s Serious Punch. With 51 HP remaining on average, Velomachus also has a 53% chance of having enough HP to escape getting banished.
• Amethyst Greatwyrms and Tanazir Quandrix — with immunities to force damage and HP totals of 507 and 444 respectively, they survive the 416 total non-force damage from the Serious Punch. Tanazir is almost definitely getting banished, though.
• The Aspect of Tiamat and Aspect of Bahamut are immune to both fire and cold damage, reducing the Serious Punch to 528 damage — not enough to eliminate their 574 and 585 hit points, respectively. However, both Aspects might still fall victim to the Banishing Smite: 56% of damage rolls will deal enough damage to banish the Aspect of Tiamat, and 37% of rolls for the Aspect of Bahamut. Interestingly, banishing these monsters with the Banishing Smite might be better than reducing them to 0 HP, because dropping them to 0 would trigger their Chromatic Wrath / Platinum Brilliance traits, resetting their HP to 500, recharging their breath weapons and legendary resistances, and unlocking their Mythic Actions.
• Copper Greatwyrms are immune to acid damage, reducing the Serious Punch to 564 damage on average — allowing them to barely survive with 1 hit point left (out of their HP total of 565). They will survive on 52% of damage rolls, and almost certainly get banished if they do. However, on the 48% of damage rolls that succeed in reducing them to 0 HP, they will actually not get banished: instead, their Metallic Awakening will immediately trigger and will reset their HP to 450.
• Silver Greatwyrms have 565 HP and immunity to cold damage, but even without cold damage, the Serious Punch still deals 598 damage on average: enough to reduce them to 0 HP on 91% of damage rolls. Interestingly, this gives Silver Greatwyrms higher odds of surviving than Copper Greatwyrms, because they are far more likely to trigger the Metallic Awakening and reset their HP to 450 to escape banishment — rather than Copper Greatwyrms, which have better-than-even odds of surviving the initial punch but then getting banished for their trouble.
• The other 11 types of Greatwyrm not yet mentioned will also survive thanks the same reason as the Silver Greatwyrm: they can't survive the initial punch, but being reduced to 0 HP will trigger their Metallic/Chromatic/Gem Awakening traits to reset their HP to 400 or more, ironically allowing them to evade being banished. Of the 15 types of Greatwyrm, only Copper Greatwyrms have moderate odds of getting banished in a single strike — the others will either survive the first hit entirely, or get reduced to 0 hit points and trigger their Awakening to avoid getting banished.
• Zariel from Mordenkainen’s Tome of Foes and Archduke Zariel of Avernus from Descent into Avernus each have resistance to radiant damage, resistance or immunity to cold damage (respectively), and 580 hit points. However, they are fiends, causing the Divine Smite to add an additional 9 radiant damage on average (the 1d8 extra Divine Smite damage to fiends is doubled twice from the critical hit and Path to the Grave, but halved from Zariel’s resistance to radiant damage). Accounting for the resistance to radiant damage and the bonus Divine Smite damage to fiends, the punch deals 587 total damage. Then, subtracting 18 damage for cold resistance or 36 damage for cold immunity, Zariel survives with 11 HP and Archduke Zariel with 29 HP — both still very likely getting banished back to Avernus.
• No creature has resistance to thunder and more than 535 hit points to survive the punch, resistance to force damage and more than 525 hit points, or resistance to acid damage and more than 599 hit points. Only 10 creatures other than Zariel have resistances to thunder, cold, force, radiant, or acid damage and more than 400 HP: of those, Sul Khatesh, Rak Tulkhesh, Orcus, and the Demogorgon’s cold resistances reduce the damage by 18, but, as fiends, they take an additional 18 radiant damage from Divine Smite — and with 475, 478, 405, and 406/464 HP respectively (depending on the source book), they get easily annihilated by the Serious Punch. Tromokratis is resistant to both thunder and cold damage, reducing the Serious Punch by 117 damage, but with 409 HP, the Serious Punch still deals over 100 more points of damage than necessary to kill it. The Marut and the Ancient Amethyst Dragon are also only resistant to one of the damage types, which does not reduce the damage enough for them to survive.
• Many creatures have the Regeneration trait that allow them to survive and regain a certain amount of HP at the start of their turn even if they start their turn with 0 HP. However, taking radiant damage disables this trait for fiends, undead, and aberrations, and acid damage disables it for trolls and giants. Cold damage disables it for Tlexolotl and Vegepygmy, thunder damage for the Glasswork Golem, and spell damage for Wereravens. Four monsters have Regeneration traits that still work to bring them back from 0 HP after being hit by Saitama's punch: Loup Garou regenerate if not dealt damage with a silver weapon; the Jabberwock regenerates if not dealt slashing damage; and the Regenerating Black Pudding and Living Doll regenerate if not dealt fire damage (for the Wood Woad, banishment likely counts as no longer being “in contact with the ground” and therefore its Regeneration trait fails). None of these monsters have more than 300 HP, so the 634 damage from Saitama's Punch may be enough to destroy them by dealing more than double their max HP in a single instance of damage — however, Jeremy Crawford rules that massive damage is not enough to kill a monster with regeneration (https://youtu.be/1frsmP\_AzV0?t=2663).
• Some undead have an Undead Fortitude trait that allows them to drop to 1 HP instead of 0 on a save; however, these traits are disabled by both the fact that the Serious Punch deals radiant damage, is a critical hit (from Assassinate), and that they would have to succeed on a CON save with a DC of 5+the damage taken: DC 657 (when taking account the extra 18 radiant damage Divine Smite deals to undead).
• Vampires, Liches, and other monsters with the Rejuvenation trait may also be utterly destroyed by the punch, but survive by regenerating or gaining a new body later. However, we will still count them as having been killed by the punch, even if they didn’t fully die. Even if they return to bother Saitama, he can just destroy them again in a single punch.
• There may be other monsters with features that allow them to escape a single attack — if there are, they don't immediately come to mind.

Thus, our final list of 27 survivors of Saitama’s punch:

• Nullifies the punch (1): Tiamat
• Avoids banishment with 51-100 HP (3): Sapphire Greatwyrm, Amethyst Greatwyrm, Aspect of Bahamut
• Gets reduced to 0 but avoids banishment by resetting their HP through the Awakening trait (12): Silver Greatwyrm and 11 other types of Greatwyrm
• 50/50 odds of being banished (3): Velomachus Lorehold, Aspect of Tiamat, Copper Greatwyrm
• Likely banished, but still alive (4): Tarrasque, Tanazir Quandrix, Zariel and Archduke Zariel
• Reduced to 0 HP and banished, but regenerates (4): Loup Garou, Jabberwock, Regenerating Black Pudding, Living Doll

Saitama can kill all remaining 2,800+ monsters ever printed in a single punch.

Thank you for reading!

If you've gotten this far, thanks for sticking with me! If you have any ideas on how to squeeze out the last bits of damage to allow Saitama to one-hit kill any of the remaining 27 monsters, please comment to let me know!

