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Tycho / 4 hours ago

Sometimes my friend Amy Falcone says that something is “a lot,” and now Gorborath has adopted it.  Generally something is “a lot” when you “can’t even.”  That’s the threshold.

I feel like 52 billion dollars is a lot.

I can’t contextualize it in any way.  Numbers that big trail off into occult geometries, chthonic vibrations, and hissing parselmouth.  It feels like we’ve entered the Epoch Of Gargantua; these are creatures whose slightest movement carves valleys.  I really like a lot of the stuff they make, but I don’t know what it means to have this much culture siloed in a single lumbering entity.  That’s not to say I’m not primed for acquisition!  I am one hundred percent ready to be seized by some kind of ray and subsequently engulfed. I’m just saying I don’t think we’ve seen entities of this cultural scope.  I’m not certain we know what it means.

We thought about where the Eye might turn its gaze next, and with things like this you gotta dream big.  I conjured the aftermarket modifications in my mind; the sun we know, crown’d with two smaller orbs at ten and two, its face cresting a blue mountain range, its light searing and profound.

(CW)TB out.

Lore Galore

The Sword of the Conqueror
Notes compiled 1489 DR (AC, SCRTRN)

Long ago, there was said to be a great King whose Gray Fortress dwelt both in Shadow and in Light.  And from this palace, which had a face of cruel stone, the King built two kingdoms - one in each realm.

The Forces of Light in the story - in literal terms, the Armies of the Prime Material - could not break the Grey, nor could the Forces of Shadow.  In time an alliance was formed between these two armies, and a weapon forged to mark that bond.  Called Schism, it was a flexible spear of eleven and one half feet in length.  The wax-leaf tree that gave Schism its body had grown out of season, its roots lapping at a pool of black water.  The blade at the tip was suffused with a thirst such that unique tools and songs were required for protection, even at the time of its making.  It bore a red silken tassel that grew more lush with every life it took.

Though it was created for a purpose, it had purposes of its own.  Schism was of two minds, and could never settle on the answer.  It could cut a moonbeam in half; it could slice history with the same ease it could flesh.  But who was best suited to its goals?  Would it be one who carved a path through the world, beset on all sides by foes that sharpened her with each battle?  Or should it be one who had mastered themselves, and thus could direct its ire with something akin to wisdom?  It could not decide, and as it was plunged into the Grey King, that indecision snapped the instrument in two, a foot or so beneath the blade.

This blade, which scholars have called The Sword of the Conqueror, went with the envoys of shadow after the battle and was to be interred with the heroes of the War Betwixt.  There is no record of its arrival and no word of its use, though enthusiastic readings of certain texts may suggest its presence.  Shadow histories are nestled within themselves, and they do not reckon time as we do.  Who may say?

The shaft was given to a monastic order in a forest at the base of “a great mountain” in secret, where it was cared for by a succession of masters and became a mark of station.  Its whereabouts are not known to scholarship, and all efforts to contact or even locate the monastery have failed.

Today’s art is by Ryan Hartman, who you may know better as Dragonborn Narcissist Donaar Blit’zen.  You can grab a larger version without the postcard livery here.

(CW)TB

Tycho / 2 days ago

I feast on spoilers; I actively seek them out.  I typically read the last page of a book first - just one more way in which I am an iconoclast, whose zesty street wisdom is incalculable by the undifferentiated Norm.  The problem is that there exists a kind of Reverse Market for this type of illicit information, and it’s generally flooded with nonsense.

I have a ton of PAX South news to get to, so let’s jump in.  First, we had a demo of True Dungeon set up last year, and it was incredible  We are overjoyed to have the full thing this year, and our joy is further doubled to learn that it’s themed after our friend Patrick Rothfuss’ Kingkiller Chronicle!  It’s a ticketed event, and it’s gonna fill up fast - there’s “tickets” for the free demo just to help with scheduling it, and also pay tickets for the premium Pat stuff that includes tons of goodies as well as includes a donation to Worldbuilders charity!  If you have even a sliver of interest, I’d make your way over to the official True Dungeon site and get your shit squared away.

