The Forum's Scriptorium

[Yastreb]

What follows is the first part of a prequel story from my Dragonhost Saga, involving Dorian Wolfkin, the second major character to appear in volume 1 (Earthfire).

BATTLEGROUND

It was the perfect place for the battle to decide the fate of the kingdom, a grassy plain unbroken by gullies or hillocks or streams.
“Svarok be with you in the battle to come,” the priest said. “And should you fall, may you stand before the Lord of Battles with honour in your hearts.”
Zuranok raised the amulet to his lips. “Be with me, mighty lord.”
Around him, the other warriors in his hundred were doing the same.
They remained kneeling in silence until their stoiyatnar called out, “All praise the Saviours!”
“All praise the Saviours!”
The service was over.

It had been two months since the rumours of Lord Dumor Voyinok’s treason and the murder of Crown Prince Urosh had first been whispered, and then confirmed. After twelve years of his rule as regent, twelve years of corruption and misrule and oppressive taxation, the final atrocity had come as no real surprise, as foul a betrayal as it was. Now an army had mustered under the banner of Duke Vukor Branvok, the most powerful among the nobles of Rashka, and dozens of lords had sworn to bring an end to Dumor Voyinok’s ambitions, even as many others were supporting the Usurper, whether through loyalty to their pledged oaths or simple opportunism.
Fifteen thousand of Duke Branvok’s Loyalists were facing perhaps twelve thousand who would fight for the Usurper, and for Zuranok, there had been no choice. He would not be allowed to live in the Usurper’s kingdom.

On orders from his stoiyatnar, he stood guard with two comrades over the baggage park. There was little chance of a serious attack through the forest to the army’s rear, but there was always the risk of Usurper scouts trying to sneak into the camp; Duke Branvok had also ordered that the usual riff-raff of hucksters and whores and the like should be kept away.
It was not far from sunset when Stefan said, ““Here’s one! Ha! One man and his dog. You want to see him off?”
Zuranok shrugged and stepped forward, levelling his spear at the stranger emerging from the forest trail; a tall figure, though short of Zuranok’s inches, his head half-hidden by a shepherd’s fur cap, as worn in the south.
“Begone from here! No vagabonds permitted, by order of Duke Branvok!”
The stranger stopped, looking down at the point of the spear levelled at his gut, and Zuranok realised that the stranger had a sword strapped across his back, the hilt raised above his right shoulder, and wore a cuirass of leather and rings; not the garb of a huckster or mountebank, Then Zuranok glanced down at the black dog at the stranger’s side, and realised that it was not a dog; it was a wolf.
“I am here to fight, not to beg,” the stranger said. “And I choose this army as you would in my place, I think.”
Zuranok looked up from the wolf and peered at the stranger’s face. There was something unusual, but the shadows were hiding it...
He raised his spear and said, “Remove that cap.”
The stranger tugged the cap from his head. “Now you understand.”
“I understand, my lord... uh...”
“I am Dorian, Lord Wolfkin. My companion is Thunder.”
Zuranok had seen Veelas before, though never so close, but what he saw now was unmistakable; the pale features, high cheekbones and sharply pointed chin, the large, slanted blue eyes, and the lobeless ears sweeping up into high points that the golden hair did nothing to conceal.
“You and I are vermin in the eyes of Voyinok and his get,” Zuranok said. “I heard about what he did to Veelas...”
“Then let me pass and join the ranks!” the Veela said, finally showing emotion.
Zuranok glanced around at Marko and Stefan. Both men shrugged.
“I’ll take you to our hundred. Then it’s up to you to convince the stoiyatnar.”

(To be continued)

[AndrogynousAutarch]

I'm joining National Novel Writing Month for the first time after remembering it was a thing and quickly got to work on an introduction.

This scating scholarly paper is supposed to get one of our main characters into the thick of the plot in what I am hoping is a Jules Verne exploration style story.

A background on the Reformed Fascan.
By Elder Bjen of Valentia

Introduction
Reformed Fascan as a language can be considered a constructed language. This is for a few reasons; the most recent of which is the great reformation, which took place around the year 460 after the defeat of the immortal a vital event indeed; second in the order of events was the mergence of the two bordering Frater Civitatibi; and the first and most significant of them being the rise, fall, and subsequent defeat of the thrice-damned conqueror, The Immortal. The Constructing, as it were took place in stages according to the grand plan, the Unitatus of Languages that had taken place shortly after the defeat of the immortal.

Other scholars have debated this notion, though, arguing the claim that the state, the royal government of the dominion of Fasca is the sole shaper of Reformed Fascan as we know it, is a ludicrous overstatement that vastly underestimates the natural process and the denigrates the contributions of the countless ethnicities that now make up the Fascan Dominion. In my professional opinion, quite frankly, this opinion is hypocritical, and likely is the result of the new peoples, those currently disgruntled by their status (I mean no offense to those among new peoples who fall out of step with these opinions) and therefore must personally slander hardworking scholars of history and linguistics.