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First Chapter
Chapter Fifteen
“Thank you, Ms. President, and Mr. Secretary-General. It’s my privilege to come and speak to everyone present during such a momentous time in human history. One which, I hope, will lead to a brighter future for us all…”
US President Correa’s boilerplate beginning flowed out as she scanned the room. Behind her rostrum sat a larger dais tiled with green marble, behind which sat the UN President, Secretary-General, and Under-Secretary-General. Two huge screens flanked the dais, and those screens now showed Correa’s face as she continued.
“…and we are committed to our country’s pledge to finding a peaceful and just way for Coalition technology to be incorporated worldwide, and to not attempt any reverse-engineering of our own. Make no mistake; we do not do this out of any sense of altruism or fairness, as pleasant as that may sound. We will hold this pledge sacred for the simple reason that, if the United States were to attempt such efforts the rest of the world would, without a doubt, find out. That, of course, would lead to a great instability.”
‘Great instability’ was diplomatic-speak for ‘the rest of the world then gangs up on the USA and then everything goes to hell’.
“I know there has already been a great deal of debate in this august hall as to the best way to proceed forward, in a fair and impartial manner. We believe that we have found what one might call a ‘trial run’ which will allow us to work out such matters.”
The general murmuring from the many semi-circular rows of desks in front of her increased.
“To begin with, during the first weeks after first contact we wanted to make sure our guests from the Coalition would not starve to death. Much like humanity’s own ships during the Age of Sail, Coalition exploration vessels store enough provisions for years…but such provisions never last. They have very advanced recycling, but mostly for water and even that is only a stop-gap measure. It is unknown even at this time as to how long it will take to repair the Exultant Finger of Rithro, and we did not want to risk the crew running out of food.
“Therefore, we undertook an emergency effort to have their ship’s medic examine various Earth foods to determine their compatibility with our guests’ varied biochemistries. I am pleased to report that there are quite a few Earth foodstuffs which are indeed compatible, although there are some specific items which act as allergens amongst some of the Coalition species. During these efforts, we did learn a bit about how their alien biochemistries work…information which has been duly published and is now openly available. We also began to get glimpses of something wonderful, and asked the Coalition crew for more details. They supplied us with some general ideas of what their medical technology can accomplish; I must emphasize that we do not possess any knowledge of how they can perform such miracles.”
Now the murmuring got quite a bit higher, but not quite to the point where they’d have to call for order.
“Yes, I use the word ‘miracles’ advisedly. For example, take Captain Sadaf. You have all seen her, and how she moves like a person in the prime of their life. Now. What if I told you that she is a little over four hundred years old?”
The murmuring died down into a shocked silence.
“Her species, the auhn, is no more long-lived than we are…but they are able to regenerate and remove the effects of aging. I hope the esteemed ambassadors can see what I am driving at. I propose that we set up a research institute, international in scope, to be placed at a neutral location which is still to be determined. The purpose of that institute will be to study and adapt Coalition medical technology for use in humans.”
Now the murmuring started again; she hoped they were actually listening instead of hatching side-deals with each other.
“You all have families and friends. I’m sure you have at least one family member, one good friend, who died of some horrible and unnecessary affliction. Think of what this means to the world, to us. It is also an excellent way to determine the inevitable issues and frictions which will arise from such a concerted international effort, and that, in turn, will inform our efforts in mutual reverse-engineering of other Coalition technology.
“I know this is, in many ways, a frightening time. Change can be frightening. But I am convinced that you will all know the right way forward, and that you will all see the need for us to unite in this matter, even if others may not be so clear-cut. I thank you for the opportunity to speak.”
As she stepped away from the rostrum, the UN President cleared his throat.
“We will now begin the debate on Madame President Correa’s proposal. Paper copies, with specifics of the proposal, are now being distributed to you all. We’ll now begin the debate period…yes, the gentleman from Portugal…?”
__________
Correa’s Chief of Staff was a shorter, tubby man with an olive complexion by the name of Pablo Rosas. He and Correa sat in a White House conference room, staring at a big screen which now showed the results of the UN vote. “Well, I suppose that went about as well as we could expect,” said Rosas.
“Yep. I was surprised they even agreed with our asking them to kick in some money.”
Rosas chuckled. “Keep in mind that all of this new medical tech will be available for anyone patent-free. Should be air-tight legally, since nobody here on Earth invented it; we’re merely adapting it. I think that was the sweetener we needed to get it passed.”
The president gave a brief nod, then tapped a few keys on the controls in front of her. The screen now showed a world map. “Now we just have to figure out where to put the damn thing without everyone getting butt-mad about it.”
“Hmm.” Rosas laced his fingers over his substantial gut as he regarded the map. “Someplace not ‘the usual’, then.”
Correa growled in frustration. “I keep thinking Switzerland, but I know there’s gonna be a lot of shit flung about that it’s too European-centric. Taiwan would be great; they’ve got both a good tech base and excellent transport infrastructure.”
“But way too controversial, for obvious reasons,” replied Rosas. “Japan?”
“China will, again, kick up a fuss. Huh. New Zealand?”
“That might work. They tend to be more neutral…but then again some might say they’re in too close with Australia, and that this whole effort is too Western-centric.” His eyes flicked back to north on the map. He was about to move his gaze elsewhere, but then he paused. “What about Iceland?”
“Iceland?” Correa almost scoffed, then looked more thoughtfully at the map. “Okay, they’re a NATO member which is a minus. But they tend to remain mostly neutral, which is a plus. Decent transportation infrastructure…don’t we have a naval air base there?”
“I think so, let me check…” Rosas tapped at his phone. “Hey, Jack? What can you tell me about any US naval air bases in Iceland? Just the highlights.” After a couple of minutes, he responded with a curt, “Okay, that’s enough, thanks.”
He put his phone away. “We kinda-sorta have one, at a place called Keflavik. The base there used to be a lot bigger during the Cold War. Then we shut it down after the Soviets were no longer a going concern. Iceland uses it now, and they allow us to fly submarine-search aircraft out of there, but a few years ago they nixed the DOD’s request to rebuild it into a more permanent base.”
“That does work in their favor. It makes for better optics if they’re known for keeping NATO at arm’s length.”
Rosas sat up. “Think the UN will go for it?”
“We can only try. I’ll have our ambassador in Reykjavik make some discreet inquiries, let’s see if they’d be okay with our proposing them as a candidate.”
The Chief of Staff smiled. “If it goes through, this institute will be pumping well north of a billion dollars per year into their economy. That should make it more than ‘okay’.
__________
Agent Cécile Savoie sat in a secure-location breakroom, silently grumbling as she held an as-yet un-drunk mug of coffee in her hands. As the agent-in-charge of the security detail during the Camp David incident, she’d been put on administrative leave, right alongside every other agent who’d been there. But it wasn’t like she had much down time; the inquiry board into that incident now summoned her damn near every other day for yet another round of tedious questioning.
“Hey,” said Hanson as he strolled in, looking just as sour as she felt.
She looked up in surprise. “Hey yourself. I thought you were assigned to the alien detail.”
“I was,” he said as he seated himself across the circular table from her. “Guess being in Alabama when the shitshow went down wasn’t far enough away to be completely out of suspicion. I just finished running my own gauntlet. But the rumor is, I’m getting it easy compared to everyone who was at Camp David, including the special forces people. Especially you.”
“Yeah, it’s pretty much a colonoscopy every day,” she muttered. “Going over the timeline, where I was at which times, who I had direct line of sight on, who I was in radio contact with.” She finally sipped her coffee.
Hanson’s sour expression deepened. “Do you really think it was one of us?”
She sighed. “It has to be. My gut tells me that there’s more than one mole and I told the inquiry board as much. The fuckers who got in knew too much about our patrol patterns, where everyone was, when they’d have a clear shot at an infil. That means someone with access to our methods and comms, and as to the latter we don’t use CB radios.”
The other agent leaned back. “Fuck. I wish I knew why any of us would do that. We’re supposed to be quiet professionals, not frothing radicals.”
Savoie turned the mug in her hands. “Not to tell tales out of school but, through the whisper network, they’ve been leaning hard on the captured dudes from the attack. Apparently one of their main ‘objections’,” and here she made some one-handed air quotes, “is that they think the whole Breaker thing is a ruse. It’s all smoke and mirrors, so that we’ll beg the Coalition to come and save us. And then…well, it gets vague after that but I guess they claim that at best we’ll get turned into the galactic equivalent of a Native American reservation. Worst case, we all get harvested for our precious bodily fluids.”
Hanson stared at her for a moment in disbelief. “That is, if you will forgive the uncouth term, utterly retarded. For chrissake, the Hubble got some beautiful shots of their ship once they’d spun that shield around to reveal it to us. I mean, I’m no spacecraft expert but even I could tell it had gotten the shit pounded out of it.”
She responded with a shrug. “Hey, Flat Earthers are still a thing.”
“Flat Earthers don’t stage FUCKING mortar attacks in our nation’s capital,” snapped Hanson. Then he subsided and spoke more softly. “Sorry, I shouldn’t be so on edge. This whole thing just pisses me off.”
“Join the club,” said Savoie as she sipped more coffee. “I just don’t get it, though.”
Hanson made a gentle ‘continue’ wave of his hand.
She leaned forward. “Okay. Our comrades in the CIA managed to identify the four who made it into the compound. They were all mercenaries, each with at least ten or fifteen years of experience in kicking ass around some of the worst hot spots in the world. Syria, Burma, bunch of places in Africa. One of ‘em even turned out to be ex-Wagner group.”
