Editor's Note: This is a content warning for those sensitive to certain topics; self-harm, child loss, graphic descriptions of violence.            Sylvia bent over the lifeless bodies of the newborn infants she had just spent six hellish hours delivering. Screams of anguish poured from her diaphragm, blood soaked her nightgown from the waist down. Her husband William knelt beside her, stroking her shoulder in a futile attempt at comfort. The midwife, an elderly Inuit woman, knelt on her otherside. “Please miss,  you must lay down. Your body has suffered incredible stress, the birth was not a good one.” “My babies, my babies, this can’t be!” Sylvia shrieked, deaf to the woman’s words. “Shh, shh,” William was muttering as he rubbed her shoulders. “Maybe it won’t be, I have already sent for the spirit leader of my tribe. He should arrive any moment.” “Don’t be a fool! How dare you give my wife this false hope! You can clearly see the babies are dead, and besides, no one cou

  Uncle, it is happening again. The rain has come. I have spent thousands of nights praying that the world would realize something when they pulled your small body from the river. How delicate life is. How precious. How it floats and swells and then vanishes in even the gentlest currents. I prayed you would be more than a forgotten proverb. In a story about big men in faraway places. Their empty fists and uncalloused fingertips meeting tabletops unscathed. And the rain falling faithfully in turn. They say they are here to protect us. That we are safe behind a blinding cloud of rubble and the dust of month-old bones. But I always wonder why they did not protect you; my most precious kin. I wonder what it is that must be offered to deserve their protection. Because your fluttering pulse and brand new eyes for an old and broken world were not enough. A child’s body and a child’s heart is not enough. They didn’t protect you when the squall of fire and metal touched down on the land tha

It’s the sense of being an outsider, I think. An odd, directionless haunting that tells me I do not belong. There’s a new awareness of intersectionality in my life lately, with more than too many big, complicated feelings trailing off of it. The friction on the seam where two facets of identity knit together. And in that awareness I’ve grown to understand the vague, faceless sense that has followed me through life: That I am an interloper. Spending time in male spaces I’ve always felt vaguely repulsed: the machismo: the casual objectification of women: boasting about and embracing their emotional trauma — hiding in habits and socialization that I fought for years to unlearn and outgrow. “My parents beat me and I turned out fine.” Men talk about work. Men talk about hobbies and productivity and video games and sports and drinking and women and casual violence and anything to distract from the black, sucking emptiness where their capacity to feel was ripped out of them when they were boy

 Hey everyone! Spring is nearly upon, and may soon grant us reprieve for our seasonal cabin fever. I had a few things I wanted to go over, and some programing notes! First off, for the next three weeks, I will be showcasing pieces from some other very talented writers I am proud to call my friends! Keep an eye out in the coming Saturdays. A short schedule, which will also be up on the Facebook. • Intersection, by Josh Luffred, 3/16/2024 (Next Saturday!) • Rain, Again, by Charlena Kea, 3/23/2024 • Gemini, by Brian Rydquist, 3/30/2024 Please check back in to see their pieces! Sharing my small platform with others has been something I have wanted for some time, and I am pleased to finally do so. After this month, we have the second birthday of Roll for Writing! I am beyond excited and pleased to share some stuff I have been working on for months now. After April, though, I am taking the month of May off, so there will not be any uploads until June. After two years, I think it is high-time

      The smallest island in the Duchy, Ios was long ago promised to the Triton by Poleon himself as part of the peace struck long ago.     Today, a Triton serves as Baron of Ios, but as part of a long tradition, does not taking a voting role upon the Despot Council. Instead, they serve as a liaison between the Naxians and the Triton Kings beneath the waves.     Ios, itself is off-limits to any visitors, is vigorously patrolled and guarded by Triton warriors who only ever warn once before attacking any that attempt to land. No non-Triton knows why they protect Ios so fervently, but stories say that it is integral to the eldritch rites of the Triton priests. As far as what can be gleaned from ships passing perhaps too closely, Ios is covered by the same kind of jungles that can be found across the islands, and a small mountain protruding from the center.