What can be considered correct and an opinion that would have been without many friends in the mainstream is the thought the observation that until recently, the words for "magic" or even the names of the Gods of our dominion did not have any presence. Though despite the kernel of truth present in this opinion, these individuals (their common name is "Non-Unitarians") are incorrect in their assumption of the reason for this. There is scant evidence of their claim that has supposedly "rocked" the world of Fascan historic-linguistics; rather there is an abundance of evidence against it.

Their claim is that, supposedly beyond the western sea is a continent that the ancestral Fascans emigrated from in great force in four successive waves and after their landing, found it a good idea to breed with the local peoples of the continent.

Firstly, the notion that the ancient people, whose wisdom in judgment could be so easily subverted by these indigenous populations is ridiculous on many levels that I will not even venture to discuss; secondly, the divine right of the Fascan people to the dominion is called into question in favor of a naturalistic and frankly (to put in in generous terms) blasphemous explanation that downplays and--I suspect--altogether eliminates the involvement of the pathfinders in the rise of the Fascan people; and Finally, thirdly and most importantly, even assuming that an indigenous people did inhabit this continent and was either altogether eliminated by some genocide that took place in antiquity or was absorbed by the merger of the two peoples, the burden of proof falls upon these individuals to prove the existence of this continent, this ancestral homeland from which our people came.

That last point remains very important to modern history discussion and regrettably remains pertinent to our field of history...

[Quetanto]

Another from my Spell Merchant world! This time:

Visitation

14th of Woodmonth, 760 AP/May 29th, 3743 LC
The Imperial Palace, Henuia, Gienghia

An elephant went to visit the Emperor.
You might think you know how this story goes, but you almost certainly don't.
The elephant was not pushed on by drivers, or covered in gold and silk and wrapped as a present. It was covered in white and red paint, to be sure, special markings adorning its sides and forehead. But it came freely and frankly. The paint had been first applied by its own kind, and then willingly by humans. The humans who followed it were no great people in their own right, but followers. Some had followed the elephant all the way from the grasslands of its home. Others had joined in later, as it passed over the deserts of the Senok into the cold, snowy lands of Hercua.
And to the Emperor it came, to the marble steps and iron pillars of the greatest palace in the west. And it went before the Emperor, Commander of the Faith, and kneeled before him.
Your Eminence, said the elephant, in a voice that rumbled through the soles of the feet up to the soul of the heart, I wish to learn the True Faith.
The Emperor was utterly flabbergasted, understandably so.
"O great behemoth," he said, "I do not understand. Why come here? Why to my palace? Why ask myself, when so many others would have been nearer?"
I come from a land far to the north, said the elephant, where the grass is eaten in threes and the wells are living trees. My people have wandered there for many, many years, beyond the time of my grandmother's grandmother's grandmother's grandmother and thus out of living memory. We have learned from and lived with other apes like you. We have eaten sugar cane and sung blessings through the earth. We lead the apes to water, we protect them from the crocodiles and wolf-bears. And they leave us food, paint our bodies with bright colours, sing us songs of praise. And so it has been.
And then it was not.
Apes from your land, with fire and metal, took to the lands of the apes we knew, said the elephant. They do not take water from us, but our blood and our teeth. They have wrenched our tusks from our bodies and left the corpses for wolf-bears and hyenas. They build houses of iron, with curved roofs to drain away the rain instead of holding it. And now too so did many of our own. And we did not understand.
So I asked an ape that I knew, ones who had turned to the new faith, why this was. "We are reborn," he said. "You who were our gods are now but animals in our eyes." We have no gods among my people. I did not know what he meant. He said, "there is a Creator in this world, and a Ruler. Once we thought them different, now we know them to be one. There is a new Great King, and he lives to the south, where the masters-in-faith come from."
I told my tribe, said the elephant. They were skeptical, but I have much magic. I told them I would go alone, to the far reaches of the world, and find the people who killed my mother. And from them I would learn why the world is the way that it is.
"And you wish me…to teach you?" said the Emperor at last.
Yes, said the elephant. I wish you to teach me.
There they were, the elephant and the Emperor.
"Your mother was killed," said the Emperor at last. "I am sorry for that. I may command the churches of the Empire, but I do not control them. If you wish it, I can have the men responsible punished."
My people have done so already, said the elephant. They were only apes, after all. They were small.
"Was the punishment yours to give?" said the Emperor.
I see that it was not, said the elephant. They were your apes. But among my people we do not kill one another, save in the time of musth, and then it is hot and angry. So if we wish not to kill or be killed, then we must join you and you must join us.
"And should the church who owns your land decide that you are fallen beings, twisted grotesqueries of humans, and must be killed?"
They may try, said the elephant, mildly. Others have tried. Others have failed. This is how I walked to you.
The elephant raised its trunk, gently but firmly, and curved it a certain way, humming to itself as it did so.
And the red floor beneath them rose and twisted, and two figures emerged from the chaos. A cow (and that is a female elephant) kneeled beside a man at prayer, each on a woven mat. The statue faced, as all good statues should, towards the city of Carioa, the centre of the world. Two others rose, in another part of the hall. A bull (and that is a male elephant) faced a woman with a sword; they, too, faced Carioa. No statue had a face–this is forbidden by God.
We have choices to make, said the elephant. I made mine, by leaving my land of grass in threes and wells in the trees. You may choose to recognize me, and my people, and we will learn your faith and be under your protection. Or you may choose to make an enemy of the earth itself.
For elephants, as you know, are created from the energy of the earth, just as humans are created from the energy of life.
The Emperor thought long and hard, looking at one statue and then the next. In front of him stood the elephant. To his left, the scholars, to his right, the soldiers. And behind were the people of his empire, who had come to see the elephant.
Then he said–

