Zonorhc

I come here to remind myself why I need to finish my degrees.

ANAL no.

Recommend: Dan Abnett, Eisenhorn (get the omnibus edition, totally worth it) Also recommend that Lenin reads it again. Just read/currently reading: C. L. Werner, Mathias Thulmann: Witch Hunter (omnibus edition: Witch Hunter/Witch Finder/Witch Killer)

I eagerly await Alestorm's Black Sails at Midnight.

Why should we care if people think metal is satanic? It's not like the inquisition's after us.

Can you guys tell me if there's anything wrong with the pacing? I'm a little out of my comfort zone here, what with writing in first person and not having any killing happen in the first few paragraphs. Anyway, he's some more. *** TWO There was a corpse on the floor, and the striking young Ventaran woman kneeling beside it sang beautifully between masterful sobs. Lord Rorden was paying rapt attention beside me, a tiny pair of binoculars held up to his lean face. At his other side, Lady Rorden was wiping off tears with a silk handkerchief. The other five men in the entourage were doing a convincing job of pretending to pay attention. I hadn't even had time to fully appreciate the beauty of the cliff city of Mircalae before I'd been bundled into a coach and told that I would be attending an opera with Lord Rorden in a few hours' time. All I'd seen of the city was what could be glimpsed through the portholes of the flyer as it descended to perch on a high landing platform. The lights were dimming in the theatre as the final echoes of the song died down, and the audience began to applaud. The performance had been about some old Mircallin legend about a privateer and a noblewoman. I must confess that most of the language was lost on me. Lord Rorden was kind enough to explain it to me during the intermissions, so I had the gist of it. There was a captain from the southern isles who took a liking to the Duke of Mircalae's daughter at a ball, and the poor girl had disguised herself as a crewman on a whaling ship in the hope of seeing him. One night, a ship approached hers, and, thinking that it was her lover's, she hailed it. It turned out to be a pirate ship, and a great battle ensued between the whalers and the pirates. I must admit that I found that scene to be quite spectacular. Word back home was that the Mircallin, like the other technologically backward peoples of the eastern territories, had some proficiency with the arcane, and they certainly used their illusions to great effect. At the climax of the action, just as the girl was about to be captured, another ship drew alongside to save the day. There was another fight, and it turned out that it was the privateer vessel she had been looking for after all, and the captain put up a bold fight to save her from the pirates. Alas, just as the last of the pirates were defeated, he found that he had been mortally wounded, and I thought that he was able to sing at surprising length for a dying man. Apparently, it was the kind of story that appealed to the Mircallin mindset. And to people like Lord Rorden, I thought. 'What did you think of it?' the old nobleman asked me as we took drinks in the foyer. 'This is the third time that I've seen it since arriving here, and I must say that it fails to lose its novelty.' 'It was nice,' I said lamely. 'I'm sure I would have something more to say about it if I could understand what they were saying, my lord.' He barked out a laugh and clapped me on the shoulder, almost sending me sprawling forwards. 'Good man. Honest. If you had any idea how many of these charlatans,' he said, waving his hand vaguely at the groups of aristocrats around us, 'have professed to loving every aspect of De Mare after hearing that a Dramaskan nobleman had taken a liking to it...' One of his men walked up and whispered something in his ear. 'Excuse me,' Lord Rorden said. 'It appears that there is a matter requiring my immediate attention. I will see you in my chambers tomorrow morning, Mr. Vex.' I raised my glass in acknowledgement as he turned and walked off, his gold-trimmed black opera cloak billowing behind him. I quickly became acutely aware of just how isolated I was from the rest of the milling crowd. I wasn't a nobleman or a man of means, and I couldn't really relate to any of them. Truth be told, I was only here out of politeness to my employer. This whole trip was for business, and I didn't see how I could talk shop with any of the overdressed people in the opera house's foyer. There were drinks, though, so I stayed and mingled for a while before taking myself out to a balcony, a drink in each hand in case my first ran out. The opera house sat on a rise overlooking the city's mercantile district. Beyond it were the great, squat shapes of Mircalae's famous sea lifts, each one housing a piece of arcanotech which if the stories were to be believed allowed people and goods to be moved to and from the docks half a mile below in moments. Both moons were well on their way to the western horizon, leaving much of the city in shadow. Its broad, winding streets were picked out as snaking lines of oil lamps, and the faint light from the Belt was reflected off the occasional dome or spire. It was nowhere near the overwhelming scale of smog-choked Dramaskus City, but it was certainly beautiful. It certainly lacked some of Dramaskus' other charms, like its rowdy night life and raging gang wars. 