      The smallest of the Baronies, the Donusians are actually a set of smaller islands in the extreme southeast of the Duchy, farthest from Naxos. Much of these islands are dominated by forests consisting of perhaps the greatest strategic material in all of Naxos; Naxian Oak. This wood is twice as sturdy as any other lumber, and does not rot in seawater once treated in a certain way, which is a closely guarded state secret. For this, by ancient Royal decree and modern Ducal orders, these trees may only be used to make Naxian warships for the Navy.     The only official permanent settlement, Makria, is dominated by vast lumber yards, smaller shipyards and drydocks, and the equipment needed to load large amounts of lumber onto ships headed to Avgi or Kythnos. The population in Makria is unique, in that it is one of two settlements in the Duchy that satyr make a majority of the population-- the other being Oneiro, a baronet on the Isle of Naxos. This has long led to suspicion of the Baro

      The second largest island in the Duchy, Ieraklea is perhaps the most specialized of any territory found across the islands in that a majority of the land is used for farming, as it has the only largescale portions of arable land found anywhere in the Duchy. Outside of Dino, the capitol, rice paddies and fields of barley stretch as far as the eye sees.     Agriculture is the dominant industry in Ieraklea, and a majority of harvests are sent directly to Poleons' City. There is a history of maltreatment on the island; with everything dedicated to farming, finding suitable workers has always been an issue. So, the former Despots, now Barons, have relied on slave labor in the forms of prisoners or indentured minorities to meet demands.     Farther away from Dino, similar to Mykonos, enormous fields roll on; some portions of the island are left intentionally un-farmed, as to provide an area of land to rotate to as to not completely exhaust the soil. Further southwest, the plains ar

      Once the site of the first human habitation in the islands, Keros was blasted into a craggy wasteland at the start of the Tauromachy. Today, the only people who live here all year is the garrison and staff of Alasiofos, the training fortress and headquarters of the Naxian Marines & Navy.     Alasiofos' main citadel lies atop the seaward cliffs, fortified with magic to prevent collapse. The citadel itself is divided between the two forces, and both have been tailored to the needs of each. The complex itself is labyrinthian in size and complexity of navigation.     Beyond the walls, Keros supports next to nothing that would be called life. Indeed, the terrain is so unforgiving that as part of final testing, Naxian marines must survive a fortnight as a unit out in the wastes, living being the only standard of success.     The "Baron" of Keros is the title given to who ever is assigned as the master of Alasiofos, and does not have voting powers on the Despot Council

      The ancestral homelands of the Leoi, the island of Mykonos is a dramatic landscape of expansive rolling grasslands, lush jungle, and sharp grey peaks overlooking the sea.     The only permanent settlement, O Protos, lies on the north shore, where the plains meet the sea. This "city" exists as a complex to house the Baron of Mykonos, and to host the visiting bands when they visit, or at the annual meeting when the various leaina decide matters for all Leoi.     The plains of Mykonos, ironically, are some of the most fertile farmland anywhere in the Duchy, which for strict carnivores such as the Leoi who subsist off of hunting, fishing, and very limited herding, does little good. As such, these rich grasslands remain largely undisturbed.      To the western portions of the island is a track of jungle; unlike other islands, these trees hold religious significance to the Leoi, as only leaina may enter as part of their coming-of-age rituals, or during certain lunar events. 

      South of Naxos lies the Island of Thera; a ring of land that surrounds a large deep-water lagoon. Like Kythnos, the island is divided into grassy hills and jungle. Unlike Kythnos, both sections are thoroughly populated by Naxians.      The northern parts are entirely consumed by the town of Ormos, but that does not mean it is a hive of activity. Ormos is a well-spread out town, with entire fields between single houses in some areas. Closer to the lagoon shore, it becomes tighter, but still nowhere near as hectic and crowded as other Naxian cities.     The southern jungle is also well settled, with well-worn foot paths connecting various homes and villas.     The major place of interest in Thera is the lagoon, which is the nearest deep-water port to Naxos, and is often the first or second stop for foreign traders, who often seek to unload and sell whatever did not sell in Poleons' City. Other than economics, the deep lagoon is also of interest to the Triton, who can sometimes

