The Stay On Main hotel, referred to by its former title of the Cecil, stood tall before me. Its brown brick front loomed. I walked through the main entranceway with my suitcase in hand.
I made my way into the empty lobby and approached the front desk. The inside had glossy black and white tile flooring. Stanchions with red ropes led to the check-in counter.
The clerk looked up at me from his phone with a side-eyed glance. He had wavy blonde hair and blue eyes. He resembled a surfer more than he did a night manager.
“I’m looking to stay here for a week,” I said as I handed him a wad of cash.
“This is an affordable housing unit for the homeless,” he said. “You’re well dressed and have an Irish accent. I’m guessing you’re a journalist or documentary filmmaker. Either way, it wouldn’t feel right to let you stay here when you can afford somewhere else. You’d be taking up space someone of greater need could use.”
“This should erase guilt,” I said as I handed him another stack of hundreds.
The man accepted the bribe and stuffed it in his shirt pocket. He then slid a room key over to me after I gave him a false name and a credit card that did not belong to me. He mentioned the complimentary breakfast available in the morning.
“I’m Scottish by the way,” I corrected him as I made my way onto the elevator.
There were fifteen floors and my room was on the fifth. I pressed the button. The sounds of the creaking wires holding the platform stable reverberated above.
It dinged and let me off. I went down the hallway, which had wooden ground and drab white-painted walls.
I entered my room and saw it was not much better than the corridor. There were a few places I had stayed at with my wife around Loch Lomond far above such a decrepit den as this.
The first thing I saw was the view of skid row outside. Its wandering figures resembled the madhouse painting by Goya. Street lights, neon, and litter were everywhere.
The desk drawer had the to-be-expected Bible. Shock coursed through me as I saw the completed works of Alfred Tennyson next to it. A highlighted passage got my attention:
‘and this gray spirit yearning in desire to follow knowledge
like a sinking star, beyond the utmost bound of human thought.’
It was well-known that Tennyson was a part of my agency when the organization was first founded.
I laid my piece of luggage on the bed and opened it. I took out a leather-bound journal, an EVP recorder, external microphones, and a few mini cameras. I placed the items in each corner.
I waited and retrieved my ledger. I scribbled about my findings later in the morning.
EXCERPTS FROM FIELD NOTES/SURVEILLANCE MONITORING, FEBRUARY 16th AT 0439 HOURS:
There is a streak of blood underneath my mattress. It is faint, very old, and would not even be noticeable to the average eye due to its faded quality. I would not have found it had I not spotted and attempted to kill a roach that scurried across the carpet. The insect has disappeared. I presume it to have fallen between the cracks into another dreary unit below. I have not observed strange or unusual sounds within my space in particular. I have not seen any visions, ethereal or cerebral, which would sound any alarms. Screaming, honking horns, and drunken babbling seep through the boundaries. The wind seemed to flow through the rafters at an unusual pace around those noises. By that, I mean it whistles a song of its own in perfect rhythm.
*
I awoke the next day to the sound of my phone. It was the landline in the room. I answered it and pressed the receiver to my ear in a groggy state, entangling my neck in the wire.
“Meet me at the Civilization Cafe,” a familiar woman’s voice said. My response would have been irrelevant since it was an order and not a question. I placed it back on the hook and managed to get out of bed.
I showered, dressed, and made the walk to the coffee shop.
Dani sat outside with a steaming mug in hand. She did not acknowledge me with anything more than a quick nod as I took a seat across from her. She scanned her surroundings to make sure no one was within earshot.
“Why did you rent the place for a week?” Dani asked between sips. “We agreed on one night.”
“You know why,” I said. I tried to remind myself to remain assertive without being hot-tempered. I did not want a write-up for insubordination.
“We need you to find out what’s wrong with this place," she said. "Report your findings soon. Otherwise, what happened to the last occupants could very well occur to the next civilian.”
“Please don’t put pressure on me like that,” I said. “Catching a poltergeist in a place with so much suffering is almost impossible. It's like summoning the ancients and asking them about the order of their calamities.”
“Could you at least streamline it by sending us emails instead of relying on a pen and notebook?” Dani’s voice became an aggressive whisper. “We’re getting tired of hiring an administrator to sort out your papers. Keeping your intelligence on point is a full-time job.”
“Writing it out by hand gives me a closer connection to the source material. I have to trust my way, or I’ll make mistakes by breaking my habits. You wouldn’t want that.”
She looked down the road. She finished her drink, slung her purse over her shoulder, stood, and pushed her chair in.
“Stay safe,” she said as she walked to a black cherry-painted Honda parked near the sidewalk. "Take care, Graham."
EXCERPTS FROM FIELD NOTES/SURVEILLANCE MONITORING, FEBRUARY 17th AT 0345 HOURS:
There has been one odd synchronicity after another. My window, accumulated so much mist that I reasoned it must have been pouring. Of course, it was bright out. Some of my filming devices have readjusted without me having touched them since set up. The towel rack in my restroom bent at its center. I guarantee it was not that way beforehand. I have taken this as a lesson to take photographs of every square inch of the place. This is for future reference in my studies. After observing these anomalies, my body fell into a lethargic sensation. I was reading a book titled The Origins of the World’s mythologies by EJ Michael Witzel before it fell out of my hands. As sleep enveloped me, something tendril-like moved in my periphery. It disappeared when I tried to stare at the illusions. I fell off of my mattress after having a nightmare of a lion chasing me through the Serengeti. I hit the floor. I looked to the side and saw a fog creep through the small crack at the bottom of my door. I went to investigate where this was coming from. I did not see anything as the remnants of the precipitation evaporated completely. In the hallway was an orange feline. She scampered away into a grimy stairwell.
*
I walked outside after I finished the report. I stepped into my rented vehicle and drove to a liquor store to pick out a bottle of whiskey. There were so many evenings when I was comfortable in my sobriety. This was no longer one of them. I had an uncontrollable urge to drown myself in the brown liquid that had been a scar on my life for so long.
I passed by a few markets that were teeming with too many suspicious people outside to risk going in. It took a while until I found one that was quiet and clean.
I went across the parking lot and saw a mural of Venice beach on the wall. It brought back memories of walking along the sands of Prestwick, with Lynsey.
Her eyes were emerald and her hair was darker than any cave I had explored in my youth. We had met at the Old College Bar in Glasgow at an age we kept secret from the bartenders with our fake IDs. We had a competition to see whose fraudulent driver's license was the most convincing.
I do not remember if I fell in love with her at first sight. I do recall being in disbelief that she even bothered to give me the time of her day. I can remember kissing her for the first time. The scent of her blossom honey perfume lit my body up.
I snapped out of my reminiscences and purchased a bottle of Glennmorangie blue label.
I was back at the Cecil in minutes. I imbibed two highballs and passed out. My tolerance level had weakened compared to the binging of my younger days. When I awoke, I analyzed what had occurred in the room during my sleep.
EXCERPTS FROM FIELD NOTES/SURVEILLANCE MONITORING, FEBRUARY 18th AT 0116 HOURS:
I am feeling hungover but alert. My 450-milliliter friend is half gone, but I am seeing straight right now without any problems. In other words, I am sober with a grudge. I hope my Supervisors at the Providence agency will forgive my conduct on the job. I do not believe they will blame me. A cobalt-hued smoke emanated from one of the corners. Jazz music is playing around me, whereas it never has before for the duration of my stay. It sounds so old and improvised. The notes are as unfamiliar to me as they would be to a new listener in the Flapper era. Worst of all is how out-of-tune it sounds. My tub has overfilled itself with brackish water. I have not even bathed yet, so I know that was not by my hand. A piece of the footage shows a silhouette moving across the room. Before it reaches my sleeping body, the camera lens shattered.
*
I ran out of pages and my hand cramped. I wrote new entries within the margins. I also started to hear things other than old tunes from a bygone era.
Human wails seeped in, each one more agonized than the last. Within a few minutes, I differentiated how there were two different voices. One male, the other a woman. I attempted to record them, but it was useless. All my mics picked up were static and the hum of the air conditioner, despite how they plagued my ears like tinnitus.
I lit a circle of candles and created a makeshift altar in the center of the room. I drew the circle with salt. I sat in the lotus position, closed my eyes, and endeavored to remain open to any visions. Seances were always my last resort.
I fell into a dream. I saw a couple, both from the decade of prohibition. They were lounging in the same room as me. The man had a copy of the completed work of Alfred Tennyson in his hands.
It all seemed like a peaceful scene until an argument commenced between the two. The man retrieved a blade from his vest and advanced toward her. He stabbed her. She turned the knife on him by gripping the sharp edge in her palms and hoisting it towards his midsection. He tried to claw towards the door, but failed and instead made his way under the bed.
EXCERPTS FROM FIELD NOTES/SURVEILLANCE MONITORING, FEBRUARY 19th AT 0026 HOURS:
I now realize I have not met my intended goal. I was hoping to receive some answers why my wife took her own life in this place. Instead, I came in contact with a murdered couple from the 1920s. They killed one another, but the woman acted in self-defense. Following research, I have learned the female is an ancestor of my departed wife, Lynsey. They share the same name. Her family immigrated here in the 1850s. She had mentioned this to me over dinner on more than one occasion. I never knew they had made their way here, to the exact spot I am sitting.
I am grateful to these organizations for allowing me to make an effort at settling this matter. I hope I have completed my duties with integrity. Unfortunately, I was unable to contact her. I will revisit this place one day soon since I have no intention of giving up.