“Okay?” It was a leading single-word question, but not an unkind one.
“So why was the rest of the attack made up of nothing but a bunch of goddamn shit-kickers? And that includes the aborted attempt in Decatur. I’ve seen the files of those we rounded up in the Camp David attack. They were all low-life idiots just banging around, maybe they might have once held a gun in their lives. Hell, from what I’ve heard, the shootings that triggered the alarm at Camp David were an accident; those intruders were supposed to sneak around that patrol, not kill them. They all had the same top-of-the-line kit, so we know whoever is behind this has deep pockets. Why not hire an entire bunch of competent people instead of doing it onesy-twoseys?”
“It is a puzzle.” Hanson got up and set a styrofoam cup of water into the nearby microwave. As the cup turned within its electromagnetic prison, he leaned against the nearby counter and pondered her question. “Maybe the team in the woods was intended just as a distraction?”
“That’s what I thought at first, but then I reconsidered. I mean, what if the four who went in failed? You’d still need a proper backup plan. Same thing with the Decatur bunch. By the way, did they ever catch them?”
Hanson let out a dark chuckle. “Decatur PD found a pile of vests and rifles, hastily wiped down. They were able to pull a few partial prints off of ‘em. My guess is they’ve fled to the proverbial four winds, hoping to lay low for the rest of their lives. We’ll nab ‘em eventually.”
The microwave dinged and he retrieved his hot water, then pulled a tea bag out of his jacket pocket as he re-seated himself.
Savoie smiled. “I never figured you for a tea guy.”
He unwrapped the bag and with a bit of ceremony dunked it into his cup. “Well, I used to be a coffee guy, but my gut doesn’t agree with the acidity.”
“We do have tea here, you know.” She pointed to the storage bins behind him.
“Yeah, but it’s cheap-ass stuff. The brand I like is expensive, but worth it…” Hanson’s eyes widened as he trailed off.
She raised an eyebrow. “Hanson? Do you smell burnt toast?”
“They couldn’t afford it,” he said in a near-whisper.
Savoie was about to tell him to stop being overly dramatic, then she realized he might be on to something and that she didn’t dare distract him. “Keep talking.”
He leaned forward, his forearms on the table. “Okay. Imagine you’re a hard-bitten mercenary. You’ve been in the literal shit, in every nasty conflict anyone cares to name. Somehow, someone finds you and comes to you. They say ‘hey, these aliens are bad news, do you want to kill them?’ Even if you, as the hypothetical mercenary, are down with the cause…”
“From what the intruders were yelling, they were,” said Savoie.
“Yeah but even then, our mystery financier is asking you to infil and exfil out of one of the most heavily guarded pieces of real estate on the planet. Oh, and kill a bunch of special-forces-maybe and aliens-definitely in between. What do you do then?”
She replied with a grim smile. “If I’m that mercenary, then I ask for a metric fuck-ton of money. And there were four of them, they would have all done the same. Hell, they must have been doing collective bargaining.”
Hanson dunked his tea bag as he thought it through. “Okay, so our mystery mastermind has a lot of money, but not billions on hand to hire a literal army of hard cases. Huh. So those other dipshits might indeed have been a distraction.”
“Maybe. They must have also spent quite a bit on the mortar attack. That wasn’t made by some hobbyist in their bedroom, they knew what they were doing. Given that nobody saw them set up the launcher or leave, they were more pro.” Savoie hoped that the FBI’s efforts to track the various mortar components turned up something soon. Thus far, those efforts were bogged down; as it turned out, quite a few companies had ordered the identified components, and tracking the subsequent second-hand purchases was time-consuming.
“And those mortar-making pros would be more expensive.” Hanson sipped a bit of tea. “Did they ever get anything off of the launcher itself?”
“Sadly, no. Turns out the whole damned thing was homemade, constructed out of tubing and other off-the-shelf components. It was also wiped down thoroughly, no prints. Like I said, pros.”
“But limited in resources,” said Hanson. “Which explains one of the things that’s bugged me. Namely, that our OPFOR didn’t use some proper artillery. If they have a couple of moles in the Secret Service, then it should be easy to recruit and pay some military dudes to slip ‘em some gear and alter the logs. They could stow a howitzer inside a semi-tractor-trailer. You could park that thing anywhere up to 25 miles away. Use a single 155mm Excalibur GPS-guided munition, boom. That would have pretty much obliterated the stage and everyone on it. Then you just re-stow the howitzer and toodle off all innocent-like, right when everyone is freaking the hell out.”
“So they couldn’t afford that type of arty strike,” she said. “Or they simply didn’t have the contacts to pull that off. Hmm. I wonder if our moles are getting paid at all?”
Hanson resumed his thousand-yard stare. “The mortar attack must have been planned first. The other two attacks feel much more like rush jobs.”
“Eh? Oh, I get it. Sadaf’s speech was known well in advance. It was going to be one of her first big public appearances since the initial presidential speech. They were broadcasting it online to the world. Having her get turned into chunky red salsa, in real time, would be one helluva statement. So that’s what they focused on.” She drank a bit more coffee, and now it was time for her eyes to widen. “Our mole or moles didn’t arrive at Camp David until after Sadaf’s speech was announced.”
“That…oh, yeah, that makes sense. Originally the mortar attack is the OPFORs’ only focus, but yet somehow they’ve suborned one or two Secret Service agents and they have ‘em in their back pocket. Then one, or better yet both, of the moles gets assigned to the Camp David detail, and they realize that now that they have a golden opportunity to get at the other aliens as well. So they go off and hire four pros for the actual attack inside, plus a bunch of chucklefucks to act as a distraction, because that’s all they can afford since the four pros are asking for some serious money.”
Savoie leaned forward. “When did Chao and Grakosh leave Camp David?”
“It was, ah, three? No, four days after we got everyone settled, both the aliens and the special forces types.”
“Okay, so then the OPFOR gets word, courtesy of our moles, that one of the aliens is now heading to Alabama. But now they’re stretched so thin that they can’t afford anything other than to hire another bunch of dipshits to make a run at them and hope for the best.”
“And then the second bunch lets the FNG drive.”
They both laughed, but that humor settled down as they both thought through the chain of inference.
“It is pretty thin,” said Savoie at last. “There’s a lot of assumptions in there.”
“Yeah. But I do like the idea of our moles getting assigned at the last minute.”
She rubbed her forehead. “We had a bunch of new people come in when they decided to stow the Rithro crew there. Seven, no eight in all.”
“It’s a place to start,” said Hanson. He finished his tea. “C’mon, let’s see if we can get a meeting with the inquiry board.”
__________
A little while later and not very far away, three people sat in a well-lit but otherwise deadly dull room. At least the chairs were somewhat comfortable. Matt and Martinez sat at two chairs against one wall, while across from them McCoy sat sprawled sideways on another with a foul look on her face. She glowered at the far beige-painted wall. “This completely sucks. Why can’t we have our phones? I could at least play some mahjong.”
“This is a secure location, Corporal,” replied Matt. “Ixnay on the onephays.”
Martinez’s leg jittered. “How long are we gonna sit here? They said they’d call us in, like, an hour ago!”
“Dunno, it’s some kind of last-minute interview thing,” replied Matt with Zen-like calm.
The corporal looked over at Matt. “I don’t get you, man.”
Matt grinned. “Nobody gets me. I’m like the wind, baby!”
“That’s not…I mean, I watched you open up a dude like he was a bag of fuckin’ Doritos using nothing but a fuckin’ knife. Now you’re being all Caine from ‘Kung Fu’.”
“It’s good to know that the classics are still appreciated,” said Matt.
Martinez pointed at him. “If you start calling me ‘Grasshopper’ I will shoot you.”
McCoy turned her glare to the ceiling. “Maybe it’s a psychological test. They want to see if we crack under pressure and start yakking secrets.”
“I mean, I’m sure they’re recording us right now,” replied Matt. “But it’s merely as a precaution. I am also five-nines certain that none of us are suspects. We weren’t integrated into the compound’s overall security, and thus it would be unlikely that we could have let our four attackers in.”
“Not to mention, we were the ones to kill ‘em,” added Martinez. “Well, except for the one that Takh took care of.”
“Yep. This is…I won’t call it a formality, but the board just wants to know where you were and what you saw. Walk them through your personal timelines, understand? Tell them only what you know. If you don’t know something, then say so.”
McCoy turned herself around so that she now sprawled the other way. “This whole bullshit just bugs me. Takh and the others are off with a bunch of strangers and I…I mean, we aren't there to help protect them.”
Matt and Martinez shared a meaningful glance. “From what I heard, Takh is quite capable of taking care of himself,” said the latter with a grin. “You told me he pitched that one dude across the room like he was throwing a softball.”
For once, the petite corporal looked a bit flustered. “Yeah, but, I mean, what if some other potential bad guy gets the drop on him with a gun? I don’t like not being there. I just wanna know that he’s okay. I should be there, just to make sure.”
The smaller man snapped his fingers in the face of the taller, who sighed and took out his wallet. With great ceremony, Matt pulled out a five-dollar bill and placed it upon the now-upraised palm of Martinez.
“Told ya,” said Martinez with a grin.
She sat up and glared at them both. “That doesn’t mean anything! Takh is a good guy!”
“Nobody said he wasn’t,” replied Matt as he stowed his wallet. “He is indeed a good guy.”
“Yeah, seriously, we’re glad you two hooked up,” added Martinez. “Takh’s solid. Hell, I’d let him date my sister.”
“I. Am. Not. Hooked Up. With ANYONE.” McCoy now looked furious enough to chew nails.
Martinez stroked his chin. “Kissing might be a problem, though.”
Matt performed a similar chin-stroking action. “Hmm, indeed, Corporal, I do believe it might be a serious issue. One has all of those mandibles to contend with.” He hooked his fingers next to his mouth in an approximation of an udhyr’s face. “Still, I think that, with enough will and effort, one could figure it out. Like the man said, life finds a way.”
“But how much tongue is he packing?” posed Martinez. “You know what the man also says. Big dude, big tongue. Could make things more interesting, all around.”
The woman did not look amused. “Martinez, Toke? You are now both officially gigantic flatulating assholes.”