[AndrogynousAutarch]

Introduction to Petition of Reopening of Connection Zones

How does one discover one ended up in an alternate universe? The earliest known disappearance was in 1997, the longest one was also 1997. The researchers at The International Agency for the Reality Exploration (IARE)have only two realities to their names that they know of. One shouldn’t even count, Earth1, and its counterpart Earth2. Not that I said disappearances. Reappearances started occurring in the 2000s when, after years of having been missing and the authorities have given up their search and rescue, people ended up reappearing in odd places.

According to the agency, Earth2 (Not its native name, mind you) has a different language and culture that is subtly similar to our own. Human history is the same in the broad strokes, human migration out of Africa took place along the same routes more or less, the culture of one location looks pretty much the same or similar enough to that of our own.

One major difference is the counterpart to Homo Sapiens on Earth2 seems to have an odd feature: A third gender. This third gender can be considered Intersex or Hermaphroditic, but both of those terms mask the true nature of this condition. After reviewing the evolutionary history of Earth2, two things have become clear: that most mammals, reptiles, and birds possess some capacity for this, even vestigial and that as a result social mores and culture is different on Earth2. This suggests that these species evolved from a similar yet different most-reccent-common ancestor, one that possed this gender trait and have kept it up to the present.

All humans of Earth2 start out as this third gender, which I choose to refer--however erroneously--as hermaphrodites. After achieving sexual maturity, they “assign” themselves one of the remaining two genders based on different factors, including those common to many gender changing species in our world today, such as gender imbalance in the immediate environment or sexual attraction forming between individuals “forcing” compatibility.

Society-wise, this change has resulted in some interesting developments. For prepubescent children, there has formed in several societies, different activities thought to influence gender assignment in children. In their equivalent of western culture, this is performed by dressing the child in gendered-clothing and situating them in the presence of already “assigned” individuals. Due to the Westermark effect, the child does not develop a sexual attraction to these individuals. They are expected to adopt their mannerisms and behaviors.

There are some rare individuals who, even in adulthood, have not, “assigned” themselves a gender and remain fixed in that state. It is unknown how this occurs and such individuals suffer from discrimination that can be compared to homophobia in our world. Therefore we cannot get reliable testimonies at the moment. Additionally, world governments are placing restrictions on the IARE, and further explorations.

As an individual, I strongly believe that research and further communication with Earth2 is of vital importance, to our humanity and theirs. There is much to learn from them as they to us. An entire culture apart in another reality. This is truly an amazing opportunity and it would be unsound to restrict entry as heavily as this [CONT’D]

EXCERPT FROM IARE PROPAGANDA

PROPERTY OF THE EARTH1 INDEPENDENCE COUNCIL

[wavewright62]

C-cliffhangers, plural?
*patience*

[Róisín]

Autarch, this is fascinating. Have you read Ursula Le Guin’s novel ‘The Left Hand of Darkness’? If not, I recommend it.

[AndrogynousAutarch]

Autarch, this is fascinating. Have you read Ursula Le Guin’s novel ‘The Left Hand of Darkness’? If not, I recommend it.

I have heard nice things about Ursula K. LeGuin. I hope to get my hands on a used copy of her work someday.  love anthropology and history. Gender is a subject I only just started getting into and find rather interesting.

[AndrogynousAutarch]

Excerpt From the Manifesto of The Earth1 Independence Council

Authored by:
O.
Jebediah Abrams Brown Sr.
Jebediah Abrams Brown Jr.
Ethel Abrams Brown.

Edited by
Adam Abdulaziz
Erika Yamaguchi
Gideon White,
Greyson Halleck
Washington Eriksen


[...] In these two thousand preceding pages, we have clearly outlined the reasons why it is that Earth2 is to be viewed with suspicion. Any sane and reasonable individual should realize that by now, the existential threat posed by the connection between Earth1 and Earth2. But here is a point not hitherto touched upon. Speaking as Jebediah Brown, I introduce a section written by O himself on what it is that the greater Earth’s independence movement is failing to grasp and I defer to his wisdom. No part of the text has been altered and I write this in the assurance and good faith that my source of O has not supplied me with a forgery.

For the service of the international members of our movement, we have republished this statement and posted it in all the relevant social media outposts available to us and at the time of writing, the E1IC holds the Guinness world record for the single largest crowdfunded advertising campaign. For this I thank God first and foremost, secondly, I thank O, of course for if not founding our cause, certainly giving voice to the silent majority around the world, our world. Without their contributions, the IARE would operate unrestricted and without accountability.

Imagine a number. An infinitesimally small number. Imagine the exponent of this number for a moment. I am aware that the nomenclature used to denote each earth from the other has no relation to mathematics and wish to communicate that despite my limited grasp of mathematics I and countless others know this much:

That any number whose exponent is one is itself.

This fact is clear, predictable, and without dispute.