'Waiting for someone?' It was the Ventaran lady, the singer. She spoke flawless Dramaskan. She was smiling. I found myself staring at her lips more than her eyes or her cleavage, an attraction which I still find difficult to explain even with the benefit of retrospect. She had a gauzy shawl wrapped around her slender, tanned shoulders. 'No,' I managed to reply after a moment of near-panic. I was not accustomed to being addressed in any remotely friendly way by lone, attractive women. 'Just enjoying the view.' She laughed a little, a smoky sound that would have been at home in any Dramaskan gentlemen's club, although in that situation it would have set you back a fair amount of currency. 'It is better during the daytime,' she said as she gave my attire a considering look. 'Not from around here?' 'From Dramaskus,' I said, as if she couldn't tell from the austere, high-collared coat. 'Here for business.' 'You are with Lord Rorden?' She smiled. I didn't think she meant it as a question, which put me on my guard instantly. 'I spoke with him,' I said, not wanting to answer her question entirely. 'He left early.' She chuckled again, much to my discomfort. I was suddenly aware of how chilly the evening was. 'So the men he chooses to associate with are as intelligent and circumspect as he is,' she said, plucking the glass of drink from my other hand without so much as asking. 'And as suspicious, I see. A fascinating man.' 'You know him?' 'I know of him,' she smiled. 'His love of the arts of our backward people is famous. Or infamous, depending on who you ask. I don't know you, however. Katarina di Vastri.' She offered her gloved hand. I shook it. 'Barthol Vex,' I said, before registering her scandalised look. 'What?' She rallied well, giving a short laugh. 'Accepted practice among primitives like us is to kiss the lady's hand, Mr. Vex,' she chided me. I laughed nervously. 'This isn't my element at all.' 'So I see. Would you care for more wine?' Lord Rorden's chambers were in the south wing of the ducal palace. They were richly appointed with frescoes and white marble bas-reliefs of ships and sea creatures, and hanging drapes that matched the blue-on-white livery of the servants. Out of consideration for his Dramaskan sensibilities, the palace staff had refrained from assigning him any of the slaves. There was a balcony overlooking the courtyard three storeys below, and Lord Rorden was leaning over it, his hands on the marble balustrade. There was an empty glass beside him. There was a servant who took pains to ensure that mine never ran dry, but the old nobleman didn't seem to have my appetite. 'You are one of the finest machinesmiths in the Imperial capital,' Lord Rorden said. 'Thank you, sir.' 'You have helped one of the Empire's most celebrated geologists make what is, I believe, the most important discovery in Imperial history since Gerhaz Valzarene documented the properties of drystar more than fifteen hundred years ago.' 'Thank you, sir,' I said again, wondering if he'd called me south just to congratulate me. 'Do you have any idea, Mr. Vex,' he said, turning his head to look at me, 'of the impact on Imperial science that this discovery will make?' 'A little, my lord,' I said, bringing up knowledge from memories of my formal education, such that it was. 'Torvene's energy conversion formulae will need some revision, as will Voltath's laws of matter agitation. I don't know too much about the subject, but I believe some works of arcane theory will also require re-examination, especially the stuff that deals with elemental reactivity and binding. I'm sure Dr. Malkim will have plenty to say to the Institute about their criticism of his former work on theoretical geology.' 'And that's only scratching the surface, is it not, Mr. Vex?' 'Yes, my lord.' 'Leave us,' he dismissed the servants. 'Look at this,' he said, taking a small device out of his pocket. It was a small wooden cube with brass fittings styled to resemble ocean waves. I did not for a moment believe that it was Imperial in origin. 'Mircallin,' he confirmed my unspoken suspicion, handing it to me. 'There is a tiny drystar engine inside it. I must say that these people are becoming very adept at miniaturising our technology. Of course, they're still no good at using it on the scale that we do, but I must give them credit for something. Try it.' There was a small copper stud on one side of the box. I pressed it, and promptly let go of the device in surprise. A spark of electricity had arced along a couple of the fittings, and the whole thing began to float in front of me, supported by a pair of miniature copper wings that all that I knew told me should not have been able to keep it aloft. 'Arcanotech?' I mused, marvelling at the tiny flying device. To my dismay, it only floated for half a minute before falling unceremoniously to the floor, inert. I picked it up and took out the tiny tube of drystar fuel. 'How?' 