We Have Sea Fairies, Now All We Need Are Sky Fairies

"Dietitian salary louisiana"

reblog this and put in the tags what comes up when you type “die”

one of the best academic paper titles

And don't forget little black cats that may just be sentient

girls love runes and sigils and rituals and knives and skulls and blood

This is so true it hurts

lore mode

I only have 3 words for this: adorable, baby, bean

say hi to percy !

I admire the dedication to keep track of 8 different royal lineages for a single city.

I really hope Akard isn't destroyed by his own paranoia.

OC Intro: Akard

Note: (Left) Akard as the Pabaket, (Right) King Akard

As promised, the last poll was a tie between Dati and Akard, I already did the intro for Dati, so now it's Akard's turn! As with other characters I'm going to try to avoid most spoilers, I don't think its too big of a surpirse to say that Hutbari is killed since that's what the entire story revolves around, so the events described in this intro will end there.

The new poll will be up soon!

Name: Akard (Written below in Kishite and its Apunian equivalent)

As a noble Karush is named in the traditional style of a Kishite noble (Click here to see more). He is named for his ancestor, King Akard "The Sailor". Akard was born into the line of Asher (Asherdul), however upon taking the throne of Labisa, he declares the start of a new line, The Line of Akard, Akarddul. He marks the 53rd monarch of Labisa and the beginning of the 8th royal line.

See the timeline of the rulers of Labisa below the cut!

Family

Father: The Deposed King Kurush (Dead)

Mother: Unnamed Apunian Servant Girl (Sanapi) (Alive)

Brother: Prince Hiru (Dead)

Uncle: King Hutbari (Dead)

Aunt/Ex-Stepmother: Unma (Dead)

Aunt: Tamyras (Dead)

Aunt: Saaket (Dead)

Aunt: Ladara (Dead)

Aunt: Duccarin (Dead)

Aunt: Zibatha (Dead)

Cousin: Bazus (Dead)

Cousin: Kota (Alive, Married in Apuna)

Cousin: Hiru (Dead)

Cousin: Unma (Alive, Married in Ikopesh)

Cousin: Ladaru (Dead)

Cousin: Asher (Dead)

Cousin: Sema (Alive, Married in Shabala)

Cousin: Fifina (Alive, Married in Apuna)

Cousin: Uridush (Dead)

Cousin: Ninma (Alive)

Homeland/Place of Origin

Born in the City of Nashawey, Apuna

Ethncity

Eastern Kishite (Labisian) and Apunian

History

Akard was born 27 years before the events of the story. His father, Kurush, was unseated from his throne through the machinations of his brother, Hutbari. Though Kurush was the elder brother, Hutbari's strength and charisma allowed him to forge strong alliances within the Labisan court, including with Kurush's own wife, Unma. These alliances enabled Hutbari to successfully seize the city, with his followers killing or capturing any nobles loyal to the old king.

When Hutbari, accompanied by the lords Farut and Haman and their soldiers, entered the royal chambers, they found Kurush’s son, Hiru, instead of Kurush. Despite being only eight years old and barely able to lift the ancient sword he held, Hiru fought with the bravery of a lion, reportedly even cutting down one soldier before his sword was taken from him. Though Unma begged for her son's life, Hutbari killed him. Hiru’s sacrifice was a distraction, allowing Kurush to be secretly carried away from the city. The shame of this decision haunted Kurush for the rest of his life.

Kurush was hidden in the cargo of a slave ship headed from Labisa to the coast and then transported to the Apunian city of Nashawey. Kurush hoped to gain the support of the Fapacha in reclaiming his throne, but the ruler of Apuna was not interested. However, out of a sense of hospitality, he allowed Kurush to stay in his palace and sent notice to Hutbari claiming that Kurush’s body had been presented to him, thus ending the search for the fugitive king.

Living as a permanent guest of the Apunian court, Kurush was showered with luxury and opulence but suffered greatly. His illness, Asherdul's Bane, worsened, disfiguring him. He refused to learn the Apunian language and was hostile to the servants. In an attempt to lift his spirits, the Fapacha sent him many beautiful men and women, hoping he would take one to wed. However, Kurush showed interest in none except Sanapi, a peasant girl fluent in the Kishite tongue. Akard was the result of a single drunken night between Kurush and Sanapi. Afterward, Kurush disregarded her and ordered her removal from his chambers.