“C’mon, McCoy!” protested Martinez. “Think of it this way. A few years from now, let’s say we filthy humans are now part of the Coalition and I’m at some meet ‘n greet, and I just so happen to spy me an oh-so-very-fiiine udhyr mamacita from across the room. Now, I wanna do my bit for my species and approach her, and get some good old inter-species cultural interaction going on. But there’s all sorts of questions. How do I compliment her without insulting her culture? How am I supposed to get in good with her? How do the mechanics work? How do the various bits line up? We need details! You’re at the tip of the spear, we all need good intel!”
McCoy slumped back into her seat. “Over seven hundred billion Dimmadollars of defense spending, and yet somehow I wind up stuck in a room with you two fuckos…oh, by the way, Toke,” she added, pointing a finger at Matt, “why the hell can you and Sarge never go back to Okinawa?”
“Nice distraction, McCoy,” said Martinez. “My guess is some sort of wet-work shit.”
Matt just smiled. “Oh for fuck’s sake, I don’t kill everyone I meet. I was a Second LT at the time, managed to somehow leapfrog my way into officer ranks all the way from enlisted. Anyways, the Okinawa affair was merely a case of, well, one particular case of rye whiskey. The good sergeant…was he a sergeant then? Oh yeah, we had done some other stuff I can’t tell you about in someplace I can’t tell you where, and we were celebrating Shaw getting his third stripe. We’d got ahold of the previously-mentioned case of whiskey and then we began toasting to each other’s good health. We did a lot of toasting. Quite a lot of toasting. As you can imagine, the toasting went on and on until we, um, well we did some unwise things. It started out with us sparring-for-fun with each other in public and escalated from there. No locals were harmed, and nothing we did was hella illegal, or I would’ve never made Captain. Buuut the local government would definitely throw a shitfit if me or, God forbid, both of us set foot back on the island.” He chuckled. “Hell, the Okinawan customs people probably still have both of our pictures taped up inside their booths with a big old sign saying ‘DO NOT ADMIT THIS PERSON, YOU FOOL’ written above them.”
“What did you do?” asked Martinez. His eyes were big and soulful, like a kid asking for yet one more story before bedtime.
Matt shrugged. “I mean, I don’t remember much for obvious reasons. I’m almost sure we didn’t piss on any monuments, that would have definitely been cause for a serious demotion. We did do a number on some shrubbery, that I do remember. We decided it needed to be trimmed back, and so we did so. Using our bare hands. Seemed like a good idea at the time.”
A fearsome light came into McCoy’s eyes. “Martinez, do you know what this means?”
He looked at her all uncertain. “Um, Toke and Sarge have cast-iron livers?”
“No, you fool. Blackmail material.”
Matt pointed back at her. “Hey, now, I told you that in confidence. Besides, Shaw has a lot more to contend with right now.”
The reminder of the sergeant’s current crippled state brought the elevated atmosphere of the room back down. McCoy nodded as her smile faded. “Right. Hey, did you see the Prez’s speech at the UN?”
“Yep,” said Matt. “From what I’ve read, the political wrangling after it seems pretty tame compared to the usual.”
Martinez snorted. “No shit. Did either of you see the laundry list of shit that we might be able to do? Anti-aging, limb regrowth, cancer treatments which work well and which don’t half-kill the patient…hell, maybe even Alzheimer’s could be in our rear-view mirror. The grand high muckity-mucks are falling all over themselves to get that out into the world, for themselves if nobody else.”
“You’re way too cynical, Martinez,” said Matt.
“Oh fuck off. What if…okay, I know this sounds like a cheesy sci-fi concept, but what if they hoard all of the good shit for themselves and we peons get just the crumbs?”
Matt lapsed back into his meditative demeanor. “In that case, my dear corporal, you or I or McCoy or someone like us will show those hypothetical elites that, while they are indeed long-lived, they are not in fact immortal.”
The trio fell into silence for a few minutes. Then Martinez leaned over towards Matt. “Ah, a little birdie told me you were involved in questioning the prisoners we nabbed at Camp David.”
“I merely facilitated certain conversations,” replied Matt.
Martinez sighed. “What the fuck does that mean?”
“Ask me no questions and I will tell you no lies…Corporal.”
McCoy let out a growl. “Well, I heard these terrorist assholes are saying that the Breakers aren’t real, that it’s all fake videos from the Coalition.”
“Just to play devil’s advocate,” said Matt, “our AI image and video generation is already getting to the point where, soon, we puny humans could manufacture such evidence.”
“What?” Martinez looked as if he was about to launch himself at Matt.
Matt held up a calming hand. “I’m not saying it is fake. The Hubble pics are damned convincing.”
Martinez hiked up one foot to place it on his seat, then rested his chin on his knee. “Fuck. I guess it didn’t convince everyone.” He mused for a few moments. “Wait. What if we made it even more convincing?”
“How?” asked Matt.
“We send some humans up to the Rithro. Two or three at least. The boats can still make it up to the ship, right?”
For once Matt looked uncertain. “I think so? Dunno how many times they can come and go without recharging, we’ll have to ask ‘em.”
“Right, so we set up an even better publicity stunt than the Hubble pics. Choose a few people, from all over the world. We have ‘em travel up to the Rithro, take pics and video up close showing the damage. Even take ‘em inside the ship and get a full tour, maybe…if the crew is okay with that, of course.”
“Huh.” Matt sat back and pondered the idea. “That’s a really good idea, Martinez. I guess you aren’t as dumb as you look.”
The corporal responded with a slight smile at the verbal jab. “We’d need to choose the right people, though.”
“They’d have to be trustworthy…or at least someone that the entire world will consider trustworthy,” said Matt.
“Well known,” added McCoy. She no longer looked vengeful. “With recognizable faces and voices, and then they can go on all the talk shows after and say that, yes indeed, I got a tour of the ship and it is indeed quite banged up.”
Martinez stared at the far wall. “Some kind of celebrity? Heh. You think Tom Cruise would be up for it?”
Matt laughed. “That beautiful maniac? Hell, he’d insist on shooting an entire movie up there, with at least one action scene where he’s hanging off of the outside of the ship.”
They all smiled at the resulting mental image.
“Chao could work,” said McCoy into the silence. “She’s kind of a celebrity now. After all, she was the first human to come into contact with aliens, eh?” She gave Matt a big and very un-subtle wink.
To skirt the rather…unconventional methods used to achieve a positive First Contact, Matt’s role had been very much demoted in the official story. Now every recounting of the tale included a bit of ‘…oh, and there was also another person who stumbled across our brave woman in the midst of her attempts at informational exchange with the aliens…” His exact identity was also not published, under the screen of ‘he wishes to remain anonymous’.
“Oh bite me, McCoy, it’s fun,” replied Matt. He waggled his eyebrows. “Besides, I work better in the shadows!” He threw his forearm across his face like a half-assed Count Dracula trying to hide behind his cape.
Then he dropped his arm. “Yeah, Chao would be good as a current social-media darling. Of course, she might not want that. She strikes me as more of the wallflower type, for the most part.”
“We need more people,” said Martinez, as he stared at the floor. “Chao might be good on her own, but she’s got that motor-mouth talking thing when you get her going. It’s one or the other. Either she’s trying to shrink into a corner and take up as little space as possible, or suddenly you’re getting pulled into another corner for a doctoral dissertation on how minimal-energy transfer-orbits work.”
Matt pondered for a moment. “Wait, when did she do that? I never sat through one of those lectures.”
Martinez looked away and…well, Matt hoped that their supposed overlords were indeed recording this particular moment in time because the hard-bitten Hispanic special-forces corporal actually blushed.
McCoy, of course, realized a golden opportunity for payback and immediately pounced. “Why, Corporal Martinez,” she purred. “Doooo tell us. When did Chao Me Chu, heh, pull you into a corner? Hmmm?”
“She’s…she’s just real nice, that’s all,” replied Martinez. “I asked her a couple of questions, and she answered them. That’s all. We both love classic sci-fi, like Asimov and shit. I guess we bonded over that.”
Matt cleared his throat. “Aaaaand may I remind you two and everyone listening in that we have all been cooped up nuts-to-butts for awhile? Don’t mistake familiarity for romantic bullshit.” He pointed over at Martinez. “But you. If you can follow at least half of what she talks about, then you are absolutely without-a-single-fucking-doubt wasted as a corporal, even if you’re in a low-drag high-speed outfit like this. You hear me?”
“Um, yes sir.” It was the first time in McCoy’s memory that anyone had addressed Matt as befitting his perhaps-former rank.
“Good. You get your ass into college, somehow. You’re a smart guy, you’ll figure all that shit out. And as for Chao? Just give it room to breathe. Let her know you’re interested, but don’t press the matter.”
“Let her know?” For once Martinez looked completely lost. “How do I…” he trailed off. “I mean, I like her…and yeah, I mean I like her in that way, but she’s so damn smart and pretty and I’m just some dipshit meathead.”
“Hey, don’t sell yourself short,” said Matt. “You’re our dipshit meathead.”
McCoy’s vengeful smile faded. “Martinez…no, Luca.”
Martinez looked up in surprise at her use of his first name.
She continued. “Just talk to her. Neither of you have any clue as to what ‘normal’ social interactions look like. In your case, it’s because you’ve been a soldier for all of your adult life. In her case, it’s because she’s, well, because she’s Chao. So just walk up to her and be straightforward. Trust me, it’ll be like a breath of fresh air for her to not have to navigate social cues. Just say something like ‘Hey, I really like you, do you like me and do you want to go get a coffee sometime’? Start with that. Chao’s good people, the worst thing she’ll do is say no. She won’t yell at you or talk shit about you online. Buuuut, some sixth sense is telling me she won’t say no to getting some coffee with ya.”
Matt smiled. “McCoy, I think you might have a calling after you leave the military.”
She snorted. “Oh yeah, I’ll hang up my match-making shingle on the internet and start raking in the big bucks. Martinez is right, though. If we try to do a publicity stunt up at the Rithro, then we’ll need somebody alongside Chao to win the world over. Somebody well-known, but preferably someone not in the traditional Western pop-culture sphere. That’ll make it more palatable…”
Her voice trailed off and she stared into space. The two men now looked at each other in genuine concern until she spoke again a few moments later.
“Guys? I think I just had the best idea ever.”

