Long Signature Fetish
-
wats with these ppl??
jiak bah kah eng isit?
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~~EviL AngeL~~
and her power -- [Frozen Flames]
You can try to resist
Try to hide from my kiss
But you know but you know that you
Can't fight the moonlight -
One after another. Very soon this place will be flooded with signature.
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If I knew it would be the last time that I'd see you fall asleep,
I would tuck you in more tightly and pray the Lord, your soul to keep.
If I knew it would be the last time that I see you walk out the door,
I would give you a hug and kiss and call you back for one more.
If I knew it would be the last time I'd hear your voice lifted up in praise,
I would video tape each action and word, so I could play them back day after day. -
my is short but not without sense. read it u will like it for some......... willl update once i finished scanning the whole book.....
enjoy.............
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Shakespeare's life
Shakespeare's plays are read and performed all over the world. Yet they were written by an ordinary Englishman almost four hundred years ago. Ben Johnson, a fellow writer of Shakespeare, said that he was not for any one century, but for all time. One might add that he was for all places and all races.
We do not know many firm facts about most ordinary people of William Shakespeare's time, but we do know quite a lot about him. Several documents, or papers, about him survive. They include baptismal and burial records, business and theatre papers, and his Will. We also know a great deal about life in the sixteenth century. From all this we can build up a picture of Shakespeare's life.
Shakespeare was born about the 23rd April 1564, in the family home at Henley Street, in Stratford-upon-Avon, a small town in England about 100 km from London, the capital city. He was christened on that day in Holy Trinity church in Stratford. He was the third of the eight children, four boys and four girls, of John and Mary Shakespeare.
John's father, Richard, had been a farmer in a village a few miles from Stratford. John, like others of his generation, rejected the farming life in favour of learning a profitable trade. He became a glove-maker in Stratford, which was quickly becoming bigger and richer.
Stratford was a flourishing market town of about 1400 people, with many trades, the chief of which was brewing beer. It had regular trading fairs and markets, and many travellers passed through it. John Shakespeare made many other leather goods besides gloves. He became rich and rose rapidly to positions of importance in the town, becoming bailiff (i.e. mayor) in 1569. Shakespeare's mother, Mary Arden, was from a rich and ancient landowning family, so John had made more than one step in the world.
John Shakespeare's son, William, almost certainly attended the local grammar shool, the King's New School. Girls received little education. They had some training at home in needlework, singing and other skills, but boys of prosperous families started school at the age of four or five. A great deal of time was spent studying the 1-atin language. '1'he school day was a demanding one. It started at six in the morning and went on with little break until five in the afternoon.
William Shakespeare probably left school at the age of fifteen or sixteen. He then probably became an apprentice or trainee in his father's shop.
At the age of eighteen he married Anne Hathaway, the daughter of a neighbouring farmer, who was seven or eight years older than him. Anne gave birth to their first child, Susanna, about six months later. 1,ess than two years after that, in February 1585, the twins, Hamnet (who died at eleven) and Judith (who lived to seventy-seven) were born.
Almost nothing is known about Shakespeare's life between 1585 and the early 1590s, though there are many legends. For example, it is said that he stole deer from a rich man's estate and had to escape to London to avoid being prosecuted. Some people believe that he worked as a schoolmaster, a lawyer's clerk, a soldier, a printer or a seaman. We shall probably never know.
We know for certain that at some point in these years he went to London, and eventually became an actor and playwright. (The 'Wright' in 'playwright' has nothing to do with writing, but means a 'craftsman' or 'maker', as in 'shipwright', or 'wheelwright'.)
By 1594 Shakespeare was one of a group of actors called the Lord Chamberlain's Men. There were several such groups, each depending on a patron, a rich man who supported them with gifts of money. The best groups soon be- came profitable enough for the actors to grow rich, as Shakespeare himself did. By 1598 he was famous for writing tragedy, comedy and history plays, and also poetry.
In 1597 he was rich enough to buy New Place, the second largest house in Stratford, and in the 1600s he bought several more pieces of land around the town. He stayed with the Lord Chamberlain's Men, who were renamed the Kin's Men when James 1 became King in 1603, until he retired from the stage. He did little writing after 1610 and none, as far as we know, after 1613. He spent his last years in Stratford, only occasionally visiting London. He concerned himself with his business affairs, over which he was extremely careful. He remained a countryman, although he was a man of wide experience in the larger world of town and city. His plays reflect both town and country life.
In his will he remembered his family, his old friends from the theatre, and some ordinary people of his native town. He died on 23rd April 1616, and was buried two years later in the church in which, fifty-two years earlier, he had been christened.
Shakespeare's England
The England that Shakespeare knew was very different from the modem industrialised country it is today.
The countryside
Most people lived in small towns or villages, and the great majority were farmers. They kept sheep, chickens and cattle, and grew fruit, vegetables, wheat, oats and barley. They used horses for pulling ploughs and carts. Many farmers, like William Shakespeare's grandfather, Richard, were tenant farmers (that is, they rented land from rich landowners). Far larger areas than today were forest or marshes, and were not used for agriculture or housing.
Most rural people stayed in the same village throughout their whole lives. Transport was very difficult, as there were, of course, no buses, trains or cars, and roads were few and extremely bad. Ale main ways of travelling were on horseback, by horse-drawn carriage, or by boat along rivers and along the coast.
Houses were usually one or two storeys high, built of brick or of wood and mud, with thatched or tiled roofs, like Anne 1-lathaway's cottage. Rich people, however, lived in far bigger houses, and some in huge and beautiful palaces with hundreds of rooms. There were also many beautiful churches.
The towns
Towns were far smaller than they are today, and there were no big industries as we know them. People carried on many different trades and crafts, working at home or in small workshops. Clothmaking, leatherwork (such as Richard Shakespeare was engaged in), pottery, carpentry, baking, brewing, preparing meat, working in iron and steel, gold and silver, were examples of trades carried on in towns and villages. A great deal of very beautiful and skilled work was carried on in architecture, wood-carving, plasterwork for walls and ceilings, painting, embroidery and jewellery.
London
London was the capital city, then as now, but it had many fewer people than nowadays. It was a rich city that traded with many countries. It was also crowded, dangerous and dirty. There were many beautiful buildings, but there was no clean water supply or proper sanitation. Sewage ran into the river Thames. Rich people used to carry bunches of flowers or spiced oranges close to their noses when they walked in the streets because the smell was so bad. Not surprisingly, there were many outbreaks of the plague and other diseases. Most houses were built of wood and were crammed close together. In 1666, fifty years after Shakespeare died, most of London was burnt down in the famous 'Great Fire'.
The social system
There was a great difference between the way ordinary people and the rich and powerful ones lived. Rich landowners could keep hundreds of craftsmen working for them, as well as hundreds of permanent servants. Some- times they also supported drama or music and became 'patrons' to a group of actors or musicians, paying them for their work. The Earl of Southampton was Shakespeare's patron. At the head of all these rich and powerful people was the Queen, Elizabeth I. From Whitehall in London, she and her chief ministers ruled the country.
Queen Elizabeth I ruled England from 1558 to 1603. Her position was very "rent from that of the present Queen, Elizabeth II. She had more power than a modern-day President or Prime Minister: she often disagreed with Parliament, and could order the imprisonment or death of anyone, even an important minister or landowner.
Like other rich people of the day, Elizabeth I was a great patroness of poetry, drama, music and all the crafts. She loved beautiful clothes and had thousands of highly decorated dresses stored in her various palaces.
Elizabeth, and her successor James I, who ruled from 1603 to 1625, were, like all the kings and queens before them, different in one very important way from most modern Presidents or Prime Ministers. People believed that they were the representatives of God, and had a divine, or God-given, right to rule, which put them above everyone else in the country. People believed strongly that everyone had a fixed position in life. Anyone, for example, who opposed a king, as Macbeth does when he kills King Duncan, is breaking the proper order of things. Just as all parts of the body should obey the head, so the wife should obey the husband, and the subject the Queen (or King). Highest of all was God, whom everyone had to obey.
Everyone at any level of society was very likely to remain there: a farmer's son was likely to remain a farmer, and, unlike today, could not easily rise to a position of power through education. William Shakespeare's father, John, was an example of a farmer's son who was quite successful in his own town, but most really important people of Shakespeare's day were from a few powerful old families.
Shakespeare's plays reflect the big differences between the classes of people. His heroes and heroines are usually kings, queens or other aristocrats - rich and powerful people. Often such people came to watch his plays so they were, of course, interested. Even the ordinary men and women in the audience usually expected to see plays about exceptional or famous people, not about ordinary people like themselves. Shakespeare's plays are mostly written in poetry, but his poor people and servants usually speak in prose (that is, ordinary, non-poetic language). Most of the humorous scenes in Shakespeare deal with ordinary people rather than aristocrats, so that we laugh at 'lower-class' people more often than at 'upper-class' ones.
Religion
England had been Catholic until the middle of the sixteenth century when Henry VII quarrelled with the Pope and broke away from the Church of Rome. Elizabeth 1 enforced Protestant Christianity by law. Those not attending church regularly were punished. Catholics were increasingly oppressed.
For the first time, the Bible was widely available in English, and the large numbers of illiterate people could at least hear it read. Shakespeare's work uses the rhythms and images of the Bible, though he does not often mention characters or stories by name.
The Renaissance
The Renaissance (rebirth of learning) began in Italy in the fourteenth century and spread throughout Europe. There was new interest in the ancient Greek and Roman classics, and also new forms of art, architecture, music and literature. It was a period of change, questioning and vitality. People no longer believed everything they were told, but tried to find things out for themselves. Shakespeare's plays are part of this 'rebirth'.
Poetry and drama
In England it was above all an age of great poetry and drama. Besides Shakespeare himself, there were Spenser, Sidney, Marlowe, Chapmen, Johnson, and many other important writers. The drama especially flowered as never be- fore in England. Elizabethan music is also still performed and enjoyed in many places today.
Science, magic and medicine
Scientific and medical knowledge was progressing very fast in Shakespeare's day, but there was still a great deal of ignorance. People knew very little about health care, and did not understand that dirt breeds disease. William Shakespeare was one of eight children, but three of them died in childhood. Only he and one sister lived to over fifty. This was typical for that period. 'Apothecaries', or chemists, like the one in Romeo and Juliet, knew a lot about medicinal herbs, but there were many mistaken beliefs. People believed that a sick person could be cured by having the bad blood taken out of him: leeches, which look rather like small worms, were put on sick people's skin to suck out the 'bad blood'. People often died of the medicine they were given rather than of the disease!
People thought that everything was made up of four 'elements', Air, Water, Earth and Fire. In the human body there were four liquids, the 'humours', which corresponded to the elements and affected a person's behaviour. These were melancholy (bitter black bile from the liver) which made one sad; blood, which made one courageous; choler (bitter yellow bile from the liver) which made one angry; and phlegm (the mucous from one's nose, etc) which made one quiet and calm.
The ideal person was supposed to be a good mixture between the humours or elements. For example, in Shakespeare's Julius Caesar, (Act Five, scene 5), Brutus is described as having 'The elements/So mixed in him, that nature might stand up/And say to all the world, this was a man.'
Many people believed in witches, who co-operated with the devil and could harm others by their strange prayers and medicines; they could see into the future, like the three witches in Macbeth. Many harmless people, especially weak-minded old women, were accused of being witches, and were burnt to death.
Astrology and astronomy
Many people believed in astrology, a study of the stars and planets which, they thought, affected people's lives. The sun, the planets and some of the stars seem to move through the twelve groups of stars we call the Zodiac. Ale position of these stars when a person is born is supposed to affect his character and the events of his life. For example, the unlucky Romeo and Juliet are called 'star-crossed lovers'. Because the stars were in a certain unfavourable position, Romeo and Juliet had to die. In other words, people cannot control their own lives, but are controlled by the stars. '1'he horoscopes, or star signs, in today's newspapers and magazines are based on a belief in astrology.
Until the late seventeenth century, people thought that the earth was the centre of the universe, with moon, sun and stars revolving around it. Shakespeare probably believed this. Astronomy, the science of studying the planets and stars, was progressing very fast but, as late as 1616, the Italian astronomer Galileo got into trouble with the Catholic Church for supporting the view that the earth went round the sun.
Exploration
In general, however, people in Western Europe were finding out more and more about the world. Explorers sailed to Africa, Asia and America in their small (by our standards) wooden sailing boats, bringing back information and riches to their countries. Scientists were looking at the sky through the telescope (which was invented in 160
, and performing many experiments to find out about the body, about medicine, and about the world around them.
Elizabethan drama
Today's theatres are comfortable buildings with seats for all the audience, and powerful electric lighting to illuminate the actors performing on stage. Often there is complicated scenery made of wood or cloth, representing walls, trees and so on, to give the impression of indoor or outdoor scenes.
In Shakespeare's day, theatres were Very different. The central part had no roof. As there was no electricity to light the theatres they had to depend on sun- light. The central, open-air part contained the stage and a yard. Many of the audience stood in the yard in front of the stage. The stage was raised so that everyone could see. Those who could pay higher prices sat on seats arranged in two or three storeys in a rough circle around the yard, rather as in a very small football stadium. Sometimes they even sat on the stage! The top storey of seats had a roof, and there was also an extra storey, the 'heavens', above the back of the stage, which contained machinery (for example, for lowering and lifting actors playing gods). At the back of the stage were large double doors or curtains leading to a dressing room for the actors. The space behind was also used for some inside scenes, for example, Juliet's tomb in Romeo and Juliet. Actors also went in and out (entered and exited) through these doors. There were trapdoors going down through the stage, for use as tombs, prisons or even hell. Unlike today's theatres, there was no scenery, so actors in Shakespeare's time could move very freely. Costumes were often rich and impressive, but not historically accurate. For example, the Romans in Julius Caesar would have been dressed more or less as Elizabethan gentlemen. Without costumes or scenery, plays had to rely on words to show the audience where and when the story was taking place. For example, in Romeo and Juliet, the play opens with lines which 'set the scene':
'Two households, both alike in dignity In fair Verona, where we lay our scene ...
(Act One, scene 1)
The audience had to use their imaginations far more than we do in the cinema or theatre today, and especially in one matter: there were no actresses! The theatre was not considered a respectable place for women to work, so all the women's parts were taken by young boys whose voices had not yet broken.
The origins of western European theatre
The western European tradition of theatre began in Greece in the fifth century BC. Tragedies and comedies were performed in huge open-air theatres for thousands of people. The tragedies usually dealt with traditional heroes of the past and with the gods.
The tradition of Greek theatre continued into Roman times, and famous Latin plays were written until about the first century AD. These Greek and Latin plays continued to be read, first in the original languages, and later in translation. Shakespeare would have known many of their stories and characters. Theseus and Hippolyta, Pyramus and Thisbe in A Midsummer Night's Dream, Hecuba and Helen, Acneas and Dido in Hamlet, for example, are all characters from Latin and Greek poetry and drama. Juno, Jupiter, Mars and Venus are some of the many gods that the Greeks and Romans believed in before the introduction of Christianity. These gods are often mentioned in Shakespeare's plays.
There was another tradition of drama in Western Europe. 'Mystery' plays based on Bible stories were performed on religious holidays in churches and market places. These were lively, often exciting and humorous plays, and they may well have helped to fire Shakespeare's imagination and point him towards his career as a playwright. Shakespeare, and the other playwrights of his time, also took stories from English and European history, and from novels, poems and plays by earlier writers.
In the sixteenth century, plays were first performed in the yards of inns (hotels) with a stage set up against a wall. Groups of actors used to travel round the country performing plays in inns and the houses of rich people.
The first building specially designed as a theatre was opened in London in 1576. The Globe Theatre was opened in 1599. Shakespeare's plays were performed here and in other London theatres such as the Swan and the Blackfriars Theatre.
MACBETH
Historical and theatrical background
Macbeth was written early in 1606, and the earliest recorded performance was in 1611 at the Globe Theatre, London. It is likely, however, that the play had been performed earlier than this.
It is one of the shortest of Shakespeare's plays. From the nineteenth century onwards, Macbeth has often been performed by companies as a special attraction when business was going badly. This is one of the reasons why actors consider it bad luck to quote from the play, or to mention it by name, especially inside the theatre - they always refer to it as 'the Scottish play'!
Shakespeare took the story from the Chronicles (1577), a history written mainly by Raphael Holinshed and known by his name, 'Holinshed'. He in turn had taken the story from the work of a Scottish historian called Hector Boyce, writing about fifty years earlier. Though Shakespeare develops the story in his own way, and invents a good deal, the central characters and events were closely based on actual history. King James I of England (who was also King James VI of Scotland), for example, was proud to count both Banquo and King Duncan among his ancestors.