The PAX South Tabletop Showcase - their version of the PAX 10 - focuses on tabletop games, which makes sense when you think about it.  Lots of great submissions as always, but here’s the ones that really got hold of us:

Skulk Hollow by Pencil First Games
Wisp in the Vale by Lumo Amuzo
Sagrada by Floodgate Games
Mountaineers by Massif Games
CodeWorld by Dreamstruck Games
Drawing Dead by Gold Baby Games LLC
Bargain Questby Bargain Quest Games

Plus!  We can always use more Enforcers for a show, so if you’ve got an eye toward taking on the livery of that ancient, powerful order why not learn more and then drop us a line?

(CW)TB out.

Tycho / 3 days ago

Twitch ALL DAY

Here’s what’s going on there today:

10:00 - CRAFTOMANCY w/ Dani Hartell and Eric Benson
12:00 - Acquisitions Intoxicated
1:30 - Gabriel The Art Angel
3:00 - High Heavens (Tabletop Sponsored stream)

(CW)TB

Tycho / 4 days ago

(Here’s the strip.  I’ve never had a single interaction with Geoff Keighley that wasn’t good, so there’s no beef; I just do a lot of public appearances too and it’s a very fragile time.  Here’s today’s Acquisitions Incorporated: The “C” Team fic, with art by Kate Welch, that is to say, Rosie Beestinger.)

Like a spring icicle, the protection money continued to drip, drip, drip.

It had started with Marvin from the New Ironbark Inn.  He’d settled in the northern tip of Red Larch after fleeing the destruction of Nemezir, and being a place of gathering for local halflings word must have spread.

The pouch had contained the two small emeralds that indicated pious deference to her organization, an organization she had endeavored tirelessly to dismantle, but was always sprouting fresh and green in the cracks of her life.  The part of her that was and would always be Grandmother Night wasn’t going to give the money back purely on principle.  But she also knew, wound somewhere in the brass spring of her mind, that sending the money back would not resolve it.  They would assume the tribute was light (which, technically, it was).  They would assume they had slighted her (which, technically, they had).  Then there would be overtures and spice cakes and all manner of nonsense.  She hated the grovelling.  But it was entirely possible she hated spice cake more.

All the same, she couldn’t just sit on the money like an old hen.  She abhorred lazy money.  What’s more, the strange pouch K’thriss had - a marker of his station as a Hoardsperson - was always sniffing the air near her door and it wouldn’t do. 

The situation of Red Larch was such that children who had been lost on the road would choose the alleys of this small place over the wood or the hills, and with good reason; they were called Fall Apples - a term of endearment - because there were too many to care for, but it was a point of civic pride to comfort them.  Rosie’s bag was never without the occasional wrapped Cornerstone or crumblecake as a result; she was in the habit of adoption, and though her work often took her from the town there was always a thought for them, particularly if she thought it might be cold.

So it was that Rosie Beestinger became the “agent” of a “mysterious benefactor” who had “been a pirate until recently” and “sought to remedy her conscience with the salve of good deeds.”  An old, yet sturdy warehouse nearer the quarry was secured under these pretenses, which were not truly pretenses at all.  She had always been mother to more than her own kin, and this damned money would do its part in it.  She called the place Lighthouse, and it was, in more ways than one.

(Here is the version without the K’thrissmas livery.  Thanks Kate!)

——-

To continue the theme, the Child’s Play Charity Dinner and Auction is coming up this Thursday at 6:30pm - there’s still time to sneak you in, as a group or simply as a very generous electron.  Today’s savory store offering is ten bucks off your choice of Mug/Moleskine bundle: one fashioned after my cohort’s… proclivities,  and one bundle designed to recognize you as a figure of taste and eruditon.

(CW)TB out.




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