(The Giving Tree is written by Shel Silverstein, The Hanging Tree is by Suzanne Collins)
“Grandma.”
He chuckled, and called again.
“Graaaaaaaandma.”
Hey where was she, he was a smol, wide eyed childgen snuggled up in bed with his red and white patchwork quilt with his Raggedy Ann doll who contrary to popular belief, was NOT HAUNTED and instead infused with good dreams and good vibes.
Good vibes which included Amon’s grandma READING HIM A FUCKING BEDTI-
Her head peeked through the door, glasses wobbling on her pointed nose. She huffed and puffed, and Amon had a twinge of consciousness, a ‘oh wait I’m in better health than her maybe I should be nice,’ sort of feeling.
He then realized that as a child, he was entitled to entitlement, and threw that notion out the window and into the dumpster, where it rested with other bad ideas like, ‘hey let's make a Bible version of dungeons and dragons, or literally anything else that we find morally reprehensible yeah that’ll hinder sales if we tell people to not do this cool thing that is totally bad for you and will result in your eyes being gouged out by Satan’s asshole.’
He, of course, didn’t voice any of this. Because, above fear of God, he had a fear of grandma.
“Did someone say they wanted a bedtime story! Well, by golly, do I have a story for you!”
He paused, “Is it Narnia?”
She narrowed her eyes at him, setting the book that she held behind her down, “Of course not dear! I would never put my preferences over yours, my oh so picky critic who whittles down what stories I read to you with the sharpest razor I’ve ever seen. I am only here to cater to your preferences because your time is the most valuable in all the world!”
He squirmed under the blanket, “....Look, I hate to admit that you’re right but can you not be right.”
“It’s a talent of mine.”
Why can’t I have come out of the womb as a fully mature adult so I can debate grandma to death into an early grave?
Then another thought came.
Wait, I don't want her to die. She loves me or some shit and I think that’s good.
He gulped, attempting to sound less…full of himself, “Could you um…if possible…by any chance.”
“Spit it out sonny if my hearing gets any worse I’ll have to get some robotic implants and do you really want grandma being the catalyst for the AI uprising?”
Please for the love of God nobody let this women near any missile turrets.
“COULD YOU MAKE UP A STORY FOR ME YOU HAVE A NICE VOICE AND IT HELPS ME SLEEP PLEASE GRANDMA THROW ME A BONE HERE.”
“.....I could throw you a dislocated hip.”
Amon squinted, “You’re going to need those in ten years when your bones start fossilizing.”
She patted his back, “Ten years! You’re very generous, in fact those bones of yours with the freshest marrow look….quite appetizing for a geezer like me!”
“All the better to eat me with?”
“Exactly!”
The night went on, a star or two who hadn’t twinkled out to dream land like he had standing in the heavens, wisps of gray clouds swirling round the moon. He could hear the caw of a crow or two, probably picking off the dead racoons left on the road because of grandma’s driving.
Damned dumpster drivers had it coming.
Grandma leaned back in her rocking chair, its faded brown surface creaking as she swished back n’ forth in it. She folded her arms, closed her eyes, and let out a yawn as she flipped a lightswitch, the thin, pale beams of the moon shining through the shudders.
And the heater chugged along like a train, blanketing them both into a slow, dreary slumber,
Grandma began her story.
“Once upon a time, there was a brave knight. So brave in fact, that he didn’t squirm when doctors, who may or may not have been vampires, took his blood, and always opened up his mouth wide for the dentist when they wanted to see his pearly whites! And the king sent him off on many a quest, to save all the damsels in distress because the king had a bad habit of keeping a harem. After all, in those days, monogamy was a myth.”
Amon wondered if the king was based on grandma’s love life.
“The knight loved his king, so why wouldn’t he serve him? Even as the wounds piled up like a pile of rusty coins, infection creeping up on his flesh as the doctors prescribed him leeches and his blood turned to ice. Even as each step became an insurmountable mountain, he had a duty to serve his king, and the king loved him too, right? There was something beyond that icy stare? Some glimpse of hope, a spark of love? Yet they say be careful of he who slays beasts, lest he become a beast himself.”
She paused, and Amon shivered, like the mist creeping outside was the last dying wisps of smoke from the maw of a decaying dragon.
If the time came, would he be able to slay his demons?
“The knight’s greatest beast he would never slay was the one sitting upon the gilded throne. One day, he outlived his usefulness.”
The silence hung in the air. Amon wondered how long it took for the man’s flesh to be wrent from his shoulders.
He shivered, tears barely restrained, as grandma pulled him in.
“Never let anyone tell you how to be. Never do anything someone else wouldn’t do for you back. This world will want to beat you down and spit you out but I know you’re stronger than that.”
She got up, patting his head as the moon glinted in her spectacles and she grinned back with a fiery stare of her own.
One day, Amon would share it, for she had long since kinded the flame in his heart.
Burn, my grandson. Burn and show this world what you made of. Show them what I see in you, what you don’t see in yourself.
One day, you will.
One day, you will know how to look in the mirror and say, ‘I love you.”
“.....Could the knight have saved himself?”
“Every story has an end. Just….make sure yours is a good one.”
Nearing the end of her days, wondering the length of the shadow she’d cast, and if it brought others shade.
She hobbled off. The door shut behind her.
………God we are both overdramatic as fuck aren’t we.
Amon reminded himself to tell grandma to lay off the old testament for a while. She didn’t need that kind of toxic masculinity in her life.
_________
“You know, I’m going to tell you a story this time!”
Amon was waving a pencil, not because he was going to write God forbid anybody see his handwriting no siree, but rather when his hands were flailing and the unsharpened point was ready to fly from his fingers at any second and impale someone’s eye the creative juices were flowin and his imaginative boat was rowing and sure it may sink once or twice along the way but that was just apart of the creative process!
That, and procrastinate on writing said story for two goddamn weeks and when you went over your plot notes you wondered who this madman was who’d seized your journal and favorite fountain pen.
“It’s about time! You think I have time to keep running my lips Mr. I’m young and needy and I want to drive grandma into dehydration because I want to turn one bedtime story into fifteen?”
Amon averted his gaze, “Can I just say that you’re the greatest woman I’ve ever known and I hope I can have one ounce of your creativity so I can inspire the masses with the love and forgiveness you demonstrate so all the little children, not including me because five foot one and a half is not little by any means thank you very much…”
Napoleon complex much, sonny?
“And through all these wonderful…”, he coughed, “Parables I can conjure up surely everyone can and will find Jesus?”
He gave her the baby blue puppy dog eyes. She melted.
But she really didn’t want to.
“Has anyone told you that flattery will get you everywhere?”
“Yes, actually, you did.”
“Damn right,” she mentally gave her past self a pat on the back.
And Amon struck a match, lighting the fireplace with its grizzled logs, silvery bark peeled back as flames licked their sides all over. He cuddled up with grandma on the oversized recliner, leaning back. Eyes closed.
Like he could see, like he could taste and touch and smell and hear the story unfolding in his mind’s eye.
“Once, there was a tree, and she loved a little boy.”
It was growing now, its roots feeding into the forest. Birds came here to lay their young and worms burrowed in her rich soil beneath. Squirrels always found the best holes in her trunk to bury their nuts in, snuggled up all cozy as the wind battered her outsides but the tree saw that wind and told it where it could shove it cause no breeze would take away her warmth! She was happy and she liked it that way!
“And every day the boy would come, and he would gather her leaves, making them into crowns to play king of the forest.”
The squirrels were scampering away and here he came charging through the grass and falling into the bushes headfirst! He could take and take and take and twist those twigs and thorns into a wooden circlet befitting the child prince. And if he craned his ears he could even hear the fae sparkling and laughing and merrymaking as they poured wine from goblets neverending and gossiped about that adorable little child over there let’s go visit him no wait we can’t interact with humans can we kidnap him NO KIDNAPPING IS BAD.
Remember what happened with a midsummers night's dream, there’s a precedent for this shit!
“He would climb up her trunk, and swing from her branches.”
Don’t look down, whatever you do don’t look down like a tumbling sack of apples about to go splaaaaat. Climbing up to see the forest was definitely a good idea and you’re not going to throw up whatsoever.
“And eat apples, and they would play hide and seek.”
“Ready or not, here I cooome!”
“.....Oh, you’re right behind me.”
“I don’t think hide and seek is the best game if one party doesn’t have legs.”
“.......”
“And when he was tired, he would sleep in her shade.”
“I don’t want to go home, I want to stay with you but it’s getting dark and there’s monsters prowling about!”
“Whenever you are with me, I promise, I will keep you safe.”
And the boy stared up in wide eyed wonder.
“You….you…really mean that?”
She bowed her great head, leaves falling on his face, embracing him in a branch, pulling him close.
“I love you. And I don’t let harm come to those I love.”
“And the boy loved the tree very, very much.”
He pressed himself against grandma’s warm, woolen, side. She smelled like peppermint.
“The tree was happy."
He sighed, and Amon looked down, shivering. The clock went tick, tick, tick, and he wondered if he blinked, if he’d miss the seconds passing by.
“But time went by.”
He grew up and the world wasn’t small anymore. It wasn’t good to just imagine, you could no longer play pretend, you had to have a purpose for your life and fill that aching void that’d grown in your heart, didn’t you feel it beating? Take, take, take, my boy, you’re number one and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.
Forget about the tree, that withered shrub has nothing for you except to be food for the worms.
“And the boy grew older.”
He peered into grandma’s gaze. How many people had she lost over the years, and what hole did they leave in their absence?
“And he wanted. But that want wasn’t just a I want this colorful toy off the shelf, gimme, gimme, gimme. No, this was a need.”
“I am too busy to climb trees.”
“I want a house to keep me warm.”
But that little boy was left unheard, to just go back to the simpler times when he could just be a boy she could just be his tree. He was worthless and if he just had what everyone else had maybe it’d feel better, if he could raze and tear and break down the tears would stop flowing and the sirens would stop blaring and everything would just fucking shut down, for just one second please, for the love of God, be still.
“I want you. I want you in my life and you’re so far away but I think that’s just me.”
So he ripped the tree down and shed her emerald coat of leaves and wrent her into a stump so for himself he had a home. Her apples laid moldering and discarded, and maybe if he had cast their seeds out into the brush they both wouldn’t have been so lonely anymore.
“And he met the end of his days and they both had nothing left. She asked, ‘What more do you want of me?’ He didn’t know anymore.”
“Would you like to rest?”
He sat down on her stump.
And the tree was happy.
Amon sniffled, then there was snot. He shivered and wrapped his teensie head in his legs and grandma yanked him on over to her side and held him close and he ugly cried and she wailed right with him.
She hoped he knew it was okay to cry, so long as there was a crazy bitch like her to cry with him.
And finally he wiped his nose, eyes puffy, before he looked down, murmuring, “....I don’t deserve you.” Her heart sunk right along with his and she wondered where he learned that self loathing.
Was it by design?
The wind picked up and her’s fell, the wooden, mossy floorboards outside, the red paved bricks littered with cracked nuts and wilted flower petals, creaking right along with her.
“Are you, are you, coming to the tree?”
I could see, grandma and I, sitting there together on that worn stump. And maybe if you turned back the years you’d see the tree at the height of its youth with the freshest apples and sap running for miles. I’d be running too.
I knew who’d be watching and egging me on along the way.
“Where they strung up a man, said he murdered three.”
“Strange things have happened here, no stranger would they be
If we met at midnight, in the hanging tree”
Her dad taught her that song so long ago, with whiskey under his breath and a revolver at his belt. He might have been one who knew how to drink and drink till he dropped but he sure damn as well knew when to pour out, lest he become bloated for others’ sake.
“I never want you to become like that man, I never want you to love someone so much it comes at the expense of yourself.”
Amon’s voice was an echo.
“Are you, are you, coming to the tree?
Where I told you to run, so we’d both be tree?
Strange things did happen here, no stranger would it be
If we met at midnight in the hanging tree.”
Was the tree’s greatest sin, the inability to say no?
What befalls us when we answer yes?
But if I take and take and take from grandma what shall I have left?
“GRAAAAAANDMA!”
Amon sniffled.
“Are you, are you, coming to the tree?
Where the dead man called out for his love to flee?
Strange things did happen here, no stranger would it be
If we met at midnight in the hanging tree.”
Her singing became a flurry of notes, tapering out to the breeze.
It was quiet.
“I’m here grandma.”
They stood up and he took her hand.
“Let’s go to that tree together.”
And the grandma was happy.

Last year I started running my first ttrpg, I ambitiously (foolishly,bravely) started almost immidieatly running my own setting, a world called Vulner, a world frankly deserving of its own ttrpg system, as so many aspects of it are pretty unique and particular, and it's a cool world with lots to do.
My players have been having fun this whole time as have I, but man I would really like to have functioning mechanics, and create a much better experience.
I initially ran it using fate accelerated and then switched to dnd in the hopes I'd have access to more modules to integrate and a better understanding of how to add mechanics (this didn't really happen)
Please help, I've looked at so many systems and Ive got better at alot of things but I still haven't found something that really lets me build mechanics, I'm missing some fundamental philosophy or base function, some system I can put in without having to completely rewrite it.
If need be I'll happily tell you more about the setting, just please I could use all the advice and ressources I can get.
Tl;Dr
I've been running a setting that doesn't seem to fit any system, and Im struggling to find a way to design or adapt a system/mechanics.
Edit: thanks for all the initial suggestions, I should actually say what I'm looking for. To give you an idea
There are two sets of "magic": first magic and dark blood, First magic is fire and stars, its understood to be present in all life, it's basically just energy and anything living has plenty of it
Dark blood, is a black memetic substance that rained down on this world, it reacts to information around it, and has number of effects on this world, the biggest one being dark beasts, dark blood having taken the shape of monsters and continuing to evolve at a fast pace. (It's kind of complicated because it functions like a prism, very inspired by area x in the book/movie "ahniliation")
The world is devided in roughly 7-8 factions, with a few being spear led by NPC's that each are or can be a bbeg.
What Im trying to do is create forces first and then apply mechanics, so here there are, big lore/being/magic forces, big political/npc forces. There's also like many ways the world might end, looming threats, and big lore mysteries (like where first magic and dark blood come from and also a whole bunch of other threads and plots)
The players are each characters with important ties to some part of the world and the forces mentionned above, alot of the lore is built around them, one the players is the prince of the Owls one of the major factions, another is a mercenary for the Dark lady who's a dark blood scholar and a well loved very powerful noble another is a tea making ex-seer monk who takes and makes tea from plants with dark blood in them and is able to absorb the information gathered to have visions and make teas with particular proprieties.
Essentially, I want it to play alot like you expect d&d to play, payers running around regions, setting objectives or having quests thrust on them, building this larger darker story and narrative in the midst of ongoing adventures.
Right now the design structure is this: -d&d stats for every players as a basis
-an individual unique mechanic kit around which the character revolves, and affects how they engage with the world
ex: the mercenary functions as a detective and a fighter, has a journal from their missing mentor that allows them to roll if it contains information on the area and ongoing events, and high stats in investigations and so on, with as well a unique sword and decent stats for fighting And other characters like the ex-seer that are meant to have a kit mostly around collecting plants, making teas, and having a particular connection to dark blood (they have a pop up shop on them at all time they can roll out anywhere as well)
-a world that has alot of established lore the players can uncover, and that affects my rulings and on the fly world creating
-diverse collaborative tools to create more of the world on the go and include the players (I use 7-3-1, paint the scene, and tables of prompts I've written mainly)
The main problem right now i think, is that the d&d stats are painfully simple and bare In what the players can do with them, and that the Individual mechanics only exist in imagination there's very little to no system or structure to them. So whilst the setting is consistent, and interesting and engaging, the players have said they feel really vague about what their characters can or might do, that they don't really feel they have alot of actions available to them.
There's also some interplay I want to bring between the collaborative tools and the individual abilities, like the ex-seer being able to make up plants for the area their in, with maybe a mix of spending some kind of point thing like fate tokens, using tables and negotiating with the GM (for example maybe they describe a plant in a forest on a mountain that when boiled creates a volatile tea that can be used to breath fire, they spend some kind of point and because they describe it really well and it sounds like its exactly the kind of thing you'd expect in a mountain, they don't have to spend to many points or roll too high to make it happen)
Another very important part of how we play, though maybe less relevant here, is how silly the world often is. Theres plenty of bits, like how all bars stock owl portion sized glasses, or one of the characters they made up in a brief d&d session we had (we only played once) called roberino turned up in their first campaign and had been half the NPC's they'd met in a disguise. This part is fine but it is an important aspect of how the game plays.
I hope this provides a much clearer idea of what I'm trying to do/what I'm looking for here, if you read all of this, cheers mate 🍻 please let me know if you have any ideas/reactions to this.
Edit 2: thank you so much for all the conversations folks, I have a much better idea and direction for what systems might use, and a lovely list of interesting ideas and systems to absorb.
I'll keep engaging and thinking about any new suggestions anyone might want to add and I'll make sure to update this post with any interesting updates, for anyone who might be interested.

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Journal of Camille Lambert - April 12th

We could see the shadows of the Nightwalkers from our place by the bonfire. They peeked in through the broken windows of the church, watching us from afar but never actually entering the ruins. I’m not sure if the firelight was what kept them away, or the protective runes that Nina had drawn.

Nina sat on a fallen column, watching them in case they tried anything… and yet if I walked over to the right side of the circle of columns that we’d set up our bonfire in, she seemed… dimmer. Like she was there and yet not there at the same time.

Dom on the other hand was crystal clear. I could see him sitting by the door of the church. I couldn’t see him at all from the left side of the circle. The mist was too thick. But on the right side, he was right there, impossible to miss. The effect was surreal, to say the least. He was holding the device Nina had used to call in her backup. She’d called it a phone but it didn’t look like any phone I’d ever seen.

“ETA, an hour or so for the standby team in Tallinn, 15 hours for the rest,” Nina had said after she’d made her call. “Let’s get comfortable.”
I figured that it’d been about an hour and a half since she’d said that. Standing by the bonfire itself, the world past the columns seemed to be in flux. Sometimes I could see mist through the windows and the holes in the ceiling. Sometimes I could see stars.

Shadows of smaller Nightwalkers darted past the church door sometimes, lingering only long enough to look in on us before retreating back into the darkness. Nina watched each one like a hawk, gripping her shotgun tightly.
I walked out to sit with her for a bit, leaving the light of the fire for a little while. Even from her vantage point, I still couldn’t see Dom but at least I knew he was safe enough.
“How many do you think are out there?” I asked quietly.
“Too many,” Nina replied. “We’re not going back to Puriysk tonight, that’s for damn sure.”

As she spoke, I saw more shadows moving in the dark, skittering away into the mist.
“You sure you want to stay out here? Might be safer to stay with Dom,” I said.
“Probably, but it’s better if I stay here. If the door closes, I’m better off on the inside. Be easier to open it again, that way.”
“Fair enough,” I said, looking back out into the mist. I could see nothing past it.

No shadows. No movement. There wasn’t even any noise. Nina looked up at the darkness again.
“Is it just me or is it quieter out there?” She asked.
“No… it’s quieter out there,” I said. “Could be there’s a big one nearby. Dom said that the small ones usually avoid them.”

Nina kept staring out at the mist, but the silence remained. I wasn’t sure if she was genuinely worried or not. After a few minutes, I saw movement in the mist again. I heard the rustling of trees and saw something standing in the dark. I almost thought that it might have looked like a man… almost. But I couldn’t fully make out the shape of it.

I could see the eyes of the Nightwalker shining in the firelight, before it finally moved, darting out of sight. Nina watched it go, before returning her attention to me.
“Good news is, we won’t be alone for that much longer,” She said. “After the first group shows up, we can head into Puriysk with them and start setting up shop. By the time the rest of them arrive, we should be in a good place. After that, it’s just a matter of getting people out and dealing with Calhoun,”
“You make it sound easy,” I said.
“I mean, it probably won’t be a walk in the park,” Nina admitted. “But at least we won’t be running this job alone. These things go easier when you’ve got help.”
“Yeah… I imagine they would,” I said.