Kurush never saw Sanapi again and didn't think of her until a servant brought a young child before him. The child, named Rebru by Sanapi, was two years old when he was found half-drowned in a decorative fish pond. Wearing rags, the boy began to babble his father’s name, Kurush, which Sanapi had taught him. At the Fapacha's urging, the child was brought before Kurush. Initially, Kurush shunned the child and attacked the slave who brought him. For his safety, the child was taken away from his maddened father.

That night, after many bowls of Apunian beer, Kurush had a dream. He saw a great king, dressed in lion’s skin, standing tall as a cedar tree before the walls of Labisa, driving darkness away with bow and spear. Beside this great king stood another, burning with a wrathful fire. Kurush believed this vision, sent by the sun god Re, showed him retaking Labisa with his son by his side.

Upon waking, Kurush called for his son and declared that the savior of the Kishites would not bear an Apunian name. He renamed the boy Akard, after Akard "The Sailor," the Drowned King. Kurush ensured Akard was well-educated. By four, Akard was bilingual in Apunian and Kishite. By five, he was learning to use a bow; by six, to ride a chariot. Kurush also taught his son about the great kings of old, Tamel the Mighty and Nasib the Lion, instilling a deep hatred for Hutbari.

At 14, with Kurush’s eager approval, Akard traveled with the Fapacha's soldiers to the deserts of Pyria, driving the chariot of Apunian general Batkhet. Over the next decade, Akard, known as Akarat to the Apunians, earned renown fighting the tribes of Pyria and the kingdoms of Namut. His charisma and bravery won him much love from the troops, though it also earned him the ire of old-blood Apunian commanders who saw their men fawn over the young upstart.

Kurush maintained contact with informants in Kishetal, hearing of Hutbari's failings. He formulated a plot to retake his kingdom, supported by Barunaki, ruler of the city of Bur, a vassal of Labisa. However, Kurush's failing health made this plan seem increasingly unlikely. At 23, Akard led his first battalion against the Namutian prince Qirush, capturing him despite being outnumbered. For this victory, Akard was given the noble title Pabaket, a Mouth of the Fapacha.

Around this time, Akard began showing symptoms of Asherdul's Bane. His father, now almost entirely bedridden, was mentally and physically deteriorating. Kurush had neglected to tell Akard the nature of their family curse, until then. Knowledge of his terrible affliction, and the thought of sharing his father’s fate, lit the fires of ambition and intensified the feeling of righteous fury within him. Shortly after Akard’s 25th birthday, Akard, in an act of mercy, killed his father by strangling him, disguising the evidence among the sores on Kurush’s throat.

Akard reached out to his father's contacts in Kishetal, winning their favor with his fire and fervor. He swore to avenge his father and wipe Hutbari's line from Labisa, promising to bring a new, greater line to Labisa. He even sent messengers to the roving tribes of Makur and the Sea Lords of Ikopesh.

With the Fapacha's blessing, Akard boarded a ship to Kishetal, carrying his father's ashes in a satchel of lion skin. Hutbari welcomed the venerable Pabaket into the throne room, unaware that the handsome young Apunian diplomat before him was not only his nephew but also his doom.

Appearance

Akard is a man of average height with a broad chest, narrow waist, and a fit physique. His arms and chest are marked with the scars of battle. When he first arrived in Labisa, he concealed the sores on his skin with makeup to prevent Hutbari and his family from discovering his true nature. His features and hair resemble those of his Kishite father, but he has the terra cotta-colored skin of his Apunian mother. His hazel eyes are framed by long eyelashes. While living among the Apunians, he adorned himself with their decorations, painting his eyes and face gold and blue, and combing sweet-smelling oils through his beard and hair.

His handsome features will one day be marred by the ravenous spread of Asherdul's Bane.

Personality

Akard is charismatic and passionate. His actions and thoughts are driven by his ambitions. He has a strong sense of justice and of honor and will pursue these alongside his ambitions, his dreams of creating a better Kishetal, to terrifying lengths. When he wishes to, he carries an aura and power which draws people to him.

He can be kind and empathetic, a gentle and good ruler, however ultimately history will remember him as a conqueror.