The central theme of the play is the destruction caused when an ambitious man usurps power and undermines social and political order. In the process, moral and spiritual order are also seriously attacked, but in the end order is restored under a wise, strong and legitimate king. It is likely that Shakespeare wrote the play partly as a compliment to King James and as a celebration of that ordered rule which had very nearly been destroyed by the Gunpowder Plot.
Two difficulties which modem audiences sometimes have with this play concern the witches and the ghosts or apparitions, and these need some comment. In the case of the ghost of Banquo and the apparitions apparently conjured up by the witches, our difficulty need not be so great - if we do not believe in ghosts or visions, we can respond to these things as if they were hallucinations or delusions on Macbeth's part, caused by a guilty conscience or a vivid imagination. There are, however, people in the West who do believe in such phenomena, or who think that there might possibly be such things.
As far as witches are concerned, the position is more complicated. Belief in witchcraft is widely distributed in human society, past and present. Records of such beliefs go back to probably the prehistoric period, though some people (e.g. the Bushmen of the Kalahari Desert) do not have a belief in witch- craft. Generally witches are thought to be strange, abnormal people who use what they believe to be supernatural means in order to achieve some harmful, evil ends. Some societies, however, recognise 'white' witchcraft, the use of such powers for beneficial aims such as curing the sick. Witches are often blamed as the cause of things going wrong - e.g. for illnesses or untimely deaths, or the failure of crops.
Some people in Shakespeare's time thought that the beliefs about witches were simply superstitions. Others, like King James I himself, at first doubted but later appeared to be convinced that witches did have extraordinary and evil powers. He was very interested in the subject and wrote a book on it called Demonology (1597; Published in England 1603). Most people in those days, however, did believe in the evil power of witches, who were thought to be earthly representatives of the Prince of Evil. An Act of Parliament of 1604 made the practice of witchcraft an offence punishable by death. The campaign against witches was waged relentlessly, by Catholics and by Protestants, for centuries. It was not until the more secular philosophy of the modem world began to emerge from the late seventeenth century onwards that the European witch-craze died down. Many innocent women must have been killed over the centuries, however. There are still reports of traditional witchcraft practices and beliefs in Western societies in recent years.
Whatever we think of witchcraft, one thing is clear about Macbeth: Shakespeare does not put the blame for what happens on the witches. They have a keen interest and delight in encouraging human evil, but Shakespeare shows that evil is really in certain human beings themselves. Supernatural powers and their human agents can encourage this human evil to flourish, but they do not create it. The witches foretell the future - Macbeth, briefly, makes it.
Language and structure
Shakespeare telescopes the events of the play into what seems a short space of time, and the play has a very tight structure. We see Macbeth at the beginning and end of the play as a soldier - at the beginning he is a hero, loyal to the rightful king, and part of a system of order. At the end, however, he is a hated tyrant who has killed the rightful king, dispossessed his heir, killed others who would be in his way, and reduced the ordered kingdom to terror and anarchy. He is also, at the end, no longer part of a coherent society, but instead he is alone.
The first movement of the play is triggered by the prophecies of the witches - that Macbeth will be Thane of Glamis (as he is), Thane of Cawdor, and king hereafter, and that Banquo, though not becoming king himself, will be father to a line of longs. The prophecies add to what Macbeth has evidently already been thinking and help to impel him to the various actions of killing the king and having Banquo murdered. The second meeting with the witches also contains three prophecies - that Macbeth is to beware Macduff; that he should not fear anyone born of woman; and that he would be safe until Birnam Wood moves to Dunsinane. His reactions to the second set of prophecies lead to his downfall and death.
The witch scenes are therefore important in relating the two movements of the play, but the turning point of the plot is the banquet scene. Macbeth here briefly is able to act the part of king. The murder of Banquo should have made him secure, but ironically it is this which leads him to give himself away. Though Macbeth is able to gain control of himself eventually, it is too late, and though Lady Macbeth is still strong and determined, it is for the last time. There can be no looking back for him, and he determines that he has no choice but to go on killing.
It has been said that the play has some of the symbolic force of a morality play, and this is true. Yet the characters are not personifications of abstract virtues or vices, but living human beings, and sometimes very complex ones. Instead the symbolic force springs from the formal structure - what we have is a tight pattern of cause and effect, with every action leading to consequences which in turn have further results. The structure gives a sense of inevitability to the play, with nothing irrelevant and yet everything seeming natural in its place. Everything springs from the character of Macbeth himself and its impact, in action, upon those around him. The short scenes which occur from time to time, e.g. between Ross and the Old Man, or between the doctor and the gentlewoman, serve as a commentary on what has been happening, and enable us to see the events as part of a universal context.
The language of the play is particularly memorable for several related groups of images which powerfully help to achieve the presentation of the themes of the play. Especially noticeable are the following: images of clothing, particularly pointing to the difference between external appearance and the reality beneath, and sometimes implying that the clothes are too big for the wearer; images of bloodshed, and the attempts to wash away blood; images of sleep and sleeplessness; images of food and of banquets; images of disorder in the worlds of animals; images of health and disease.
The themes
The major themes of Macbeth are as follows: the sanctity of rightful kingship; the destructive nature of usurpation; the inwardly as well as outwardly destructive nature of evil (i.e. that it destroys the evildoer as well as his victims); the correspondence between order and disorder in the state, in nature, and in individuals; the justifiable killing of the usurper.
Summary of the plot
Macbeth and Banquo are generals in the army of Duncan, King of Scotland. They have just defeated an army of Norwegian invaders and Scottish rebels. They meet three witches, who greet Macbeth as Thane of Cawdor and 'king hereafter'. The witches tell Banquo that although he will not be king himself, he will be the father of many kings. The witches vanish, and news comes that Duncan has made Macbeth Thane of Cawdor, in place of the former Thane, who has proved to be a traitor.
Macbeth writes to tell Lady Macbeth of his adventures and the witches' prophecies about his future, and about the new title Duncan has given him. She starts to plan Duncan's death.
Duncan decides to spend the night at Macbeth's castle. Macbeth's own ambition, and the fact that the witches' prophecy came true, lead him to give in to his wife's persuasion and to kill the sleeping king. The king's sons, Malcolm and Donalbain, are suspected, and run away, and Macbeth is crowned king.
Macbeth determines to defeat the witches' prophecy concerning Banquo's children. He therefore tries to have Banquo and his son Fleance killed while they are out riding, but Fleance escapes.
The ghost of the murdered Banquo appears at Macbeth's banquet to haunt him, and he decides to consult the witches again. They tell him to beware of Macduff, Thane of Fife; that no one born of woman can harm him; and that he will never be defeated until Birnam Forest moves to Dunsinane. He therefore believes that fate is on his side. On learning that Macduff has gone to England, to raise an army to come back and fight him, Macbeth kills Lady Macduff and her children. Lady Macbeth goes mad and dies, and Macbeth is alone. The attacking army led by Malcolm and Macduff cut branches from the trees in Birnam Wood and use them as camouflage as they walk to Dunsinane - so that it looks as though the wood itself is moving, as the prophecy foretold. Macbeth goes to fight Macduff, who reveals that he was not born in the normal way but by Caesarean section (i.e. 'untimely ripped' from the womb) - thus the last prophecy comes true. Macduff kills Macbeth and Malcolm becomes King of Scotland. -
Do try to be considerate and keep your signature short and simple. It's netiquette.
-
Cash arr...
although yours is meaningful..
but hoh....really like reading a book like that...and its very tedious to read form the monitor leh...
so..pls....
if ont i want to faint again..
hehehee
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I don't know how you do what you do, i'm so in love with you, it just keeps getting better, i wanna spend the rest of my life, with you by my side, forever and ever. Every little thing that you do, baby i'm so in love with you -
copy and paste signature...
NO originality..
>smirk<
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~~EviL AngeL~~
and her power -- [Frozen Flames]
You can try to resist
Try to hide from my kiss
But you know but you know that you
Can't fight the moonlight -
Cash signature already can consider short. The worst one is that kung fu hero's signature. All words squeeze up together. See liao eyes also tired.
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If I knew it would be the last time that I'd see you fall asleep,
I would tuck you in more tightly and pray the Lord, your soul to keep.
If I knew it would be the last time that I see you walk out the door,
I would give you a hug and kiss and call you back for one more.
If I knew it would be the last time I'd hear your voice lifted up in praise,
I would video tape each action and word, so I could play them back day after day. -
they just need attention.
but people ignore their messages in the end.
:p
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I didn't come 10 million miles to turn back at the last 10 feet..... -
Cash has joined The Order of the Signature Lamer. We pledge to have the longest signature and be lamers forever!
PS: Cash is the lowest ranked though and cleans our asses for us.
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Being the Tale of Years for the Island and Port of Aerlinthe, which kneel before the Cerulean Throne of the Ancient and Glorious Seaborne Empire of Yalain.
RE 208: Shimena Keep constructed on the northeast islet. Shimena guarded the northern approaches to Ireth Lassel research colony from Pelagian sea-nomads.
RE 213: A larchess tree is planted within the walls of Shimena Keep.
RE 221: Hearing from former Shimena garrison troops of great riches on this island, Lord Gevran Loritane of Elancia visits aboard his sailing skyship Tinoriel. He discovers great mineral wealth, and magma flows of sufficient temperature to permit the forging of mana-alloy. The enchanters Eosonn and Auriam are crushed by a magma tube cave-in when the land quakes. Without the ability to levitate Tinoriel, the ship returns to Glystenae over sea.
RE 222: Loritane sends sixteen great ocean-galleons and two skyships to the island, carrying the supplies necessary to build a mining outpost. Lord Loritane and Lady Raina accompany the vessels in Tinoriel.
The navigation channel into the lagoon is dredged.
Reservoir dug to collect rainwater. All local water sources tainted with sulphur and ash. An Old Ring, buried under ash and ejecta, is found during the digging. It is left undisturbed, but considered a good omen.
The island is titled Aerlinthe by Lord Loritane, a name which came to him in a dream. The central volcano is known of old to be called Tenkarrdun, Dericost for "Stoic Blood." The smaller peaks to the northwest and northeast are found to have been named Cunara ("Steaming Heights") and Ernassen ("Land Reflected"), respectively. The lagoon is dubbed Raina's Harbor.
RE 223: Completion of the light-towers of Weretirae and Eretirae, on either side of the navigation channel.
RE 225: Tenkarrdun's forges return their first profit. Loritane and Raina return to Elancia. Lady Raina convinces Loritane to appoint master smith Hare Aralea as governor of Aerlinthe.
RE 230: His Most Dignified and Serene Majesty Emperor Kellin, seventh in the Line of Alaidain, dies. His son Delophon takes the Cerulean Throne, assuming the Imperial Name of Caerlin ("Lord of the Deep Waters").
RE 274: The Blessing of Aerlinthe. A gromnatross makes her aerie on the peaks of Cunara. She is named Aurlanaa by the people of the port.
RE 313: Expansion of the foundry; two new forges added.
RE 317: The outgassing of noxious fumes from Ernassen forces a two-month evacuation to Ireth Lassel.
RE 323: Battle of Shimena. Twenty Imperial chevairds and forty-four household troops of Loritane perish while holding at bay a raiding force of five hundred Pelagic sea-nomads, embarked in two dozen sailing vessels of war.
Battle of the Towers. Seeking revenge for the defeat at Shimena, the Pelagian band returns and attacks from the south. Mages under the direction of Aralea ascend the light-towers and pour fire down upon the decks of their ships. The Coral Golems used to keep the navigation channel clear rip the keels from their ships. The southern attack is repulsed, though sunken vessels block the channel for a month. A second landing to the west, near the reservoir, results in the looting and partial razing of the port. Over one hundred die, and many are taken captive by the sea-nomads.
RE 324: In response to the raids, Emperor Caerlin declares the port of Aerlinthe an Imperial anchorage and treasure port. Four war galleons and seven fast skysloops, for scouting and messenger duty, drop anchor in Raina's Harbor. They bring with them an additional hundred chevairds to garrison the island. Aerlinthe is acknowledged as one of the most important sources of pyreal in the Empire.
RE 329: The sailing platform-city of the sea-nomads that raided Aerlinthe in 323 is tracked and taken by the Imperial naval force. Most of the Aerlinthe captives are found enslaved in galley oarlocks.
RE 331: The Eaulinthe ("Star-Stone") is found in the deepest crevasses of Tenkarrdun. This large diamond contains a small amount of liquid magma, kept hot and brightly shining through unknown magical means.
RE 340: Raina's Harbor boils. A new fumarole opens at the bottom, heating the water to scalding temperatures. The Imperial ships are anchored at Shimena while golems dig a new land outlet for the gasses, then seal the fumarole.
RE 349: Memorial Stone erected in Shimena Keep, inscribed with the names of all who died in the Pelagic raids of 323.
RE 371: The forges begin to produce weapons designed by Lord Atlan of Knorr. Lord Loritane takes the finest axe, and has the Eaulinthe fixed upon its blade. With this weapon he joins the northern army at Planae.
Loritane disappears in the Dericost Marches, along with most of Atlan's army. Lady Raina assumes control of Loritane's house and holdings. Hare Aralea renews his oaths of fealty to the Lady in person, traveling to her castle in Glystenae via fast skyship.
Lady Raina announces she carries a child of Loritane.
RE 372: Raina gives birth to a daughter, whom she names Clari.
RE 388: Nesortania Province overrun by the forces of the Hopeslayer. Lady Raina takes Clari and her household, and flees to the Imperial Archipelago.
RE 392: The city of Elancia in Glystenae falls under shadow.
RE 426: Caerlin replaces the galleon Minaera, last of the original Imperial patrol squadron, with the new sailing frigate Reithyis.
RE 502: Prince Durglen Realaidain, son of the Emperor, announces that he will take the hand of Clari Loritane, Mistress of Aerlinthe, and walk by her side into darkness or dawn.
RE 507 Prince Durglen joins hands with Mistress Clari in the Iphvircae Cliffs Cathedral.
RE 567: A large colony of mulardil are discovered in the Naarcaerel Reef by the fisher-woman Julitaen, a poor resident of the harbor tempest floats. She is titled mistress of the mular-pearl harvest by Hare Aralea, and hires all the other residents of the floats.
RE 886: Ejan Aralae, son of Hare, succeeds his father as master smith and governor of Aerlinthe.
RE 893: Emperor Caerlin is brushed by Black Madness in battle, and becomes leprous with Ayai Heauviri.*
(* Translators note: Ayai is Empyrean for "burning." Heauviri, literally means "high-thought-wind." This may be the Yalain equivalent of "soul." Based on context, which suggest disease and decay, I would judge our closest translation of Ayai Heauviri to be "the Soulburn Plague." - Bretslef)
RE 895: Aurlanaa leaves her aerie on the peak of Cunara. She meets several other gromnatross south of Aerlinthe, and they ascend, disappearing into the heavens. No gromnatross are seen on Auberean for twenty-two years.
Severe lightning-storms and strange glows come over the southeast waters. The population is evacuated to the west.
Darkness falls upon the shores of Ireth Lassel. A vast reach of Black Madness and fifteen Thorns accompany the Hopeslayer, his generals, and their army.
Darkness defeated. The Hopeslayer is entrapped in the mage council's array. The explosive power released destroys the Jailne Lyceum, kills the entire council, and shatters the array into pieces. One piece lands on Aerlinthe, but is recovered before it can dig itself into the ground.
With the defeat of the Hopeslayer, the Rhethis Eipoth (Era of Lore) is concluded by decree of Emperor Caerlin. The Torethis Eipoth (Second Era of Lore) is declared.
TE 1: The population returns to Aerlinthe, and the forges are reopened. Raina returns to Elancia.
Elders from Ithaenc arrive to care for Aurlanaa's abandoned childer.
Hare Aralea and his wife Malestra return to their homeland of Elancia. Hare becomes one of Lady Raina's counselors.
TE 2: His Most Dignified and Serene Majesty Emperor Caerlin, eighth in the Line of Alaidain, dies from the Soulburn Plague after six months of insanity. He is 773 years old. His son Caerlin II ascends to the Cerulaean Throne, and Clari, Mistress of Elancia and Aerlinthe, becomes Empress of the Thousand Seas. Raina remains the Dowager Lady of Elancia and Aerlinthe.
TE 8: The older forges are replaced.
TE 11: A daughter, Alhallie, is born to Caerlin and Clari. A Festival Year is declared in Elancia and Aerlinthe.