Beside us, I heard a dull thud as a piece of one of the church's more damaged walls fell away and crashed to the ground. Nina was up on her feet immediately, shotgun in hand. I rose to my feet beside her.
“The fuck was that?” She asked.
“Part of the wall, I think,” I said. I spotted the spot where it had fallen and looked up. It had probably come off one of the broken domed towers near the door. One of their ceilings had come down ages ago and I imagined it wouldn’t take much more than a strong gust of wind to knock over some of the loose bricks jutting out from where the roof remained. Nina approached the fallen piece of brick, pausing to inspect it.

“Hell of a big chunk of wall,” She said before looking up again. I did the same, although as I did, I could’ve sworn I saw movement out of the corner of my eye. I looked over at it. The shadows cast by the bonfire left pools of darkness along the ceiling.

But in those pools, I could see flickering reflections of light.

Two of them.

Staring right at me.

Slowly I reached out, putting a hand on Nina’s shoulder. I didn’t want to yell or move too quickly. I couldn’t see what was in the darkness but I know that it looked poised to strike. Nina looked over at me, before tensing up. I knew that she saw it too. The eyes remained trained on us, and I heard a low, animal hiss coming from the shadows.
“Bonfire…” Nina said, gripping her shotgun tighter “Get Dom… now.”

I took a step back and saw the eyes following me. Nina backed away from the shadows, eyes never leaving the ceiling. I saw limbs splaying outward from the darkness. I could see them tensing up. It was going to lunge.

“MOVE!” I said, breaking into a sprint, but it was too late. The Nightwalker launched itself at Nina like a bullet. I heard her shotgun fire twice, before the creature crashed into the ground, flailing violently. I could see long, dark limbs, more than any human should have struggling to pick itself up. I could see a body that only vaguely resembled a man. It had a torso, a human head, and long black hair, but looked more like a spider than a person. And yet there was something off about it. Something I hadn’t seen on any of the other Nightwalkers. This one had some kind of sigil on its forehead. Something that looked almost like a crimson eye, that seemed to glow with surreal energy.

The Nightwalker looked at Nina, snarling at her. When it opened its mouth, I could see rows upon rows of teeth inside. She fired her shotgun again, but the creature barely even seemed to notice them. Even after she’d gone through the trouble of cursing them, her rounds weren’t doing anything.
“RUN!” I heard her yell, and I didn’t dare question that. I just ran.

I sprinted toward the bonfire, just in time to see Dom running toward me. He took aim at the Nightwalker, firing at it as it tried to go after Nina. But his bullets did next to nothing to it. The Nightwalker didn’t even look at him.

It just kept going for Nina, almost pinning her down. She unloaded two more shells into its face, which did little more than make it flinch and bought her some time to run.

This time, she took off at a sprint toward the bonfire. Dom saw her running and started to backpedal as well, running back toward the bonfire and the safety of the columns. The creature paused as we took shelter by the fire, watching us intently and letting out another serpentine hiss. Nina stared back at it, before looking back at the fire. She tossed her shotgun aside and hastily grabbed one of the spare branches we’d kept for the bonfire. She put it in the fire, before pulling it out and brandishing it like a weapon. The Nightwalker hissed and recoiled a bit, focused on the flame. As it paused, Dom grabbed Nina’s shotgun off the ground and took aim.

“Don’t…” She said, putting a hand up to stop him, her voice low and intense. She didn’t dare look away from the Nightwalker. “Save the cursed rounds… they won’t kill it. Just get outside.”
“What about you?” Dom asked.
“Outside,” Nina repeated. “Now.”
I put a hand on Dom’s shoulder.
“Let’s go!” I said, trying to tug him along behind me.

He hesitated for a moment longer before finally letting me take him. We backed through the right set of columns, and once we were through I saw Nina taking a step away from the bonfire, toward the right set of columns. The Nightwalker passed the left set of columns, trying to follow her.
“Come on…” She said under her breath, “Come and get me, shithead…”

I saw it inching closer to her, and tensing up again, getting ready to pounce. That was when Nina made her move. She thrust her burning branch into the Nightwalker's face, earning a cry of pain from it and making it jerk back. I saw it swatting at the branch, trying to get rid of the fire. Nina took the chance to run, sprinting at top speed toward the door of the church.
“GO!”

Neither of us needed to be told twice. We ran for the church door, as the Nightwalker let out a roar from behind us. I looked back to see it charging toward us again, gaining ground. As we ran back out into the field, we were greeted by countless blinding lights. I saw Nina pause, before feeling her grab me by the back of the shirt and pull me away. I could see Dom in her other hand. She dragged us both down to the ground in the instant before the Nightwalker emerged from the door of the church.

I saw it recoil, putting up its clawed hands to try and shield its eyes from the blinding light.

Then I heard the gunfire.

As my eyes adjusted to the light, I could see several men, each holding automatic rifles advancing on the Nightwalker. It shrank back toward the church, trying to shield itself from the gunfire, clearly overwhelmed. But just like with Nina’s shotgun before it, the bullets did little to harm it. Despite all the gunfire it took, it didn’t fall. I could hear it hissing, I could see its beady black eyes darting around wildly. It lunged forward again, tackling one of the nearby men and tearing into him, before going after another. I saw its jaws close around his skull and heard the sickening crunch of bone as it took his head. The other men scrambled back, trying to put as much distance between themselves and the Nightwalker as they could. It howled in rage, preparing to charge after them when a final, deafening gunshot echoed through the night.

This time, the Nightwalker's entire body seized up. It let out an agonized scream. I could see its clawed hands clutching at a wound that had appeared on its chest… and I could see smoke rising out of that wound. It kept screaming and thrashing violently. Its limbs gave out from underneath it. I could see the wound in its chest sizzling and burning. I saw the flesh and skin sloughing off of its body, and I could see the pale white bone underneath.

The eye sigil on its forehead flickered before fading away and the Nightwalker let out one final, howl before collapsing to the ground, its body still twitching and convulsing. I looked over to see a single woman standing calmly by the nearby trucks. She was tall and pale, with long, stringy black hair and an intense look in her eye.

She was dressed in a long beige coat and holding an ornate revolver in one gloved hand. As the Nightwalker died I saw her gingerly slip the pistol into the inner pocket of her coat before reaching into another pocket for a notebook. Without ever looking away from the dead Nightwalker, she scribbled something down, then pocketed the notebook again and calmly walked toward the church, not even pausing to acknowledge anyone else around her. As she left, I saw the other armed men tending to their dead. With the Nightwalker dead, I could get a better look at them now. They were dressed like soldiers, with bulletproof vests and no shortage of pockets. A few of them wore netted veils over their faces, making it hard to get a good look at them and giving them an eerie appearance, although watching them examine the bodies of their dead and respectfully carrying them away was almost humanizing.

Nina sat up, her blonde hair messy and a somewhat disoriented look on her face. She looked over toward the source of the lights that had blinded us. Four large SUVs were parked outside of the church, their headlights shining on the door. From those SUVs, I could see more armed men getting out and one of them was coming toward us.

“Nina Valentine?” I heard him ask. He had a heavy Slavic accent.
“Still alive,” She said, as she slowly climbed to her feet.
“Good. I’m Olev Kallas, I’m from the Tallinn Office, Director Durand sends his regards,” He offered Nina a hand to shake and she reluctantly took it. “The Director is currently en route, as are the rest of the team. In the meanwhile, we’re here to help.”
“Yeah and right on fucking time too,” She said, looking over at the dead Nightwalker.

“Ah… yes, you can thank Dr. Di Cesare for that,” Kallas said.
Nina raised an eyebrow. I had a feeling that she recognized the name, but she didn’t comment on it.
“But first, I imagine you and your friends must need a hot meal and a cold drink right about now and I can get you both.”
“Oh you’ve got no fucking idea…” Nina said, as Dom helped me to my feet. She waited until we were up, before gesturing for us to follow as Kallas led us toward one of the SUV’s.

***

I barely recognized the empty field around us as Puriysk. The buildings were all long gone and in their place was a paved highway that I’d never seen before.
“The town’s been gone for as long as I can remember,” Kallas said. “I couldn’t tell you if it was us, or the Soviets who got rid of the ruins. I read somewhere that there was some talk about refurbishing the old Church, but as you see, nothing ever came of it.”
“Thank God for small miracles,” Nina said, “Made my job a hell of a lot easier.”

We drove down the highway, past the wide open landscape and as we drove, I couldn’t help but admire it. In the distance, I could see the lights from another nearby town and watched as they drew closer and closer. God, I’d never seen a place so full of life before. As we drove along the quiet streets, past the sleeping buildings in the early hours of the morning, they still seemed so alive. Street lights cast a warm glow on the few passersby out doing their business. There were more cars on the road than I’d ever seen before, some driving past us to their own destinations and others parked and still.

“I can drop you three off at a hotel if you’d like,” Kallas offered. “You can get cleaned up and have a short rest before Director Durand arrives. I can pick up some fresh clothes for you, and then we can have a debrief over dinner.”
“Yeah, works for me,” Nina said before looking over at us.
“Dinner sounds good,” I said, although at the time I had no idea what exactly a hotel was. Thankfully, I got my answer pretty quickly.

The room I got was comfortable. The bed was softer than anything I’d ever laid on before and the hot water… oh God… I spent almost an hour in the shower alone, enjoying the steam and feeling the tension drain out of my muscles. When I was done, I put on a soft, fluffy bathrobe and laid down, letting myself relax for the first time in days. I almost dozed off… and maybe I would have if I hadn’t heard a knock on my door.

I considered ignoring it and just letting sleep take me, but I figured I might as well make sure it wasn’t important. Tying my bathrobe a little tighter around me, I got up to answer the door and was greeted by Dom, still wet from the shower.

“Hey,” He said. “Sorry, I hope I’m not bothering you!”
“It’s fine!” I replied, putting on a smile, “Come on in.”
I opened the door all the way to let him inside, but he hesitated.
“No, it’s alright. I just thought I’d check on you. It’s been… well, it’s been one hell of a past few days. And this feels like the first chance we’ve had to really breathe in a while.”
“Yeah, no kidding,” I sighed. I still held the door open for him. “Well, we’re not going to have this conversation in the hall, so come on in. I’ve got a coffee machine in here and I’m dying to try it out.”

I’m not sure if it was the promise of coffee that made him accept my invitation or the realization that I probably didn’t want to be in the hall with just a bathrobe on, but he came inside anyway.I went to the coffee machine and tried to figure it out. They had these little cups that I’d never seen before, but otherwise, it seemed fairly straightforward.

“Man… it’s really something else out here, isn’t it?” Dom asked, going to sit down on the bed. “It’s just so bright out here!”
“I’m still not entirely convinced I’m not dreaming,” I admitted. I managed to get one of the cups into the coffee machine and watched as it pissed out a somewhat pathetic amount of scalding hot coffee that admittedly did smell very nice. It had a lovely vanilla aroma.
I brought the first cup over to Dom.

“Glad I’m not the only one,” He said as I went back to make another cup, “Honestly, I wasn’t even sure if Nina’s backup was even going to come through and I sure as hell didn’t expect any of this.”
“You and me both,” I said with a sigh, “Is it wrong to say that I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop?”
“Well, when something seems too good to be true…” Dom murmured, “Although then again… looking at what we had in there compared to what Nina’s been telling me about life out here, I can’t help but wonder if we’ve had it bad for so long that even the smallest good thing would seem too good to be true.”
“That’s a disturbing thought,” I said.
“Maybe. But what if it’s true?”

I didn’t know how to answer that.
“Either way… this isn’t much more than a break, isn’t it?” Dom asked, “The calm before the storm. I know that after we talk to the Director, Nina’s going right back in… and I’m going with her.”
I nodded before taking my coffee and joining him on the bed.
“I know,” I said. “And I’m going with you.”
“You know that you don’t have to, right?” Dom asked. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I know that this kind of thing isn’t exactly in your wheelhouse. I’m not saying to just let it be or anything, but there’s other ways to help that don’t involve shooting things and burning down buildings.”

Again, I paused.
“Maybe,” I said. “Honestly, whatever I can do, I just want to do it. Whatever it may be. I’ve been just accepting things the way they were for too long, the same as you. I don’t want to just accept it anymore! I can’t.”
“And you aren’t,” Dom said, “I mean… shit, I watched you take pot shots at a Nightwalker the other night. Ever since we left, you’ve done whatever you can to help out. You’ve done a hell of a lot more to fix things than anyone else I know. That takes a hell of a lot of strength. More than I’d probably have in your shoes… honestly, you’re half the reason I’m still doing this, Cam.”

I looked at him and felt his hand pressing over mine.
“Only half?” I teased, trying to distract from the shade I could feel my cheeks flushing.
“Well, there’s everyone else too.” He said, “But right now, the one I care the most about is you.”
I actually broke down laughing at that and gently pushed him away.
“Too much?” He asked.
“No,” I said. “Just right.”

I let my head rest on his shoulder and for a little bit, we just sat together, hand in hand and beautifully content. I sensed him hesitating for a little while, before finally seizing the moment and placing his hand on my chin. I let him. He lifted my face and pressed a gentle kiss to my lips, one that I all too happily reciprocated.

After all… who knew when we’d get another chance?

***

The restaurant that Kallas brought us to was fairly quiet, although it wasn’t empty. As we walked in, I could see a large table set out with faces both familiar and unfamiliar at it.

Nina had washed almost an entire layer of dirt and soot off her face. Her hair looked cleaner and she was clearly wearing new, cleaner jeans. Although I didn’t think she’d actually changed her T-shirt. I recognized it by the neckline, but I’d never seen the whole thing before. It had a graphic of a warning label on it that said: ‘DO NOT USE FOR WET GRINDING’ although the ‘DO NOT’ part was crossed out in red.

Had she seriously been wearing that the whole fucking time…? At least it looked like she’d recently washed it.

Beside Nina, I saw Natalya, looking a little more cleaned up and wearing new clothes. Someone must have gotten her out of Puriysk earlier that day. The dark haired woman that Kallas had named as Dr. Di Cesare sat on the other side of Nina, although she was more focused on her own journal than any of us.
Lastly, I saw a man I didn’t recognize at all. He was tall and looked to be somewhere in his fifties, with wavy blond hair and a clean shaven face. He was dressed in a nice but slightly wrinkled suit.