      The island immediately to the east of Naxos, Kythnos is separated by a narrow, shallow channel that can sometimes be entirely exposed during extreme tidal events.  The island itself is divided into two distinct regions; the rolling grassland of the north, and the dense jungle of the lower.     Most of the population, like in its counterpart of Poleons' own city, reside in the major city of Avgi, on its northernmost shore. Most of the people here are directly tied to the vast shipyards there, which is where a large portion of Naxian vessels are built, as well as a major port for the Naxian Navy.      Outside of Avgi, the grasslands are unsettled, with the exception of a small number of goat-herding families that claim historical rights to roam the plains in their nomadic life. Like most of the Duchy, the soil here is largely unsuitable for farming.     To the south, the jungle claims much of the land. Unlike Naxos, these forests are avoided, as they have a strong connection to

      Separate from its namesake, the Isle of Naxos is the largest across the archipelago that makes up the Duchy, with a majority of non-urban Naxians living upon it.      The northern section of Naxos is dry and craggy, baked under the hot dry air that flows south. Few towns can be found here, with all of them on the coast. What is prominent here are the legendary  vineyards that grow the grapes for fine and potent Naxian Wine.     The southern portion of Naxos is dominated by dense jungles, covering the land from the Talos Mountains to the gentle sandy shores. Lumber is a key industry here, but you won't find the famous Naxian Oak, which only grows in The Donusians, but you will find a variety of robust hardwood used in construction across the islands. There are a fair number of fishing villages, which like in the north part of the island, are depended upon for providing the basis of Naxian diet.     Lastly, in the center of the island forming the spine running from east to west

 Authors Note: Welcome to part one of the Naxian Geography module! We'll be doing this as a sort of weekly primer, with each entry covering a specific island/area.     Before the Tauromachy, the island of Aegos was the center of Minotaur civilization, and was heavily cultivated. It was said that the whole island was a patchwork of beautiful gardens, filling in spaces between pre-historic temples and shrines with lush verdant life. After the war, however, the plant life had became darkened and warped; alien flora had replaced the native plant life. When Poleon took Aegos, he ordered the whole of the island salted and burned.     Even over a thousand years later, the island that modern Naxos sits upon has not recovered. The soil is dry, sandy, and often flies away when a strong breeze blows. Absolutely nothing will grow naturally on the island. Any garden in the city will have to rely on imported soil, intense management, and absolutely avoiding contact with the local soil.     That

 Hello everyone, Happy New Year! Here's hoping that 2024 is gentle upon us all, and the relevant gods have mercy upon our souls. Some programming notes I wanted to share with you all; starting next Saturday, the next module on Naxos will begin dropping-- this time covering the geography of the islands! I'm hoping to have a map done that will help picture this country that we are becoming so familiar with! That'll be done, as soon as I find the will to live find the time to finish making the thing. Another thing I wanted to announce is that I am going to start a non-fiction project in earnest! Starting at some point this month, and dropping monthly until the end of the year; The Many Saints of Portland! This examination series will focus on important persons who either were founders of my hometown, or those who left an indelible mark upon it. Look for that over the next few weeks! For those worried about short story content; one of the reasons I am working on the above two

      The two Anlari soldiers ran through the dark brush, too scared to look back. Guided only by what scattered moonlight made its fraught journey through the canopy. One acted as support for the other, who bled blackened ooze from a fetid wound, a gaping hole in his mail and tabard.     Only what seemed like moments before, their entire squad of comrades were patrolling for soldiers from the ever-approaching Dunbar host, which their liege had been fighting. Suddenly, in a blur of frightening speed, a tower of steel, a warrior in fearsome steel armor, and clad in a red and green surcoat. The had immediately shouted at the figure to identify themselves, when a curious thing happened. A small blue light came from beneath the great helm of the Red & Green Warrior, and then a much brighter blue light came from the bush just off to their side. Spectral hounds then leapt into the squad, their spears and swords striking more air than mark. The jaws of the hounds savaged those they found.