[←Chapter 54] [Cover Art] [My Links] [Index] [Discord] [Subreddit] [Chapter 56→]
The silence that hung over the tent was absolute, with only the slight wind in the bows breaking it up. Naia sat with the faintest of smiles tugging at his lips.
“And what, exactly, is that meant to imply?” he said, the smile coming out in full.
“Plainly, then - it’s foolhardy to send your most valuable assets into the fire with an under equipped force,” said Efrain, his patience with this game already up.
“Yes, it must,” Naia said, “alas, the mystery of the church is not to be readily questioned, especially if one wants to reach a position of understanding it.”
‘It was an open secret among those in higher society’ Efrain translated.
“Then why you?” he said, “you hardly seem like an uninformed man.”
“Allow me to divulge a little secret, Efrain, though it must not go outside this tent,” said Naia, “originally, the crusade was to be lead by a lesser noble’s son, who, I unfortunately must say, is not in the favour of society at the moment.”
‘It was doomed from the start so they elected to kill two birds with one stone.’
“And yet, here we are,” said Efrain.
“Indeed. Me and mine saw it for the honour it was. Frankly I was shocked that nobody else did.”
“I see. A lapse of judgement among nobles? I’d never thought I’d see the day.”
“Far be it from me to speak ill of the administrators of our great society. Their duties keep them quite busy. As for my superiors, how could they not take notice? The church was asking for armed men, afterall.”
“And out of all the people they could’ve sent, they sent the young commander with ‘unorthodox’ recruits.”
“Why, they thought it was a great way to prove myself, as did I.”
“It must be hard,” said Efrain, “getting such a difficult job assigned to you.”
“I do what I must, though, I must admit this has had its fair share of headaches. Wonderful surprises too.”
Efrain stopped for a moment, to consider the conclusion that all of this pointed to. It was something so large, so at odds with everything he understood about the church, that it seemed almost impossible. But he had to be sure, absolutely sure that they were on the same page.
He put up his hand onto the table, and felt magic return to him. It was stronger, more definite than before, almost… wilder. Pushing that sensation aside, he remembered crowded inns and temples, the clamour of people, all fading into the background. The air around the pair shimmered ever so slightly, and Naia blinked.
“What did you just do?” he said, looking around.
“Nothing major. Stay in close, or it’ll break. Our conversation will be just a little less intelligible for prying ears.”
“Ah. Useful,” said the captain, nodding in appreciation.
“Hardly,” Efrain said, “anyone with any knowhow could break this with ease. I hope you don’t have another secret mage hiding in your retinue who’d listen in.”
“I’d be surprised,” said Naia.
“Very well,” Efrain said, leaning forward and preparing to drop the axe, “so, why is the church so eager to get rid of its oh-so-special Bequeathed?”
The silence returned once more, slightly distorted through the muffling charm Efrain had cast.
“You’re certain that this,” Naia said, waving around them, “is intact?”
“Quite. Answer the question, commander,” he said, “perhaps they’re not as valuable as I was led to believe.”
Naia sat for a few moments, mulling over the blunt truth, then took a deep breath.
“They are valuable. Incredibly so. They are living, breathing symbols of the faith, but that’s not all.”
Efrain nodded, waiting for the captain to continue.
“If half the stories of their battle prowess is true, then they are golden military assets. Though they haven’t been used as such for a very long time.”
“Ah,” Efrain said, as the pieces began to fall into place, “so that’s why they sent you.”
“I may or may not have been selected for this reason,” he said, the smile more dry than knowing.
“And if anything went wrong, if the precious Bequeathed came back with all these strange ideas about the church, they could blame the unorthodoxy of the commander.”
Something twisted in Naia’s smile - Efrain had touched on something painful.
“Precisely,” he said, “although I would like to believe that they chose me because they knew I’d avoid doing things so crudely.”
“So, they want you to… what, drive a wedge between the Bequeathed and the church? Subtly, of course.”
“You know, I was planning to tell you this all after you agreed to join me,” Naia said flatly.
“Ha!” Efrain said, “age and experience, young man.”
“Clearly,” Naia said, spreading his arms in defeat, “so, I stand before you, uncloaked. What do you think?”
“I think that there would be at least one member of the church disguised in your retinue, no?”
Naia’s smile grew cold and thin at the mention.
“The man wouldn’t listen to reason. We counselled him to stick with our company, but he had other, more pious ideas about wandering in the wild forest.”
Efrain nodded - he hadn’t really expected anything else.
“And what about the paladins, do they suspect anything?” he said, sitting back.
“Lillian is of high birth. I don’t doubt she hasn’t heard something that might make her suspicious. Niche might’ve but he’s… well stupid would be a disservice to both of them. Niche is certainly more naive than Lillian. As for Sphernt, she’s vanished, but, of course, you wouldn’t know her.”
“Another paladin?” Efrain groaned, trying to drive home the exasperation to cover him.
“Indeed, and far less pleasant than the others,” Naia laughed, “I know, a charming prospect. She was bullheaded, refused to listen or wait, so I sent her on ahead. As far as I know she’s buried under a snowdrift somewhere. We were going to search for her, but Aya’s finding threw everything into disarray, even her fraternity dropped it.”
Efrain almost let out an audible sigh of relief, but he managed to catch himself at the last moment.
“Well, in any case that makes your ultimate job easier, if you so choose to join me,” Naia said.
“Hold up,” said Efrain, “let me guess. You can’t act because questioning the authority of the church would compromise your personal position, as well as make the children suspicious. Given that I am potentially the most unorthodox person you could employ, you would use me to get to the children, and then foist the blame on me if anything went wrong.”
“Phrased it better than I could,” Naia said.
“Well, I can certainly see the appeal,” Efrain said dryly, “but what makes you think I would agree to that? Say, hypothetically, I went all the way to the silver city with you. You suddenly blame me for corrupting the children, then its my head.”
“A fair point, but consider - I am so close to being outcast that I need you, and if the children spoke out in your defence, they might well eclipse my influence. In addition, who would it reflect badly on if I did so? That would only worsen my position by leaps and bounds.”
“Fine,” Efrain said, “so what role did you have for me?”
“Oh that? Simple. You’ve been doing it already by most accounts,” Naia said, “teach them magic.”
Efrain stopped to consider it for a moment - no doubt he’d been briefed in full after the church incident. The fact that Naia hadn’t executed the mage for that alone spoke volumes to his intentions.
“And if, if, I were to take you up on this offer, well, first off, how far would this arrangement go? Secondly, how would I get around the paladins? I imagine they’ll be hostile.”
“That would be your job. From the sound of it, you’ve already got Aya on your side. Arrange meetings, teach her subtly - I’m sure someone of your ‘age and experience’ could figure something out. As for how long, if you have no desire to come to Angorrah, why not until we set sail? That should give you ample time.”
“And what’s in it for me, then?” he said, “Seems that I’m taking an awful lot of risk for simple promises.”
“What, a prospective general as a friend is not enough?” laughed Naia.
“Prospective. I’m not inclined to weigh reward on the whims of other unknown people,” Efrain snorted.
“A reasonable concern, though it’s only a week or two of work for a potential lifetime of benefits.”
“Granted. And what are you to say if I did not find the prospect of using children as pieces appealing?”
Naia arched an eyebrow at this, but the smile remained.
“This is the world we live in. In a way, if they should happen to throw their lot in with us, as it were, they’ll be getting a better life. The army is not quick to dispose of such valuable tools, unlike the more capricious elements of the church. They would not have to live by scripture and ceremony.”
“By throwing them at enemies, until they’re spent?” Efrain said.
The silence in the tent took on another character, something colder and heavier.
“You’ve said your knowledge of Angorrah was out-of-date. Do you know what they did to bring the merchant cities of the coast in line?”
Efrain shook his head.
“It’s quite simple. The palaces of Ennen’alla? Smokey marble with brass accents. Beautiful, beautiful buildings. Angorrah chose them to be their examples - now they’re little more than ruins and dust. From the other cities, rather than go to war, they offered up noble children as wards. I’m sure you can imagine; Hundreds, thousands of days, living under suspended sentences? A sword hanging over your head, waiting, begging to fall, based on the slightest provocation you have no control over.”
“This is supposed to be a positive comparison?”
“The Bequeathed, whether or not they and their guardians realise it, are living under the exact same sentence. Welcoming them back into the church might delay it for a time. The military is ruthless, I won’t deny, but it’s interested in service. Which is better? That the children are a pawn of the faith, used in political games across the continent, liable to be sent to a bitter end based on whim? Or, they live a tough but honoured life, and, in time, might rise to see the power and freedom to dictate their own destiny through generalship?”
“I can see why they sent you, commander,” Efrain said, “you’ve got quite the tongue.”
“I offer simple truths in pretty prose, that’s all,” Naia said, “if you want to look out for their wellbeing, then it might be best you align with me anyways. As for other rewards, I’m a commander, which comes with privileges. If you want gold or valuables, I can probably get them with time. Access to influence, knowledge? Those are easy enough, with the right friends, which I’ve made a point of making. All this potential for a few days of work, Efrain.”
The cloth rustled slightly in the breeze.
“And I’ll be free to go, alive, unharmed, not immediately killed for knowing your secret?” Efrain said.
“Guaranteed.”
Efrain examined the man’s face in depth, noting the lines that gave away his age. The dark hair with just a hint of blue mingling with the black, although whether that was dye or somehow natural he could barely guess. It was a dangerous gambit, predicated on the word of a man who by his own confession was willing to murder and scheme to get what he wanted. Still, he couldn’t deny the sway of the promise - a general of Angorrah who owed him a personal favour, that would be a very potent tool indeed.
This was again, assuming the man kept any kind of faith, which Efrain had mixed evidence to show for it. Still, if he was only going as far as the port, that would be fairly safe, or so he hoped. Maybe perhaps, if he could gain some trust with the paladins, play them off eachother…
This was getting too complicated for his taste, and the dangers of a company of soldiers around him didn’t sweeten things. Still, there was also the commandment of the River, and he was interested in the children and their talents. If Naia spoke the truth of its word, then there could be very good reasons for him to work with the commander. Then again, it’d also warned Innie of his death should he pursue this course, maybe this offer was that threat recast.
“Well?” said Naia.
There was nothing for it, Efrain surmised, at least until Karkos.
“It’s a deal. I’ll do what I can, until you sail,” Efrain said, holding out his hand and shaking it with Naia in the Karkosian fashion.
“Good. I would lay out the mission and your role, but you’ve guessed all you need to know already. This all stays between us and no one else, not even my captains. On pain of death, Efrain.”
“Understood, commander,” said Efrain, fully conscious of the irony.
“As for a method of approach,” Naia said, “the paladins have taken charge of much of the children’s education. However, I’m sure I could come up with an excuse to educate them on something. Maths, perhaps, or military history. We might be able to arrange them to have time away from the paladins.”
“So you want me to teach them the arts,” Efrain said, “and so doing, shake the foundations of the church.”
“More or less,” Naia chuckled, “you should return and recover your strength. Your companion was quite worried.”
“Oh really?” Efrain said, dispelling the charm, and leaving the tent.
He walked back to the circle of waggons he’d found himself in not twenty minutes ago, reflecting on the conversation he’d had. When he made it back to the one he’d slept in, he heard the sounds of voices within the canvas. Peaking in, he found Aya sitting before Innie, chatting away.
“I see you two have become good friends,” he said as he clambered in.
“Oh!” she said, “friends? I don’t know. Maybe not friends.”
“Stop teasing her and sit down Efrain,” Innie said.
“Fine, fine,” Efrain said, lowering himself onto the wooden slats.
“Now, as I was saying dear, “ Innie continued, “the talent of ‘seeing’ magic is much more about feeling it than actually using your eyes. You could use your ears, or nose, or tongue for that matter. It’s about the communication, much less about how you receive it.”
“You mean people can taste magic?” Aya giggled with a note of awe.
“Taste, and hear, and smell. More attuned beasts use their nose, like with everything. Humans tend to use their eyes, hence they tend to ‘see’ magic. Well, with some exceptions.”
Innie turned judgemental eyes to Efrain.
“I was a beginner,” Efrain said, “besides, I quickly grew out of it.”
“Why?” Aya said, “what is he talking about?”
“This one,” Innie said with relish, “started smelling when I first taught him.”
“That’s true?” Aya said, eyes wide, but with an amused smile creeping onto her face, “what does magic smell like?”
“Alright, you’ve had your fun,” said Efrain, “it can smell like many things. It depends on the magic, it depends on the wielder. I ran into a fire wyrm once and everything smelled like burnt flesh for days after. Magic stinks for better or worse.”
“That was about the time you switched over to seeing. I guess you learned your lesson,” Innie said.
“But that’s not all magic can convey. Sensory information is but a pittance. More complex things, emotions, moods, entire concepts can be compressed into magic. The language we spoke to the trees in the pourjava’s hollow? You can express much more with magic, much faster, than with mere language alone.”
“The language you spoke in the-”
“Tematek, a kind of template, a mould which magic creatures developed various dialects from. Most magical creatures with the intellect to speak a language will speak Tematek or some variant of it.”
“So does that mean we’re speaking it right now?” she said, the whites of her eyes shining in the dim light.
“No, I speak human tongues as well,” said Innie, “the process of learning Tematek is a long one. You’ll simply learn how to see this way.”
“Could I learn it?”
Oh, this is too easy, Efrain thought, hearing Naia's voice echo about ‘opportunities’ falling into laps.
“You certainly could. It would be as hard as learning any other language however. And there’s the fact your paladin guardians are rather… possessive of you.”
“Well, they’re not here right now, I checked,” she said, and Efrain thought he saw a glimmer of pride at the deception, “they’re sleeping. Niche tried to keep watch but sleep caught up.”
“So, you’re saying you want to go behind the back of the church’s representatives to practise magic. The penalty for which could be death,” he said flatly, “that’s an impressive commitment.”
“That’s all they’ve said for the past few days,” she said without pause, “‘magic is dangerous’, ‘mages aren’t to be trusted’, ‘the Lost this’. Maybe they’re right.”
“And yet here you are.”
She nodded.
“They took me away from my home, my family. I don’t know anyone here, I don’t know what they’re planning for me. If I trusted you, would I be going on more than trusting them?”
Efrain chuckled.
“No, I suppose not,” he said, “although I think I do have one advantage.”
“What?”
“Your mother asked me to take care of you, if I could,” Efrain said, “I met her, before I ran into your group.”
To the girl’s credit, she held her expression, though the explosion of shock in her eyes were unmistakable, as well as the quiver in her jaw.
“You-you did? Is she- is she alright?”
Efrain paused. Maybe it was an old kindness that stirred below lost memories. Maybe it was mere self-interest, to pursue a relationship by putting the girl at ease.
“I’m sure she’s fine,” he lied, “but, we’d best get started, before your minders get up.”
[←Chapter 54] [Cover Art] [My Links] [Index] [Discord] [Subreddit] [Chapter 56→]