TE 17: The Return of Grace. The gromnatross come down from the stars. Aurlanaa alights upon her aerie at Cunara. She looks into the eye of Kelderam, a ward of Ithaenc since her early 100's, and considered hopelessly mad. Kelderam is jauniril*, and lapses into unconsciousness. When she awakens, she weeps for a full day, and is afterwards restored in mind and spirit. In her waning years, Kelderam led the Adjanite Order, and was renowned for her wisdom and serenity.
(*Translator's note: By context, "jauniril" would seem to be a verb. I have never encountered this word before, however, and know not what it means. - Bretslef)
TE 101: A landquake blocks the navigation channel.
TE 218: Lady Raina dies in her sleep, at the age of 1013. Clari becomes Lady of Elancia and Aerlinthe, making her family's lands Imperial Provinces.
TE 275: The legendary traveling entertainer Surinna Thrasyl stops at Aerlinthe.
TE 333: The mutilated corpse of the missionary Lady Galaeral of Ithaenc is found off the north shore.
TE 334: Imperial Inquisitor Lady Alibec arrives to investigate the murder of Galaeral. She uncovers a small group of undead hiding in the bowels of the reservoir, and destroys them. The chamber in which they performed the deed is sealed. The origin and motives of the undead remain unresolved.
TE 413: Empress Clari dies in a boating accident at the age of 937. Princess Alhallie becomes Lady of Elancia and Aerlinthe.
TE 416: Catriae Tamanea's rogue fleet defeats the flotilla at Aerlinthe, and pillages the port. Over twelve million pyreal coins are looted.
TE 422: Piteous screams are heard from behind the door Inquisitor Alibec sealed in 334. It is forced open, but the room is empty, and the scene of Galaeral's murder remains as it was when the door was erected. Shrieks of pain and incomprehensible, mumbling chants are occasionally heard from the room, leading workers to whisper that the missionary's soul remains in torment at the place of her death.
TE: 428: Princess Alhallie visits Aerlinthe, while on her tour of the provinces. She gathers research for a planned travelogue.
TE 450: After the census, Emperor Caerlin announces that Tentael has a population of over one million, most under the age of 400. Aerlinthe's population is less than 100, but nearly 1000 golems work the forges at any time.
TE 463: Massive collapse of the Tenkarrdun forge tunnels during a landquake. Four workers are crushed, another sixteen trapped and suffocated. The entire lower quarter of the foundry is cut off. Shifting rock makes reopening the tunnels too risky, and Ejan decides to build a new forge works further up the mountain.
TE 464: The new forges are completed. Due to the distance between them and the magma flows, production is less than half of that before the collapse.
TE 477: Princess Alhallie joins hands with Lord Cashtal Ronain of Haebrous. Lord Cashtal's last name is changed to Realaidain.
TE 504: His Most Dignified and Serene Majesty Emperor Caerlin II, ninth in the Line of Alaidain, dies at the age of 1022 years. Alhallie ascends to the Cerulean Throne, and takes the Imperial Name of Cellaurai ("Consecrated by Starlight").
TE 513: The Great Northern Tempest. Mages hold off the worst of the storm for three days. The Naarcaerel Reef is ripped apart by storm-tides.
TE 622: A Skytower arrives at Shimena, and is used to patrol the northeast waters.
TE 664: Isin Aemil, child of Aerlinthe, becomes an admiral of the Imperial fleet.
TE 761: With the development of practical portal travel by Asheron, Empress Cellaurai declares a new Era has begun. The Torethis Eipoth is concluded, and the Hyrethis Eipoth (Third Era of Lore) begins.
HE 95: Adept Delacim arrives at Aerlinthe and opens fixed portals to Ithaenc, Haelan, Knorr, Nesortania, Elancia, Jalis, Aribel, Alastinae, Dernehale, Larchess, and the works at Seral Ipharsis and Lamihaar.
HE 142: Nali Athanas reforms the northern church.
HE 145: A new temple is built in Aerlinthe.
HE 232: Empress Cellauri disappears while on a tour of Haebrous, with the ultimate intention of holding a moot with the Nali and other high dignitaries of the reformed northern church at Aventin. The Haebrous report that her party attempted to ascend the peaks of the Venalben Range, where gromnatross are known to reside.
HE 233: After eighteen months of fruitless searching for Empress Cellauri, Cashtal Realaidain is declared Emperor. He takes the name Kellin II ("Righteous Lord").
HE 239: The Nali relocates from Aventin to Tentael at the invitation of Emperor Kellin.
HE 347: Fifty-six people of Aerlinthe answer the call of Nali Valind, and participate in the extirpation of the Adjanite heretics.
HE 348: The Rejection. Troops returning from Valind's desecration and sack of Ithaenc climb Cunara to seek Aurlanaa's blessing. The gromnatross slays them all on sight, and departs Aerlinthe, never to be seen again.
HE 459: Severe landquakes cause magma flows in the upper forge tunnels. Smiths remove to the port while golems effect repairs.
In the wake of the recent attacks on our honored gemstone armor smiths, my colleagues and I have embarked upon extensive investigations into the properties of shadows, crystal beasts, and gems. The weakening by repeated death of our three master smiths, while a terrible tragedy and an ill omen for all Dereth, has actually provided exciting new avenues of inquiry. The fused gems never cease to amaze us with their versatility and mystifying qualities.
Due to a precipitous loss in their skills, the master smiths are no longer able to invest as much of the fused gems' power in the armor suits they craft. More specifically, the gemstone armor's power, have suffered dramatically. My esteemed colleague Gondo Kanezo has bent his considerable mental prowess to an effort to restore the lost elemental strength. Thanks to my own research in the abstract realm of the armor's abstract qualities, we may have found a solution.
It all goes back to the legendary work of the Lady Maila, once the head of a great school of learning in the Empyrean civilization. Artifacts and writing point to Lady Maila as a sorceress and enchantress of great power and learning. We know she was part of the mage council that crafted the crystals, means of imprisoning the essence of Bael'Zharon and exiling him from our mortal realm. We also know from more recently unearthed evidence that Lady Maila was instrumental in the creation of the stones used to empower Atlan weapons.
Far be it from me to criticize a lady of great learning and accomplishment, but it seems that Lady Maila took some of the shortcuts which all of us involved in magical experimentation and creation are wont to use. It seems Lady Maila re-used many of the alchemical and magical techniques she used in the elemental stones' crafting when she and her council decided to craft great crystals to imprison Bael'Zharon. I will not fault the Lady Maila for this method. No doubt her ability to borrow from her previous work simplified the process of creating the crystal array.
Serendipitously enough, Lady Maila's work of convenience becomes quite a boon to our people, the inheritors of the war against the shadows. As any mage worth his reagents knows, sympathy and resonance is indispensable to proper and effective magical work. The fused gems, one half crystal essence, seem to have an affinity to the resonance of the elemental stones, crafted as they were by the same great mage. One can only hope that we sages and the magicians of Dereth will be able to leave as strong and enduring a legact as the honored Lady Maila.
This resonance remained undetected for so long because the fused gems sacrificed so much of their power to the strength of the armor. With the inert metal of the armor leeching away less of the gems' essence, the suits themselves become more compatible with the resonance of the greater elemental stones.
Gondo Kanezo has confirmed that the new suits of armor, while intrinsically less powerful that their previous incarnations, can be imbued with the strength of the elemental stones. The individual stones confer a greater resistance to their associated elements than the original suits of gemstone armor were ever able to provide, though it must be noted that drastic improvement comes at the price of increased vulnerability to the 'opposed' element.
The effect of the Atlan stones, however, are not solely beneficial. When the armor takes on the elemental properties of the stones, and even becomes physically, it becomes resistant to magical enhancement. Thus the armor becomes immune to the augmentation normally provided by Item magic. The elemental stones need to be removed from the pieces of armor before one is able to enchant them as normal.
I have yet to divinde the exact reason for the incompatibility of elemental armors and magic. I can only speculate that there are greater magical forces at work, resulting from the intricacies of Lady Maila's craft, than I, a newcomer to this world, am able to fully comprehend. One would hope that in the future, I will be able to solve the mystery of Lady Maila's creation.
Ben Ten was, they say, among the first of our people to arrive upon this island, in the days when the Olthoi still ran rampant. Some say Ben Ten was the first Sho to arrive. Whether man or woman, we do not even know for sure; we know only that Ben Ten was tall, thin of frame, and wore always a dark hood. Speaking softly, wielding a tachi of a quality that rivals even the mythical swords of the Dragon Temple, Ben Ten walked the land in search of the desperate who needed help. I know this because I was one of those rescued by Ben Ten.
As a child of only twelve summers, I was torn from my land and brought here, alone. As I wandered the plains, it happened that a pack of what I later learned to be reed sharks came upon me, and I remember fleeing toward an unfamiliar cluster of houses, screaming, sobbing, and knowing the terrible monsters would soon catch me. I saw a shadow come running from a house, and I saw the flash of a sword, but then I tripped and fell. As I lay cowering, I heard snarling and snapping and growling, and then a long silence.
At last I heard footsteps approach, and a soft voice - a voice neither deep nor high, neither obviously male or female - asked, "Are you all right?"
I looked up and saw a smiling face shadowed by a hood. When I said that I was unhurt, the person said, "There, in the building with the thatched roof, is a woman who will help you. Tell her that Ben Ten sent you."
I did not see Ben Ten for many years after that, but, as the years passed, I heard of Ben Ten's other deeds. Others have surely written of them better than I. The only other story I can offer of Ben Ten's bravery is the story of Yanshi, my town, the Town of the Boulder.
As more and more of us began to arrive in this land called Dereth, drawn by the same mysterious magic, it was quickly decided that our main city should be built at the mouth of the great river and be called Hebian-to. But I and some of my friends settled near the plains where Ben Ten had rescued me, almost within Aluvian territory. We had found a large boulder alone in the middle of a field, standing like a lone sovereign looking out over his land. Knowing we had found a divine symbol of protection and good fortune, we built a few houses around the boulder, and began to farm.
In those days tumeroks were more plentiful in Osteth, and it was not uncommon for travelers in the far north to report a tumerok attack. In the plains just south of lands held by the legendary Elysa Strathelar, however, we did not fear such creatures. Reed sharks were our main worry, but our simple weapons sufficed against those.
But one evening, as we settled into rest after a long day in the fields, we heard harsh cries that chilled our blood. A horde of tumeroks had come down from the north, with a vanguard of banderlings and drudge slaves. Somehow they had slipped through the Aluvian lands.
We hastily dispatched our fastest runner via portal to Hebian-to, to beg for warriors and weapons, and we fled into our houses, barred the doors, and fought the monsters as long as we could with arrows. We managed to kill all the drudges and banderlings, but a tumerok captain and his lieutenants still remained. They burned our houses and pursued us until we stood against the great boulder at the center of town, only our crude spears and swords between us and death. Yet our weapons were no match against the tumeroks' heavy shields and armor.
I know not how Ben Ten arrived, or how Ben Ten knew to come. I only know that I saw a familiar tall shadow arrive in the middle of the chaos. I saw a fine tachi gleaming in the torchlight, flashing as it cut through tumerok shields and armor and flesh. In silence did Ben Ten strike; in silence Ben Ten whirled, and slashed. I thought I saw Ben Ten's eyes once, beneath the hood; I thought them somehow haunted, yet kind. But perhaps I only dreamed it, for the battle raged fiercely. How could I have seen Ben Ten's face in the chaos of spears and swords and blood?
But before I fell over from exhaustion and loss of blood, I remember seeing Ben Ten standing upon the boulder, fighting alone against the towering tumerok captain: a scene worthy of any myth or legend, except I know it to be true. I know I did not dream it. It seemed to me that Ben Ten was the boulder itself, the protector of our town, of our people; a sturdy rock in the midst of desolation. I remember wondering if Ben Ten might be the Unicorn of compassion incarnate, or perhaps the Firebird: mayhap Ben Ten was Jojii himself. That is the last that I remember thinking.
When I awoke, the tumerok captain lay dead, crumpled beside the boulder, and guards from Hebian-to had arrived. While some stayed to tend to the wounded, the rest scoured the land, finishing off the last of the tumeroks who had hidden or fled. The guards had come as fast as they could, I learned, but by the time they had arrived, the tumerok force had already been largely destroyed.
I discovered that I had lost three of my good friends. This was long before resurrection came into existence, so mine was a permanent and devastating loss. But I am sure I would have lost many more friends - and my life - had Ben Ten not come. And where was Ben Ten? Others had seen Ben Ten fighting, too, but no one knew how Ben Ten had fared at the end. My only clue was the torn hood that I found upon the boulder, and several strands of long black hair still wet with blood.
I feared the worst, but later I heard rumors that Ben Ten had been seen elsewhere. In Mayoi, I heard, Ben Ten had appeared during the Battle of Confusion. Near Sawato, I heard, Ben Ten had rescued travelers from mosswarts in the swamp. And once, while traveling in Hebian-to, I heard it whispered that someone had seen Ben Ten's tachi, and had recognized it as the legendary magic sword of Koji. Thereafter, I heard new rumors that Ben Ten was actually Koji herself, sent to this new world by Jojii.
I don't know if any of those stories are true. I only tell of what I have seen. If Ben Ten lives today, surely he - or she - must be advancing in years, as I am now. But if you happen to be lost and in danger in these new lands of the Sho, perchance you might meet Ben Ten too.
Woe did come to the children of mighty Dericost. The Lords of This World, in their arrogance, were thrown down - Sarvien and his circle slain by the whelps of Yalain and Haebrous. The Kingdom crumbled, the Ice Throne was toppled by victorious barbarians. So did we, whose doom was wrought by the arrival of the Falatacot priestesses six thousand years ere, come to have our presence suffered in our own land.
Feared by the simple creatures who presumed to rule in our stead, we were forbidden to practice the crafts that had made our Lords mighty. We were turned out from our own ancient fortresses on the fastness of Gelid, and resettled in the rank grasslands of Yalain, among herdsmen as dull as their flocks. We were watched and mistrusted - blamed for everything that did not occur as those ignorant peasants thought should. As if we, the living, had had anything to do with the vile acts of the Lords! As if we had traffic with the Thing Ilservian roused!
They would hear none of this of course; our blood was that of the royal houses of Dericost, and that was guilt enough in their eyes.
Doomed by the cold that had driven the Falatacot south, shunned by our conquerors, we sought the blessing of another time of cold. Such things come in cycles. The southern barbarians may have forgotten, but the memory of Dericost was ancient of days. Does not the sun itself turn wan and pale every several millennia?
We only needed to wait until the next Great Frost, and then our oppressors would burn from wind-whipped ice. If we prepared properly, we should outlast them, and return in glory to high Gelid, which stands mighty over the plains.
It was foretold by the priestesses that the Fourth Sending would begin in a city of Dericost called Frore, which means "Black Frost." No such city existed during the 6000 years of the Kingdom. So it was decided that we should make for ourselves a city by that name; being blood of the noble houses, our city would be of Dericost.
Debate raged among the brethren - when should Frore be built, and where? Was it not presumptuous - dangerous - to attempt to fulfill such a prophesy? The prognostications of the Falatacot witches always had hidden barbs.
As we debated, our oppressors blamed us again for a thing which was not our doing. One of the Old Lords was found in hiding, in the farthest reaches of Haebrous. The Burning Time began, and the sons and daughters of Old Dericost were put to fire and sword for the errors of their grandsires. It was decided that we could endure no more.
Even as our people were subjected to cruel tortures at the hands of the Yalain, two brave souls exacted our revenge against the Grand Inquisitor, who oversaw the persecutions against us.
Thus the Burning Time ended, but the barbarians looked at us with renewed fear. Peasants again made the Gesture of Shunning as we walked among them, wrapped with the cool shadows of our robes, and praying only for isolation and deliverance from the ignorant savages.
It was then decided that we should escape our enforced exile, and begin again in a new place. The Work must begin. But, where should we go? The Council of Three held fierce debate, but in the end Blessed Fenngar's suggestion won favor; Killiakta, Isle of Woe.
So did we enjoin our meager wealth, and covertly book passage on ships headed to the isle. All at once, we left the squalid cities of the south, and met with sea-captains in hidden coves along the shore. Our convoy, six ships strong, met off the Rock of Sennaj, where the slate-grey sea endlessly beats itself into a useless froth.
We sailed northwest for uncounted leagues. One cold blue twilight, the Great Light of the Yalain mariners was seen over the horizon. We knew then that we had reached the southeast of Killiakta. As the moons crept up the dew-dappled spider-strands of stars, we ordered the captains to steer north.
Our convoy rounded the shoulder of Ifistra, taking care to avoid the patrols from the Yalain port at Aerlinthe. Unmolested, we landed on the northern shore, where the peaks of Ifisveraqu meet the sea. It was here that Blessed Ferundi turned to the ship captains, thanked them for a safe journey, and signaled that we should begin.