I will come back to that number in a moment. For now, I wish to discuss the matter of Earth2. The IARE has published a flurry of papers on the subject of it. The media has romanticized its members as being misunderstood seekers of knowledge about this other world and harmless explorers who only seek the benefit for all mankind. That there is much to learn about this world is clear and indisputable. The pertinent matter is the reality of Earth2 that seems to get lost in the excitement.

Does anyone actually know the history of Earth2? Does anyone have a reasonably complete grasp of the culture or temperament of Earrth2? And finally, has anyone been able to provide an unbiased account of Earth2 for the masses, the common people to understand without obfuscation or Jargon or elitism?

In response to the responses to my previous posts, I will supply evidence that I have been to Earth2 and believe that it will be more than sufficient to account for my claims.

[Image Unavailable]

Keeping good faith that you will trust in indisputable evidence, I will continue.

The main distinguishing feature of the skyline of Earth2 is the persistent smog and mustard yellow color, as can be seen in my image. The people in the image are student protesters, chanting a slogan that in the quick pidgin I managed to construct with assistance from P that I translate as, “Free the Prisoners!”

The face in the placards you may recognize as Junko Jones, the Black-Japanese girl who had gone missing in the forests of Poland a few years back.

[Image Unavailable]

In this image you can see Junko Jones, starved, and emaciated in a featureless white prison. I had obtained this image from some of the student protesters. They are protesting for her release and return to our world, a request denied by their government. I have heard government propaganda on her, it implies that she is being kept prisoner after she committed some crime against one of their citizens. From my communications with P, I have managed to form a picture of society in this world.

Shortly after a rough equivalent of WWII in their world, a totalitarian regime (whose name, “Vtai- Vashyalawa”) rose to power and remained so until the present day. Its main ideology seems to be a form of what I can only describe as spiritual nationalism. Details are scarce at present for the actual truth of this regime’s origins, but the most consistent accounts tell of a“Glorious Leader, Seven-Times Praised” who took power somewhere in the Asian continent (I don’t know geography, can’t tell what country it is in Earth1) and now is worshipped in a cult of personality that permeates every aspect of society.

As I have stated in my previous posts, Totalitarianism and Fascist sympathies seem to have been more successful in their world than in ours. Whether this is as a result of some inbuilt genetic affinity for blind obedience to authorities like this or is simply a “for want of a nail” type divergence, I do not know.

What is evident is that the inhabitants of Earth2 are totalitarian today. Now. We must consider how much worse it could have been had it been Adolf Hitler who discovered the New World in 1492 or had Genghis Khan had genocidal ambitions during his conquests. We must consider that sea levels, as I remind those who read my previous post are much higher than on our Earth and natural disasters are common. Their world has entered a hothouse state and it’s people regularly suffer from natural disasters and famines. And yet somehow this regime stays, this “Vashyalawa” remains, even as in our world, rebellions, resistances, and oppositions would have formed.

The Vashyalawa knows about our Earth. They are starving their people and hunting down those who disappeared into theirs and presumably interrogate them for everything they know. Their methods are impressive and effective. Junko spilled everything about her earth and the moment my heart sank was when I saw on state-streaming the moment when She drew for them a map of the nations of our Earth as best as she could remember. When she presented it to her captors, they said something amounting to, “lying, she’s leaving information out.”

They know about the layout of our Earth.

Imagine what you believe is going to happen if this resource-hungry totalitarian regime filled with fanatical drones and ideologues who have no restraint when it comes to torture. Imagine what would happen if they discovered a world still rich in resources, one not yet destroyed by global climate change and full of arable land.

We must prepare.

It is indisputable at this point that Earth2 is coming and the IARE are falling right into their hands. Ignore attention seekers like B’n’B and William_CFoot.

Await my next message in two months, exaclty.
As I have stated before, O’s disavowing of B’n’B (Brown and Brown) was and remains to be a tactic to divert suspicion away from the brown family. It is the direct testimony of O that informs the majority of this document. It is to obfuscate and protect the Browns, the purported disapproving of us and as a personal friend of O, I can attest to the same with William_CFoot.

[CONT'D]

[Jitter]

Autarch, this is really fascinating! With the first excerpt I was a bit dubious, because the statement about Earth2 being very much like Earth1 (us, I presume?) seemed wrong if human gender system were different. So much of our history and culture has been shaped by the various inequalities that a world void of that would have to be very very different. But this second part seems to show it is quite different after all.

[AndrogynousAutarch]

Autarch, this is really fascinating! With the first excerpt I was a bit dubious, because the statement about Earth2 being very much like Earth1 (us, I presume?) seemed wrong if human gender system were different. So much of our history and culture has been shaped by the various inequalities that a world void of that would have to be very very different. But this second part seems to show it is quite different after all.

Well, on that, I like to play around with different viewpoints and their biases, especially when there are vested interests involved. You may want to keep looking. I've hidden a few more hints in the text, implying something more.