Though usually reasonable, he is driven the fear that his escaped cousin, Ninma, may one day act against him, taking revenge against him as he did against Hutbari. For this reason, he obsesses over the fugitive princess.

Gender/Pronouns

Cis-man He/Him

Sexual Orientation

Straight

Relationships

Akard is close with his men. He acts as a sort of father figure to the warrior, Zatar (though whether Zatar also views their relationship like this is uncertain). He falls in love and in time is married to the seer, Zenit, once a slave of his uncle Hutbari.

His relationship with his family is absolutely terrible, after all he is responsable for the deaths of all but the runaway Ninma and those whose marriage had taken them out of the circle of Kishite influence

Favorite Color

Cyan

Favorite Food

Menam-hewud, a traditional Apunian stew made primarily of beef and onion

Biggest Fear

That the progress and prosperity he has brought to the people of Labisa will be destroyed, either by inner turmoil or Ninma's revenge.

Sage?

No

Literate?

Yes

Excerpt

Context: Akard confronts the oligarchic rulers (The Bidani) of the city of Chibal

" I did not come to this city to hear a greasy merchant babble about why they thought it appropriate to waste my time." Akard barked.

Wadikir dropped to his knees to grovel.

" I didn't mean to offend, Great King. Please forgive me." He leaned forward to kiss Akard's feet.

" Don't touch me, rat."Akard snarled, kicking at the merchant's face. "It seems obvious that incompetents rule this city. As recompense for your wasting my time, I will be taking this city and your heads." He announced coldly. 

This caused the other Bidani to protest loudly.

" You can't do that! There is an agreement that the heads of the cities may not kill each other. You know as well we do. You would be breaking a trust between the city states."

Akard shook his head." That applies to kings, my friend. You are not kings. And besides, who would enforce that agreement? What Kishite king cares so much for your lives that they would rush to condemn me, and who would have the might to do so?"

" We'll have you killed before you even reach the docks! Guard!”

One of Bidani’s guards stepped forward, brandishing his spear threateningly. There was a flash, a spray of red, and yelp of terror from the watching Bidani. The guard collapsed as Zatar pulled the spear from the man’s gullet with a soft squelch. Most hadn’t even seen the spearmaster strike The other guards who had started to move to stand next to their companion tripped over one another in their effort to distance themselves from the spearman. 

Akard chuckled dryly. " A valiant effort, but fruitless. If you did by some twist of fate manage to kill me and my friends here, my men waiting outside the walls would still take this city and slaughter each of you. Whereas if I lead the attack perhaps, just perhaps I'll have a change of heart and decide to spare you, perhaps."

" And if we surrender now?"

" I'll have you all executed, as is deserving of those who would abandon their posts so readily. Good day, see you all again soon."

@patternwelded-quill @flaneurarbiter @skyderman @blackblooms

@roach-pizza @illarian-rambling @dezerex @theocticscribe

@axl-ul, @persnickety-peahen, @surroundedbypearls, @elsie-writes

@mk-writes-stuff, @kaylinalexanderbooks, @the-golden-comet

I thought this was about worms for a second

Imagine you're just some funky little dude living in your society deep underground, perhaps the place of your birth (from dust we come and to dust we shall return, right?), perhaps just a last refuge from the invaders above that come into your domain and slaughter your people and take your resources. Although, as you get older, you begin to realize that your people do an awful lot to encourage it and very little to actually stop it, and regardless of who started it--a childish line of reasoning given that the answer is lost to time--the fact of the matter is that they are scared of us, and we are scared of them. They can survive conditions we can't, and so can we. They are monsters to us, and we are monsters to them.

So your people creep out of what shadowy hiding places they have left and slaughter the Others from above and are slaughtered, and you....you are left curious...? You aren't a warrior, like so many of your people. You don't want to fight the Others. You don't really mind them, at all. You think they could be interesting, if they weren't so scary and/or scared of you. You are both the monsters under one another's beds. You don't get into magic either. Fighting the Other by those means appeals to you just as much as by brute strength. No, you get into collecting, and selling, and trading. Money has its uses, be it money from the Others, or money from your people. And maybe you're a bit more curious then you expected, because one day....oh, one day you don't just creep out of the shadowy hiding places like the rest of your people. One day, you leave the ground. It's rainy, or dark, or snowy, maybe. Humid enough for you to be comfortable, and in conditions that the Others don't seem to like at all.