As the moons stood a placid watch, the shrieks of sailors drowned out the crush and roar of the surf. Though we had not used them for many years, the arts of the Lords were well known to us in lore. So did we use the crews' blood and ash and bone, entrails and meat, for our conversion. A ghastly business it was, but the Work needed to be done. As the sun's first rays shone through the frigid north shore fog, we fired the charnel-house ships, and watched until they had burned to the waterline. No vessel or man passed as we waited, becoming used to our new forms.
Once certain no trace would be left of us, we began the trek south, into the mountains. How can we tell of that endless march into wind and snow? It was like coming home. Each gust, curling clouds of fine powder off the ground, cheered us. Truly, this was the next best thing to old, blessed Gelid!
At the direction of the Council, we began to seek our home. Some, under Blessed Ferundi, explored the peaks to the east, but this proved too close to the Aerlinthe. This party was lucky to escape detection when a party of Yalain's so-called mages suddenly emerged from a shelter at the base of one of the greater peaks. Others, under Blessed Fenngar, trekked west, but the height of the peaks there were found lacking, and the area too easily approached.
A third group, under Blessed Frisander, searched the mighty peaks of old Velacixque, "Blood-Heart" to the Falatacot. Alas, the covetous Yalain were present in large numbers, forging coins of magical alloy in the depths of the mountain. Turning back north, they were halted by a call.
There before them stood Lord Rytheran of Menilesh, who had commanded our forefathers before the fall of the Ice Throne. He now amused himself as an academy master for the barbarians, teaching the barest shreds of magic to the dullard children of Yalain.
"Ho," said he. "Declare yourselves! Be ye Winds from Darkness or Lords of the World?"
"Neither," spake Blessed Frisander. "We are our own, come from exile in the southlands. We seek only to be left in peace, until we may return to the Plateau of Gelid."
"You are of our kind," spake Rytheran. "You must declare for one or another, lest ye wish to be seen by both as a threat. I ask again: Winds from Darkness or Lords of the World?"
"We forsake ye!" cried a formidable young mage, Frisirth by name. "Your games are your own, and we want none of it. For millennia you have played here, ignoring the suffering of your kin as you scheme. Get away now, or ye shall be blistered by all the power of our arts!"
Rytheran's face darkened, and he turned to his retainers. Before he could speak a word, however, Frisirth loosed a powerful blow against him, nearly destroying the Old Lord where he stood. At this, Rytheran's retainers charged the group, while he himself cast one of Facill's plane-slant spells, and retreated back into his lair. The retainers were weak, and Blessed Frisander's group quickly drained the life from them.
The Council met again in the northern reaches of the Ifisveraqu shortly after, and agreed that we would need to build in that area to be safe from enemies old and new. So, on a small, windy peak overlooking green valleys, we moved underground. Natural caves were expanded and restructured, and, at long last, construction of Great Frore began.
4th of Frostfell, 13th Year of Exile
Today a most curious thing occured. Asjan and I were discussing worker productivity when there was a soft knock at the door. Upon opening it, a violet cloaked figure wearing a mask floated - floated! - in the air before us. Asjan gasped and froze. I asked the creature if I could help it, reasoning that since it knocked politely, in our fashion, it must have intellect. The Thing introduced itself as "Lord Sarvaen", a noble of Arwic, and offered me a business proposition. I asked what it had in mind.
"Sarvaen" floated in the room, the ragged trailings of its cloak fluttering, and explained that it had need for the unique crystals I had discovered in the mountains. Its voice was... Ah, but I lack the words. Deep it was, and oddly cadenced. It was beyond question not a man's voice and sounded as if it came through a tunnel, or from the grave. Straight-faced, I asked what it offered in turn. At this, one violet-draped "arm" rose and placed a gem upon the table. I did not see its hand for the folds of the cloak.
It was a ruby; large, flawless, and more finely cut than any stone I have ever seen. I have not the words to do justice to this amazing artifact.
Exchanging raw crystal of undetermined worth for such incredible craftmanship seemed like a sound decision, so I offered to draw up a contract. "Sarvaen's" cloak rippled, as if a swarm of insects were beating against the interior, and it said that true men preferred to do business without records.
At this, Asjan's nerve snapped, and he ran through the room shrieking hysterically. The Thing turned to mark his passage, and I believe I saw a flash of violet-blue light from behind the corner of its bizarre mask.
The deal, fortunately, was quickly agreed upon, and "Servaen" left a small pile of jewels behind, as a token of its good faith. I calculate their worth to be in excess of 100,000 Pyreal.
I do not trust this Thing by any account. But one cannot argue with the profit - which is, after all, why I am in this hellish place!
7th Frostfell
Asjan has disappeared. A badly written note, supposedly from him, was found, saying that he went home to Qalaba'r. I know the Thing did it. It still believes that I believe it is a man, and it must remain so improbably ignorant.
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The second half of this journal is found on Lord Cambarth in Mount Lethe.
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22nd of Seedsow, 15th Year of Exile
The deal with Sarvaen continues to be most profitable. Today I received three chests of his peerlessly wrought sapphires. Best of all, he remains ignorant of the Pool's existence. What a sending of the Hope Bringer! Money from Saervaen, money from the desperate who hear of the Pool's remarkable ability. Brelax, that impossible idiot, blithely said to Sarvaen today that, "it does not matter that we have never seen your face." Cursed Fool! I beat him soundly.
Brelax and I today finished work on our Lord's Altar. Such a beauteous thing! After so long hidden away in that lost crypt we found, the words of the Hope Bringer are once again worshipped openly, in the places where men walk. Most of the guards have joined us in celebration. The miners must remain ignorant, for now. They work hard, but I would not trust them all with this freedom, this new-found feeling of strength and vulnerability.
Blast. Again, the mountain quakes. It has been doing so since Sarvaen left this afternoon. I hope it does not interfere with our next delivery.
So who is this, that wishes to write down my tale of the dark days of when we were enslaved to the Olthoi? A historian? To make sure none of it is lost? A noble goal, though I should hope that, with only twenty years' history, there isn't much to lose yet. All right, then, I will speak slowly. You take care to write what I say without error. See that you miss nothing.
My first memory is of stirring the pots. Big, stone-like vats that came up to my chin at the time. Soup pots, my mother called them, and it took me years of normal village life to come to think of simmering meat and vegetables as soup, instead of those grey-green vats of liquid stench. At least, I am told the soup pots smelled horrible. I myself cannot smell very well; I grew up in the midst of too much that smelled of Olthoi. Even now I can scarce tell you whether a fire burns nearby, or if the bread is scorched; neither can I smell the fields in flower.
So, then, soup pots were those containers of gruel that Olthoi would take to their grubs; the grubs, which we called white worms, would bathe in and consume it. I am sure you have heard this from other old-timers already. I didn't actually see very much of this, but I was told about it by braver and older souls who had managed to snatch quick glimpses.
I grew up stirring soup pots with rounded long stirring sticks. You see, if you left the gruel sit too long, it would grow a thick skin on top, which would not dissolve again. And if you left it far too long, it would grow fuzzy and turn strange colors - or so they said. So you had to watch carefully and stir often. For while the Olthoi tolerated some laziness, any failures were met with instant reprisal.
I remember seeing a woman who had fallen asleep beside her soup pot; something in the brew must have alerted the Olthoi, for they came swarming in with their claws swinging, and all I remember from there is a lot of blood. Such scenes were common, especially since we were so often exhausted.
Yes, the Olthoi had no reason to treat us well, for many of us were still arriving into this world. We were an endless supply of labor for them. Some have questioned us, saying we could not have done so much work for a creature that cannot speak to us or order us about. Yet, I tell you, we learned. And once a few of us had learned what to do to please our masters, we quickly taught it to the newcomers, lest they be killed immediately.
Of course, many newcomers still tried to fight, and they met a quick and bloody end. And any bodies were added to the soup pots. The only fortunate thing amidst all of this is that the Olthoi had no taste for fresh meat itself, despite rumors to the contrary. Thus we were spared becoming like cattle. Instead, we were slaves. Thus we were like men enslaved by monstrous ants. You have probably heard that before, too. The irony is apparently worse for those who remember our homelands clearly. My mother, after her freeing, could no longer abide the sight of ants.
She delighted to step on them, especially the big black ones, to spread their innards across the ground and to watch their legs and mandibles twitch helplessly and grow slowly more feeble.
Oh, of course you would wish to know about how we were freed. I must have been about five when Elysa Strathelar and Thorsten Cragstone finally brought us freedom. There had been rumors of a revolt for some time; I remember the adults murmuring about it amongst themselves. Oh yes, we could talk; it was a blessing that the Olthoi could not understand human speech, and did nothing to stop it unless it grew too loud.
But anyway, despite the rumors, news from outside was hard to come by, and the revolt itself must have taken many by surprise. I clearly recall the cheers and the screams when first the fighting reached us, when we first saw the fallen corpses of Olthoi and men together. I remember a woman's voice shouting above the battle, exhorting the able-bodied to take up whatever weapons we could find and to stand against the Olthoi masters. I think it was the voice of Elysa Strathelar herself.
And I also remember how there were some men and women dressed in gleaming armor, and wielding blades that glowed with magic. Whence those came from, I myself do not know, but I am sure you have heard rumors enough about that.
My mother immediately joined the revolt. She snatched up a dagger from a fallen man and tied it to her stirring stick. I followed her through some long corridors until we came to a vast lake of gruel - or so it seemed to me - and I remember how she slit open every white worm she could reach, piercing them through and shredding them apart while she laughed and cried at the same time. Then she left me in the care of an older child, and she went running after the others.
She later told me that she reached the deepest chamber of the Olthoi nest, where Elysa Strathelar and Thorsten Cragstone battled the giant Queen of the Olthoi. I have wished many times since that I could have seen that battle, but I do know I am glad I did not see the terrible and final blow that struck Thorsten Cragstone. That I am glad to have missed, and I wish it had never happened. But I did hear they fought valiantly, to make High King Pwyll himself proud.
Rhethis Eipoth 371
To Maila, Mistress of the Lyceum of Knorr
We fear that unpleasant news provokes Us to send thee this missive, Lady.
As thee know, We were compelled to send forth thy husband, the honored Lord Atlan of Knorr, to Our mainland realms of Nesortania and Glystaene, there to deal with certain disturbing events which vex Our citizens in the north. We have been receiving regular reports from the field, as We are aware that thee have been receiving reports of a more personal nature. These dispatches ceased without explanation four weeks ago.
This very morning We did entertain at Our court a young woman in shocking condition, who bore Us troubling news. This girl was known to Us as Ihdare Kelderam, squire to thy Lord Atlan. She was bloodied and soiled, and nearly mad with a dark fear which seemed to possess her entirely. She did come before Our august throne atremble, there to tell a tale which We would think unbelievable, were it not for the reports which brought thy husband to the north.
She did say that on the fifty-second day of the march, Lord Atlan's army entered the Valley of Tresimaen, in the former lands of Dericost. Upon ascending the heights, a most notable phenomenon was witnessed by the assembled host. The entire valley floor, from the town of Cannthalo in the northeast to the peak of Zemal in the southwest, was enfolded in a darkness most unnatural. Though the sun shone but slightly past its apex, Tresimaen seemed to cup shadow as if it were water.
Only a few tall trees could be seen rising clear of the pitch, from which angry whispers seemed to issue forth. At this spectacle, the host became unnerved. Atlan bade the army march back out of the valley, to make camp on the plain below. There he set a strong watch and lit bonfires.
Squire Kelderam's tale became disjointed at this point, We regret to say. As the night progressed, she claims the moons and stars faded and went out. By the time Alb'arel was to have risen, the watchfires on the northern perimeter began to struggle and die, as if damped by an unseen hand. He claims that insubstantial patches of darkness, like black fog, flowed through the camp. The woman described it to Us as "a mist which ate light."
Bleak laughter and whispering could be heard from all quarters. Atlan roused the chevairds and soldiers of the army at once, with cries that they were besieged. Yet, no enemy could be seen.
Kelderam then tells Us that the black mist did coalesce before Lord Atlan. The torso of a man, trailing off into insubstantiality at the waist, formed. A cluster of smaller forms, solid and giggling like mad children, stepped out of the roiling darkness behind it. These appeared as full-bodied boys and girls. The large being did point to Atlan, and say something in a language Kelderam did not recognize. Thereupon the small forms rushed to attack thy husband with fists and feet, and the Lord was obliged to defend himself with the sword Rez'arel.
The squire saith that Atlan smote all sent against him, as the army was cut down around him. Screams were heard, and men and women disappeared in scores, nought to be seen again. Only Atlan held fast, the fiery light of Rez'arel holding the shadows at bay. Kelderam stayed by thy Lord's side for some time, I gather, until a hoarse roar was heard in the unnatural dark.
At this the girl broke down entirely at Our feet, and could only scream of a black winged form, whose horrible eyes drove her to flee in terror. Lady Maila, We are saddened to admit that Lord Atlan's fate seems bleak.
There is a darkness in this girl's mind, Lady. It is not within the power of a sovereign to order it out. Therefore, We have commended her to the care of the Elders of the great cathedral on far Ithaenc. We have sent lone riders north to investigate further, in the hope that one or two may evade notice where a legion did not.
We know of but one survivor of almost twenty thousands. This is an unnatural magic, of a sort not seen since Our ancestors resisted the vile intentions of old Dericost. Our entire northern army has disappeared into the night. This distresses Us mightily. Rest assured We will do all in Our power to avenge the loss of Atlan, who was Our friend, cousin, and most trusted captain.
As ever, We remain at your disposal. If We may be of any comfort to thy Ladyship, do not hesitate to seek Us.
Yours in sympathy,
Caerlin, Emperor of Yalain
Being the Tale of Years for the Island and Port of Aerlinthe, which kneel before the Cerulean Throne of the Ancient and Glorious Seaborne Empire of Yalain.
RE 208: Shimena Keep constructed on the northeast islet. Shimena guarded the northern approaches to Ireth Lassel research colony from Pelagian sea-nomads.
RE 213: A larchess tree is planted within the walls of Shimena Keep.
RE 221: Hearing from former Shimena garrison troops of great riches on this island, Lord Gevran Loritane of Elancia visits aboard his sailing skyship Tinoriel. He discovers great mineral wealth, and magma flows of sufficient temperature to permit the forging of mana-alloy. The enchanters Eosonn and Auriam are crushed by a magma tube cave-in when the land quakes. Without the ability to levitate Tinoriel, the ship returns to Glystenae over sea.
RE 222: Loritane sends sixteen great ocean-galleons and two skyships to the island, carrying the supplies necessary to build a mining outpost. Lord Loritane and Lady Raina accompany the vessels in Tinoriel.
The navigation channel into the lagoon is dredged.
Reservoir dug to collect rainwater. All local water sources tainted with sulphur and ash. An Old Ring, buried under ash and ejecta, is found during the digging. It is left undisturbed, but considered a good omen.
The island is titled Aerlinthe by Lord Loritane, a name which came to him in a dream. The central volcano is known of old to be called Tenkarrdun, Dericost for "Stoic Blood." The smaller peaks to the northwest and northeast are found to have been named Cunara ("Steaming Heights") and Ernassen ("Land Reflected"), respectively. The lagoon is dubbed Raina's Harbor.
RE 223: Completion of the light-towers of Weretirae and Eretirae, on either side of the navigation channel.
RE 225: Tenkarrdun's forges return their first profit. Loritane and Raina return to Elancia. Lady Raina convinces Loritane to appoint master smith Hare Aralea as governor of Aerlinthe.
RE 230: His Most Dignified and Serene Majesty Emperor Kellin, seventh in the Line of Alaidain, dies. His son Delophon takes the Cerulean Throne, assuming the Imperial Name of Caerlin ("Lord of the Deep Waters").
RE 274: The Blessing of Aerlinthe. A gromnatross makes her aerie on the peaks of Cunara. She is named Aurlanaa by the people of the port.
RE 313: Expansion of the foundry; two new forges added.
RE 317: The outgassing of noxious fumes from Ernassen forces a two-month evacuation to Ireth Lassel.
RE 323: Battle of Shimena. Twenty Imperial chevairds and forty-four household troops of Loritane perish while holding at bay a raiding force of five hundred Pelagic sea-nomads, embarked in two dozen sailing vessels of war.