[AndrogynousAutarch]

[Article from The Independent Brookfield Journal]
The Face of Independence? Jebediah Brown Sr.
By Michael O. Agosta

Sitting proudly on his porch in suburbia was the form of Jebediah Brown Sr., the public face of the E1IC (Earth1 Independence Council), sipping some iced tea. The house in which he lived was humble. A simple red-painted home in the style of all the others around it.. The very picture of idyllic 1950s suburbia surrounded him. The autumn leaves that fell slowly, the white picket fences, and the almost anachronistic style of architecture came together to paint a picture of a live life . Wearing a beige dress-suit, he was sitting cross-legged as he waited for me to arrive. On the phone he was excited to speak with me, yet here, instead was the picture of serenity and assurance.

As I came closer, he remained silent. The thick smell of iced tea wafted through the air as we exchanged greetings and I was allowed into his home. He put his hand on my shoulder as we walked inside and talked about the little things as we settled into his family sized dining room. Brown talked to me about the role of his son in his organization which I recounted in my previous interview.

Despite the unassuming look on the outside of the home, inside, on the walls hung an array of framed articles and accolades from different publications such as Earth2 news and The Mckellen journal. He must have seen me looking, as he sat me at his dinner table and explained, “I see my reputation precedes me,” as he sat himself down for our interview.

Rising to prominence in the news after a string of controversial comments thought to be in support of Katherine Clark Kelly and her recent mass-shooting of student activists in the Philippines, Jebediah Brown is the face of the Earth2 skeptic movement. First gaining notice as the purveyor of the still, at the time of writing, unknown “O.”, a purported photojournalist who supposedly resides in Earth2 reporting the progress of the Vashyalawa, a totalitarian regime that Brown and his supporters believe is coming for conquest.

“So, can you tell me in a sentence, where you stand on the issue of inter-earth relations”

“The Vashyalawa or Vash has vast resources at its disposal and is prepared to use them to colonize a willing or comparatively weaker civilization,” Brown said.

It is this claim that motivates Earth2 skeptics like Brown to protest the activities of the IARE, such as most recently in Bangkok, Thailand where a student protest against the opening of a recently discovered portal in the country to IARE researchers erupted into rioting after supporters of No Borders activist met them. At the time of writing, Thai security forces are working to quell the violence which is inspiring similar events in other countries..Regarding this, Brown expressed his grievances.

“I disavow their rash and frankly harmful actions and do not condone the violence now taking place in Bangkok. It’s a tragedy really. Let me make it clear that we have no affiliation with such organizations abroad and will not hesitate to condemn their violence.”

I asked him why it is that supporters of O. and the rest of the Earth2 skeptics may be motivated to violence like the aforementioned events. Critics have noted that Brown’s upporters act on paranoia and fear that Brown has cultivated in an almost cult-like atmosphere. I asked him about the role his aggressive self-promotion has played in inciting this violence.

“Listen, while the opinions and goals or our organization may overlap at times with that of these extremists, it must be stressed that we as an organization retain our right to our activities as long as they go without violence. Most people in support of us are non-violent and--despite what the media may have you believe--are not deranged lunatics waiting to kill and maim. I am proud of the young people who support our cause and set a good example in the name of Earth independence”

Young people like Katherine Clancy, a prominent youth leader who has proven similarly controversial for her extremist views in relation to the “Brownian” dogma of the organization and accusations of conspiratorial fear mongering on her Youtube channel which has accrued a subscriber count in the seven-digits. Brown had something to say about her in particular.

“I have actually met Clark on multiple occasions and she for one shows an excellent grasp on the issue of the two worlds. An interesting girl. She was, uh, more on the speculative side of the debate. But first and foremost is a defender of the people of the planet from the Vash.

[Cont’d]

[AndrogynousAutarch]

[CONT'D]

A supporter whose meteoric rise to the forefront of the Earth1 independence movement was met with increasingly polarized responses. Clark’s trip to Bangkok during the riots is believed by many to be what stoked tensions on both sides with her almost accelerationist rhetoric.

Brown took a sip of his wife’s iced tea which he said was actually homemade from scratch. He looked into my eyes for a moment and set the cup down and looked earnestly, said, “I’m aware of what you’re trying to do. You need a statement that can be viewed as official out of me. You want me to give a nice quote for your paper on the tragedy in Bangkok.”

When I responded in the affirmative, Brown scooted closer, putting his hand on my shoulder.

“Here’s one, ‘Katherine Kelly Clark’ is the Joan of Arc of the new century’. If you want a quote, here’s your quote. Young people in Bangkok are performing their duties as citizens of the world and blocking out the march of the degenerates on the other side, holding fast to the guard walls against the torrent of a second age of colonialism, and protecting the veil from the naive.”

I observed that brown was beating around the bush or was otherwise not aware of recent developments in Bangkok, which at the time of the interview had happened a few hours before. Clark was the target of an attempted assassination by a still uncapture assailant while at an independence rally. Clark remained uninjured and has been rushed to protective services.


After informing Brown, a look of great concern flashed on his face before he returned to his perfect manner and composure. He requested that we cut the interview short to two more questions and I agreed.

The first was, “The discourse has turned sour in the intervening months in Bangkok. Reports are coming through that the assassin may have been an Earth1 independence activist against Clark’s rhetoric, viewing it as provocative of the Vash. What is your position on this if it is the case?”

“No comment.”