The blond man was the first one to speak.
“Mr. Kallas, good to see you again,” He said as he got up to greet us.
“Director Durand, I have to say that the pleasure is all mine,” Kallas said, shaking Durand’s hand. His attention turned to us next.

“You two must be Camille Lambert and Dom Hoskins, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Milo Durand. I’m the Director of the Fae Relations Bureau’s Department of Public Safety.”
“Hell of a mouthful,” Dom said, shaking Durand’s hand.
“Just call us the FRB for short,” He said with a smile, “Take a seat. Dr. Di Cesare and I wanted to take some time to go through the situation with the Calhoun Pocket.”

Kallas pulled out some seats for us and we sat down. There were glasses of water waiting for us at the table. As soon as we sat down, Dr. Di Cesare glanced up at us, but didn’t close her notebook.
“So… now that we’re all here. Where should we begin?” Kallas asked.
“Well for starters, I’d like to get a solid picture of what exactly we’re going to be walking into when we send the rest of our people into the Calhoun Pocket,” Durand said, “Mr. Kallas, I’m aware you’re detachment has already properly secured Puriysk. But I’ve got some questions regarding the other towns so we know what else to expect once we’re inside.”
“What exactly is it that you want to know?” I asked.

“Well for starters, we need access to the other towns. We were told that navigating between them could be difficult, but I imagine there must be some way to circumvent that,”
“There is,” Dom said, “The roads don’t always go to the same places, but there are always landmarks and turns. You can use those to navigate.”
“One of the files I found in the archive at the Deputy’s Office has a list of landmarks and directions to reach the different towns,” Nina added, “I emailed you a copy earlier to go over,”

Durand nodded.
“Excellent. Which leads me to my next question. Infrastructure. I can’t imagine Calhoun’s been running a show like his without some means of providing food and power to the other towns. I’m aware that Rankin Mills had a power plant, so I figure that Calhoun is using that to keep the lights on. But what about food, gas, supplies?”
“Most of the food comes from Bakersfield,” I said. “There’s a lot of farmland there, most of it fairly safe from the mist. I used to work at a Roadhouse in Thompson Falls. We’d get deliveries every week or so.”

“I see… what about Puriysk and Thompson Falls? What’s there?”
“Puriysk was where they trained a lot of the Sheriff’s Boys,” Dom said. “They had the largest Deputy’s Office outside of Parsons. And Thompson Falls was more of a mining community. Lotta the construction work that was done in Parsons was done by people brought in from Thompson and Puriysk.”

Durand raised an eyebrow.
“Construction in Parsons?” He asked.
“Calhoun’s sorta been using it as his capital. Far as I can tell, he’s been trying to build up the towns, although Parson’s the one that’s gotten the most attention,” Dom said. “I guess it’s as close to a capital city as we’ve got in there. He also mentioned the ‘Sovereign Nation of Calhoun’ although I haven’t heard anyone outside of Parsons use that name.”
“Sovereign Nation of Calhoun…” Durand repeated, before glancing at Nina. She just gave a slightly defeated nod as if to say: ‘Yeah, he actually called it that.’

“Okay… let’s talk about Calhoun himself… what do you know?” Durand asked.
“Not a hell of a lot,” Dom said, “Closest I’ve ever come to actually meeting the guy is when he spoke to us outside of the church last night. Other than that, he rarely leaves his house in Parsons and rarely appears in public and most of what I’ve heard is just rumors.”

“Whatever you’ve heard… odds are that it’s true,” Natalya said quietly, drawing all eyes at the table over to her.
“I’ve heard the story enough times now… first from my mother, then from so many afterward. One day, the days just grew dimmer. The clouds above us just grew so thick that you could not see the sun and the mist drifted through the streets. The roads no longer led to the same places… and at night, the shadows moved, devouring any in their paths alive and screaming. First, it came for Parsons, then Rankin, Puriysk, Bakersfield, and Thompson. One by one. In time, it will come for others. He will come for others.”

Durand leaned in a little bit, listening intently. Dr. Di Cesare had also paused, listening as Natalya spoke.
“My mother told me that after the change, Calhoun’s people began to enter the town. Drunken louts, filling up the bars demanding free alcohol in exchange for ‘protection’ from the things outside. Although even with the alcohol, they still left bodies in their wake.”
She paused, slipping back into old, bitter memories.

“She told me of the ways Calhoun had changed Puriysk… most of the men either joined his little militia out of necessity or were given other jobs where they were worked to the bone. And the women…” She paused, “The homemakers he generally left alone but the young and the pretty ones found their way into the brothel. After all, his soldiers needed something to do to pass the time when they weren’t drinking and acting like children with guns. Governor Calhoun raped Puriysk, just the same as he raped every other town he took. All my life, I’ve watched as he’s milked them for his own gain and spread like a disease across new towns, looking for more. Before I even understood what home was, he had taken my home from me. Before I was old enough to speak, he had taken my life from me. Because of him, I grew up in a brothel in a town that does not exist.”

Durand was silent, before looking at Nina who drummed her fingers on the table.
“Valentine?” He asked.
“Like Dom said, the only interaction we had with that guy was when he talked to us last night,” She said. “I’m not a psychologist but I’d figure most of what he said is pretty on par with what a narcissistic megalomaniac with delusions of grandeur would probably say. It was probably a whole lot of horseshit… probably…”
“But?” Durand asked. Nina sighed.

“There was one thing he said that stood out, he said that if we killed him, we’d be killing everyone else in the pocket too. He made it sound like his life was tied to it, or something. I don’t know if he can actually fucking do that or not but I’m also not sure I’d want to chance it. Some of those documents I found in the Puriysk archive mentioned Calhoun and something called ‘The Eldest’.”

At the mention of the name, Dr. Di Cesare looked up.
“Gretchen,” Durand asked, “Do you recognize that name.”
Gretchen Di Cesare gave a curt nod before flipping through her notebook to a previous page. As she did, I noticed her sleeve lifting briefly, revealing a tattoo on her wrist. Two wavy, parallel lines. It looked like the zodiac sign for ‘Aquarius.’
“The Eldest… Old Fae. ‘The eldest’ according to myth, hence the name. Few documented encounters. None modern…” She paused to think for a moment, “Hard to kill… harder to control. Would need the heart either way. No small task but… possible… probable.”

“Old Fae?” I asked, “What exactly is that?”
“More or less exactly what it says on the tin,” Nina said. “Really old forest fae who got fucked up by the Midnight Grove… and a real fucking problem if that’s what we’re going to have to deal with. Do we even know how to kill an Old Fae?”
“As stated, the heart,” Dr. Di Cesare said, “Find that, kill the Fae. Would reckon that Calhoun has it. If not on his person, then somewhere safe. And should that fail…”
She removed the revolver from her coat pocket and set it down on the table without a word.

“A contingency. Custom revolver, specialized blessed rounds - Malvian ice.”
I saw Nina raise an eyebrow.
“You put Malvian ice in a gun?” She asked.
“What’s Malvian ice?” I asked. I figured that this conversation required a bit of context.
“Frozen mist, obtained from the domain of an Ancient God. In essence, a part of the God herself” Dr. Di Cesare said. “Weaponized - could kill anything beneath the Ancient Gods. Never tried it with bullets before, but the live fire trial yielded promising results.”

My mind flashed back to the Nightwalker we’d run into last night and the way its flesh had melted away after Dr. Di Cesare had shot it with that gun. The memory sent a chill through me.

“So you built a gun that can shoot an Old Fae dead?” Nina asked. I couldn’t tell if she was disturbed by the guns existence or excited to try it out.
“Old Fae, Grovewalkers, and most lesser Gods, amongst other things,” Dr. Di Cesare said. “So long as it has a physical form, it can be killed.”
“Dr. Di Cesare agreed to assist us with this job, in the interest of doing her own research on the Calhoun pocket,” Durand added. “The gun is her contribution to this project. It’s intended as more of an emergency measure than anything else. But if necessary, we could use it to kill whatever is allowing Calhoun to control the pocket reality.”
Nina just whistled and sat back in her chair. She seemed almost at a loss for words.

“So… all we need to do is shoot Calhoun or this ‘Eldest’ thing with that gun, after we get everyone out and we’re golden, right?” Dom asked.
“I would regard The Eldest as a higher priority than Calhoun right now,” Durand said. “Calhoun could have been lying about tying his own life to the existence of the pocket reality, but I’m not willing to take that gamble if I don’t have to. Right now, my gut is saying to try and take him alive.”

“He’s not gonna go quietly if we try,” Nina pointed out. “Hypothetical question, if we destroy the heart, would that take the risk of killing Calhoun out of the equation?”
“No. Whatever spell was used, would not die with the caster,” Dr. Di Cesare said.
Nina nodded thoughtfully.
“I see. Fuck.”

“To your point though: Killing Calhoun is likely inevitable. And while I lack any meaningful data on the spell used by the Eldest or how to circumvent it, I can predict the timeframe of such a collapse. The effect would not be immediate. Could take minutes, hours or days. There may be a window for escape.”

“We'll have time to cross that bridge when we get to it,” Durand said. “Last question I’ve got is about the local militia, but Mr. Kallas and I can discuss that with Valentine and Mr. Hoskins separately. In the meanwhile, I believe our first order of business should be eliminating collateral. We’ll start with Puriysk, then move on to Rankin Mills, Bakersfield, and Thompson Falls. Once we’ve cleared out those towns, we’ll focus on Parsons and Calhoun. Mr. Kallas, I’ll leave it to you to oversee the evacuation efforts. It’s probably redundant to say this, but we’ve got our work cut out for us, ladies and gentlemen so let’s keep our heads down, our minds sharp and get through this as cleanly as possible. Now… without any further ado, I promised you people dinner and I’m not going to put you all to work on an empty stomach. So, as the Estonians say: ‘Head isu.’”

***

Looking back, there was a sort of bittersweetness to that evening. On one hand, I don’t remember the last time I’ve eaten so well. After dinner, I went back to the hotel, enjoyed my hot shower, and sank into my warm sheets, waiting for Dom to come back from his meeting with Nina, Kallas, and Durand.

And yet… at the same time, all I could think about was what would happen in the morning. In the morning, we’d be leaving again, going back to Puriysk. Back to Calhoun. Part of me almost dreaded it, fearing that if I left this place then I’d never get to come back again.

But listening to Durand and the others talk during that briefing… so much of it went completely over my head and I couldn’t help but feel like that was a good thing. They’d been focused, precise, knowledgeable and most of all, prepared.

Calhoun’s threats lingered in the back of my mind, but they seemed so much smaller now. I struggled to imagine that Calhoun and the Sheriff’s Boys could do much the face of what had come for him, even with some kind of all powerful Fae at his disposal. Just Nina alone had been enough to rip Puriysk from his grasp… what could an army of her do?

I should have taken comfort in that idea. I did take comfort in that idea. But I still couldn’t help but worry all the same. Maybe what Dom had said earlier was true. Maybe we’d had it so bad for so long that even the smallest good thing now seemed too good to be true… maybe. When Dom came back, I was waiting for him. We lay in bed together, talking quietly to each other about what was going to happen in the morning, and holding hands, we drifted off into sleep.