Battle of the Towers. Seeking revenge for the defeat at Shimena, the Pelagian band returns and attacks from the south. Mages under the direction of Aralea ascend the light-towers and pour fire down upon the decks of their ships. The Coral Golems used to keep the navigation channel clear rip the keels from their ships. The southern attack is repulsed, though sunken vessels block the channel for a month. A second landing to the west, near the reservoir, results in the looting and partial razing of the port. Over one hundred die, and many are taken captive by the sea-nomads.
RE 324: In response to the raids, Emperor Caerlin declares the port of Aerlinthe an Imperial anchorage and treasure port. Four war galleons and seven fast skysloops, for scouting and messenger duty, drop anchor in Raina's Harbor. They bring with them an additional hundred chevairds to garrison the island. Aerlinthe is acknowledged as one of the most important sources of pyreal in the Empire.
RE 329: The sailing platform-city of the sea-nomads that raided Aerlinthe in 323 is tracked and taken by the Imperial naval force. Most of the Aerlinthe captives are found enslaved in galley oarlocks.
RE 331: The Eaulinthe ("Star-Stone") is found in the deepest crevasses of Tenkarrdun. This large diamond contains a small amount of liquid magma, kept hot and brightly shining through unknown magical means.
RE 340: Raina's Harbor boils. A new fumarole opens at the bottom, heating the water to scalding temperatures. The Imperial ships are anchored at Shimena while golems dig a new land outlet for the gasses, then seal the fumarole.
RE 349: Memorial Stone erected in Shimena Keep, inscribed with the names of all who died in the Pelagic raids of 323.
RE 371: The forges begin to produce weapons designed by Lord Atlan of Knorr. Lord Loritane takes the finest axe, and has the Eaulinthe fixed upon its blade. With this weapon he joins the northern army at Planae.
Loritane disappears in the Dericost Marches, along with most of Atlan's army. Lady Raina assumes control of Loritane's house and holdings. Hare Aralea renews his oaths of fealty to the Lady in person, traveling to her castle in Glystenae via fast skyship.
Lady Raina announces she carries a child of Loritane.
RE 372: Raina gives birth to a daughter, whom she names Clari.
RE 388: Nesortania Province overrun by the forces of the Hopeslayer. Lady Raina takes Clari and her household, and flees to the Imperial Archipelago.
RE 392: The city of Elancia in Glystenae falls under shadow.
RE 426: Caerlin replaces the galleon Minaera, last of the original Imperial patrol squadron, with the new sailing frigate Reithyis.
RE 502: Prince Durglen Realaidain, son of the Emperor, announces that he will take the hand of Clari Loritane, Mistress of Aerlinthe, and walk by her side into darkness or dawn.
RE 507 Prince Durglen joins hands with Mistress Clari in the Iphvircae Cliffs Cathedral.
RE 567: A large colony of mulardil are discovered in the Naarcaerel Reef by the fisher-woman Julitaen, a poor resident of the harbor tempest floats. She is titled mistress of the mular-pearl harvest by Hare Aralea, and hires all the other residents of the floats.
RE 886: Ejan Aralae, son of Hare, succeeds his father as master smith and governor of Aerlinthe.
RE 893: Emperor Caerlin is brushed by Black Madness in battle, and becomes leprous with Ayai Heauviri.*
(* Translators note: Ayai is Empyrean for "burning." Heauviri, literally means "high-thought-wind." This may be the Yalain equivalent of "soul." Based on context, which suggest disease and decay, I would judge our closest translation of Ayai Heauviri to be "the Soulburn Plague." - Bretslef)
RE 895: Aurlanaa leaves her aerie on the peak of Cunara. She meets several other gromnatross south of Aerlinthe, and they ascend, disappearing into the heavens. No gromnatross are seen on Auberean for twenty-two years.
Severe lightning-storms and strange glows come over the southeast waters. The population is evacuated to the west.
Darkness falls upon the shores of Ireth Lassel. A vast reach of Black Madness and fifteen Thorns accompany the Hopeslayer, his generals, and their army.
Darkness defeated. The Hopeslayer is entrapped in the mage council's array. The explosive power released destroys the Jailne Lyceum, kills the entire council, and shatters the array into pieces. One piece lands on Aerlinthe, but is recovered before it can dig itself into the ground.
With the defeat of the Hopeslayer, the Rhethis Eipoth (Era of Lore) is concluded by decree of Emperor Caerlin. The Torethis Eipoth (Second Era of Lore) is declared.
TE 1: The population returns to Aerlinthe, and the forges are reopened. Raina returns to Elancia.
Elders from Ithaenc arrive to care for Aurlanaa's abandoned childer.
Hare Aralea and his wife Malestra return to their homeland of Elancia. Hare becomes one of Lady Raina's counselors.
TE 2: His Most Dignified and Serene Majesty Emperor Caerlin, eighth in the Line of Alaidain, dies from the Soulburn Plague after six months of insanity. He is 773 years old. His son Caerlin II ascends to the Cerulaean Throne, and Clari, Mistress of Elancia and Aerlinthe, becomes Empress of the Thousand Seas. Raina remains the Dowager Lady of Elancia and Aerlinthe.
TE 8: The older forges are replaced.
TE 11: A daughter, Alhallie, is born to Caerlin and Clari. A Festival Year is declared in Elancia and Aerlinthe.
TE 17: The Return of Grace. The gromnatross come down from the stars. Aurlanaa alights upon her aerie at Cunara. She looks into the eye of Kelderam, a ward of Ithaenc since her early 100's, and considered hopelessly mad. Kelderam is jauniril*, and lapses into unconsciousness. When she awakens, she weeps for a full day, and is afterwards restored in mind and spirit. In her waning years, Kelderam led the Adjanite Order, and was renowned for her wisdom and serenity.
(*Translator's note: By context, "jauniril" would seem to be a verb. I have never encountered this word before, however, and know not what it means. - Bretslef)
TE 101: A landquake blocks the navigation channel.
TE 218: Lady Raina dies in her sleep, at the age of 1013. Clari becomes Lady of Elancia and Aerlinthe, making her family's lands Imperial Provinces.
TE 275: The legendary traveling entertainer Surinna Thrasyl stops at Aerlinthe.
TE 333: The mutilated corpse of the missionary Lady Galaeral of Ithaenc is found off the north shore.
TE 334: Imperial Inquisitor Lady Alibec arrives to investigate the murder of Galaeral. She uncovers a small group of undead hiding in the bowels of the reservoir, and destroys them. The chamber in which they performed the deed is sealed. The origin and motives of the undead remain unresolved.
TE 413: Empress Clari dies in a boating accident at the age of 937. Princess Alhallie becomes Lady of Elancia and Aerlinthe.
TE 416: Catriae Tamanea's rogue fleet defeats the flotilla at Aerlinthe, and pillages the port. Over twelve million pyreal coins are looted.
TE 422: Piteous screams are heard from behind the door Inquisitor Alibec sealed in 334. It is forced open, but the room is empty, and the scene of Galaeral's murder remains as it was when the door was erected. Shrieks of pain and incomprehensible, mumbling chants are occasionally heard from the room, leading workers to whisper that the missionary's soul remains in torment at the place of her death.
TE: 428: Princess Alhallie visits Aerlinthe, while on her tour of the provinces. She gathers research for a planned travelogue.
TE 450: After the census, Emperor Caerlin announces that Tentael has a population of over one million, most under the age of 400. Aerlinthe's population is less than 100, but nearly 1000 golems work the forges at any time.
TE 463: Massive collapse of the Tenkarrdun forge tunnels during a landquake. Four workers are crushed, another sixteen trapped and suffocated. The entire lower quarter of the foundry is cut off. Shifting rock makes reopening the tunnels too risky, and Ejan decides to build a new forge works further up the mountain.
TE 464: The new forges are completed. Due to the distance between them and the magma flows, production is less than half of that before the collapse.
TE 477: Princess Alhallie joins hands with Lord Cashtal Ronain of Haebrous. Lord Cashtal's last name is changed to Realaidain.
TE 504: His Most Dignified and Serene Majesty Emperor Caerlin II, ninth in the Line of Alaidain, dies at the age of 1022 years. Alhallie ascends to the Cerulean Throne, and takes the Imperial Name of Cellaurai ("Consecrated by Starlight").
TE 513: The Great Northern Tempest. Mages hold off the worst of the storm for three days. The Naarcaerel Reef is ripped apart by storm-tides.
TE 622: A Skytower arrives at Shimena, and is used to patrol the northeast waters.
TE 664: Isin Aemil, child of Aerlinthe, becomes an admiral of the Imperial fleet.
TE 761: With the development of practical portal travel by Asheron, Empress Cellaurai declares a new Era has begun. The Torethis Eipoth is concluded, and the Hyrethis Eipoth (Third Era of Lore) begins.
HE 95: Adept Delacim arrives at Aerlinthe and opens fixed portals to Ithaenc, Haelan, Knorr, Nesortania, Elancia, Jalis, Aribel, Alastinae, Dernehale, Larchess, and the works at Seral Ipharsis and Lamihaar.
HE 142: Nali Athanas reforms the northern church.
HE 145: A new temple is built in Aerlinthe.
HE 232: Empress Cellauri disappears while on a tour of Haebrous, with the ultimate intention of holding a moot with the Nali and other high dignitaries of the reformed northern church at Aventin. The Haebrous report that her party attempted to ascend the peaks of the Venalben Range, where gromnatross are known to reside.
HE 233: After eighteen months of fruitless searching for Empress Cellauri, Cashtal Realaidain is declared Emperor. He takes the name Kellin II ("Righteous Lord").
HE 239: The Nali relocates from Aventin to Tentael at the invitation of Emperor Kellin.
HE 347: Fifty-six people of Aerlinthe answer the call of Nali Valind, and participate in the extirpation of the Adjanite heretics.
HE 348: The Rejection. Troops returning from Valind's desecration and sack of Ithaenc climb Cunara to seek Aurlanaa's blessing. The gromnatross slays them all on sight, and departs Aerlinthe, never to be seen again.
HE 459: Severe landquakes cause magma flows in the upper forge tunnels. Smiths remove to the port while golems effect repairs.
In the wake of the recent attacks on our honored gemstone armor smiths, my colleagues and I have embarked upon extensive investigations into the properties of shadows, crystal beasts, and gems. The weakening by repeated death of our three master smiths, while a terrible tragedy and an ill omen for all Dereth, has actually provided exciting new avenues of inquiry. The fused gems never cease to amaze us with their versatility and mystifying qualities.
Due to a precipitous loss in their skills, the master smiths are no longer able to invest as much of the fused gems' power in the armor suits they craft. More specifically, the gemstone armor's power, have suffered dramatically. My esteemed colleague Gondo Kanezo has bent his considerable mental prowess to an effort to restore the lost elemental strength. Thanks to my own research in the abstract realm of the armor's abstract qualities, we may have found a solution.
It all goes back to the legendary work of the Lady Maila, once the head of a great school of learning in the Empyrean civilization. Artifacts and writing point to Lady Maila as a sorceress and enchantress of great power and learning. We know she was part of the mage council that crafted the crystals, means of imprisoning the essence of Bael'Zharon and exiling him from our mortal realm. We also know from more recently unearthed evidence that Lady Maila was instrumental in the creation of the stones used to empower Atlan weapons.
Far be it from me to criticize a lady of great learning and accomplishment, but it seems that Lady Maila took some of the shortcuts which all of us involved in magical experimentation and creation are wont to use. It seems Lady Maila re-used many of the alchemical and magical techniques she used in the elemental stones' crafting when she and her council decided to craft great crystals to imprison Bael'Zharon. I will not fault the Lady Maila for this method. No doubt her ability to borrow from her previous work simplified the process of creating the crystal array.
Serendipitously enough, Lady Maila's work of convenience becomes quite a boon to our people, the inheritors of the war against the shadows. As any mage worth his reagents knows, sympathy and resonance is indispensable to proper and effective magical work. The fused gems, one half crystal essence, seem to have an affinity to the resonance of the elemental stones, crafted as they were by the same great mage. One can only hope that we sages and the magicians of Dereth will be able to leave as strong and enduring a legact as the honored Lady Maila.
This resonance remained undetected for so long because the fused gems sacrificed so much of their power to the strength of the armor. With the inert metal of the armor leeching away less of the gems' essence, the suits themselves become more compatible with the resonance of the greater elemental stones.
Gondo Kanezo has confirmed that the new suits of armor, while intrinsically less powerful that their previous incarnations, can be imbued with the strength of the elemental stones. The individual stones confer a greater resistance to their associated elements than the original suits of gemstone armor were ever able to provide, though it must be noted that drastic improvement comes at the price of increased vulnerability to the 'opposed' element.
The effect of the Atlan stones, however, are not solely beneficial. When the armor takes on the elemental properties of the stones, and even becomes physically, it becomes resistant to magical enhancement. Thus the armor becomes immune to the augmentation normally provided by Item magic. The elemental stones need to be removed from the pieces of armor before one is able to enchant them as normal.
I have yet to divinde the exact reason for the incompatibility of elemental armors and magic. I can only speculate that there are greater magical forces at work, resulting from the intricacies of Lady Maila's craft, than I, a newcomer to this world, am able to fully comprehend. One would hope that in the future, I will be able to solve the mystery of Lady Maila's creation.
Ben Ten was, they say, among the first of our people to arrive upon this island, in the days when the Olthoi still ran rampant. Some say Ben Ten was the first Sho to arrive. Whether man or woman, we do not even know for sure; we know only that Ben Ten was tall, thin of frame, and wore always a dark hood. Speaking softly, wielding a tachi of a quality that rivals even the mythical swords of the Dragon Temple, Ben Ten walked the land in search of the desperate who needed help. I know this because I was one of those rescued by Ben Ten.
As a child of only twelve summers, I was torn from my land and brought here, alone. As I wandered the plains, it happened that a pack of what I later learned to be reed sharks came upon me, and I remember fleeing toward an unfamiliar cluster of houses, screaming, sobbing, and knowing the terrible monsters would soon catch me. I saw a shadow come running from a house, and I saw the flash of a sword, but then I tripped and fell. As I lay cowering, I heard snarling and snapping and growling, and then a lon -
a bunch of stoopid, brainless, lame, idiotic,attention seekers, 2 cents worth of walking trashbag jabronis!!!!
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You also lower rank than me.No need to clean my ass.Let us have gang bang.Originally posted by Emperor Caerlin of Yalain:Cash has joined The Order of the Signature Lamer. We pledge to have the longest signature and be lamers forever!
PS: Cash is the lowest ranked though and cleans our asses for us.