The last question, “What is, if there is any, the appropriate solution world governments must consider for the security of the citizens of the world in countries where portals have appeared?”

“There are too many portals to effectively contain and secure. Even if all the known ones are secured, according to some estimates, the number of unsafe portals means that there is a serious risk at all times. There is no perfect solution. We at the council, however, will work to the end goal of creating a lasting solution to the problem, I assure you. I wish Katherine Kelly Clark the best and pray for her assailant to be caught.”

[AndrogynousAutarch]

[Retrieved from the now defunct blog of Katherine Clark Kelly]
On the Earth1-Earth2 Student Exchange Program
Oh. My God. I literally can’t [Expletive] believe this. If you haven’t been updated so far with the dominos of idiocy that led to this pinnacle of human self-destruction, the links are in my archive. To put it respectfully, I think that this is going to be a prelude to the incoming colonization effort.

For those who need a recap:

• More Kidnappings have been taking place from our earth (Disappearances have been on the rise since last year)
• “Ambassadors from the Vash met with IARE officials and were forwarded to world governments.
• After a series of closed door meetings have taken place with the aforementioned world-traitors.
• The IARE announces a student exchange program between the Vash and several schools on our earth.
• O has reported from Earth2 the presence of strange devices built around the portals, likely portal wideners based on his reporting.
  

Wake Up everyone! This is merely the preliminary! My followers, there has never been a clearer sign of the Vash’s malevolent intent than this. Masquerading as an exchange of students is the entrance of either advance forces or sleeper agents who are coming to collect vital information on our earth as the prelude to the invasion.

There has never been a better time to prepare for the coming of the Vash. As a species, their [Expletive] mollusks are coming to report back to their masters at the Vash. Selected and currently unannounced secondary schools situated in areas around the portals will be participating.

This will be a Bilateral exchange, and therefore mandates that some poor suckers from our earth will be spending time in Vash land. I have no doubt that they will be treated as well as tourists were during the Berlin Olympics before WWII and have the best stories to tell about how tolerant and kind the Vash are.

The exchange will be taking place for a limited time yet unannounced. While there the IARE will be holding events to educate (Indoctrinate) the students at these schools in Vash culture and Vash history. Certain members of the Vash hierarchy will be visiting through the portals to discuss these matters and answer questions.

There has still been no news on the potential release of Junko Jones from the Vash leadership, but O reports that Jones has since been rushed to one of their hospitals for unknown “Self-Inflicted” Injuries.

William_CFoot reports that in spite of the obvious potential consequences of Vash incursion,  the government of Thailand, host to the largest Vash portal ever reported (may I remind you) is very interested in obtaining the weapons technology that the Vash reportedly possess, turning a blind eye to the deaths of innocent students in the streets, dying at the hands of IARE supporters.

I remain far too high profile to be an open target of the Vash or the Thai government and am happy to report my safety to all of you. Rather it falls upon me to use my position to inform the masses. You all deserve to know and be able to fight this threat.

I have, however, met up with countless thai counterparts of mine and have found that they are prepared for whatever the IARE supporters are able to dish out. Thailand has a rich protest culture and I appreciate its people. They don’t let up and don’t back down.

Protesting isn’t making the governments of the world listen. More drastic action must be taken in order to drive some sense into our leaders.They do not fully understand the threat of the Vahs and their citizens.

We must find out who these exchange students are and keep them under very careful observation. My little followers, I need you, wherever you are to keep in mind any announcement of the exchange program at any schools that you know about.  The Vash citizens’ shapeshifting ability will make their child soldiers effective information gatherers and despite what the news media will have you believe, we know very little about their physiology.

Rise up, my little followers and keep watch.

In response to those individuals who are hesitant to act in the face of obvious and clear Vash intrusions in their neighborhoods, I beseech you. You must do something or else the entire world faces the same threat that countless indigenous peoples did when the bells of colonialism rang. Those who did nothing in the face of such overwhelming evil are worse even than Hernan Cortes and Christopher Columbus, worse than Magellan, the worst human beings who deserved to die far more than the innocents whose blood was spilt in their place.

The Vash leader likely now sits back in His/Her office right now secure in the knowledge that all is going according to plan. We can’t let that be all or the end of it. We will ensure that today will be remembered as a day of resistance, we must act in defiance and make a show that we will not be intimidated by the Vash.

Today I want to hear the people in the streets crying out the name of freedom. This day should not belong to the Vash. It should belong to the people of Earth1 as we face a new future and fight for a new and beautiful tomorrow.

We must fight. We must sustain. We must Survive.
[/list]

[Yastreb]

I had just started writing Dragonfall, the third volume of my Dragonhost saga, when I chanced upon something very striking via Google...



It directly inspired this passage (and I wrote to the woman who made the sculpture to thank her).