Hello voles forum. I am using a new account in fear of reparations. I won’t mention where I am writing this from, but I just have to let somebody else know what has been happening these past few weeks. First, a little backstory. I am what most people would pretty well much call a normal folk-type, I am originally from New Mexico, but have been living about an hour outside of Reno, Nevada for the past twelve years. Like many of you, I am close friends with Bunhein. About a month back, I invited Bun to go to a Shen Yun performance to which he readily accepted.
Fast forward to the night of the show, we arrive, take our seats, and the show starts. About fifteen minutes into the show I noticed that Bun was more fidgety than usual. I asked him what was wrong, but he just shhh’d me and I continued watching the show. Another twenty minutes went by when I noticed Bun sweating, his eyes darting back and forth, scanning for someone, or something. This time I pushed him harder for an answer as to what was wrong with him, that is when he showed me the gun he was holding tight. My eyes went wide and I nervously asked what in the Sam Hill he was doing in a hushed voice. He replied with certainty in his voice that something was watching him, and that he had to be prepared. I looked around, trying to look for whoever it was that Bun thought was watching him. I looked for a solid five minutes before I told Bun that nobody was watching us. His eyes widened even more than they already were, staring blankly into the distance. I could tell something was wrong with him, so I grabbed him by the arm and tried to reassure him that he was safe. He started yelling, screaming, shouting that Hard Leon was coming, I was confused and Bun started running for the door. I tried to stop him, but at this point the music had stopped playing and everyone was staring at us. Bun burst out of the auditorium as I followed him out the door. He looked both ways, running across the street and into a nearby alley. Once Bun stopped running I just stood staring at him, he looked back, the panic slowly subsiding from his face. I shouted at him, asking him what the hell he was doing, why he ran away, and why the hell he a gun on him. Bun looked somber, and I could tell immediately that something was wrong. He spoke after about thirty seconds of silence and said he was sorry, he told me there was nothing to worry about and that he would talk to me later. I grabbed him by the shoulder, trying to stop him from leaving, but he was strong enough to push me away. In the end I let him go though, I shouldn’t have let him leave, but I did.
The next day I got a message from Bun, he said he was sorry for the way he had acted the previous night, and even invited me to watch the super bowl with him. Unfortunately, I had already made prior engagements, so I let him know that I couldn’t make it. He seemed slightly upset, but got over it soon enough. I told him that I would try to make the drive down to him the day after the superbowl, to which he agreed. I let him know that I would text him when I was close so he could lock his pets up for me, as I have severe allergies.
Fast forward to the day we were supposed to meet, and I wake up to a text from Bun, he told me that he wasn’t sure if I should come after all, stating that he had a feeling that something was wrong. I sent him a message back, telling him to loosen up, and that nothing was wrong. I got in my truck and started driving to Bun’s trailer in Tonopah, about 3 hours away from where I live. When I was close to his home I texted him, letting him know that I was nearly there and that he should start locking up the animals. Now usually Bun would reply within three to five minutes, but as I was driving down the road to his house I checked my phone and realized he hadn’t replied. I thought it was strange, but considered that maybe his phone was dead or something, I park outside of his house and get out. I made my way to his front door, but when I went to knock I realized that his door was already slightly ajar. Taking a step back I decided against knocking and tried calling Bun. From the open window I heard what sounded like buzzing, I tried looking through the window, but the screen door blocked most of my view. I contemplated turning around, but in the end opened the door to his trailer.
The first thing I noticed, upon entering his trailer, was the distinct smell of marijuana, nothing too strange, I knew Bun was a frequent smoker, but this time the smell was overwhelming. I walked into the living room and saw what looked like a small pile of green leaves with a smoldering pile of weed sitting on his table, Bun’s phone was on the floor next to the table, I went to pick it up, but felt that if something had happened here, the last thing I would want is my fingerprints all over the place. I made my way into Bun’s kitchen, and found a bunch of hand scribbled notes stuck to the fridge with magnets. Carefully grabbing only the papers I tugged them off of the fridge door. I didn’t stop to read them, but put them in my pocket to read later. I exited his kitchen, but stopped when I looked across the living room and saw that his bathroom door was now open, I felt my heart skip a beat as I slowly inched my way towards the bathroom. I peaked my head inside, and my cheeks went flush when I saw Bun’s pets, at least what was left of them, strewn about the place, awash with blood. I nearly passed out as I looked upon the mangled bodies of his animals. I rushed out of his trailer and made for my car, tripping over Bun’s trash on the way out. As I pushed myself off the ground I felt my hand press against a bundled up A&W wrapper. It was mangled and bloody, but I could make out something written on it in marker- “Hard Leon- transformation possible”. I had no time to think at this point, I just got up off the ground and ran for the safety of my car. I noticed, from the corner of my eye, that the curtains to Bun’s kitchen were now wide open. I distinctly remember them being closed, but I was in such a rush that I didn’t care to think about it at the time. I just put the keys in the ignition and hauled ass down the road from Bun’s trailer.
Making my way into town I spotted Bun’s truck pulled into the parking lot of his favorite donut place. I sighed in relief realizing that Bun was alright, so I pulled into the spot next to him and turned off my car. As I made my way up to Bun’s truck, I realized that the door was open already, and a trail of blood was leading away from the truck. Worried, I followed what was presumably Bun’s blood to a hidden door behind and underneath the donut shop. Hell, I don’t even know if the owners of that shop knew about this place. Lucky for me, the door was unlocked and I made my way inside. It was dark so I had to use my lighter to make my way down a ladder inside. When I got to the bottom I was able to make my way without the lighter, thanks to dimly burning lights. Cans of open food were strewn about, and posters of football teams hung the walls. He had really made a home out of this bunker. As I made my way into the center of the room, the light illuminating the far wall, I gasped. My chest suddenly strained, I found myself unable to breathe. Leaning against the wall was what was left of Bun, his stomach had been sliced pretty badly and his arms were hanging limply as if he was trying to keep the wound together with his bare hands. I tried to check his pulse, but he was already gone. I fell to the ground, nearly vomiting at the sight. I gathered myself and reached for the small journal hanging at Bun’s side. I pretty well much ripped the thing off his belt as I noticed the drawings of a coyote, but it’s face was drawn as if the thing had been smashed in with a cinder block. This same picture was on most of the pages, as I began to read I felt my stomach lurch.
As I’m sure you’ve heard him mention, Bun was always bringing up a cryptid he’d called “Hard Leon”. I had always laughed it off thinking him to just be acting like his normal aloof self, but now I started to realize how serious Bun had been about it all. I flipped through the pages, landing on the last one, the date read February 13th, today. At the bottom of the page was a number with the name Gordon listed next to it. I went to reach for my cell phone, but I had stupidly left it in my car. I placed a blanket I found in the room over Bun’s body, as I made my way back up the ladder.
As I exited the door leading outside I felt that presence again, as if something was staring at me. I hurried my way to my car, but stopped in my tracks when I realized my window was broken. I opened my door and rummaged through my car trying to find my phone, but realized that whoever had broken my window must have taken it. I nearly started panicking, but was able to remain calm for the most part. Sweeping the broken glass off of the driver's seat, I got in my car and made my way to the nearest motel. It was a gimmicky place, a clown motel, but I didn’t have any other options, so I booked a night. I made my way into my room and immediately went to dial the number I had found in Bun’s journal. You might ask why I didn’t call the cops, but to be honest I don’t trust the police all that much, and coupled with the circumstances surrounding Bun’s death, I doubt they would have believed my story.
I began dialing the number in Bun’s journal and waited for an answer, but none came. I decided to try again, and luckily this time Gordon picked up. First there was silence, but a second later I heard, “Hey, this is Gordon D! Who’s this?”
I waited a moment before telling him I was Bun’s friend. Asking why I was calling him, I ended up explaining everything that had just happened. The silence on the other end of the phone was deafening, and after what felt like an eternity, I asked if he was there. “I’m still here,” he replied, but I could hear the tears forming in his throat. “Where are you?” Gordon asked, catching his breath again. I let him know which motel I was staying at, and he said he’d be there in a few hours before abruptly hanging up.
And so I waited. This had to be the most agonizing six hours and twenty seven minutes of my life. I sat in this damned clown motel, pretty well much having Krusty the clown stare me down, it was around 8 in the evening when I heard three short knocks on my door. I cautiously made my way to the door, staring out the peephole I saw a middle aged man, who I assumed was Gordon. Opening the door, I asked his name and he replied in a sarcastic manner, telling me I was a dumbass for even asking. This guy was a grade-A asshole, I don’t know how such a kind hearted soul like Bun would have even known this guy, but here we are. I tossed Gordon the notebook, and he took a good long look at the thing. Muttering to himself, as he read, he took a pause before he spoke to me.
“Bun- he got himself into deep s&*t. I don’t think he will be getting himself out of it this time. If you didn’t believe in Hard Leon before, you best be begging for his mercy now. To make a long story short, Hard Leon got Bun. Killed him, twisted him up, ripped him apart however you saw. Before this, I knew what Hard Leon was capable of. He could take the form of other things. One moment, I see a damn tangue vermin hangin’ about around the trailer, after Hard Leon’s had his way with the thing, tell you what, you’ll still see the same damn tangue vermin around, but not the same mentally. Pretty well much what I am trying to say is Hard Leon took the shape of whatever he killed. I never thought he would have it in him to go after humans, but I guess he decided to prove me wrong today. Now Bun never believed me when I told him my theory of Hard Leon being able to take the form of his victims. I guess he ought to have changed his mind by now. Hard Leon done and killed Bun, and is now trying to impersonate him.” I stared at Gordon for what felt like hours, but in reality could have been no more than twenty seconds.
The silence was broken by a swift punch to my stomach from Gordon, he started laughing and said, “Hey dumbass, you there, why you staring like a damn fool,” I replied, “Sorry, just trying to figure out what in the sam hill you are talking about.” Gordon replied sarcastically, “A little slow in the heard, are ya? Need me to spell it out for you? Hard Leon killed Bun,” he said slowly, emphasizing how dumb he thought I was.
I tried to punch him back, but he easily dodged, and hit me again, this time a lot harder. I fell to my ass, and yelled at him to stop hitting me. I stood up and asked, “So, what do we do now? Now that Bun’s gone, do you think Hard Leon will come after you and me next?” Gordon laughed saying, “I hope he comes for me, bastard will be sent to the grave in about half a second flat.” I muttered an alright and asked about what to do if he comes after me, Gordon replied, “You’re pretty well much f*$#%*d if that happens.” My heart fluttered and I tried to ask what he meant, but Gordon only continued speaking, “Listen, what happened to Bun, it’s a real shame, but it also presents us with an opportunity,” I tried to hide my look of skepticism as I spoke, “Opportunity? What do you mean?” Gordon looked me in the eyes, all sense of humor gone from his voice he said, “A chance for us, to kill Hard Leon.” My voice came out weakly, “Kill… Hard Leon? How are we supposed to do that?”
Gordon smirked this time and laughed, “Now, you aren’t gonna like the sound of this one. Since Hard Leon presumably took the shape of Bun, well, we are gonna have to kill whatever monster it is that he’s made out of Bun.” This is when the realization hit me. Gordon wanted to kill Bun a second time. As I stared in shock, he continued, “I never have seen Hard Leon take a human, like I said, but we’ve got to make this the last time Hard Leon has this kind of power. I don’t know what he wants out of taking the shape of Bun, but I think for now, we will have to let this one set, and see what plans Hard Leon has. When the time is right, we will know when to strike back.”
And so it went. Gordon set up base in the motel with me, and we waited for the storm to hit. The first thing we noticed was Bun’s internet presence. He pretty well much fell off the face of the Earth for about a week. The Voles forum noticed his absence, users were concerned, but we couldn’t let them know what happened. We sat there, as hopeless and lost as the rest of everyone on the forum until a week later, Bun, or whatever creature he had become had made his return online. It started with him liking a couple of tweets on his account, and eventually him posting to the forum, squashing the “rumors” of his death that had started in his absence. Dear god, if only the users had known what truly happened. Everyone rejoiced, everyone was happy to see Bun back online, everyone but Gordon and I.
Of course, Gordon and I still participated in the forum with “Bun”. We would talk to him, but we noticed he wasn’t the same as he used to be. He was cold and harsh toward Gordon, who used to be one of Bun’s closest friends, but now he seemed to have made an enemy of Gordon. Gordon tried to post hints to the truth onto the forum. He faked a news article and an obituary for Bun’s death, but of course, with Hard Leon in control of the account, those were readily denied. I’m not quite sure how Hard Leon did it, he seemed to have matched the past Bun perfectly, in voice, in tone, in the way that he interacted with the fans. But this was most certainly not the same Bun I ever knew. The Bun I knew was dead and rotting under a donut shop in Tonopah, and he would be disgusted by the way this creature was abusing his power, tricking all of his friends and fans, slowly luring them into his trap.
A few days ago, Gordon had managed his way into a conference call with Bun and some of the fans of the forum. I sat and watched from afar, as I listened to perhaps the most sickening event I had ever seen play out before me. All Gordon did was play an audio clip, one that he was sure would help to convince the fans that the Bun they were talking to wasn’t Bun at all. It started with Gordon speaking, letting the fans know that he was taking over the show for a moment. He was trying to rile Hard Leon up a bit, calling Bun the dumbest redneck out of Tonopah, and the like. It was playing with fire truly, but we knew that this was the best way to get Hard Leon to shine through and show people the truth. And that was it, Hard Leon came out that night in a way we had never seen before. “Bun” had flipped out at the truthful accusations Gordon threw at him, breaking the rules of his own forum and disappointing everyone in the room. I know what I heard that night, I know what I had been hearing for the past month. I know that what I knew of my friend Bun is no more, but now I just need everyone else to know. We need to avoid Hard Leon before it’s too late. I know, I’m still torn up about losing Bun, pretty well much just like the rest of you. But the truth is out there, and the fact of the matter is, the more we play into Hard Leon’s game, the faster he is going to take each and every one of us, leaving us dead and rotting the same way he did Bun. Hard Leon wants to take over the forum. He wants everyone’s soul in the forum. I don’t know why, but I know it is happening. So please, spread this message. It is what Bun would have wanted. What the REAL Bun would have wanted.

Round 2 Results
129 Bands Battle To The Death
Vote for your favourite Death Metal band in daily polls, 1 band with lowest votes eliminated from each group until next round, bands that share lowest place will be chosen at random for elimination
Eliminated bands will be shown by ~~Strikethrough Text~~
(*) = Finished Poll
Once each poll has ended the next round will commence
Lastly, controversy is expected with these sort of posts but discussion is good so share your opinion
Groups:

Death, Fallujah, Arch Enemy, Teitanblood, Brujeria, Massacre Group 1
Bolt Thrower, Spawn Of Possession, Blood Incantation, Hath, Diskord, Sinister Group 2
Necrophagist, Timeghoul, Suicide Silence, Waking The Cadaver, Skinless, Krypts Group 3
Obituary, Edge Of Sanity, Ulcerate, Analepsy, Soilwork, Internal Bleeding Group 4
Carcass, Rivers Of Nihil, Possessed, Pissgrave, Sadist, Assuck Group 5
Cannibal Corpse, Pestilence, Insomnium, Regurgitation, Abyssal, Kalmah Group 6
Cattle Decapitation, Full Of Hell, Unleashed, Deeds Of Flesh, Akercocke, Caustic Wound Group 7
Napalm Death, Wintersun, Obscura, Defeated Sanity, StarGazer, Convulse Group 8
Morbid Angel, Dragged Into Sunlight, Septicflesh, Abominable Putridity, Brutality, Kronos Group 9
Behemoth, Grave, Imperial Triumphant, Vital Remains, Monstrosity, Inanna Group 10
Immolation, Slugdge, Hypocrisy, Gatecreeper, Afterbirth, Beyond Creation Group 11
Gojira, Deicide, The Chasm, Hate Eternal, Psycroptic, Exhumed Group 12
Amon Amarth, Dark Tranquility, Tomb Mold, Devourment, Brutal Truth, Appalling Spawn Group 13
Entombed, Autopsy, Intestine Baalism, Decapitated, Aborted, Phlebotomized Group 14
Gorguts, Dismember, Gates Of Ishtar, Assuck, Origin, Broken Torso Group 15
In Flames, Atheist, Jungle Rot, Dead Congregation, Quo Vadis, Cephalic Carnage Group 16
Fleshgod Apocalyspe, Asphyx, Demigod, Sanguisugabogg, Malevolent Creation, Wormed Group 17
Cryptopsy, The Black Dahlia Murder, Benighted, Amorphis, Repudilation, Ripping Corpse Group 18
Archspire, Bloodbath, The Faceless, Katalepsy, Ceremonium, 1914 Group 19
Nile, Vader, Rippikoulu, Benediction, Human Remains Group 20
At The Gates, Children Of Bodom, Portal, Adramelech, Scar Symmetry Group 21
Suffocation, Dying Fetus, Mortician, Undeath, Garden Of Shadows Group 22

I see Reasonable_Message54 also had the idea of merging Stellaris and ChatGPT. Hopefully my approach is equally as interesting!
So I wanted to see if ChatGPT could breathe life into our Empires. Basically I had ChatGPT to create what is happening in my empire as a response to different events such as anomalies and research completions. I could honestly see a future feature like this become part of future grand strategy games because of just how much flavor it gives to the game.
I will warn that the set up was very manual, with me summarizing and creating my own descriptions of leaders, research, and events, but I’m sure there is a way to scrape the game for this info. It also requires you to essentially take detailed notes of your play through as you go, which can be tedious. Hell, I might see if GPT-4 can do it later. Basically I asked ChatGPT to create content based off of “Logs” that I provide it.
Here is the original prompt:

Me: I want to play a game of Stellaris with a creative twist using you. What I want you to do for the following responses is that, without fail, when I provide a prompt starting with "Log" followed by a number, you: 1. generate a short story snippet or quote from a random named official based on information I provide you, 2. generate the civilian's perceptions of the some of the events described, 3. generate short news segments based on the events, 4. Describe how the new technology is changing industries and day-to-day lives within the civilization 5. Ask follow up questions about consequences of events in any previous log. Feel free to completely add new details or thoughts, creatively, about anything that I do not explicitly describe. I may prompt additional details after each log and those prompts that do not explicitly begin with "Log" should not follow the aforementioned format and should focus on what I ask of you. I will provide you with the year, officials' names and professions, technology researched, significant events, and other relevant details. The next prompt will describe the civilization. Please say, "Acknowledged" if you understand your task.
ChatGPT: Acknowledged. I understand my task and will provide the requested information in the format you have described. Feel free to provide the details of your Stellaris civilization and prompt me with "Log" followed by a number to generate the desired content.