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It was Saturday morning and I needed a break from studying so I thought I would try to round up a friend or two to go out and do something. I didn't have far to travel to my first stop since it was the apartment next to mine. I didn't know two of the women that lived there very well but the third was in the same graduate program as me and we got along together pretty nicely. When she answered the door I said, "Hello Sweetheart. What do you say we get the rest of the gang and check out the zoo? Come along quietly and nobody will get hurt." It got a smile but the lightness quickly faded and she appeared pretty dejected as she spurned my offer. I couldn't just leave with her looking like a lost puppy so I closed the door behind me and asked her what was wrong. I was too late to stop the tears. She started crying as she turned away from me and sat on the sofa. I plopped myself next to her and she fell into my arms. After a few minutes she composed herself and I dabbed under her eyes with my handkerchief. She asked if I remembered the test we got back the day before. Of course I did and she said that was the problem. Not that I remembered it but because of the grade she got. I tried to be sympathetic and encouraging as I said, "Don't worry about it. I know you didn't study for it but I'm sure it was just a temporary lapse. You're very smart. One bad grade isn't going to ruin your chances for graduating and you'll do much better on the next test." She sniffled and said, "I got an `A'" With just the teeniest bit of sarcasm I answered, "Oh, now I comprehend your dilemma. Getting the highest mark you can receive would get me upset too. I just hate it when I get good grades. I got an `A' once and I felt bad for weeks." My humor wasn't getting the response I hoped for so I gave up and said, "I'm afraid I don't understand why you have a problem with the grade." He short response left me speechless. "I cheated." This was not the girl I thought I knew. She was unbelievably honest. We would tease her every time she drove us somewhere because she wouldn't go one mile an hour over the speed limit. And then there was the time we went to get lunch and she drove back into the fast-food drive-through because they gave her a dollar more in change than they should've and she wanted to return it. Now she's telling me she cheated on a test? But if she got her test back what was she upset about? I asked if she got caught. She broke into tears again just after she said, "No." O.K. I'll admit it. I was stumped. "Then what's with the crying. You're safe. It was a stupid thing to do but you got away with it." She said, "That's the problem. I cheated and that wasn't right. I should've gotten caught. Now I'm going to feel guilty. It's just like last time." Ever insightful I said, "Last time? You mean you've cheated on tests before?" She stopped crying but still sniffled as she explained. "It was when I was in junior high and the teacher caught me. I failed the test and she wrote a note about it that I had to have signed by my parents." I interrupted, "That doesn't sound like the same thing. This time the professor didn't find out." She looked down and continued, "I didn't take the note home. One of my friends forged my father's signature and the teacher never questioned it." Still a bit confused I asked, "And this was a bad thing because..." "Because it was wrong and I felt guilty about getting away with something as horrible as cheating and lying about bringing the note home." I offered some of my great insight. "But you were just a kid. Doing stupid things is required at that age." She smiled. "I know that now but at the time all I knew was that I had done something very wrong and hadn't paid my penance." I asked, "In that case, why didn't you just tell your folks about the test? They were young once and they understand mistakes." She nodded. "I could be very noble and say I was trying to save them from being disappointed in me but at the time all I could think of was myself. My real concern was my ability to sit comfortably for the next couple of days which is something I wouldn't have been able to do if they saw that note. In retrospect I think that taking my punishment and getting it over with would have been better than feeling guilty for weeks. I've always tried to do the right thing and accept responsibility when I screw up but who can I confess to now? If I tell the professor he'll flunk me and there goes my degree. I'm too old to claim childish foolishness as the reason and now it really would be a great disappointment to my parents. So I'm stuck with the guilt. I'm sorry for being such a wet blanket. You want to go out but I'm not going to be much fun as company today. Go and have a good time. Don't worry about me, I'll get over this thing in time." Somehow, going to the zoo didn't seem very important right then. Not when I had a friend in need. Suddenly I had an idea. Maybe it was a stupid idea but at least it was something and to help her, anything was worth a try. I asked where her roommates were and she said they had gone out shopping at a large mall. They asked her to go with them since they were planning on making it an all day trip but the turned them down for the same reason she didn't want to go with me. However, she didn't tell them why and then added, "It would have been too embarrassing. I didn't mean to cry in front of you but I couldn't stop myself. I still feel just as guilty but I had to tell somebody even if it didn't do me any good." I was more eager than ever to try my idea. I said, "Maybe it did. You said you wanted to confess to someone and you just did. If it'll make you feel any better, I'm very disappointed in you. I really like you and would hate to think of you as the kind of person who would stoop so low as to cheat on a test. I have a solution to your problem if you're willing to try it." She asked what I had in mind but I didn't answer. That is, I didn't answer in words. I had a feeling if I told her what I planned she would immediately refuse but if neither of us had to say anything out loud maybe she would go along with it. Fortunately, she was sitting on the right side of the sofa and I was in the middle so there was no need for either of us to have to get up and move. I had been holding her during our conversation so I already had my arms around her. I gently pulled her towards me and there was plenty of room for her head on my left as I led her to a face down position over my legs. Although I was hoping for her acquiescence, I was also half expecting her to speak up and either demand to know what hell I thought I was doing or since her new position made it fairly obvious, to get off the sofa and slap my face. Neither happened. I slid her forward so her rear end was directly under my right hand which came down as soon as it could. I waited for her to explode in indignation now that there was no doubt about my intentions but instead she rested her head on her hands and although she turned her face away in what I assumed was embarrassment, it appeared I had gotten her permission to continue. I repeated my feelings of shock and dismay at her lack of discipline in not studying and then to risk her whole career in order to pass one silly little test. I punctuated my lecture with numerous spanks and they were getting harder and harder with each word. She was crying again but it couldn't have been because the spanking was hurting her. I think she was letting her guilt have an outlet through her tears. I was just providing the excuse. She was getting what she thought she deserved to cleanse her soul. Maybe I should've kept the spanking at that level but it didn't sound like her parents limited themselves to only a few hand slaps over her clothes. If she truly wanted to be absolved of her crime it would have to be something more than just a token punishment. I stopped both the lecture and the spanking and guided her to her feet so she was standing directly in front of me. It was now an established fact that I had taken it upon myself to see to her proper chastisement so I felt safe in speaking about it. "Your parents would be extremely disappointed in you and since they're not here, I'm going to see that you get the kind of spanking they would have given you if they knew how their daughter cheats on tests." Hearing no objection to my decree, I lifted the bottom of her sweatshirt and told her to hold it up so I could get to the snap on her pants. She took it in her hands and even pulled it a little higher as I undid the fastenings and the pants came down. I leaned over and she lifted one foot after the other as I removed them entirely. When I came up again I noticed she had the sweatshirt high enough so I could see the bottom of her bra. I don't know what came over me but I said, "Take it off." In one sweeping motion it went over her head and fell to the floor. Since she was barefoot when she answered the door she was now clad only in her underwear. I always thought she was pretty but now she was beautiful. She was blushing and there were still signs of tears so it was time to get back to business. I put one of the throw pillows over my lap ostensibly to raise her bottom a bit more but actually to try and hide the effect that spanking a partially clothed and very good looking girl was having on me. When she was over my lap again she turned her face towards me and gave me a nod as if to say she was ready for the next phase. I returned her gesture and accentuated my concurrence with my hand many times. During this portion of her spanking the waterworks started again and additionally, she was giving out little grunts and quiet sounds that led me to believe she was really feeling the effects of my rising and falling hand. Actually, I don't think she minded the hand going up, it was the coming down hard and fast that she acknowledged most vocally. Anyway, her bottom was bouncing with each impact and the skin outside the boundaries of her panties was getting pretty red. We were finally getting somewhere but although it was obvious it was really hurting, we weren't anywhere close to infringing on her ability to sit comfortably for more than an hour or two at the most. I was taking my role as her parent in absentia seriously but I wanted to make sure I was doing it right so I slowed the pace of the smacks and asked about how they spanked her. She said it would be too humiliating to talk about but a few more well placed and very hard swats helped her overcome her shyness. As I said, I was not striking as fast as I was earlier but I didn't stop completely so her explanation was often interrupted by some little cry or yelp. I won't try to accurately reproduce what she said but in essence I discovered that she was subject to corporal punishment at their hands (and other things I found out about later) until she was sixteen. However, it must be said that, for the most part, her feelings about honesty and clear definition of right and wrong were deeply ingrained and the need for external discipline was a very rare event. But when it was necessary, they were not adverse to seeing it applied in a manner to make a lasting impression. Although this was enlightening I still was in the dark as to their technique. An interlude of very hard swats got her to tell me more. Their method of choice was a stern lecture while she was over their laps getting her first spanking. That was the prelude to her real punishment which was usually with her wooden hairbrush. I asked if that was what they used all the time and she admitted that on one occasion she tried to hide the brush when she knew she was in for a spanking but she only did that once. Her father was upset but not deterred and used his belt as a suitable substitute. Additionally, he felt this method would have limited effect if she was on his lap so he made her bend over a chair. She learned more than one lesson that day and always made sure the hairbrush was available after that. That's not to say she particularly liked getting spanked with it but given the alternative of receiving the belt when he could get a full swing prior to impact, she choose to be over his knees and letting their favorite implement drive its message home. As you can imagine, it took a lot of effort on my part to elicit this history and it was getting harder for her to speak clearly but I had one more question. Did they spank her on the bare bottom? She must have had trouble remembering since I had to encourage her at least ten more times before she admitted to receiving all her punishments on unprotected skin. At that point she started sobbing so hard it was impossible to elicit any more information but I had heard all I needed to hear. I stopped swatting and gently rubbed her until she calmed down. She turned her face towards me and asked if the spanking was over. Her voice was a little shaky and her cheeks were still damp so it was hard to read what she was really saying but I thought I detected a note of disappointment. I couldn't be sure and since the primary reason for this whole affair was to assuage her feeling of guilt, I would let her decide. I sent the question back to her by saying, "I don't know. Is it?" She turned her head to stare straight ahead and after a few seconds, whispered, "No." I had only part of my answer so I asked, "Do you know what I'm going to do next?" Again I waited. She seemed to feel the need for more punishment but I don't think she was comfortable declaring her own fate. She shook her head and then contradicted herself by offering a suggestion. "You're going to spank me again." I said, "Right. Where am I going to spank you." She looked back me and not without a little bit of impishness, said. "Right here on the couch." I clarified my question. "Where are you going to feel the punishment?" She didn't hesitate this time. "My bottom." I corrected her. "Almost right. Same question but tell me what your bottom is going to be wearing." There was a catch in her voice as she said, "Nothing. You're going to spank me on my bare bottom the way my parents used to do." I was slowly taking the initiative in deciding how and what was going to happen next. "Good. You got that one correct. Now what do you think I'm going to use to spank that bare bottom?" She didn't answer which ironically was all the answer I needed. I asked if she still had the hairbrush and this time she answered both this and my earlier question. "You're going to spank me with my old hairbrush. It's in my room. If you let me up I'll get it." We stood up together and when she turned away and started to move I stopped her. "Stay here. Tell me where it is and I'll bring it out. In the meantime, I want you to stand here and think about what you did to deserve this and contemplate how that brush is going to feel on your bare bottom. And speaking of that..." I pulled her panties down to her knees and told her to keep them there until I returned. Then she would take them off completely before going back over my lap. She was starting to cry again but she nodded and said the brush was on her dresser. In order to keep the panties from falling any further she had to open her knees and I was looking at more than she wanted me to see. The old hairbrush was a formidable object. Thick wood with a wide head and I returned to find her as I left her. I sat down and said it was time to continue. I got the feeling she was glad to put her legs back together while not really being very happy about doing the final preparations for the sort of spanking she remembered as the reason she had her friend forge her father's signature. She had to bend down to finish the job and when she stood upright again I got rather bold. She had shown no reluctance to remove her sweatshirt earlier and she looked silly dressed in nothing but her bra so I pointed to it and said, "That too." I'm sure she had never had a punishment quite like this one. Not only was her rear end going to pay for her sins but she was going to be totally nude in front of one of her friends who just happened to be of the opposing gender. Her face became even redder but she obeyed. When this last garment fell to the floor with the rest of her clothes she did a September Morn stance with one hand covering her privates and the other arm across her chest. I could see she was getting impatient for me to get on with the next spanking and get it over with but I kind of liked what I saw and felt I was in the position to demand more. I told her, "You're being punished and part of that includes the loss of your rights to modesty. Put you hands at your side and push your shoulders back." Without a word, she did as I commanded and I and spent a few minutes looking at her lovely form. When I woke up this morning I never guessed that I would shortly be gazing at a lovely and totally naked girl and that she would voluntarily put herself across my lap for a hard spanking. She had done so once already and I had complete confidence that she was it going to do it again. The tears were streaming down her cheeks by the time I put the pillow back on my lap and patted my thigh as a sign that I was ready to continue with the physical part of her penance. Yep, she reluctantly but of her own free will moved to my right and then stretched herself over me for more punishment. Not only was my target raised by the pillow but her muscles were firm and well formed so even laying flat, the twin hemispheres were rising above the rest of the territory like a couple of rounded plateaus. Although the area covered by her underpants was not quite as red as the areas where my hand contacted directly against the skin, it definitely showed signs of the spanking so far. It was a most enjoyable sight but she had an appointment with an old friend. She buried her face in the cushion to muffle her cries as the brush landed. She vocally noted receipt of each swat and I gave her ample opportunity to repeat herself again and again. My hand got this area to bounce around but it was obviously no comparison to the actions the object I was using now was producing. Those breathtaking globes flattened out under the wood and quickly regained their form only to jiggle and wiggle delightfully as they anxiously and fearfully awaited the next visit from her faithful hairbrush. I figured I would let her give me some indication when she thought she had enough. Aside from her screeching at each contact she was apologizing for her behavior and promising to be good in the future whenever she could form the words. What she wasn't saying was that she wanted me to stop. No plea for mercy or even for a few minutes respite and not once did her hands attempt to cover her bottom for protection. The brush continued to inflict its special brand of discipline and she submissively endured all it had to offer. Eventually, she seemed to collapse and the tension that I felt in her up to that point was gone. Except for the involuntary jump her body was forced to do in order to properly acknowledge the arrival of another impact, she was a limp target and totally accepting blow after blow. Even her cries of pain were losing steam. We had reached the point where further punishment would be of little benefit and besides, my arm was getting tired. It was quite a while after I stopped before she was able to speak clearly. During that time I was doing my best to soothe the battered skin and telling her it was all over and she was forgiven. The important thing was if she forgave herself. Her face was a mess but still managed to have a look of contentment when she looked back at me and thanked me for being her friend and for giving her the punishment she needed. I was glad to hear her say she no longer felt guilty when we stood up. We hugged each other and then I picked up her clothes. As I gave them to her she thanked me again and asked if I would mind waiting while she got herself cleaned up so she could go with me to the zoo after all. I smiled and gave her another hug. The spanking had gone far beyond what I originally intended and had lost some of its erotic appeal so the reason for the pillow on my lap had subsided. I was holding a beautiful girl who was totally naked in more ways than just the lack of clothes but the desire to explore the delights of the flesh with her was not present. My arms were wrapped around a good friend and I was happy just to have been there to help her. We decided not to gather any of the others and spent the day together. Luckily, the zoo was within walking distance so she didn't have to sit in a car enroute. She also choose to remain standing while we ate lunch. We had a lovely day and when I dropped her off back at her apartment I got a very sweet kiss. I didn't see her on Sunday and waited till after class on Monday to mention her almost imperceptible squirming on the seat in the lecture hall. She blushed ever so slightly but smiled coyly as she whispered, "I hope nobody else noticed. I haven't had a spanking like that in years. In fact, I would have to rate it as the second worst one I ever got. I guess I should thank you. It hurt like hell and as you have noticed, I'm still a little sore but it made me feel better and believe me, I'll never even think of cheating on a test again." I told her she was welcome but couldn't let that comment about being only the second worst one pass without comment so I asked her if the top honors went to the time she felt her father's belt. She shook her head and said it was not something she wanted to talk about on campus but if I would spring for dinner she would give me all the gory details. What an offer. I accepted. I wasn't sure where I was going to take her to eat but when my roommates announced their plans to play poker with some friends I knew I had the place to myself till the wee hours of the morning. She might be uncomfortable relating her spanking experiences in a restaurant but things might be different in the privacy of my apartment. I made my world famous spaghetti and put an extra cushion on the chair. After dinner we sat on my couch and she snuggled into me. She said, "That was delicious and now I'll fulfill my part of the bargain. I should be embarrassed to talk about this but after what we did Saturday morning I feel I can tell you anything." She gave me a kiss and it was a little more romantic than the quick peck I got after our outing. Then she settled back and began, "I told you how I can't keep a secret when I do something wrong. Well, as you can imagine that got my rear end in trouble a few times but usually my folks would say they were proud of me for telling them what I did before they had to find out from someone else and didn't feel the need to punish me too much. But as I said, not always and occasionally my bottom paid the price for my sense of honor even if there was no way they would have ever found out what I did unless I told them. The incident I'm going to tell you about falls right into that category." "Your guess about the time my father put me over the chair and used his belt was pretty close. That one really hurt. I remember telling you I never neglected to have my hairbrush available when they punished me after that. It was the worst spanking he ever gave me but didn't hold that number one spot for long. I should tell you more about that first spanking so you can appreciate what came next. I knew I was in for a well deserved session over one of their laps and as you can imagine, it was not something I was looking forward to very much. I don't remember what I did but whatever it was, I didn't think it was worth getting the hairbrush for it. It was useless trying to argue with them but I thought I still could have some say in how I was punished so I told them I left my hairbrush at school. They didn't question my story since they had complete faith in my always telling the truth. For the most part, they were right. I still can't lie very well. Anyway, that night I learned that the hairbrush was not the worst implement they could use and that I was foolish to think I could have any control over the severity of my punishment." "The other thing about that night was when I thought about how I had betrayed their trust and how they completely accepted my tale of the missing hairbrush. That gnawed at me all night and even though I was reminded of the belt every time I sat down the next day I was still feeling remorseful. After dinner I couldn't stand it any more and told them the how I had the brush all along and had made up the story about leaving it at school. To top it all off I added that I thought the spanking with the belt was a suitable punishment for my earlier misbehavior but I deserved nothing less than the original spanking I should have received with the proper tool. Although I normally did not engage in the practice, I knew they hated lying. Anytime they caught anyone telling them less than the absolute truth they would be furious, especially with politicians. But this was not some outsider, this was a member of their own family whose lips had been defiled. They agreed with my idea of repeating the spanking of the previous night and sent me for the hairbrush. When I returned and handed it to my father he said he would give me my first spanking. At the time I assumed he meant the lecture and hand spanking before the second portion with the brush. Boy was I wrong but I didn't realize it yet." "I did get to hear him recount his disapproval of my actions while his hand prepared me for the real spanking and then he laid into me with the hairbrush. Let me tell you, getting that thing applied to my bare rear end after what it had been through the night before was no picnic. But that was only the first part of my punishment. My mother shoved a bar of soap into my mouth and sent me to stand in a corner. My crying just made me suck on it even more but I had been ordered to keep it in there until they said I could spit it out and there was no way I was going to disobey them. I was feeling sick to my stomach and I thought the pain in my ass would never go away but after about a half-hour it diminished to a dull but consistent ache. That's when I was told I could finally get rid of the soap but I was not allowed to rinse my mouth. Then they lowered the boom. My father had given me the original spanking I had been foolish enough to request and now Mom was going to give me another one for lying. I was dragged over her lap while she and her hand gave me her views on prevarication and then she let the hairbrush finish the conversation. It had a lot to say and took a long time saying it." "Can you imagine? In less that 24 hours I got six spankings. Three with their hands, one with a viscous belt and now two with the hairbrush. I might add that they were both the longest ones I ever remembered. I was sent to bed and cried most of the night. I didn't sleep very much but they still demanded that I go to school. I hated sitting in class after they spanked me but I think I was usually able to hide my discomfort pretty well but not that day. I'm sure every one of my classmates and all the teachers could tell I was still subject to corporal punishment and had received a better than average dose in the recent past. I was embarrassed to tears every time someone made fun of the way I gingerly sat down for the next three days." "Well, there you are. The story of my absolute worst spanking. The one you gave me was right up there but you'll have to go a long way to top the amount of punishment I took those two days. Actually, it was more than two days if you consider the humiliation I felt afterwards as part of it and they did." I said, "I hope I never have to spank you like that but you let me know if and when you need a small refresher." She laughed and said, "Next time I'm feeling guilty you'll be the first to know." Neither of us said much for the next few minutes as our lips were otherwise occupied and when that embrace finished we decided to try another. Somehow my hand slid around to caress the front of her shirt which magically became unbuttoned. Now if I could figure out how to get that contraption around her breasts undone I'd be in business. She provided assistance and soon the shirt and bra were tossed to one side. More kissing and groping and then she pulled back. With an obviously false smile of complete innocence she put her hand on my crotch and said, "By the way, what was it you were trying to hide with that pillow? Were you getting turned on by spanking me?" I probably blushed as I sputtered something but she save me from embarrassment by adding, "There was something about being almost naked and feeling your hand on my bottom that made it totally unlike any spanking I ever had. In some way it was sort of sexy. I tried to push those thoughts from my mind and concentrate on the punishment and you were a big help. What I needed right then was a really good spanking and you were kind enough to see that I got it. Long before you even started with the hairbrush I wasn't thinking about anything else except that I was sore and it was going to get a lot worse. It did. But I have to wonder. If you didn't spank me too hard and only used your hand on my bare bottom, how would I feel about that?" This was an offer I couldn't refuse. I gave the only answer I could. "There's one way to find out." She stood up and in a moment every stitch of her clothing was in a pile on the floor. There was no embarrassment this time as she put her hands to her side and moved her feet apart to let me stare at her. Part of me wanted to carry that lovely body to my bed but that would have to wait, at least for a little while. I patted my thigh as I did Saturday morning and soon was entranced by that gorgeous bottom under my eyes. There were still a few bruises from the hairbrush but there was plenty of room for the pale skin to turn red. In time it did but not a very deep shade. As requested, my palm landed relatively softly but repeatedly and without the pillow under her, she was well aware of how I was reacting to our game. I could only judge by her sounds that she was not finding our activity too unbearable either. She was nice and pink when she rolled off my lap and knelt between my legs so her hands could free what needed to be out in the open. It did not stay exposed very long. While her mouth was working wonders I got rid of my clothes above the waist and she managed to stay wrapped around me as I stood up and let her remove my shoes, socks and pants. To be honest it was more comical than outright sexy but that did not diminish my enthusiasm. She had to let me swing in the breeze to get my underpants off and then she lay on her back and offered me another place to find refuge. I'll save you all the details but we're much more than classmates now. On our wedding night I sat on the edge of the bed and got that wonderful bottom bright red before neither of us could wait any longer to consummate our marriage. It was a chore but one we felt the need to repeat numerous time that night and many nights since.