You collect more of their things. A magnifying glass, maybe, or some of their money. You are religious, and maybe this came from the Others as much as it did your people, though your devotion is from yourself. You go out more and more often, braving the Others' domain just as they brave yours, sneaking around where they drive through throngs of your people in a violent effort to claim/conquer/escape. You never could tell. You still can't.

And one day you find a nice place very similar to where your people live, all humid air and dark corners, but lonely, deserted of both your people and the Others. You set up your shop here, amongst these abandoned tunnels. Sometimes your people come. Sometimes those that are neither your people nor the Others come. The world is full of mysteries and magic, and many of them visit you, and you are well on your way to becoming another spectacle too. It's lonely. Maybe. You never fit in with your people, though, and you'd much rather have this ease of exploring the Others' world at night without a brash of warriors yelling slurs at you as you go up, so you shoulder it when you can't relish in it.

And explore you do.

Up you go at night. In winter. During the rain. Anytime the Others have deserted their town, you'll be there, collecting, exploring, buying and selling.

Until one day, one of the Others finds you.

They startle you.

They take your magnifying glass.

It's your fault. You dropped it. But not just that! They take your privacy, as it turns out, because they find a way into your tunnels not long after they start peering into them and rattling the chains, and what's more, they want to do business with you as much as any of the other curiosities that frequent your shop. They're one too, you begin to realize. A curiosity.

They begin giving you gifts. They come to talk sometimes. Not to look at your wares. To talk. In a way, this is even more befuddling than the gifts. And oh, what gifts they are! They honor you. Pamper you, if you're allowed to say it, and you hope that you are. This Other is kind to you and swiftly becomes your friend. They protect you as a secret, hide you from their people.

And you know....

....you know somewhere, in the back of your soul, or more blatantly when it comes up in conversation, that this is an Other that goes Down and battles your people. Not just that. They slaughter your people. Hunt them for sport. Eradicate them for the safety and sake of their people.

But maybe you love them, in as much as you love anything, and in as much as your people love, which seems, from what you have seen on your hauntings, a very different thing than how Others love. But even so, you start to love them, and your Other starts to love you too, finds it in them to show it to you as you would one of your people, even if this is not what they feel or how they feel.

And one day they do you the greatest honor of all. It took them toiling. It took them time. It took them travels. It took them blood--theirs and that of your people. But they bring you this gift, a very precious gift, and ask you to live with them, up out of the tunnels you've dwelt in, ask you to live with them as a secret. One they want to keep as close as possible.

You have heard the Others chatter the word marriage to one another through the open windows of their shops and tavern at night, and you don't know what it means, or what your Other has to do with it--though when their name comes up in This Sort of Gossip you do not like it--but you think that maybe it means something like this. And you hope that your Other treats it as such. You will leave if they do this thing, this marrying, to someone else, and it might not break your heart because you are not an Other and you do not experience that way, but O, you would live with them no more.

But that hasn't come to pass yet, if it ever will. So you go to their lands. You build yourself a home. You see them work. They see you work.

And sometimes they gather food and potions and weapons and go down to your old home, to the mines, and you know they are slaughtering your people, and you know they must pass through where all the other Others live to get there, and you know your existence is their precious secret that guarantees your safety only so long as they keep it faithfully, and you stay. You stay there. Because this Other knows you better than your people and better than solitude, and because you want them there. And your Other stays with you, even as they face, each time, a cousin of yours, or an old neighbor, or a sibling, or a mentor, or a peer, or a stranger, and are attacked, each and every time, and see it in you that you could attack, could creep into their house easily at night and lay waste to them while they rest as Others must. And your Other stays.

Anyways, I think Krobus is a fuckin crazy character.

delicately cutting this recipe out of the screen in order to save it for a time when I'm not broke

As Promised! A Recipe for Kipsha (Sort of)

Hello everyone! A few days ago I said that, as a way to celebrate reaching 100 followers that I would make one of the dishes from the setting of my WIP. And I did that! Kind of. You see it turns out that Sainsbury's or at least Google, lied to me, and so I was unable to find barely which was a necessary component of this recipe. Even worse when I returned home I found that the only wheat flour that I had was self-rising. And so, I did not make Kipsha (recipe here) which is eaten in the western and central parts of Kishetal, rather I made Kipisa which is eaten on eastern border of Kishetal and Makur in cities like Kutar and Nabi (shown below).