Men who use sex as a weapon and view women competing for affection as a type of sport.
It isn't the infidelity that gets to me, it's the way you use women for entertainment. It's the way you use women to punish the ones that don't do what you want. I never follow you on social media because I know that's how you always get back at me when I'm out of line. I have no idea if you've moved on or not, I just assume you will to show me that I was never important.
Then you feel the need to open your mouths about me. Paint me as a villain to the next one or if you're going back to your ex then the one who came before me. How I was awful because I had boundaries and I scare you when I stand up for myself. And then you launch a campaign against me to destroy my life because I won't let you use me whenever you feel like it, like the other women let you do.
You have no idea how much pain this has caused me. When I let go of people I do it with love and positive intentions. I don't mind if you're happy with someone else because I actually do love you and want the best for you.
But your actions when I went into solitude as an act of self love to protect myself from men and women who wanted to destroy me made me wonder if you know what love is and if you're capable. And the degree of the pain that was caused made me reluctant to ever put myself in that position again. Why would I risk my health for someone who sees me as entertainment? For someone who would throw me to the wolves as soon as I became boring?
But you regret your childish impulsivity upon reflection when you see what it cost you. You make demands you have no right to make. You ask me to stick around and risk having the same thing happen to me over and over again because you can't stand the idea that someone else might control you. You hate that you might not be getting the right amount of validation to feed your egos. You have to control them instead, fuck it if they get hurt.
You ask me to risk having to heal myself from the same thing all over again. You ask me to allow you to use me to make the other women jealous. But why would I want to do that when that means more drama for me?
It's not that I stopped loving you, you just kept putting me into positions where I had to love myself more. Any time someone does that, I will choose myself. Any time someone tries to control me I'm done. I am not on this earth to alleviate any man's burdens, boredom. I'm not here to validate him. If he comes to me he has to know that I have no problem with him having female friends other than me. But if you entertain women who you know hate me and want to destroy me, then it doesn't matter how much of a nice guy act you put up with me, I will see you as the enemy. It shouldn't be a difficult choice. If you love me, you would want to protect me from harm, not put me in danger so you can feel better about yourself.
It doesn't matter how I feel, if you are the enemy I will protect myself from you. I could love you like my child but I will still sacrifice you if you put me in that position.
It's like I said earlier: There is no love lost on my end but I do want my space. I don't care much to be reminded and retraumatized of the past right now. When you get into a new relationship is it going to be with a woman you compare to me to make her feel better or worse about herself? Will it be an ex who you have whipped into submission to the point where she hates herself enough to hate me?
I know you are an empathetic and sensitive person, you feel when people cause you pain. Why don't you ever feel for me? I feel for you. Why don't you think 'I have no intentions of doing anything other than using this woman to stroke my own ego, I better leave her alone.'
I don't ever use people for entertainment so I don't understand the mentality. I have respect for people and their paths. I don't want to manipulate someone into doing something that doesn't align with them. Why doesn't anyone look at me and think 'Thats not a little pawn I am trying to move around on the board, this is a human being with her own thoughts and dreams"
This is what I can't stand about men. They tell you dumb shit like "women are stupid and weak" in grade school and you believe it your whole life, never challenge any assumptions because it fits the narrative that YOU want. God forbid I want anything for myself or to exist for my own reasons outside of a man. I am sick to my stomach at the way men use women and how some women actually are so weak and stupid that they let them. Way to live up to the hype, you dumb bitches. When you hate you really do become a pawn, you're easy to control good job
I am your friend and family forever, but you have no idea what damage you did and how much it would take to repair the bridges we burned. I try so hard to be open and trusting but then my intuition/paranoia tells me you are doing the same thing, running back to the same people to talk about me. Is it worth it having to heal from things I already healed from? I don't know if the best idea is to run towards this or give it space to breathe. You know my inclination is to let it freeze because I can't stand the discomfort of standing in the presence of someone who can't see my humanity. I will not be turned into a slave or a God.