I added another rule before generating my first log:

Before that I have an additional instruction: I want you to create content only regarding the past and present of the period of time I give you. Do not generate content speculating future events. Acknowledged?

I chose the UNE at first because its rather generic and the lack of contemplation of genocide made it be the best approach for this first experiment, if only because you wouldn’t get interrupted by ChatGPT moralizing at you. I basically copy and pasted the UNE description into it. I'll post text transcripts but can show you some of the actual logs with ChatGPT if you'd like.
Here is my first log at year 2200 and the response to it.

Me:
Log 1
Year: 2200
Officials: o President: Dolores Muwanga – Does not shy away from conflict. Preaches a secure food supply and investments in agrarianism. o Governor of the Core Sector: Wayne Stanley - A well connected individual that keeps everyone on the same page. o Explorer: Na Tan of the UNS Tereshkova(An Explorer Ship) – Makes thorough analysis of unknown phenomena
Research • Head of Physics Research: Tshanduko Dimka – Resilient and in peak physical condition. Researching Quantum Theory • Head of Society Research: Ines Gagnon – A specialist in Statecraft. Studying Biodiversity. • Head of Engineering Research: A specialist in Voidcraft. Researching Nanomechanics
Technology: • Hyperdrives: Hyperlanes connect stars in an intergalactic web. This faster than light engive travel along these hyperlanes to adjacent star systems
Significant Events: • The first spaceships capable of interstellar flight launch to explore the stars.
ChatGPT
Log 1
Year: 2200
Official quote: President Dolores Muwanga addressed the nation, "As we venture into the stars, let us not forget our roots. A secure food supply and strong agrarian foundation will keep us grounded and resilient in the face of the unknown."
Civilian's perception: Many citizens were excited and hopeful about the prospects of interstellar exploration, but some worried about potential conflicts with alien species. They were reassured by President Muwanga's commitment to maintaining a strong agricultural base.
News segment: "In a historic moment for humanity, the United Nations of Earth has launched its first interstellar spaceship, the UNS Tereshkova, led by the renowned explorer Na Tan. The ship will follow hyperlanes connecting stars in an intergalactic web, paving the way for humanity's expansion into the cosmos."
Industry and day-to-day life changes: With the development of hyperdrives, the space industry experienced a significant boost, with new companies emerging to support the burgeoning interstellar exploration and travel market. The general public began to dream of a future where they could visit distant stars, while scientists and engineers found new opportunities to study the cosmos.
Follow-up question: How has the research in Quantum Theory, Biodiversity, and Nanomechanics impacted the overall technological capabilities of the United Nations of Earth, and what are the practical applications of these technologies in the civilian and military sectors?

Impressed by its adherence to the instructions, even if I found President Muwanga's call to secure a strong food supply at the advent of FTL a bit funny, I asked it to create an interview between Na Tan and a reporter.

Reporter: Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. Today, we have the privilege of speaking with Na Tan, the explorer in charge of the UNS Tereshkova, the first spaceship capable of interstellar flight. Na, thank you for joining us.
Na Tan: It's a pleasure to be here. I'm always happy to discuss our upcoming mission.
Reporter: Let's dive right in. What is the primary objective of the Tereshkova's mission as it ventures into the uncharted territory of nearby star systems?
Na Tan: Our main goal is to survey and explore nearby star systems to gather valuable data on potential habitable planets, resource-rich celestial bodies, and any signs of alien life or civilizations. The information we collect will be crucial for future colonization and resource extraction efforts, as well as establishing diplomatic relations with potential alien species.
Reporter: That sounds like a groundbreaking mission. How have you and your team prepared for this voyage into the unknown?
Na Tan: The entire crew has undergone rigorous training to prepare us for the challenges we may face during our journey. We have experts in various scientific disciplines, engineering, and diplomacy. Our ship is equipped with state-of-the-art technology, allowing us to collect detailed data, communicate effectively, and maneuver through any obstacles we may encounter.
Reporter: Speaking of technology, can you tell us more about the hyperdrives that make this interstellar exploration possible?
Na Tan: Certainly. Hyperdrives are faster-than-light engines that allow us to travel along hyperlanes, which connect stars in an intergalactic web. This technology has revolutionized space travel, enabling us to traverse vast distances in relatively short periods of time. It's what makes this entire mission possible.
Reporter: As you embark on this exciting journey, what do you consider the biggest challenges or risks your team might face?
Na Tan: There are several challenges we anticipate. First, the unknown nature of the star systems we'll be exploring means we need to be prepared for any contingencies. Second, if we encounter alien life, we must be cautious and diplomatic, as their intentions and reactions may be unpredictable. Lastly, the crew's wellbeing is a top priority, so maintaining physical and mental health during the extended mission is crucial.
Reporter: And what would you consider the most rewarding aspect of this mission for you personally?
Na Tan: For me, the opportunity to be at the forefront of humanity's expansion into the cosmos is truly an honor. The knowledge we gain, the experiences we have, and the potential for discovery are immeasurable. It's an incredible privilege to be part of this historic journey.
Reporter: Thank you, Na Tan, for taking the time to share your insights with us. We wish you and the entire crew of the UNS Tereshkova a safe and successful mission.
Na Tan: Thank you, and we appreciate the support from everyone back on Earth. We're eager to embark on this adventure and share our discoveries with all of humanity.

With that I was off, and became impressed by how much I could get it to generate based on the event log. Here is a series of example generations. It's not everything I generated but, here are some highlights:
One of my governors gained the Corrupt trait so I fired and replaced him. Here’s an article about an investigative reporter uncovering my governor’s crimes:

Title: "The Fall of Wayne Stanley: A Tale of Corruption and Deceit"
In a stunning turn of events, Governor Wayne Stanley, the once-trusted and well-connected leader of the Core Sector, has been arrested on charges of corruption. New revelations from an in-depth investigation by a tenacious reporter have exposed a complex web of deceit, embezzlement, and abuse of power that shook the very foundation of the United Nations of Earth's (UNE) governance.
For years, Stanley appeared to be a competent and effective leader, guiding the Core Sector with a steady hand. However, investigative reporter Sarah Winters grew suspicious of Stanley's activities after noticing several discrepancies in budget reports and resource allocation documents. Determined to uncover the truth, Winters embarked on an extensive and daring investigation that would ultimately expose Stanley's corruption.
Through meticulous research, interviews, and dogged pursuit of leads, Winters discovered that Stanley had been siphoning off public funds for personal use, diverting resources meant for infrastructure and social projects into secret offshore accounts. In addition, Stanley had been awarding lucrative contracts to companies owned by his family members and close friends, often without proper bidding processes or competition, further enriching himself and his inner circle.
Stanley's corruption extended beyond financial misdeeds. Winters' investigation revealed that the once-admired governor had used his influence to suppress dissenting voices and silence whistleblowers within his administration. Those who attempted to expose his malfeasance or question his decisions found themselves demoted, reassigned, or even threatened.
The final nail in the coffin came when Winters discovered that Stanley had been collaborating with a criminal organization that operated within the Core Sector. In exchange for a cut of their profits, Stanley had provided these criminals with protection from law enforcement and crucial information about resource shipments, enabling them to carry out their illicit activities with impunity.
Armed with a mountain of evidence, Winters published her findings in a series of explosive articles that sent shockwaves through the UNE. The people were outraged, and the demand for justice was swift and resounding. Stanley was promptly arrested, and his once-promising career came crashing down.
In the wake of Stanley's arrest, the UNE has pledged to implement stricter oversight measures and anti-corruption policies to prevent similar scandals in the future. The people of the Core Sector are now tasked with rebuilding their trust in their government and healing the wounds left by Stanley's betrayal.
Sarah Winters' fearless reporting serves as a stark reminder of the importance of a free press and the power of investigative journalism to hold those in power accountable. Her dedication to uncovering the truth has made a lasting impact on the United Nations of Earth and has reaffirmed the crucial role that journalists play in safeguarding democracy.

That anomaly where you find an abandoned life pod with a mummified reptilian clutching a photo? Here is an article about my scientist’s thoughts on the discovery:

Title: Elegy for a Lost Traveler: Reflections on the Alien Life Pod and the Fragility of Existence
In the vastness of the cosmos, amidst the swirling nebulas and the twinkling stars, lies a breathtaking paradox: the simultaneous insignificance and miraculous nature of life. The recent discovery of an abandoned alien life pod, drifting silently through the void, has prompted me to reflect on this cosmic contradiction and the universal emotions that bind us all.
The life pod, covered in scorch marks and evidence of an ancient catastrophe, has been a haunting reminder of the transient nature of existence. The reptilian alien found within, its withered remains still clutching a small picture of another of its kind, has stirred within me a deep sense of empathy and sorrow.
As a researcher, I am consumed with curiosity, compelled to unlock the secrets of the universe. And yet, as I gazed upon the lonely figure in that life pod, I was struck by the profound realization that even the most groundbreaking discoveries are dwarfed by the simple, universal emotions of love and loss.
The final moments of this extraterrestrial traveler must have been harrowing. As the life pod jettisoned from its dying mothership, the alien found solace in the image of a loved one. Did this being think of its family, its friends, or perhaps its homeworld? Did it know that it would never see them again? And in that moment of despair, did it feel the same fear, the same yearning for connection that we, as humans, experience in the face of our own mortality?
In our quest to understand the universe, it is all too easy to forget that we are not merely observers, but participants in a grand cosmic drama. Our lives, and the lives of our alien counterparts, are woven together in the intricate tapestry of existence. We are united in our vulnerability and our capacity for love.
The abandoned life pod serves as a poignant reminder that, despite our differences, we are all travelers on a shared journey through the cosmos. As we forge ahead into the unknown, let us not forget the fragile beauty of life and the universal emotions that bind us to one another.
In the end, we are all stardust, adrift in the infinite expanse of space, seeking solace in the arms of the ones we love.
By Rosa de Rosa

I got ChatGPT to generate personalities, with quirks and flaws, for each of my explorers based on my description of their traits. I then generated a televised debate of events occurring in the UNE:

[The stage is set with five chairs arranged in a semicircle, and a moderator stands in the center. The explorers enter one by one, taking their seats.]
Moderator: Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to this special televised debate between the renowned explorers of the United Nations of Earth. Tonight, we will discuss their recent discoveries and the technological developments that have arisen from them. Let us begin by introducing our esteemed panel: Na Tan, Rosa De Rosa, Kurt Sauer, Jean Renard, and Radmila Volkova. Without further ado, let's dive into the first topic: the recent discovery of the abandoned alien life pod by Rosa De Rosa. Rosa, please share your thoughts on this matter.
Rosa: (excitedly) Thank you. This discovery represents a remarkable opportunity for us to learn more about an ancient civilization that we previously knew nothing about. The life pod is more than 5,000 years old, and the reptilian alien we found inside offers invaluable insight into the race's biology and culture. I believe this discovery could open the door to many more revelations about the universe we inhabit.
Kurt: (interrupting) Hold on, Rosa. While I agree that it's a fascinating find, I think you're overstating the significance of this one discovery. We've come across countless ancient civilizations in our explorations, and there's no guarantee that this one will be any more revealing than the others.
Rosa: (annoyed) You're just jealous because I found it, and you didn't, Kurt. Your dismissive attitude is precisely why you're not taken seriously sometimes.
Jean: (smirking) Please, Kurt, don't take it personally. Rosa is simply overzealous about her discoveries, as always. Though I must admit, this find has potential, even if it's not as groundbreaking as she claims.
Radmila: (calmly) I believe we should focus on studying the artifacts and information we've gathered from this life pod. Perhaps we can find some common ground between this civilization and others we've encountered in the past.
Na Tan: (nodding) I agree with Radmila. Instead of arguing, we should analyze the data we've collected and determine its true significance.
Moderator: Thank you for your input, everyone. Let's move on to our next topic: the new powered exosuits that have been invented. Kurt, you've been testing these suits during your explorations. What are your thoughts?
Kurt: (enthusiastically) These exosuits are a game-changer! They've enhanced our speed and strength, making our explorations more efficient and safer. The potential applications for these suits are endless, from construction to military use.
Jean: (rolling his eyes) You're always so easily impressed, Kurt. Sure, they're a neat invention, but they're hardly revolutionary. Our society has been inventing new technologies for centuries, and this is just another incremental step forward.
Kurt: (angry) Oh, I'm sorry, Jean. I didn't realize you were an expert on everything. Just because you didn't invent it doesn't mean it's not significant!
Rosa: (jumping in) Actually, I have to side with Kurt on this one. These exosuits could significantly impact our society in various sectors, and their development shouldn't be dismissed so quickly.
Radmila: (pensively) While I see the potential benefits of the exosuits, I worry about the possible ethical implications, especially in military applications. We must be cautious about how we use this new technology.
Na Tan: (agreeing) Indeed, we should weigh the pros and cons before implementing these exosuits on a large scale.
I tell it to make it more wild
Moderator: (trying to maintain control) Alright, let's all take a deep breath and move on to our next topic: the recent discovery of the primitive Klenn civilization. Na Tan, you've been observing their progress. What are your thoughts on how we should interact with them?
Na Tan: (calmly) We must approach this situation with caution and respect for the Klenn people's sovereignty. I suggest we observe from a distance and avoid interference in their natural development.
Rosa: (incredulous) Are you serious? We have the chance to learn so much from them, and you want to just sit back and watch? We could help them advance their technology and make their lives better!
Jean: (sarcastically) Oh, of course, Rosa. Because we've done such a fantastic job with our own civilization, haven't we? What could possibly go wrong?
Kurt: (angry) Damn it, Jean! Can you just give it a rest for once? Not everything is about one-upping each other. We're talking about real lives here!
Radmila: (trying to mediate) Everyone, please, let's not let our emotions get the better of us. It's essential to consider the Prime Directive and not interfere with the natural development of other species.
Rosa: (snapping) Oh, spare me the lecture, Radmila! We're not talking about some abstract concept here; these are people who could benefit from our help. Why the hell shouldn't we offer it?
Na Tan: (raising her voice) Because it's not our place to play god! We don't know the consequences of our interference! We could cause more harm than good!
Jean: (smirking) Well, this is quite the spectacle. I should have brought popcorn.
Kurt: (yelling) Shut up, Jean! Just shut up! You're always poking and prodding, trying to get a rise out of people. Well, guess what? You got it! Now sit down and let the adults have a conversation!
Moderator: (frantically) Alright, that's enough! Let's all take a moment to collect ourselves and remember that we're here to have a civil discussion. Please, let's try to maintain some decorum.
[The explorers take a moment to regain their composure, glaring at each other as they prepare for the next round of debate.]
I tell it to end on a philosophical note
Moderator: (calmly) Thank you all for taking a moment. Now, let's try to discuss something more philosophical in relation to the events happening in the UNE. Considering our recent discoveries and technological advancements, how do we define our responsibility as a civilization to the galaxy and other species we encounter?
Na Tan: (thoughtfully) Our responsibility should be to protect and preserve the natural development of other species. We must be cautious not to impose our values and beliefs onto others, as it could lead to cultural imperialism.
Rosa: (passionate) I don't disagree with preserving cultures, Na Tan, but we also have a responsibility to share our knowledge and help those in need. We can't just turn a blind eye to suffering or stagnation. It's about finding the right balance between intervention and observation.
Kurt: (nodding) I agree with Rosa. There's a fine line we have to walk, but I believe we can do so without trampling over other civilizations. It's about cooperation and mutual understanding.
Jean: (smirking) Oh, how noble. But let's not forget that we're not perfect ourselves. We're still dealing with our own internal conflicts and trying to maintain peace in our own society. Maybe we should focus on that before trying to save the galaxy.
Radmila: (reflective) While it's true that we have our own issues to address, I believe we can learn a great deal from our interactions with other species. Sharing knowledge and experiences can benefit both parties and lead to a better understanding of the universe around us.
Moderator: (summing up) It seems that, despite our differences, we can agree on one thing: the importance of understanding and respecting other cultures and species. As the UNE continues to explore the galaxy, we must remain mindful of our responsibility to both ourselves and those we encounter.
[The explorers nod, still tense but acknowledging the common ground they share. The debate concludes, leaving viewers with much to ponder about the UNE's role in the galaxy and the challenges that lie ahead.]