I have been called into the lounge. It is a large room with a fireplace, two couches and a number of easy chairs. I have no idea why He wishes to see me but I have nothing to fear. If he wished to punish me I would have been told to report to the room that he has set aside for that purpose. There are three men with him and they rise at my entrance. He announces, "Ah! The entertainment has arrived." I am confused until He tells me to take off my shoes and leave them by the door. My heart begins to sink. The removal of shoes is a ritualistic part of my preparation for punishment whenever I enter the special room. Nervously I do as he wishes and then I notice The Chair has been brought here and placed in the center of the lounge. I stand, too frightened to move. Surely he does not intend to spank me in front of these strangers. He has come forward to meet me. I try to read something in his face but it is impassive as always. Although he is nothing more than a gracious host to me most of the time, he has often deemed it necessary to punish me in the other room and I have always submitted to it without question. During those times he more my Master than my host and it is in that light that I see him now so I offer no resistance as he takes my hand and I am led like a lamb to slaughter.. He sits in The Chair and brings me down into an all too familiar position. I lie there in a daze as he raises my dress and slip. He grasps my waist and I instinctively take hold of the chair legs. As I wait for the first stroke I hear him say, "When I am using my hand I prefer leaving her underwear on. The texture of the material when I rub it against her firm backside is quite nice and there is a delightfully different feel to spanking her that way. Of course it doesn't hurt her as much but its a good start I see no reason why we can't have a little fun before I get to the real spanking." If I could bring myself to speak I would correct him. Keeping my panties on is slightly less humiliating especially in the present circumstances but they offer little protection and Yes, it hurts. Not only that but I most decidedly disagreed with his other comment. I don't think those spankings or the one I'm apparently going to get tonight are any fun at all but I remain silent. I am too ashamed to be in this position in front of these men and besides, it would not do to contradict someone when they are about to punish you. There would be nothing to gain and considerable to regret. The spanking starts. He is starting out harder than he usually does and I resign myself not only to the almost unbearable humiliation of being spanked for the entertainment of strangers but now to the pain which will build to an agonizing level sooner than normal. I am surprised when he stops. I wasn't counting but it didn't seem like much more than a dozen swats. He lets go of my waist and I quickly reach for the floor to steady myself. I didn't see the little table where he puts the implements nor did I see any of them in the room although I must admit, I didn't have time for a thorough search. Even so, I try to comfort myself. As I have said before, he is a man of ritual and when he punishes me over his knee he waits to use his chosen implement until he decides that I have been properly prepared for it and that usually takes a lot longer than this. There has never been a time when I have received such a short and relatively mild spanking. I feel him returning my clothes to there proper place and my heart soars. It has been most humiliating and I know I will still have to face the guests who have punctuated my shame by polite applause but maybe the entertainment he spoke of was just a demonstration of my submissiveness. I hope I pleased him. He guides me to my feet and stands beside me. I cannot bring myself to look up so I stare at the floor until he takes my hand and leads me to one of the men who has risen to greet us. My hand is transferred and with it my fate as I am brought back to The Chair. My guide sits and gently moves me to his side. I want to look at the man who is truly my Master this evening but I don't. I'm afraid it would be misconstrued as asking for mercy. If he wishes me to be punished at the hands of another I will be. It appears the evening's entertainment includes audience participation and I resign myself to be spanked again by the man who holds my hand. I fear he will not be the last. My reverie is broken as the man in The Chair speaks. "Personally, I prefer the feel of soft and silky skin. Take your underpants off." I realize he is talking to me and it takes a moment for his message to sink in. When it does I reach under my dress modestly, unsnap the garter straps, pull my panties down a little and reattach the garters. I am told to take the pants off completely and I do as ordered. My face is red with shame as I hold them in my hand, unsure of what to do and he says, "You may hold them until I'm done and then you can put them back on." I nod and with his kind assistance, find myself over his lap. He does not grasp my waist but rests one hand on the small of my back so I must keep my hands on the floor and cannot hold the chair legs. I mourn the loss of my anchor as he raises my clothes and spends a few moments gently rubbing his target. The shame of submitting to a spanking by a complete stranger is momentarily overshadowed by indignation. How dare he take such intimate liberties. Needless to say I keep my views to myself and listen to him complimenting the one who had previously had exclusive rights to this part of my body on how nice and soft he found the territory. I pray for him to get on with the real reason I am in this position and then wish he'd go back to that nice rubbing as the first of his swats lands. It hurts as much if not more than the last of the my Master's demonstration. The second one lands swiftly and I barely have time to catch by breath for the next few. When he stops it is only to readjust my position. The force of his blows has driven me forward and he pulls me back with the admonition to brace myself harder. He strikes hard again and again. I am trying to keep from crying out but each one is as bad as the first and I am about to lose the battle. I long ago gave up trying to count my Master's strokes in the other room but now it seems important, however, the pain is getting worse. I think we're somewhere around twelve when I cry out and that encourages him to strike even harder. Just as I abandon my efforts at counting he stops again. I think there were about fifteen I am crying and hoping he is done but I jump as I feel his hand again. He is not hitting but has gone back to rubbing. Even this gentle touch is a little painful but what was humiliating before is now soothing. Oh, No! Rub the pain away if you must but don't move your hand there. I am ashamed to find my own body betraying me and I cannot close my legs to prevent his hand from sliding down there. Please don't touch me there! Please, please! Too late. He has found my secret and I moan as he explores further but just enough to satisfy himself that I have had the required response to his efforts. He tells the assemblage what he has discovered. I'm not sure if the applause is for him or me and I'm too ashamed to care. He helps me to my feet and tells me I can put my underpants back on. I still have them in my hand but had forgotten them. I step into them and the elastic hurts as it slides over my recently abused skin. When I complete my task he takes my hand and leads me to the next man. I am not sure how I will survive another onslaught much less two but I must do the best I can. I am led back to the chair and wait as stranger #2 settles himself. He informs (me or the group, I don't know) that he also prefers panties off. I half expected as much but he doesn't stop there. He also does not care for the business of moving clothes after I'm over his lap so (now I know he's talking to me) the dress and slip will be removed first. With fresh tears in my eyes I unzip my dress and let it drop to the floor. I pull the straps of my slip off my shoulders and it joins the dress. I step out of them and a voice I recognize as having the power to stop this nightmare says, "You know better than that. Hang them up." I look to see him pointing to the hat rack that is normally in the other room. I pick up my clothes and walk towards it. As I put them on hangers I realize how close I am to the door. Freedom is but a few feet away but I cannot even think of such things. I turn back to center stage as it were and walk proudly. As proudly as I can with nothing on but my underwear and with the knowledge that as soon as I'm back at The Chair I have already been doomed to stand in front of them wearing even less. As I put distance between me and my outer clothes I know it is unlikely that I will be allowed to put them on again before they're finished with me and I have little hope that they won't make strip me entirely. The spankings I am being forced to submit to for their entertainment are, at best, only half over and I fear they will not be the full extent of the punishments I will endure before the night is over. Upon my arrival I'm told to take my pants down. I've already done this once but then at least I had the small modesty of performing this action under cover of my dress. Now I am in full view as I go through the steps of undoing the garter snaps, pulling my pants down a little and reattaching my stockings. I stand in readiness with my pants just above my knees and he informs me he is left handed. I don't understand what he means till he guides me around to his other side. In the process my pants have slipped down to my ankles and he decides it would be just as well if I took them off entirely adding, "Since you won't be needing them for the rest of the evening." Again I hold them but he takes them and tosses them to the side before pulling me down. It seems odd to be lying in this direction but I do not have long to reflect on it. He wastes no time in making me more uncomfortable. No intimate caress from this guy. Just a lot of pain as he starts right in with no ceremony. If he is trying to outdo his predecessor he is succeeding but lest he feel too smug, he's striking on territory that has been well prepared and the humiliation regarding my state of dress or undress makes each stroke even more acute. I am giving voice to every spank and crying continuously. It takes every effort but this time I count and hope my assumption of fifteen swats from each is correct. It is. My ass is on fire but his turn is over. He is nice(?) enough to let me revel in my humiliation and pain for a few minutes before he helps me up. At least he didn't put his hand where the other man did but I speak too soon. He has me stand in front of him and tells me to open my legs. In shame, I do and he reaches in to grasp my most intimate area. His finger enters and all I can do is moan. He doesn't stop immediately but continues to stroke and probe. My body is torn between the pain behind and the heaven in front. My knees are getting weak and there is no doubt about the state of my arousal. I lean forward and put my hands on his shoulders to support myself. Suddenly he stops. I shamelessly move my crotch to follow his hand but it is gone. I want him to do more and don't care who knows it now. I hear them laughing and the memory of where I am comes flooding back. I hang my head and feel the tears forming in my eyes. I jump as he touches my thigh. He is not finished with me yet. Apparently he feels he should give me to the next man with even less clothing on as he unhooks the garter snaps and peels my stockings down. I lift each foot in turn as they are removed. He puts his fingers in the garter belt and pulls that down. He is dragging the elastic over my sore bottom and it hurts but I hold my position as it too is added to the growing pile of my underwear. The only clothing left is my bra and I have already resigned myself to it's departure. I am slightly comforted that if I am to be stripped in front of these men, at least it will be at their hands. He has risen and turned me to face the other men as he unhooks my only remaining garment and with agonizing slowness, exposes my breasts to them. I look at the floor as I listen to more applause. He steps to my side and gazes on what he uncovered. Not satisfied with just looking, his hand completely engulfs one of them. He squeezes a little and pinches the nipple. Does my entertainment value include such liberties? The one who has that decision remains silent and so I have no choice but to endure them. However, I am embarrassed to admit that endure is not the right word. In spite of the humiliation of being played with in such an intimate manner in front of an audience, my body is responding to his touch and I find myself leaning into his hand. This seems to amuse them but I'm beyond caring. I'm led to the next man but not by the hand. He is still holding onto my breast as he guides me. With a smile that bodes no good to me, #3 puts his hand on my free breast and I feel #2's fingers slipping off me as my new leader pulls me back to The Chair. He never lets go so I am pulled down with him as he sits. I had almost forgotten about the spankings in the heat of the last few minutes but he finally releases his handle and I have my rear end sticking up in the air, ready for what I hope are the last fifteen swats. Oh! That one hurt. He's not holding anything back. The next is just as bad but I find my attitude changing. I have shamed myself in front of these men and have little doubt I won't do so again before the night is over. I want, no, need to be punished severely. I am trying to raise my ass higher as the third hard swat lands. Yes, make it hurt. I have made a lot of noise since I came into this room but they were sounds of pain or moans of sexual delight, frustration and humiliation. For the first time I say an actual word. "Harder." He hits again and a voice says wait. I'm staring down as footsteps approach. I know who it is and he drops one of his implements to the floor by my hands as he turns and walks away. I don't know where he had it hidden and part of me wonders if he intended to use it himself or if he knew I would want it. There is silence in the room and I realize the decision regarding its use is mine. I am afraid to think about it so I quickly pick it up and hand it back to #3 who asks if he should continue his count at five or start at the beginning again. The question may not have been put to me but I answer anyway, "Start again." Part of me (the rounded part pointing up) regrets my decision immediately. This tool is designed to hurt and I scream and writhe in agony. After the next few I give up counting. Fifteen is a concept I can no longer comprehend. Each stroke is being applied forcefully and my whole world is bounded by pain. I gradually become aware that he has stopped and is now emulating the first man's actions by rubbing my bottom. I have no shame now so I open my legs. Oh good. He's taken the hint and moved his hand lower. That's it. Touch me there. His fingers are probing in and out but I can feel something else. I think it's his thumb but where's he going with it? He's pushing it in but not in the same hole as his fingers. He commences moving it in and out like his other fingers are doing. No one has ever done this to me before and I am surprised to find it a not unpleasant experience as long as he has no ideas of putting anything bigger in there. His other hand is sliding under me near my shoulders and he lifts me up as he stands. His grip on my lower anatomy is a little painful but I have no fear of falling as he transports me to the couch. I am placed over the arm and he steps back. My position is such that it could invite more attention with their hands or the implement to what has been the target of all of them. With a small hope that I can encourage them in the direction I desire, I spread my legs in open invitation and am gratified to hear the sound of a zipper opening. I grimace as I feel hands on my ass but it is only to steady me for the impalement I crave. I raise myself a little higher to facilitate his entry and it is done. He has filled me quickly but stays still long enough to compliment me on how nice it feels. I cannot bring myself to answer but respond by moving in a manner to suggest he might do more than just stand there. Yes! That's the idea. He is using me forcefully. He stops. Why? Please continue. A blindfold is put over my eyes and he goes back to his actions. Harder and harder, faster and faster. When he is finished I am moved to the floor on my back. The rug hurts my ass but I accept it as more punishment for the way I'm acting. My legs are wide open for whoever wants me. I don't wait long. I can feel his clothes against my thighs but all I'm concerned with is if his fly is open. It feels like it is as he plows in. I don't mind that he doesn't take the time to give me any compliments as I buck to meet his every thrust. His hands are mauling my breasts and pulling the nipples but so what if it hurts, it spurs me on to more action down below. All too soon I feel him reach his goal and then I'm flipped over and pulled to my knees. Almost immediately, another takes his place and he's pushing so hard I'm moving across the floor. I brace myself and thrust back to meet him. Our activities are bordering on violent and I'm not complaining. The pain is forgotten and I am no longer even aware of what kind of spectacle I'm making. He slams harder and finishes. I slump to the floor but they are not done yet. I'm on my back again and filled again. Again my breasts are squeezed and pulled but wait, this is the fourth man to take me. My Master has never used me in this manner before. Is this him or was he one of the others. This is not the time for such musings as I respond to my present ravisher's manipulations with all the enthusiasm I can muster. He finishes his turn and I lay exhausted but they are not through. I am picked up and put back over the arm of the couch. Oh God. My ass is in the air again and they have all had their turn. Am I to be spanked again or worse, whipped with the implement to the extent I have come to expect in the other room? My answer come quickly as I feel a man inside me. I am so grateful that I'm not getting punished that it takes a few minutes for me to wonder who this could be. Are they each going to try another round. If so, I'm all for it but this guy comes to his climax too quickly to be one of the ones who just had their way with me. Hands grab me and I'm spun around leaning backwards over the couch and here comes another one. Yes! Do it hard like that. At last he goes away and I am moved to the floor again but they put me on my knees with my body raised. I am not in any position for more of what six men just used me for. Someone cuffs my hands and the blindfold is removed. I am shocked to see the butler and chauffeur standing with my Master and the three guests. They all have their penises out of their pants and are standing in a line. One by one they step forward and I must clean my residue from them using my mouth. My Master is first and I perform this service lovingly. Then the guests and finally the employees. I'm sure they were aware of how my Master treats me in the special room but have said nothing. Now there is no escaping that they see me for what I am and as I grudgingly clean them I wonder how I will ever be able to walk through the house with any pride ever again. The question of me walking through the house is immediately answered and my world shatters as the man who will never again be considered to be just the host to a young houseguest tells the butler, "Take her to the basement. We can fend for ourselves for a while so gather the staff and let them have their way with her. She will be more than happy to service them in any way they wish. That includes the women and these gentlemen's drivers. They may all spank her but limit them to five swats each. That ought to be enough to keep her satisfied. You may have her for an hour and a half. Clean her up and bring her back here when you're done. We should be ready for another round by then." Turning to me he says, "Welcome to your new life. Would you like to take this." He is holding the implement so recently used on me. I look down and say "Yes." as I accept it and follow the butler out of the room.