Did you know that research show 20% of married men cheat on their partners? This indicates that one in five males are guilty of cheating.
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As a result, you might want to reconsider your belief that your husband will never cheat on you. It happens more often with people who never thought they would cheat, and most wives in marriages are astonished when they learn their husband is having an extramarital affair.
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Because of this, even the slightest suspicion must be thoroughly considered. The best (and likely only) way to uncover your husband cheating on you is to spy on their phone.
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However, without any outside assistance, you cannot spy on a phone by dialing
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[[email protected]](mailto:[email protected])
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Their level of espionage abilities is. In order to accomplish this, you will need a phone spying app, though you can alternatively use your phone. They offer all clients invisible and untraceable access. You are thus secure.
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But when you go looking for one, all you come across are apps that deceive you under the guise of "human verification" and "take a survey" (if you've ever tried looking for a spy app, you'll understand what I mean).
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Consequently, I'll suggest [email protected]. Here is a detailed guide on how to spy on your spouse's or partner's cell phone.

in an unknown future all the rest of humanity live inside the hollow sphere a gigantic structure where the humans live sheltered from the instable and aggressive outside world the survivors the sphere have more than 2000 km radius the population of the sphere are divided into 3 group the citizens the prisoners who are used as subject experiment and the military the outside are full of S.O.B ( supernatural obscure being) odd and terrifying creature that no one know where they come from they are all registered in a huge database
in this fictional scenario after a huge incident all the population of the sphere have been put in a hibernation state and whillis a young men have the difficult mission to find a place where the humanity can florish again in a peace without any danger whillis will have to browse this hell tosucced in his mission