'It seems,' Lord Rorden said, 'that our seafaring, magic-using friends have discovered something interesting of their own. They've had the ability to turn arcane power into electricity for a while, as you probably know. The sea lift is a good example of it. They use that kind of arcanotech to haul things they otherwise couldn't use magic for, such as with arc-sensitive or arc-null goods. Very interesting stuff. You can probably guess at what they managed to find with that little trinket I just gave you.' I thought for a moment, several ideas forming, but none of them seemed at all possible. Finally, I gave up thinking, and suggested the one that seemed most logical given Lord Rorden's train of thought. 'They've found a way to convert electricity into arcane power?' He clapped me on the shoulder, grinning. 'Exactly, Mr. Vex. They've found a way to reverse the process.' 'Drystar is a natural arc-null material,' I protested, my mind refusing to accept the idea though I had an example lying in a ruined heap at my feet. 'They couldn't have...' 'We've been working on insulation for a while,' Lord Rorden reminded me, and I grudgingly nodded. 'But from what I've heard, they use the arcane feedback to boost the conversion. It's not very efficient, you see.' I didn't have the heart to ask him where he'd heard all this. He was already displaying a surprising amount of technical knowledge for a nobleman. What was a bit of arcanotechnical savvy beside that? Anyway, nobles had a lot of money and time on their hands, and I supposed the old man had simply chosen to point his energies at something other than politics or the innumerable vices that I would have taken up were I in his position. I began to form an idea of what he could have wanted of me, given the circumstances. Surely he was telling me some sort of privileged knowledge. But why me? Why not an actual Imperial engineer? 'Because you are in my employ,' he said when I asked. 'The engineers in Velind might have all the resources of the Empire at their disposal, but ultimately, they answer to the Emperor and the Council of Nobles. What I want from you will not be popular among many of the Empire's wealthy and influential.' I was afraid of that. 'The skystone,' he said, stepping back inside. I followed him as he went to his desk and opened the case that Gustav had sent with me. He put on a heavy leather gauntlet, and took out one of the tiny stones inside, admiring it against the sunlight. 'Fascinating thing, and if your theory is correct, Mr. Vex...' 'It's not a theory, sir,' I said, 'just some old stories. And all I know from one observation.' He waved me into silence. 'Your theory. A potentially limitless source of energy. A vast amount of power, unleashed whenever wind touches the stone.' 'Dangerous, sir,' I cautioned him. 'Very dangerous.' 'Of course,' he agreed with a smile, 'as objects of power tend to be. You don't think for one moment that drystar is harmless, do you? No, far from it... but look at how we benefit from harnessing its power. This tiny stone, Mr. Vex! Think of how the Empire no, all mankind can benefit from it. A new age of technological prosperity, Mr. Vex, all from your work.' 'Dr. Malkim said much the same thing, my lord. I'm unconvinced.' 'Unconvinced?' He put the stone back into its case, shutting it with a snap. 'What is there to not be convinced about? Look at how far we have gone with drystar engines, Mr. Vex. Think of what we could do if their power was magnified tenfold, maybe a hundredfold, using one tiny stone and literally a bit of air.' 'We don't know everything about it, my lord. It took us a century to realise that it was drystar that was preventing us from using arcane power like we used to. I'm not in a hurry to start using this new source. We should study it first.' Lord Rorden smiled at me. 'I think you've got it, my boy. Think! The skystone, a source of power like we've never seen before and this new arcanotech. Inefficient, yes, but when you have an infinite source of power...' 'You want to use the skystone to bring magic back to the Empire,' I said flatly. 'My lord, we still have vast tracts of forest in our lands that are irreparably corrupted by arcane energy. Let the other peoples of the world have their magic, sir. The Empire has done well enough without it.' He looked downcast. 'We will be more responsible with power than our ancestors,' he said, his voice lacking conviction. 'We won't make the same mistakes.' 'And the Dragon Cults, sir? Do you think they'd be as restrained?' He sat down behind his desk, his previous energy gone. In its place, a look of resignation. Emperors, but I did feel sorry for the old man then. 'You say we should study it,' he said, after a few minutes of awkward silence. 'Yes, sir,' I agreed, though I was apprehensive. Lord Rorden did not seem the type to give up that easily, and he was canny enough that whatever he originally wanted, he would get, one way or another. I must admit that he had me trapped, regardless. I couldn't walk away from this, not now. Not when I needed his protection. 'Good.' He took a thick, bound file from a drawer and slid it across the desk to me. 'Show me what you can do with it.'

