Eabha trudged barefoot through the sodden moonlit forest of early Winter, with soot and ash in her dark hair, and a spike of iron hanging on from her waist. Inquisitor Molan of The Black Saint had come to her home after the ill-fated duel with the closet thing she ever had to a brother, Cillian. And Molan had come with torches, and force. The last memory Eabha would ever have of her home was its conflagration.      It had all started when famine came at the hands of rot that took the grain. The village blamed Draoi Righnach, Eabha’s mentor, and whose line had been there in the Ban Forest for longer than it knew that name. So the Tiarna, the lord, called for an Inquisitor of Saint Macsen. Righnach had then soon disappeared searching for the culprit she knew caused the rot and harvest failure.      The issue was, however, that Righnach had vanished the same day Inquisitor Molan had come to The Ban. When Cillian had realized this, he ...

    So, I was recently taken out of commission by the flu, and had a bunch of free time.  What better time to replay some good ole’ New Vegas?  I have a pretty set way that I play this game at this point, having done so since it launched in October of 2010; set my tag skills to Barter, Sneak, and Explosives to get all the dialogue options to do “Ghost Town Gunfight”, ransack Goodsprings for all it’s worth, and then set out into the wild orange yonder to follow Benny’s trail until eventually arriving in The Strip, where I will simply go guns-a-blazin’ upon the poor saps who run The Tops.  From there, I usually then dink around the New Vegas area proper doing random side-quests until I feel sufficiently leveled to begin the DLCs, starting with Honest Hearts, which I think is grossly underappreciated as a side western story.  But this isn’t about that DLC, nor even the appropriately-praised brilliance of Old World Blues.  No, this is about Dead Money, and...

 “Hello caller, you’re on the air…”   "It was a weird time the other night, around Tuesday? I was taking a walk out near Mauricio and 9th, and it was real quiet. Sure, there were the usual tweakers and homeless, but it felt… I don’t know, just really quiet. In a way that it doesn’t really get in the middle of a big city." "I was out walking just because, you know, there’s a lot going on in the world right now and I think staying inside and doom-spiraling isn’t really helping. So, even though Port Astor is shit, I decided to go out. When I moved here from The Bay Area, I was told about ‘a sense of mystery’, and that this was a different hub to grow in—and cheaper than San Francisco to a frankly gross degree. And, sure, I had heard it had problems, but what major city doesn’t? I’m sure we are all aware of apps that track sighting of homeless people pooping back home, and Fox hammering home how it’s a gay den of sin. My point—I thought I was prepared." "Anyway, I ...

 Hey Everybody, What a fucking year, amirite? If you are anything like me, it's been a lot. Between ongoing political shit here at home, local issues, and all of the other non-sense I am involved with, I feel like I am being hung-drawn-and-quartered for my time and energy. So, with that, it's Roll for Writings' 4th birthday! Horseshit aside, I have some cool stuff lined up for this month, which I hope is a good make-up for the lack of guest writers this year-- I honestly did not have the wherewithal to wrangle any this year for reasons kinda covered in the first paragraph. Like in previous years, there will be something new every Saturday this April, and the nothin' for May as that is my birthday month, and I refuse to do any work that I don't have to during that time. Anyway, keep an eye out for the new stuff this month! Take care, and be good to one another out there. Thank You & Very Respectfully, Zachariah O

      To the west lay the green lands that hug the Seawall Mountains. After the Naxians withdrew, those living here quickly established feudal states and petty kingdoms. Unlike in Thrace, there was never any successful bid for political homogeneity.      These "small kingdoms" view Naxos as a valuable trading partner and most have strong formal ties and relations to the Duchy. Many which rely on sea trade have even allowed permanent garrisons of Naxian Marines to protect shipping.     Those who do not welcome Naxos, however, engage in subtle warfare via assassinations, sabotage, and proxies being weapons of choice. In the Northeast, the Bohun have expressed strong anti-Naxian sentiment in western matters, and have a sizable military of their heavily-armored knights to act on such wills.

      The northern lands of Thrace once made up a sizable portion of The Old Empire, Thrace has long been considered an integral part of the territory of Naxos.     After The Collapse, and subsequent Naxian withdrawal, the Thracians were left to their fate, and no one was left to keep Azraqi influence at bay. Many of the surviving major cities became sovereign city-states, and created a loose federation simply called The Thracian Republics.     After The Reclamation, Naxos returned in force to reclaim what it said was "ancestral territory". The Navy and Marines besieged the Southern Cities, taking some and turning much else to ruin.     Today, Thrace is a land divided by pro-Naxians in held territory, independent partisans, and the Azraqi-aligned states to the north, supported by the Eastern Princes as a buffer state between itself and their ancestral foes.

      Along with the Leoi, the Triton are traditional allies of the Naxians, going all the way back to the days of Poleon. There was a war when the two peoples initially made contact, but have since been bonded by blood when the Naxian founder took a Triton bride.     The Triton live in the seas north and east of the main islands, and claim the isolated isle of Ioh as their by ancient treaty, being purportedly the site of a religious complex. The Triton largely keep to their own affairs, but occasionally assist in pirate hunting or defense in trying times. The largest interaction is every two hundred years, when the Triton Sovereign comes ashore to Naxos to meet the Heir of Poleon, and reaffirm ties of cooperation and alliance.     To the common Naxian, most only know the rare Triton merchant that comes to trade bizarre and exotic treasures from the deep, or strange visitors who come ashore in remote places, leaving only children born with strange powe...