***

The Forest of Horns could have been in Rashka or Caillor with its trees of oak, beech, ash and elm, birch and yew, and its underbrush of ferns and grasses, but none of those woodlands could have been as bright to his Sight. And the Dragon within him was content.
They moved cautiously among the trees, remaining out in the open as much as possible. Yastreb and Haaki had taken the lead, with Fortitude and Zabeelushka were by their sides, with the other Riders following in no real order, except that Sharats remained in the centre.
There was little to see of animal life, save for the occasional bird, and they held few surprises.
After three hours of walking there was no sign of habitation, but then it was a large forest. Again thinking back to Tunguska, Yastreb tried to work out the odds of finding a village in those woods by simply walking in a straight line from one edge, but eventually gave up.
“Wait!” said Haaki, and beckoned for the others to stop. “There’s a path ahead.”
Yastreb peered through the trees. There was a path, broad and apparently well-travelled, running across their line of march.
“No sign of wheel-marks,” said Dorian as they paused at the edge of the track. “Or hoofprints of any kind.”
“A long time between travellers then,” Myrallea suggested. “So where to now?”
Yastreb was considering his answer when suddenly Soraine said, “Hold!”
“What...?”
“Stay still and stay silent!” Haaki whispered. “Don’t move! For all our sakes and yours!”
She was looking past him, back whence they had come.
He shifted his eyes left and saw, out of the very corner of his eye, a tall, skirted figure in brown at the edge of the track, and it held a bow, and the arrow on the string was unwavering. It had not been there just seconds before.
Very slowly he turned his head, and felt his heart clench.
* My brother, I will protect you! Zabeelushka declared, but her determination was tinged with fear for him, and of the unknown.
The archer was not flesh and blood. Seven feet or more tall it stood, and its head and face was a globe of interwoven roots or branches without any Human or other features, none at all. Its entire form was made of those intertwined branches that blended seamlessly into the soil. Two arms held the bow, a weapon made of those same branches, and an arrow that was tipped with a winged head of bone. And there were seven of them, identical, spread across the track, and each with its arrow aimed for a different heart.
The silence stretched on, and each heartbeat was an eternity.
Yastreb manifested the Sight.
* They are not tainted, Zalushka, not gy’avol. They’re... creatures of Nature Magic. Plants!
As he shared that thought with Zabeelushka, Myrallea spoke hoarsely. “Wait, all of you. Be calm. Just let me try.”
He did not look around, but kept staring at the archer, at where the eyes would have been, as Myrallea stepped forward to face her archer, stopping just short of its arrowhead.
For another eternity there was silence, and then Myrallea said, “I understand.”
She turned around slowly. “We are to go down the track, that way, and not step off it. If we turn aside, they will shoot one of us. If we try to fight, they will shoot one of us.”
There was nothing said as the Riders slowly turned to follow the track, heading roughly north. But as they did so, Yastreb caught a glimpse of the archer suddenly disappearing in a swirl of dust. It had sunk into the soil so quickly that his eyes could barely catch the movement.
“They’ve gone!” Balatchko cried out.
“They’re still with us,” Myrallea said. “Don’t try to run.”
Balatchko gave a low moan and stumbled. He would have fallen if Dorian had not grabbed an arm and held him upright.
- By the Saviours, - the mage groaned, - I thought I would die, that we would all die. -
Yastreb knew what Balatchko was feeling; the nausea of death narrowly avoided. 
- I feared that too, Balatchko. - Yastreb pulsed to Sharats, * The old man is ill. Could you carry him for a time?
* Carry one who was Drago’s man? Sharats glanced from side to side. * Also unwise, Falcon. He is scared enough to panic and try to get away, and I would deny that, but the archers might not show mercy.
* Just so, Cloud-Walker.
Yastreb let the matter drop, but wondered as he did if Thunder and Sharats had been sharing thoughts; until that moment only Thunder had ever called him Falcon.
Dorian was supporting Balatchko, helping him to walk along the path.
“For now, just keep moving,” Dorian told the mage. “You don’t have to run. Just enough to keep those... whatever they are from putting an arrow through someone’s heart.”
As they began to walk onward, Radul fell into step with Yastreb and said, - By the black hell, I don’t mind telling you, youngster, I was damn close to soiling my breeches back then. Even that gy’avol I fought when I was Lord Djano’s man didn’t scare me as much. -
- I suppose... the difference is, you were hunting for that creature. You were ready for danger, expecting it. Not the way they appeared from nowhere. - Yastreb tapped one foot briefly on the ground. - If they appeared as suddenly as that one facing me vanished... -
- Oh, they did, - the veteran said. - The real blink of an eye and no mistake. -
Myrallea had joined them as they were speaking. - I know how people must feel when I have them at arrow-point, - she said wryly. - Why so many would hurry to obey me when I told them to leave, or else. Those... willow warriors are powerful creations, and I believe, deadly from any range. -
- What? More so that you, my lady? - Radul gestured emphatically. - That’s hard to believe! -
- I’m not willing to test that on any of us. And trust me, they would kill us without hesitation to protect the forest. That’s their task. They gave us... gave me a chance to plead our case, and I dread to think what would have happened if none of us had Nature magic. -
She fell silent, and Yastreb realised that she was touching minds with Zabeelushka.
* They were asking about you, Zabeelushka pulsed to him. * She wants that kept from the others, for now.
With the Darkening, three Willow Warriors sprang up from the soil of the path, but they were not aiming at any of the Riders; their arrows were directed towards at a wide patch of ground off the path.
“We can make camp here,” Myrallea said. “But no fires. And nothing will harm us. They’ll make sure of that.”