You guys remember that alien mercenary who carved his story into the mountains of a planet in that one anomaly? Here is his complete story:

Title: "Warrior of Stars: The Journey of a Lost Soul"
Prologue: Beginnings of Hardship
I, Drak'Kor, born in world of strife. War was language, only means to survive. I learned combat, seeking honor and power. Young and naive, I not understand true cost of violence.
Chapter 1: The Mercenary's Path
I leave my home, seeking fortune and glory. I became mercenary, a warrior for hire. Across the stars, I fight for others' causes, regardless of merit. The battlefield was my canvas, and death was my art.
Chapter 2: The Weight of Regret
After battles, I haunted by faces of fallen. Guilt and sorrow, they become my constant companions. I learn that true strength not in conquering others, but in taming inner demons.
Chapter 3: A Search for Redemption
My journey takes me far from home, to distant corners of galaxy. I search for purpose, a way to atone for the suffering I've caused. In each new system, I hope to find redemption, but it eludes me.
Chapter 4: A Final Resting Place
I come to this lonely planet, a desolate world of rock and dust. Here, I find solitude and silence, a respite from the endless conflict. I decide to share my story, to leave mark of my existence, in hopes that others learn from my mistakes.
Chapter 5: The Carving of a Legacy
With mining laser, I etch my story into the mountains. The act is cathartic, a release of pent-up emotion. My tale now forever immortalized in stone, I hope others find my words, and perhaps, learn from my journey.
Epilogue: A Message to the Stars
As I, Drak'Kor, reach twilight of life, I leave this message for those who come after. Know that every life holds value, and true strength lies not in destruction, but in compassion. May my story serve as a beacon, a warning to others who walk the path of the warrior.
Remember me, Drak'Kor, not as the mercenary I was, but as the lost soul who sought redemption among the stars.

Here is the movie’s screenplay:

Title: Drak'Kor: A Tale of Blood and Honor
EXT. DESERT PLANET - DAY
A harsh and unforgiving desert landscape stretches for miles. A lone figure, DRAK'KOR, an imposing and battle-scarred alien mercenary, trudges through the sands, weary but determined.
INT. TAVERN - NIGHT
A dimly lit, rough-and-tumble tavern filled with various ALIEN SPECIES, engaging in raucous laughter, drinking, and brawls. Drak'Kor enters, drawing the attention of the patrons.
BARTENDER What brings a warrior like you to this wretched hive?
DRAK'KOR I seek a target. A dangerous criminal, ZOLTAAR. Have you heard of him?
BARTENDER Zoltaar? That name carries a heavy price. He's been hunted by many. Few have returned.
DRAK'KOR I'll be the one to bring him down. Tell me where he hides.
The Bartender hesitates, then leans in and whispers the location to Drak'Kor.
EXT. ZOLTAAR'S HIDEOUT - DAY
Drak'Kor infiltrates the heavily guarded fortress of ZOLTAAR, fighting his way through numerous ENEMIES with deadly precision.
INT. ZOLTAAR'S THRONE ROOM - DAY
Drak'Kor confronts Zoltaar, a sinister and powerful alien warlord.
ZOLTAAR (laughs) Do you really think you can defeat me, Drak'Kor? I've crushed entire armies!
DRAK'KOR I've faced worse than you, Zoltaar. Your reign of terror ends today.
An intense battle ensues. Drak'Kor and Zoltaar fight with every ounce of their strength.
INT. ZOLTAAR'S THRONE ROOM - LATER
Drak'Kor, battered but victorious, stands over the defeated Zoltaar.
DRAK'KOR Your bloodlust ends now, Zoltaar.
Drak'Kor apprehends Zoltaar and leaves the fortress.
EXT. DESERT PLANET - NIGHT
Drak'Kor gazes at the stars, reflecting on his life as a warrior, and the heavy price he has paid for the path he has chosen.
DRAK'KOR (voiceover) In the end, it's not the battles that define us, but the choices we make, and the sacrifices we bear. I hope that my tale will serve as a warning to those who would walk the path of blood and honor.
FADE OUT.
THE END

Here is an angry rant decrying the historical inaccuracies of the movie:

Title: A Travesty of History: The Distortion of Drak'Kor's Tale
As a fervent admirer of ancient alien history, I found myself utterly appalled by the blatant distortions and inaccuracies present in the recently released screenplay, "Drak'Kor: A Tale of Blood and Honor." The story of Drak'Kor, the legendary alien mercenary, deserved far better treatment than what the screenwriter provided.
First and foremost, the true tale of Drak'Kor is far more complex and nuanced than the simplified and clichéd narrative presented in this screenplay. It is insulting to reduce such a rich and diverse life story to a mere series of brawls and showdowns. Drak'Kor was a deeply introspective individual, not just a ruthless killing machine. The screenplay strips him of any depth, turning him into a one-dimensional character.
The portrayal of Zoltaar as a sinister and powerful warlord is another gross distortion. In reality, Zoltaar was an ambitious and cunning politician, one who wielded influence and power through manipulation and diplomacy, rather than brute force. The choice to transform him into a stereotypical villain undermines the real challenges Drak'Kor faced when trying to apprehend him.
Furthermore, the screenplay completely omits the pivotal role that Drak'Kor's companions played in his journey. It was through their support and camaraderie that Drak'Kor was able to confront and overcome his own personal demons. By sidelining these crucial characters, the screenplay robs Drak'Kor's story of its true emotional weight.
Lastly, the very premise of Drak'Kor etching his story into a mountainside using a mining laser is misunderstood. It was an act of penance, an attempt to leave a lasting legacy and a warning to future generations about the heavy cost of a life devoted to war. This crucial aspect of Drak'Kor's character is entirely absent from the screenplay.
In conclusion, "Drak'Kor: A Tale of Blood and Honor" is a disservice to the rich history of the alien mercenary and a slap in the face to those who genuinely appreciate the intricacies of his story. I urge the creators to revisit the source material and provide a more accurate and respectful retelling of this fascinating tale.

I got to about year 2014 when I hit the big weakness here. If you get too crazy in the generating, you eventually hit ChatGPT’s token limit(basically the amount of words it remembers in the conversation) and it forgets your initial prompt. Those with the API could probably circumvent this somewhat using the instructions field. However this token limit also means it will forget past events after a certain amount of words as well. You can give it the prompt again to refresh if you like. Right now I’m working out how to get it to summarize my current logs so I can run it through and continue the playthrough a bit but it’s down as of the time I’m writing this.
This was honestly a fun experiment and you can probably do this in a much better way than I did it haha.I was essentially taking notes for this after all and chose the most generic civilization haha. I can actually see features like this present in many future games with some refinement. Imagine what you could do with more directions. You could actually have notable characters logging their thoughts on each expedition or see how your civilians (or slaves) are processing news across your empire.
Let me know if you want more details on how I did things. I want to see you guys get some interesting outputs.

This is just the intro, and the 1st chapter of the book I'm working on, I'm going for a adventure/supernatural kind of thing, I haven't asked many people to read what I have so far, so I was hoping I could get some help here, thank you, and enjoy what I think I'm gonna name Lineage of Sin