So far I've found a few examples of great single bundles on MyMiniFactory:

@TheLazyForger my favourite from them is The Enlisted as a guard equivalent army.

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@KMFP with their Stunty tech men, the Goliath Consortium

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I also know to search Galactic Crusaders on thingiverse if I want something like a crusader who roams the galaxy.

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I also looked on Taccoms, but they haven't updated in ages, and I don't remember my login.

I'm looking for some bugs(regular or crossed with humans), some chaosy dudes, a variety of space elves(Good, Evil and Dinosaur based).
I also really like weird humans mixed into bugs, chaos or PDF, and any kind of work or leisure vehicle to go with those forces.
I actually have a good number of non 3D printed forces of some of the above, but I am specifically looking for a place to find cohesively designed (or at least compatible looking) units for any Epic 40K compatible armies.

For context I deconverted 6 years ago and have been healing an growing. Husband still 'believes' and occasionally goes to church and participates (pentecostal evangelical fundamentalist). He isn't as in so deeply anymore because it's triggering the amount of 'voluntary' labor we had to do at church in our previous one (we moved from Puerto Rico to mainland US and the church is somewhat milder). He doesn't want to feel he has no life or having all his time tied up, but his family are mostly all believers and very conservative and pester him about church all the time. Last night after our talk he asked me for forgiveness for all the years he was a harsher more authoritarian patriarchal husband because of our beliefs (we have been married 22 yrs, 17 of those at church). M6 journey and pebble sized conversations here and there have helped him realize we went through emotional abuse, spiritual abuse, trauma. Last night was a healing experience for the both of us. It was liberating for me and I thing it took a load off his shoulders. We, as women, have it really bad, purity culture is horrible. But we forget men are just as victims as we are, a combinaction of power trips with unattainable expectations. The standard are so high they must be gods themselves in their households. Being a god while having human attributes when you have a conscience is exhausting and traumatic in itself. It is so ingrained in his head he can see a lot wrong with it but excuses so many other things (he was raised in it, I wasn't). It's like when you leave an abusive relationship and only understand the magnitude of the abuse once you are out. Me leaving helped me see it. He still can't, at least not completely.

We live in a world that's obsessed with bodily autonomy/human rights and constantly fights over the most petty social issues. Yet the genital mutilation of millions of boys across the world is completely disregarded. This practice is so common, that 1 out of every 3 men in the world is missing a foreskin. I mean tons of messed up body alterations existed in human history, yet much of them has completely vanished from the Earth. So you would think circumcision would also die away also, it has all the trademarks of a vile act and it messes with a man's reproductive organs. But somehow, it survived for thousands of years and is even mandated in some religions. To add the cherry on top, if you say "female circumcision" almost everyone can agree it's a disgusting act that should never be done and women who support it are brainwashed. I just find my perception of reality to be so difficult at times, like how the hell is circumcision still around and so damn normalised? Don't humans want to protect their genitalia? It sounds like something you'll use to torture your enemies.

Hi everyone. I posted in this thread awhile ago but things got better, and I was happy again and feeling connected to my partner again for awhile. Back in December, I moved away. Only an hour and a half from my partner, so he came to see me on the weekends until he planned to move in a few months later (he was finishing college stuff up). Our sex life had finally reinvigorated. It was wonderful. He made the time for us to have intimacy and be connected to one another. (Previously, we had a DB for about 6 months to a year off and on).
Now, he’s been living with me for almost 2 months. And we’re back to nothing again. He’s happy, working out, feeling good, and acts like he wants me sexually but will never follow through. I will say I have grown in my confidence more and I’m looking / feeling better than I ever have.
But the last couple weeks, I’ve had to have a conversation with him every week because I’d be so confused as to what he wants. He’s basically all talk. He told me he wanted me to “ask when I want sex”, but he’s literally sitting there scrolling on his phone paying me no mind at night when we would usually do it. He’s made me feel guilty for having a sexual need in the past, and so if he doesn’t seem enthused or happy about sleeping with me, or showing NO desire, why would I want to ask?? That makes me feel like a disgusting human being. And the times I have tried to initiate by literally giving him a handjob in the shower he just laughed at me. Then when I mentioned that in the conversation, he said “I don’t see that as sexual” what?! When he’s literally started sex with me tons of times in the shower 2 years ago when we were often.
The last couple times I have very kindly asked him how we could fix things or if I could help in any way (very respectfully, calmly), he just yelled at me. Got worked up and his answer to everything was maybe I should just leave? Do you want me to leave? It makes me really upset so then he calms down and tries to comfort me. But I don’t want his comfort if that’s how I have to get it.
Now he’s says he hasn’t been in the mood any. But for the last few weeks since he moved he told me several times that his libido was a lot better and he wanted sex a lot more. So I’m just confused as to what I should do. I am very communicative, but he just gets upset. I put a lot of effort into looking nice for him, shaving, and making that effort. But I get nothing except an occasional ass slap.
Any advice here? Men, what is your perspective on how he could be feeling? I care a lot about him.
any DMs attempting sexual communication will be blocked