If the consensus wasn't that Stephenie Meyer is a hack author who clothes her prose in adjectives to disguise its insipid blandness, and that she is nothing more than the beneficiary of a viciously effective marketing strategy, then you lot can all hang your heads in shame and hope to hell that the ghost of Bram Stoker doesn't haunt your every waking moment for reading her awful softcore porn-[bleep]-vampire romance.

Cool story, bro.

Just because you get published early doesn't mean what you write is actually any good. Also, it probably helped that his parents were publishers or something like that.

Technically what you are looking at is light reflected off objects, which means you are seeing photons.

Which is why the defendant is tried by their peers.

From when I was leveling, still the same now that I'm 80: [hide=][/hide] Never had any problems with this UI.

OP is an internet tough guy.

All of Dwarf Fortress is one big "screw you" moment.

Dawn of War 2 and Diablo 3. Diablo 3 especially for playing with my friends.

If you want to argue that the judicial system has no right to sentence a murderer, rapist, pedophile or traitor to death, I would argue that it has no right to let them live.

Ban tabloid journalism.

If it's not humane to kill, what does that say about a judicial system - allegedly serving the communal good - that will allow murderers to live at public expense, or even allow them to be free?

Because they choose how they act. And their choices happen to be the wrong ones.

It's a good thing that not everybody thinks like you, otherwise we'd be giving murderers and serial rapists a slap on the wrist and telling them to be good from now on instead of sticking them behind bars or otherwise removing them and the threat that they represent from society. If you bothered to read what's been said, the more involved argument is that the death penalty is not there to punish or cause suffering as some form of revenge, but rather to excise a cancer from the social body and permanently ensure that it cannot cause further harm.

Which is why cases have to be proven to a degree beyond reasonable doubt. I didn't just start shooting in a crowded train station. I didn't just sell state secrets to a foreign power. I didn't just endanger thousands of lives by supplying narcotics. I didn't just molest a child. I didn't just rape several women. That is the difference between me and an inmate on death row. More importantly, that is the difference between the judge and the jury, and the defendant. When an individual chooses to endanger society, they forfeit all rights to their humanity. Moreover, it should no longer be the society's responsibility to keep them safe and in comfort. Which is why a defendant can appeal to insanity and be interred in a mental institution rather than a prison. However, there are people who try to abuse this system, which leads to spiraling costs and vast amounts of time wasted. To be honest, I believe that criminals on death row should only be allowed up to two appeals, to expedite their disposal.

I do not believe that the worst of criminals deserve to live at the expense of the public that they chose to endanger. Would you succour a man or woman whom you know to be guilty of murder, rape, treason or child molestation and keep them in your home, feeding, clothing and giving them shelter for the rest of their lives? It's really a shame that public floggings and hangings have gone out of fashion.

You're not Genghis Kahn.. Are you sure? Do you want to take that risk?

The greatest pleasure is to vanquish your enemies and chase them before you, to rob them of their wealth and see those dear to them bathed in tears, to ride their horses and clasp to your bosom their wives and daughters.

Too bad rogues are still OP and warlocks are still useless.