      Along with the Satyr, the Centaur are one of the native peoples of the islands. They arrived from the Fey with the Satyr, and often have a vaguely paternal relation to them, much to the irritation of the Satyr.     The Centaur joined the Tauromachy initially on the side of the Minotaur, but later allied with the Naxians when their former allies fell to dark gods. When the war ended, however, they were not given any rewards and only received a "pardon". In outrage, the Centaur refused and retreated into the jungles.     Today, Centaurs live in fugitive herds, and serve as the majority of Ta Ktini leadership; leading raids against those who violate natural lands and sacred ground. They are also frequent target Satyr for recruitment. Many Naxians fear Centaurs as rebels and bandits.     That said, some Centaur believe in avoiding conflict, and attempt to find the harmony they've lost. While no less fugitive than their militant kin in the e...

      The Satyr are one of the four indigenous peoples of the archipelago, along with the Leoi, Centaur, and the Minotaur. Their ancestors came from the Fey, and still carry on many of their pagan customs.     During the Tauromachy, they joined the side of the Minotaur to fight their ancient Leonin foes, but switched sides when the Minotaur fell to dark gods. The Naxians never forgot they were once enemies, however.     After the war, the Satyr were forgiven by Poleon, but were not rewarded with land or titles. Some attempted to mesh with the Naxians since they were there to stay, while many others retreated to remote places to try and live in separate peace.      Urban Satyrs tend to live in confined "neighborhoods" and often have unique designs to accommodate their history and physiology; platforms most Naxians couldn't reach, lots of plant growth. These Satyr often deal with discriminations and harassments, particularly from members o...

       When the Tauromachy was won, the Leoi were rewarded with their own island and home rule. Even after the Collapse the Leoi were respected with their own autonomy. When Basileus was crowned Duke, he honored them once again as their own Barony and a seat on the Despot Council. Today they continue their tradition of self-rule within the Duchy.     The Leoi largely live amongst themselves on the island of Mykonos, with most living as part of semi-nomadic bands roaming their respective territories. Many rely on herding, fishing, and hunting, having little interest or need of farming. Each band is led by a leaina , and matters that involve the whole island are decided in annual meetings of all the bands. The Baron of the Leoi is actually elected by the leaina, who choose one for life. The Baron's role is largely to convey the wishes of the leaina.     Outside of Mykonos, their warriors are seen roaming the islands hunting dangerous beasts as part ...

 Hey Everybody, I hope that the holiday season has been kind to folks! I've been trying to get through the general malaise that has been kicking my ass the last several months, and having good times with my people in the sadly interesting times we all live in. Looking forward, there's a good chance we will wrap up the last content for Naxos this year! Kind of wild it has lasted as long as it has, and I look forward to showing off the next world-building project, whenever that's ready to display. That said, not a lot of exciting stuff that I currently want to foreshadow, but I have been doing a lot of great work with Caleb over on SCPod! Give that show a listen on YouTube, RSS, or a few other podcast platforms! The most recent episode at time of posting is our holiday special for 2025. In the meantime, take care out there! Thank You & Very Respectfully, Zachariah O

 Hey Everybody. Happy Skyrim Anniversary Day! There's nothing major goin' on here right now. After every October and April, I like to take a little time off from worrying about updating content here. Both months are sort of my busy times with making sure I have new stuff to throw up on here, and usually involve a lot of work in the time leading up. I think I actually started working on the October series... in March? You see what I mean. In the mean time, please feel free to plumb the depths of older content! There's plenty to see. I'll share new stuff when I am ready to, probably closer to 2026 than not. You'll figure it out. In the meantime, take care out there! Thank You & Very Respectfully, Zachariah O

This is the third part and finale of this year's October series! Please go read part two if you have not already!       The golden light of morning shone through to paned window, and in front of you a fine breakfast. Your wife, a reporter for a local newspaper. You look upon your love, and she begins to speak, but her words are a mumble, almost underwater. You look into her eyes, the green eyes you loved so much, searching for her light, but... nothing. Then, like knives through a curtain, words.     " How long did you wait? "     " How long did you really feel that way about me? "     " How long did you pretend to miss me? "     " How long did you pretend to love me? "     You reel, your wife just sits there, beaming the same brilliant smile that she always had, looking up at you, eyes that devoured the light.     It comes back to you now. She disappeared last year, you remember the biting, haunting sorrow for h...

This is part two of the annual October series. Read part one if you haven't already! GHOST SHIP! By Valerie Kimpton     A long-missing vessel, THE EASTERN GLOAM , has resurfaced in Port Astor Harbor. While the city is under quarantine, few but the Coast Guard were able to try and dissuade this revenant from landing here in our plague-stricken city. Our official source, Lt. Boyle, said no one was left aboard after the boarding team explored the derelict from bow to stern. Out of abundant caution, Lt. Boyle said that the ship was to be towed out of the harbor, and eventually scuttled.     When we asked residents near the Astor Docks, however, we learned that there might be more to this story. One resident, under a condition of anonymity and speaking only through a closed window said that she spied a lone soul leaping from the drifting ship, then swimming to shore. Once upon land, our source continued, he simply vanished. Did our "valiant" serviceman lie to us when he c...