Introduction
A human can do many things, some good, some bad, but they cannot comprehend the world that was given to them by god, but the men and women we’ll be talking about are not of this world, nor were they created by god. Well, I can’t say they are just men and women, they are more than that, I suppose you could call them beings of sorts. Powerful beings, so powerful their very own birthplace couldn't contain them, the pits of hell itself.
Chapter 1: Friendly Reunion
A man is walking down the streets of New York City, he was someone you would notice if you walked past him, his outfit was slightly unusual, but he was well-dressed. He wore a big black coat with fur on his sleeves and on his collar, underneath he wore a white dress shirt over a gray vest and a black dress jacket, with black tailored pants with gray dress shoes, Unusual looking rings on each of his finger on his left hand, and a large black briefcase with a white inlay in his right, and long white hair that went past his shoulders. The man was walking to his favorite restaurant, five-star of course, he had a craving for meat. The man hardly had a care in the world, just thinking about whatever he desired, but while lost in thought he managed to notice something that didn’t belong. Something he was hoping to avoid during his stay in New York, he realized he was being followed. The man realized he probably won't be able to make his reservation on time, so he looked through the corner of his eyes to see who or what was following him. A man dressed in formal attire, as if he is a lawyer, or an important company's Ceo, but the man knew better, he knew he wasn’t some average joe you’d see on the street. The man looked around his surroundings, he walked towards an alley he spotted on his right, the strange man continued to chase after him down to the alley, but when he looked down the alley there was no one there. The stalker carefully, yet casually walked down the alley, the stalker was worried he would be discovered, so he wanted to end his business quickly, he walked down to the end of the alley, nothing but overfilled garbage cans. The alleyway was a deadend, so he assumed that he may have climbed out of the alley, but he doubted it since there wasn’t much time for the man to do so, he was starting to to believe that he actually climbed out of the alley, since he was nowhere in sight. He decided to turn back around to continue to search for the man he was tasked with stalking. As soon as he reached the entrance to the alley, he heard the sound of rocks, rocks falling on the ground. He turned around to face the man he was stalking, who was standing in a hole in the ground. “You were hiding underground? What are you, a mole?” The stalker mockingly said. “More demon than mole, really. You smell human, but I sense a strong flow of magic coming off you, are you a mage?” The man questioned the stalker, hoping he could find the reason why someone sent a magic user to follow him. He had few people in mind who would do this, but he knew none of them had a reason to do it, so he will have to question the stalker to answer the questions he needs to know. “I’m a Conjuration Mage, a fairly good one, if I do say so myself, and I’ve been charged with escorting you to my employer.” The man sighed, he scratched the back of his head a couple times, it appeared to be a nervous habit, which is very unbecoming for someone like him. “Well, I guess it can’t be helped, you should know the chances of you making it out alive are pretty low, nothing against you, of course, I just think maybe we can both agree that I’m far stronger than you, that is of course, if you know who I am.” the stalker tsked, he had loosened his tie, so that he may toss it onto the ground. “Do I know who you are? You are one of the seven deadly sins, Mammon, the sin of greed, correct?” The man known as Mammon softly cackled, almost like a maniac, but more subtle, more like the craziness is under control, yet slowly leaking out. “Yes, you know who I am, but I don’t know who you are, you told me you’re a mage, but that isn’t a identity, that is a affiliation, and besides, I can tell just by looking into your eyes, that you take no pride in being a mage, you desire more than that, you want to be stronger, you want to be the strongest mage of all, an archmage.” The stalkers eyes widened, he had never told anyone his one true desire, the last time an archmage was alive was nearly 3,000 years ago, but he had read books upon books on how to become an archmage, but it all pointed nowhere, he has been trying to become an archmage for almost 20 years, but has failed in every attempt, granted that even if you trained your entire life to become a archmage, the chances of you achieving it are incredibly low, it requires true talent to become an archmage, but there just aren’t any genius around anymore. “It appears you aren’t called the sin of greed for nothing, you know exactly what my heart desires, what I have yearned for all my life, and my name is Samuel, Samuel the Golem Tamer.” Mammon whistled, as if he was impressed. “If you specialize in golems, than all that training to become an archmage wasn’t all for nothing, the last time I saw a mage who was actually good at controlling golems was about a thousand years ago, controlling one golem is immensely difficult on its own, but judging the quantity of magic I sense from you,you can control at least three of them at once, but I’m guessing they’re size is smaller than a normal golem.” “It’s like you can read my mind, yes your right, I can summon up to three at a time, but the size of them isn't all that impressive, so that's why I’m just going to make one big one to subdue you, I’m not ignorant enough to underestimate someone like you, a sin I mean.” Samuel had studied more than your usual mage, he knew very well who the seven deadly sins are, Lucifer the proud, Satan the furious, Leviathan the jealous, Beelzebub the voracious, Belphegor the indolent, Asmodeus the lascivious, and finally Mammon the avaricious, that is the demon that stands before this human mage, and he is also one of the five founder demons of hell. At the beginning of creation,god first made heaven, and then the earth, and finally he decided to create hell, but what god did not expect was that he would not be the only creator that day, out of some unknown source hell itself created the five founder demons, Satan, Beelzebub, Asmodeus, Mammon, and Belphegor, one of the benefits the founder demons discovered is that when they gained the powers of hell, or dark magic, they gained the power of the five elements, Mammon is the soil of hell, or also known as the earth, meaning he has complete mastery of earth magic, which is how he helped humans discover and mine gold, that is also how he was hiding in the ground, but when god learned that his own creation would follow his example, he was impressed and decided to let them be, later on these demons would consist of the majority of the seven deadly sins, Lucifer and the Leviathan would later be exiled to hell, after Lucifer rebelled against hell, with the Leviathan aiding him, god left the seven of them alone, he believed that they would figure something out on their own, and they all fought to see who would reign over hell, Lucifer ended up being the winner by a small margin, but what should be mentioned is that Mammon and Satan, the sin of greed and wrath, did not participate in this bout, they thought it would be a waste of time, but if the two of them did join that fight, the winner might not have been Lucifer, It may have been one of the two who did not participate for the thrown of hell, but we will never know for sure, but regarding all that, the demon who is standing infront of this human mage, is more far powerful than he realized. Mammon had walked towards Samuel, his left hand in his pocket, his right holding on to his, what appeared to be a briefcase, while he was walking towards him, Samuel had recited an incantation, when he had finished a barrier appeared at the entrance to the alley, leaving no way to escape, Samuel had done this for two reasons, one was to hide themselves from normal humans, on the other side of the barrier is an illusion, showing no one standing in that alley, when regular humans learn that a mage and a demon clashing in a small alley, there tends to be a bit of a panic, the second reason was to shorten the moves Mammon could make, he could not retreat or try to hold a human as a hostage, of course Samuel didn’t know that Mammon wouldn't have done either of them, he wouldn’t want to waste time like that, he decided to let it be and just let him continue with the whole good samaritan thing, letting him think he was helping people. “Mammon, I told you I specialize with summoning golems, which I do, but what I did not tell you that these are the golems of the ancients, a elemental golem, but I took that old magic and added something else to it, the fusion of elements.” Mammon had ceased his advancement, so he decided to jump back a couple steps, with an excited, yet slightly nervous grin on his face. “I summon a golem made of water and lighting, with the earth as its base.” He gripped his wrist with his left hand, he raised it to the sky, then slammed it onto the ground, which formed a magic circle, and what came from it was a golem, made of rocks, infused with the power of water and lighting, a good way to subdue someone, a good shock could knock one out, so long as they aren’t human, if they weren’t they would surely die, but despite being a golem with more than one element, the size of it completely towered over a small building, to the point that it could hardly fit in the alley. “Your golem seems a bit cramped, since I’m nice I’ll help it out.” Mammon placed his hand on the ground, the space between the two buildings that made up the alley had expanded, he had shifted the earth under the buildings to expand the space of the alley. Samuel seemed surprised, it was the first time he’d seen the earth move buildings, so who could blame him? But he did not let that make him drop his guard, he knew who he was fighting, he knows that he could be killed, he commanded the golem to attack Mammon, the golem swung its arms around, splashing water in every direction, Mammon, however, stomped his foot on the ground, causing a pillar of earth to shield him from being splashed. Samuel had forced the golem to turn it up a notch, to where the golem was shooting a condensed ray of water at him, causing the pillar t quickly erode and collapse, while the water beam had managed to hit him, he seemed fine, his clothes were soaked, which appeared to make him lose his temper, he swung his arm over in front of his body, and like magic, his clothes were dried, after he fixed his outfit, the golem had launched an assault of lighting magic in his direction, even though he himself was not drenched in water, the ground was, and with water being a good conductor for electricity, shocked Mammon to a extreme extent, if it wasn’t a demon standing in the middle of that, any other being would have been vaporized. Samuel had canceled his spell, in which made the golem fall apart, leaving nothing but rocks soaked in water, with electrical sparks coming from it, Samuel who seemed tired from using a large quantity of magic, managed to limp himself over to Mammon, who was lying on the ground, completely motionless, Samuel had assumed that he was unconscious, only to discover after he knelt to the ground to confirm it, that Mammon was not unconscious, he was faking it to lure him closer and make drop his guard, and as Samuel tried to back away, Mammon plunged his hand into his stomach, and piercing it clean through, he pulled his arm out which was soaked in blood, when he then cleaned it the same way he dried his clothes after the golem had drenched him. As Samuel was about to collapse to the ground, left to bleed out, and die, Mammon had grabbed him by shoulders, setting him against the wall, where he then sat next to him, hoping he could chat with him slightly longer, before he will ask him who his so-called employer is, Samuel does not have long left in this world, as one would expect after a hole was left in there stomach, for humans at least, Mammon had placed a magic circle on his fatal wound, causing it to slow the bleeding, to keep him around slightly longer, he didn’t want him to die mid-conversation, that would just be rude. “H-how did y-you resist the electrical shock? I didn’t hold back against you, I put just about everything into that.” While gasping for air, he wanted to know what made him fail, what led to him with a hole in his gut, while talking to a demon. “I am one of the seven deadly sins, unlike normal demons, I can’t just possess someone so easily, there are two conditions if one of the sins wants to possess someone, one, they must permit them to possess, like how angels do it, and the second is that they have to be part human, a sin cannot possess someone if they are human, just part human at least.” “So? What is the guy you are possessing?” He asked out of pure curiosity. “His name was Victor, and he is a Homunculus, a human that has been altered with alchemy, and since his whole body has been altered with a fusion of science and magic, this body is magic proof, sure you can place a spell on this body, but you can't harm it with magic.” After he finished explaining himself, he reached into a pocket inside of his coat, he pulled out a box of matches and pulled out what appeared to be a joint. It's better than cigarettes, but it’s a bad habit nonetheless. When Samuel saw him smoking it he chuckled. “I wouldn’t have pegged you for a smoker, marijuana no less.” “Are you kidding me? This is by far my favorite of humanity's creations, the only thing I hate about this thing is that I didn’t discover it, I would have killed to take credit for this, but as soon as I smoked this I was head over heels for it.” Samuel and Mammon laughed, almost as if they were long time friends, but Mammon knew the spell he placed on him wouldn't last any longer, so he decided to stop beating around the bush and start being serious. “You said that you would escort me to your employer, but I don’t suppose you know who and where this employer is?” Samuel sighed. “I didn’t get a name, but I did get a location I was supposed to leave you at, and in return he would give me a journal, the journal of Solomon, who was an archmage, and I was sure that I might be able to become one with it, but I’ll never know now.” Mammon had looked at him perplexed, he then thought to himself and then realized who was the mysterious employer. He let go of his briefcase he was holding with his right hand, and rubbed the ring on his middle finger on his left hand, and suddenly a black portal appeared, he reached into it and pulled out a book, the portal closed after his hand was out and he tossed the book over to Samuel. “That is the journal of Solomon, I bet your employer would have just gave you a knock-off, and regrettably it doesn’t tell you how to become an archmage, it’s just filled with him complaining about his responsibilities, don’t get me wrong, he was an archmage, but he was also a manchild, I too thought it would contain some juicy information, but nothing.”Samuel flipped through the pages in the journal, and Mammon was right, nothing but useless garbage, he placed the journal on the ground and looked to Mammon. “Thanks for being honest.” After his final words, thanking the one who killed him, he drew his final breath, while facing the sky, which he had hoped to reach with his own strength, but all things must come to an end. Mammon stood up, turning around to face Samuel once more, he had almost regretted killing him, but what's done is done, he flicked the joint out of his hands and faced the shadows of the alley. “I’m curious to know how you knew where I was, I thought I was being careful, wouldn't you agree, Mephistopheles? From the shadows of the alley, a man emerged from the dark, a man who appeared to be somewhere in his mid 60’s, but his look was more than just intimidating, mid-length gray hair, wore formal attire, similar to the outfit Samuel wore. His facial expression and the glare from his eyes said that you do not want to engage with him. “I would, if you hadn’t killed him, if you didn’t I wouldn't have found you, sin of greed, Mammon.” “Well it’s his own fault, wait a moment, now that I think about it, why was a human mage, out of all the creatures on earth, following me?’’ “He was cheaper, and more ignorant than the other mages I spoke to, so I placed a tracking spell on him, in case he died, and it appears he did, as well as stall for time.’’ Mammon had been annoyed about what he said about Samul, but he stopped caring as his suspicions grew of Mephistopheles, he wanted to know why this dangerous demon had a mage follow him, and try to kidnap him. “Stall, for what, exactly?” The tension between the two of them was thicker than steel, so tense that no one would dare step between them. “Why her, of course.” Mammon had felt a sting on his neck, he knelt to the ground, he pulled what was jabbed into his neck out, two vials with red stains in them, it appeared to be blood, but it had such a draining effect on him. He turned around so that he may see who just stabbed him in the neck, a woman with long scarlet red hair, wearing plain clothes, such as a hoodie with jeans and an old pair of sneakers on. “My, oh my, didn’t know you have such a bland taste of fashion, my little lustful Asmodeus, by the way, the hell is this stuff? It’s giving me a headache.” “Bland? I’ll have you know I'm quite comfortable, maybe you should follow my lead and try to fit in, I would be able to tell it’s you just by your outfit, also that stuff I pumped into you, is the blood of a priest, turns out it’s very harmful to demons, the blood of a priest won't kill you, but it can at least knock out a demon on your level .” First of all, I’m comfortable and stylish as well, hell, second of all, what do you want? I highly doubt the two of you, out of all the demons in hell, would team up just because you missed me, s-something important g-going down? As he was trying to act calm and keep his composure in check, the blood finally hit him, and his vision became blurry, the only thing he could do was listen to Asmodeus. “Yes, something is going down, and we’re gonna need the help from the rest of the sins.”

Please add a reply to this post before proceeding with a transaction. Also please use a direct message to contact me--I don't check instant chat. Preference for people who want to buy multiple items at once, in particular with the inks and the packs of paper. Shipping cost not included, CONUS preferred.
Pens capped 1 , Pens capped 2
Pens uncapped
I got a set of these Opus 88 Fantasia pens a while ago and intended to swap in some custom nibs, such as Franklin Christoph #5 SIG, but then I got a bunch more pens, and these are sitting unused. Inked them up once to see how they write, as I had not had Japanese style eyedroppers before. Very pretty, but I don't like keeping pens without use. I'm keeping the black color model and selling these 3. Standard JoWo #5 nib units screw out easily and can be replaced with an array of other options. Cleaning these pens is a breeze. Discontinued model.

OPUS 88 Fantasia - Red F [A2]

I've misplaced the original box with the correct red pen label, but will include one from a black color model instead (paper label on the side shows a black color pen).
$100

OPUS 88 Fantasia - Blue F [A2]

Comes with original box and parts.
$100
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Pelikan M600 Red Tortoiseshell - Fine [A2]

I wanted to love this pen, but unfortunately it's too warm red/orange leaning for me, and I prefer cold reds in general. Only inked a couple of times, otherwise it's been sitting in a pen storage box on my desk. Smooth piston movement, looks mint, no issues. Comes with original gift box.
$375
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SOLD - Pilot Capless Decimo - Light Purple - M [B]

Great workhorse of a pen, perfectly operational. I'm downsizing a bit, because I have a bunch of LE Decimos now. The lavender color lacquer is in excellent condition. Very fine microscratches on the chromed parts. Nib unit included is 18K rhodium-plated Medium -- smooth and juicy. Con-40 converter also included. Will come with a Pilot box.
SOLD ~~$100~~
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Original production 52g Tomoe River loose leaf paper lot:

https://i.imgur.com/uQjF7vc.jpg, https://i.imgur.com/qu1UtBK.jpg
- 4 sets of Cream color A5, 100 sheets each, $15 per pack
-1 set of Cream color B5, 98 sheets (I think I took out 1-2 sheets when I first got this pack, for an ink testing binder.) $17
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Inks:

https://i.imgur.com/CIH99WZ.jpg , https://i.imgur.com/UeLrOCx.jpg
Colorverse "Vortex Motion" 65ml + 15ml, 99%. **With Optional Shimmer!**New formula without strong green sheen. Dark purple-gray-leaning brown. With original box. \I can add your choice of Wearingeul Shimmer Potion to the 15ml bottle -- I've got most of the shimmer colors available** $25
Colorverse "Dust Storm + Valles Marineris" set 65ml + 15ml, 99%. $27
Colorverse Project Constellations "Alpha Scorpii Glistening", 65ml. 99%. With original box. Warm peachy pink with light blue shimmer. $20
Colorverse Project Kingdom "Kuyjang-Gak" 30ml, 99%. Muted terracotta-red. With original box. $14
Colorverse "Methuselah Tree" 65ml (50% left), "Methuselah Grove" 15ml (few ml left, "Golden Leaves" 15ml (couple ml left) -- used for ink sample decants. $18 for the three.
Wearingeul "White Rabbit" 30ml, 99%. Light pink-beige. $15.50
Birmingham Pen Company "Barley", 65ml, 99%. Comes with original box. $13.50
SOLD ~~Colorverse Project Kingdom "Nalasmalssami"~~ ~~30ml, 99%. Green-teal-black with black-red sheen. With original box.~~ ~~$14~~
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Mechanical Pencils - $55 for all 3 together:

https://i.imgur.com/1sDmShy.jpg
1) A.G. Spalding Bros by Raymay Fujii, Japan - 0.5mm pink [A1]
- almost the same shape as a Kaweco Special. Anodized aluminum in pink color with matte clear-anodized silver aluminum accents.
- sliding, retractable lead pipe for carrying protection (press the knock, push in the lead and the lead sleeve. Press the knock and the sleeve will pop back out ).
- This was my backup pencil, as I liked my first one very much, and it's a discontinued model. But I have too many pencils now to worry about backups. Here's a photo album I made of my first pencil when I got it: https://imgur.com/a/KG6nN2g
2) Autopoint with a custom laser-engraved green barrel and matching tip, 1.1mm and 0.7mm [A1]
- twist extension; made in USA
- included is a 0.7mm tip!
3) Zebra Delguard 0.5mm [A1] in turquoise
Also including Japanese erasers and 0.5mm lead refill.
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SOLD - Rubber Stamps by SniggleSloth - All A1, unused, in original packaging:

https://i.imgur.com/1A6OUWI.jpg
I can't use stamps in my journals, because the ink dyes I've tried so far penetrate to the other side and also affect water brush drawing over affected areas. I bought a bunch of these mounted rubber stamps, but sadly can't use them now. Very well made, easy to use. I am keeping the ones I've already used and selling the unused remainder:
- 3/4" Dutch Bunny Loaf circular stamp
- 1.75" Samurai Cat Under Sakura Cherry Blossom square stamp
- 1.25" Phoebe Bird on a Branch square stamp
- 1.25" Dream Catcher with Moon and Stars square stamp
- 1.25" Squirrel with Oak Leaves square stamp
SOLD ~~$36 for the set.~~ ~~I can split the set, but only if you buy a stamp(s) with a few other things, because I just don't have enough small boxes to ship everything separately; plus it's not cost effective.~~

Obituaries journal star

SaucierThanSnoke