***

For those who are curious, the artist's site is here; https://www.annaandthewillow.co.uk/

[Quetanto]

KINGAWA: THE PAINTER’S BRUSH

August 1st, 1488 CE
Iyáanga, Tonga Territory/33º45'N 118º05'W
Ah, you wonder about my images, milord? But of course. Come in, stranger.
A fine city, is it not? Not like the cities around the Bay to the north, of course, but Iyáanga has its benefits. A beautiful beach, of course, and the hills behind are just as lovely, but the heart of Iyáanga is in its people. Not just us Tongva–we've lived here longer than the living memory of the twentieth ancestor–but all others from across the known world. And now–a surprising thing indeed!–a man from beyond that world.
But you see, in Iyáanga there is a special feeling that we alone may covet. We call it the Race, and it is in a way–how we show ourselves, how we behave. In the Race we start at the bottom, drifting in from outside the confines of our fair city, and we run through the days until we find a treasure for ourselves. Perhaps through speech, as my father did; he was an interpreter for the Yokuts, well back when, and it earned him iron blades enough to become chief of his village for a full twenty years. Or through trade, that's always popular. Consultations–the Chumash have the best calendars in the world, and the best horoscopes. You'll have passed psychics on the streets, of course. Music and performance? They're always essential, and the dancers often turn to the fifth method–selling their, ahem, bodily services–to supplement the income they get from work in the trade. I see your look of incredulity, milord, but it's a profession like any others, and what happens in Iyáanga stays there.
Myself? I paint.
There are many people, milord, who would not understand my work, quite literally. Oh, pictures they recognize, and they may even speak aloud the names of pictures. But these are new–comparatively. The kehatak, the Miwok merchants, did the most blasphemous thing possible and let their script become available to all. But I must admit, the tellahapok, the logograms, may just be the best thing to ever happen to me. After all, it keeps me in quite high standing, here in Iyáanga.
Because people like the idea that they can put their words, any words, into a new form. They like that the sounds of their voices can be recorded down the ages, using the great gift the kehatak gave to the word. So I take my reed pen and my soot and my freshly-traded ochre and crushed shells, and I carefully paint on tule papyrus the words that people so often want to keep for themselves.
See this one! Kehaatkuhe', "May you become rich" in Miwok. But I see the word makes little sense to you, milord, and I understand why. Most do not speak Miwok, even now, even here. So I make it clear by other means.
The genius of the kehatak–one way among many–is the patterning of their system, complexity from an inherent simplicity. See, the symbols for KE-HA-AT-KU-HE: a hash, an eye, a stool, three reeds, an upturned arch. Simple enough, you might think–why not leave it at that? Because it would be impossible to understand to any who didn't speak the language! The best of us tellahpek, us scribes, we get creative. What is the surest sign of wealth? Shells! So I make a design of a man (but often a woman, these days) holding for themselves a shell. Behind him stands a doorway, the hash grown large over top; his eye is bright and brilliant; he sits upon a stool, a symbol of great worth; three beautiful maidens with reedlike bodies bow before him; a man bears a basket of shells. All this I paint on paper, outlines in black, skin in red, touches of white here and there for the shells and the door and the shapes of the letters. A dream as much as a message, no?
It's quite a popular thing, even for those who do not speak the language. And, of course, I can apply the writing system to almost all of the languages in our lands. Tongva, of course, but if you use another tongue I can apply that too if you tell me the sounds. It's all so simple, really, like a game, but it takes dedication as you wouldn't believe. And people pay well for my crafts–even the Land and Water Grandfathers of Hulpu-Mni and Sokel. Surely this tells you something about the quality of my work?
I wonder if you would like one yourself, milord. A foreigner, of course, one from the Far West of the world. Perhaps a simpler phrase for you. 'Etaalinam, perhaps–"I will return." Or something in your own language? And a portrait of the White Islands you bear yourselves across the sea in, between two great lands on a dark sea? I can provide the purple especially–
But no. You demur. Ah, you remind me, milord. Not everyone has an interest in the art of writing.
Ah, you laugh, milord? I wonder what it is I have said that amuses you so, that I might say it again.
Oh, yes, this is fine work, milord. The quality of the paper is astounding–so soft, so clear in colour–
Oh, the smudges?
This is your writing?
I see.
Hmm.
Yes, I suppose that makes some sense. You have turned pictures into words, as I turn words into pictures. But milord, a symbol for each word, unchangeable and over-complicated? Is that not terribly cumbersome?
No, I mean no offence. How could I possibly mean offence? It's not real writing, of course, but it's a remarkable idea nonetheless.
Ah, I see you leave, milord. I know not what this word "yaban baka" means–perhaps a farewell? In which case, milord, goodbye and yaban baka!
…pale-faced git. Didn't even offer a tip.

***

CONTEXT: An AU California where people got past the Neolithic and started empires up, much to the surprise of the Japanese who found them while looking for France. (Hence the derogatory name “Frenchmen” for the natives...) Also, Hungarians invaded China, Jesus became emperor of Rome, flexible glass is more precious than gold, and the Malinese are about to discover Haiti. It’s a fun little world.
(In case it wasn’t clear, they’re in Los Angeles.)