The primary difference between Kipsha and Kipisa is the grain used. Kipisa is made with rye while Kipsha is made with barley. In addition, Kipisa is often served with butter. Butter as a culinary ingredient is almost entirely limited to the eastern plains, where it preferred to or eaten alongside olive oil. Saramuk Ukishiya, meaning "Butter Eater" (Saramuk coming from the Lakuri word for butter, Shayram) is a common derrogatory term used to refer to those people living in the region shown above. The recipe is below the cut!

Kipisa

Kipsha or Kipisa or Kipcha is a kind of cake or biscuit commonly eaten by the wealthy and poor alike. It can vary wildly from soft and spongy to harder and more cracker like. It is a popular form of street food and can be served as savory or sweet. In savory applications honey is typically forgone and olive oil may be replaced with various varieties of animal fat. All varieties contain some amount of barley or more rarely, rye, however examples meant for nobility may contain up to 70 or even 90%.

The name Kipsha is a reference to the sesame and/or poppy seeds used in and sprinkled over the top. Kip being the Kishic word for seed or grain. Though it may also refer to an infant, thus part of the cake's association with fertility.

This recipe is for Sweet Kipisa, as it is enjoyed in the city of Kutar. A similar varient is eaten just across the mountains in Labisa, though here they make use of barley rather rye. It is this barley variety, Kipsha, which is my MC, Narul's favorite dish.

This particular variety of Kipsia is cracker-like, with a slightly chewy interior.

Ingredients

Note: For those ingredients which are not available on earth, approximate substitutes are provided.  

The Cakes

(Note that Kishetal has no distinct set of measurements nor are recipes recorded. Recipes are typically passed down orally and differ greatly between regions and even families. Adjust ingredients to one's own liking)

1 ¾ cups Rye Flour

1 ¼ Unbleached Wheat Flour

½ cup Water

1 Tbsp Olive Oil or Untoasted Sesame Oil

2 Tbsp Sweet White Wine (Riesling or Muscat are suggested)

3 Tbsp Kafa (This Kishic yogurt drink can be substituted with equal parts plain greek yogurt and whole milk)

2 Tbsp Honey 

1 Tbsp Red Wine Vinegar

2 ½ Tsp Untoasted White Sesame Seeds

½ Tsp Sinrian Cinnamon (Substitute Cassia Cinnamon)

¼ Tsp Ground Black Pepper

Toppings

 1. This are meant to reflect Narul’s Preferred Toppings, though with the addition of more typically eastern additions

1-2 Dried figs chopped (Fresh figs may be substituted)

3 Tbsp Honey, warmed

2 Tbsp Regula Juice (Substitute 1:1 parts orange and lemon juice)

Ground black pepper to taste

Sesame Seeds to taste

Chibalan Salt to taste (Substitute: Flake Salt)

Torn mint leaves

Goat Butter, melted (Cow or sheep is also acceptable)

2. Other Toppings

Unsalted soft cheese such as ricotta

Yogurt

Dates

Crushed nuts (typically walnuts or pistachios)

Chopped Cherries or other fruits

Preparation

1. Combine all dry ingredients in a large bowl.

2. In a different bowl combine all liquid ingredients and whisk thoroughly.

3. Combine wet and dry ingredients, knead using your hands to form a firm ball, add water and flour as needed to achieve this.

4. Cover the dough with a damp towel and allow it to rest at room temperature for a minimum of 1 hour and a maximum of 4.

5. Preheat oven to 400 F or 200 C (fan 195 C).

6. Liberally dust a counter or large cutting board with rye flour. Dust a rolling pin or similar instrument with flour.

7. Place the rested dough onto the floured surface and roll out to approximately 1/4 inch

8. Using a biscuit cutter or knife, cut dough into cakes, these can be any number of shapes, delicately score the surface.

9. Place cakes on a covered cookie sheet making sure that they do not touch. 

10. Bake for 10-15 minutes until golden or lightly browned.

11. Remove and immeditately apply melted butter, honey, and regalu juice to surface. Allow to sit and cool for at least 5 minutes (Kipisa is not eaten hot. The more time is allowed for the absorption of the toppings, the better)

12. Once cool, add additional toppings. It is not unusual at this point to add additional butter and honey, nor is it unheard to dip the cake in the regalu juice and butter while eating it.

13. Enjoy!

I probably should have a taglist but I don't know who all would be on it, whoops. So I'm just tagging my followers that liked the original post @patternwelded-quill , @skyderman , @flaneurarbiter , @jclibanwrites , @alnaperera, @rhokisb, @blackblooms , @lord-nichron , @kosmic-kore , @friendlyshaped , @axl-ul , @talesfromtheunknowable , @wylanzahn , @dyrewrites , @foragedbonesblog

I don't understand how you've made this coherent, but you have

Getting my tire replaced, send me AEIWAM questions?

so I cracked open my document for worldbuilding/writing for the first time in forever today

and I realized that I can worldbuild to infinity, but I can't actually write the story to save my life. So, in an attempt to get me motivated to write the thing, here's some information on the dominant religion in my world.

Worships a pantheon of gods and spirits. The main difference between the two is that gods can be replaced, but spirits cannot.

Spirits are the embodiments of abstract concepts, while gods are more like people with supreme power over a concrete object.

Sometimes humans mash together similar gods and spirits, as seen with how Krunin and Brin got mistaken for the same person, but some are distinct enough, like the fearfully unnamed spirit of death and Rylai

 Society sees the daytime sky as more in tune with the earth, even having a myth about how the daytime sky protects the earth from the vast expanse of the universe. Hence why Fyrian’s title is “God of the earthly sky” The night sky is seen as more tied to the universe at large, since you can see all of the stars at night.

The story goes that both Greavi, Astrapulli, and Fyrian worked together to create humanity, with Astrapulli going on to take the roll of being the one to guide humanity on the road to advancements, Fyrian being Humanity’s protector and Greavi being the great provider.

Astrapulli and Fyrian are often worshiped together in a duality or balance capacity, especially in the leviathan kingdom. It’s actually half the reason the Leviathan Kingdom’s capital of Crenan was established.

The gods are worshiped in daily life at their specific shrines. People will go there and pray and leave offerings towards a god.

Not everyone regularly worships every god, but each god and goddess has their own holidays that are upheld

It might seem weird that there hasn’t been much mythical drift across time and various disruptive historical events, however the explanation of this is two-fold. First, the gods are actually real, and have made several appearances throughout history and prehistory and in every country, thus leaving humanity to make a more concrete mythical lore. Secondly, Yvine Ojan spent a lot of time codifying the myths from all across the continent, creating a relatively solid canon for the gods, and it’s only been slightly over a hundred years since she did that, thus not giving the myths much time to drift

Gods, and some spirits

Empyria-Goddess of music

Patron goddess of the L’norinette family

Constantly at war with Greavi for reasons forgotten by mortals

An'Tuska- Spirit of precipitation

Has a rivalry with Fyrian

Iapert-goddess of the sea

Merudi- God of wealth

There Is a week-long festival in the Ojalana empire that ends in a massive public ball hosted by the palace. This event, Called Deviti week attracts many tourists

Patron of the Ojalana Empire

Works closely with the spirits of plenty and deficit

Myrcid- goddess of justice and fair rule

Patron Goddess of the Ojalana Empire

Astrapulli- God of the universal sky

His left eye is the moon- which is also inhabited by Herun, the spirit of moonlight

Co-creator of humanity

Fyrian- God of the earthly sky

His right eye is the sun- inhabited by the spirit of sunlight, Degras

Co-creator of humanity

Greavi- Goddess of the natural world

Co-creator of humanity

Krunin- god of the eternal flame

Commonly depicted as a war god, representing the undying loyalty and determination of soldiers, as well as the destruction of war.  In actuality he is a god of immortality and fire as his epithet would suggest, war is actually controlled by the spirit brin-who is close friends with Krunin.

Pynis (pie-nis)- Goddess of rocks and earth

Rylai (ree-ly)- god of living spirits

Has control over the souls of all living and dead creatures (including plants)

The spirit of death

Goes unnamed out of fear that writing the spirit’s name will call it to them.

It incites a soul’s journey to the beyond-place, which hosts the true kingdom of Rylai