I've been on a job in Madrid and living in a hotel again. The project I'm working on is fairly large and there are folks from France, England, America and of course Spain. Conferences and meeting with all those languages represented are interesting to say the least. I'm fairly fluent in French and my Spanish is passable but how can you understand the British? Anyway, the bottom line is that I can't just fly home every weekend but most of us on the project are staying at the same place so there is always company for dinner or sightseeing. However, being part of the slightly older set I don't much care for going out drinking and carousing every night and the few of us with similar feelings tend to hang around together. There was one other American in that group. A middle aged woman named Nora. We had been talking about the trials and tribulations of the consultant's life and I said it must be worse for a woman to dine alone since she may inadvertently attract unwanted male attention. She rather coldly replied that nothing of the sort had ever happened to her and I understood why. She was the most unsexy woman I can recall meeting. There was nothing physically wrong with her face or figure and her personality was quite pleasant once you got to know her but she had an air of unapproachability that overpowered any trace of femininity. However, I wasn't looking for sex, just companionship and since we shared the same language and culture we were together a lot. In fact, one of the younger workers commented that he thought we were married. We laughed it off and I tried to imagine this unpassionate woman sharing my bed every night. I just couldn't see it but she had been married for twenty years so I guess her husband, Sam, found something in her that I overlooked. There was a much younger woman from Nora's consulting firm who went to some of the tourist attractions with us but she talked constantly about her boyfriend. She was twenty-four years old, very much in love and he was all Connie talked about. We heard how Mark did this and Mark said that and Mark was going to move in with her and Mark was... You get the picture. One day she went off with the younger crowd which left Nora and I to wander about the streets alone. That's when Nora shared her true feelings about Mark. She had met him and thought he was a shiftless, uncaring young man who never remembered things like Valentine's Day, Christmas or Connie's birthday and it seemed that Mark saw Connie as an easy lay and a free meal ticket since he seemed incapable of holding a job. Nora truly cared for the girl and wished she could get her to see Mark as an irresponsible parasite before she got hurt. She was working up good tirade and said that what Connie really needed was a damn good spanking to wake her up. As you can guess, my ears perked up immediately and I said, "I understand your feelings but most people would think her a bit old to get a punishment of that nature." She was still upset about Connie and wasn't thinking clearly as she answered, "Tell that to my husband. As far as he's concerned no female is too old to get a spanking when she needs it." She realized what she said and turned beet red. I probably should've ignored it but I said, "I know it's none of my business but you don't have to put up with that you know. You have no children and a good job. Why don't you leave him?" She looked surprised and said, "Why? Just because he spanks me? As long as it's out in the open that's what keeps me close to him. I need his discipline and he's never punished me when I didn't agree that it was necessary but can we talk about something else?" I pointed out an interesting building and we went back to our sightseeing until we came to a statue of a naked woman. When we stopped to look at it she said, "That reminds me. I forgot to stop the newspaper delivery before I came here." I'll admit it, I couldn't make the connection so I asked why that statue made her think of newspapers. She blushed and said, "Sam was on a trip when I left and when he came home there were five newspapers on our front porch. That's an open invitation to burglars and we were lucky nobody broke into the house." Her explanation didn't go far in enlightening me so I asked, "And the statue?" Now she really blushed and whispered, "The statue is dressed the way I'll be and looks like she could be getting ready to bend over for what I can expect from Sam when I get home since it was my responsibility and I screwed up." I apologized for pushing too hard with my questions and making her talk about `that subject' again but she shrugged. "Don't be sorry. It's been on my mind and I've needed to tell someone. Since I've already opened my big mouth about getting spanked I figured I could tell you the rest. I hope I haven't shocked you." We sat on a bench and I said, "It would take more than that to shock me and I get the feeling you'd like to tell me more. How does he spank you?" She looked around and there was nobody in sight. Even if there was they probably wouldn't understand her so she said, "This is embarrassing and I've never told anyone about it but if you really want to know..." She trailed off and I encouraged her to go on. "First of all my spankings are never a surprise. I know when I've done something to deserve getting punished and if he isn't already aware of it I usually tell him what it was. I've tried keeping some of my sins secret in the hope that he wouldn't find out but it's never worked. He knows me too well and can tell when I'm hiding something. When he has to probe to find out what's bothering me I can count on an immediate spanking for trying to avoid the proper punishment. That rarely happens anymore but I'm getting off the subject. Once it's established that I need it he decides on either the belt or the hairbrush and we wait at least one full day so I can think about what I've done and what he'll do to help me correct my behavior. Because of our work schedules there are times when the next day is not convenient so we have to make a later appointment. I never thought about it but in a way it's funny. The two of with our calendars out and trying to find a time we can mutually agree on for me to get spanked. Anyway, I get to choose from the first three days he has available and if I can't make it I get an extra swat for every day I go beyond that without proper retribution. When I agreed with those terms I wasn't considering being stuck 5000 miles away and it will be three weeks until we're together. He understands that I have no control over the travel plans on this trip but the extras will add up anyway. Every day I think of how much worse the punishment is going to be." She stopped and curiosity got the better of me so I asked, "What happens when you finally meet for your appointment?" She looked around again and asked, "Do I really have to tell you that?" I detected a vulnerability in her that I had not seen before. Along with it was a form of submissiveness that was very out of character. Rather than just refuse to relate this very personal part of her relationship with her husband she wanted my permission. The question was, permission to do what? Stay silent or be `forced' to expose her secrets? I chose the latter and commanded, "Yes. Tell me everything and don't even try to gloss over the slightest detail." She waited a minute and I wondered if I had overstepped my bounds but then she said, "The appointment is not only for a specific day but for a definite time. That's when he'll come into the bedroom. I must be nude like that statue and waiting with my nose in a corner. I hate that. The spankings I can accept. Just because I'm a mature woman doesn't mean I don't need a physical reminder from time to time to keep me honest but the corner business makes me feel like a little girl. I'm supposed to stay in that spot for ten minutes before he arrives. I tried waiting till I heard him approach once but he knew from my whole attitude that I hadn't obeyed him. Our schedules were open so it was easy to arrange another appointment the next evening to deal with my sneakiness. I had only one day to recover from the spanking I got that night with the hairbrush before I got another with the belt. So like it or not, I do what I have to and I'm reduced to a little girl every time. I don't expect the spankings to hurt any less but just once I'd like to be treated more like a grown-up first. I'm sorry, I shouldn't complain. He says the extra humiliation is good for me and I suppose he's right. If it was only a spanking it might not go as far in convincing me to be more careful. Be that as it may, all I can see is the wall as he lectures me. That's another thing I don't like. I know damn well why I'm going to be punished and don't need him to remind me but it's part of the humiliating little girl routine. Finally he says he's ready to give me the spanking for making the appointment." She must have seen the confusion on my face because she explained, "No matter what I've done wrong I always get spanked for the simple fact that I've let my self-discipline lapse. That's the way we always start. An old-fashioned over the knee hand spanking and since it's supposed to be a punishment in its own right he makes it good one. I can tell you it's not any fun at all but then again, it isn't supposed to be. Then I pile the pillows on the bed and lay across them. Over the lap is good enough for the first spanking but he can cover more territory by striking from one side and then the other as he addresses the specific reason for the appointment with the hairbrush or the belt." I asked, "How long does that last?" She sighed, "Twenty-five strokes. More if do something stupid like try to cover my bottom with my hands which I learned not to do a long time ago and then any extras I've earned for delaying the spanking. When I get home I'll have almost fifty strokes waiting for me and it will be with the belt. I wish there was some way I could go home early or get him to come here so I could get it over with and avoid at least some of those extras. After the hand spanking even a light swat with the belt or the hairbrush would be agony. Of course, he wouldn't think of depriving me of the full benefit of the punishment so there's nothing gentle about the way he uses either of them. He goes slow so I have time to reflect on every stroke and anticipate the next. When we get to twenty-five all I can think of is that my rear end is on fire and any extras are almost unbearable. I've only had to get the additional strokes a few times and I do everything I can to avoid them. I'll cancel meetings with clients if I have to in order to make room on my schedule for our appointment. Now there's nothing I can do except wait but the thought of my welcome when I get home is always on my mind" She needed a sympathetic ear and I was there to give her what comfort I could. I might also find a way to help with part of her problem. I asked, "When was his last available time?" She looked up and said, "The day before yesterday. Why?" I didn't answer her directly. Instead I mused, "So as of today it's twenty-seven strokes. I wonder if he's more concerned with you getting the proper punishment or the fact that he's the one to deliver it." She was starting to catch on and said, "I don't know. Are you suggesting that someone else spank me while I'm here?" I nodded and she thought for a moment. "We've never discussed that possibility but even if he agreed how would he know I really got it? Any marks would be long gone by the time I saw him again." I asked, "Could you lie to him?" She smiled and said, "I know what you mean. No, I couldn't and he knows it. Am I correct in assuming you're volunteering to do the honors?" This time I smiled and said, "What are friends for? However, I should warn you. I have some experience in this area and can assure you and Sam that if you accept my offer it will not be a friendly spanking. You will be well punished but on the bright side, you'll be spared twenty-one extras. I'm living at the end of the hall and none of the rooms between mine and the elevator are occupied so we'll have some privacy unless you make too much noise." She grimaced and said, "He doesn't like it if I scream too loud either but don't worry, I know how to muffle myself in the mattress. I get the feeling that your comment about me being well punished is probably true but it can't be any worse than what I'll get from Sam. I'll ask him. When would be a convenient time for you to do this?" I looked at my watch and did some time difference calculations. "We can head back now. He should be awake by then and if he agrees I'll expect you in my room in time for a six o'clock appointment." She nodded and said, "Which means I better get there early so I have time to do my corner thing. All right, I'll call him as soon as we get there." Neither of us said anything on the long walk to our hotel where we went our separate ways. About thirty minutes later my phone rang and it was Sam. We talked for a while and I gave my credentials. He seemed satisfied and said he would call back to listen to her punishment. We discussed a few more details and he hung up. At a quar -
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Shakespeare's life
Shakespeare's plays are read and performed all over the world. Yet they were written by an ordinary Englishman almost four hundred years ago. Ben Johnson, a fellow writer of Shakespeare, said that he was not for any one century, but for all time. One might add that he was for all places and all races.
We do not know many firm facts about most ordinary people of William Shakespeare's time, but we do know quite a lot about him. Several documents, or papers, about him survive. They include baptismal and burial records, business and theatre papers, and his Will. We also know a great deal about life in the sixteenth century. From all this we can build up a picture of Shakespeare's life.
Shakespeare was born about the 23rd April 1564, in the family home at Henley Street, in Stratford-upon-Avon, a small town in England about 100 km from London, the capital city. He was christened on that day in Holy Trinity church in Stratford. He was the third of the eight children, four boys and four girls, of John and Mary Shakespeare.
John's father, Richard, had been a farmer in a village a few miles from Stratford. John, like others of his generation, rejected the farming life in favour of learning a profitable trade. He became a glove-maker in Stratford, which was quickly becoming bigger and richer.
Stratford was a flourishing market town of about 1400 people, with many trades, the chief of which was brewing beer. It had regular trading fairs and markets, and many travellers passed through it. John Shakespeare made many other leather goods besides gloves. He became rich and rose rapidly to positions of importance in the town, becoming bailiff (i.e. mayor) in 1569. Shakespeare's mother, Mary Arden, was from a rich and ancient landowning family, so John had made more than one step in the world.
John Shakespeare's son, William, almost certainly attended the local grammar shool, the King's New School. Girls received little education. They had some training at home in needlework, singing and other skills, but boys of prosperous families started school at the age of four or five. A great deal of time was spent studying the 1-atin language. '1'he school day was a demanding one. It started at six in the morning and went on with little break until five in the afternoon.
William Shakespeare probably left school at the age of fifteen or sixteen. He then probably became an apprentice or trainee in his father's shop.
At the age of eighteen he married Anne Hathaway, the daughter of a neighbouring farmer, who was seven or eight years older than him. Anne gave birth to their first child, Susanna, about six months later. 1,ess than two years after that, in February 1585, the twins, Hamnet (who died at eleven) and Judith (who lived to seventy-seven) were born.
Almost nothing is known about Shakespeare's life between 1585 and the early 1590s, though there are many legends. For example, it is said that he stole deer from a rich man's estate and had to escape to London to avoid being prosecuted. Some people believe that he worked as a schoolmaster, a lawyer's clerk, a soldier, a printer or a seaman. We shall probably never know.
We know for certain that at some point in these years he went to London, and eventually became an actor and playwright. (The 'Wright' in 'playwright' has nothing to do with writing, but means a 'craftsman' or 'maker', as in 'shipwright', or 'wheelwright'.)
By 1594 Shakespeare was one of a group of actors called the Lord Chamberlain's Men. There were several such groups, each depending on a patron, a rich man who supported them with gifts of money. The best groups soon be- came profitable enough for the actors to grow rich, as Shakespeare himself did. By 1598 he was famous for writing tragedy, comedy and history plays, and also poetry.
In 1597 he was rich enough to buy New Place, the second largest house in Stratford, and in the 1600s he bought several more pieces of land around the town. He stayed with the Lord Chamberlain's Men, who were renamed the Kin's Men when James 1 became King in 1603, until he retired from the stage. He did little writing after 1610 and none, as far as we know, after 1613. He spent his last years in Stratford, only occasionally visiting London. He concerned himself with his business affairs, over which he was extremely careful. He remained a countryman, although he was a man of wide experience in the larger world of town and city. His plays reflect both town and country life.
In his will he remembered his family, his old friends from the theatre, and some ordinary people of his native town. He died on 23rd April 1616, and was buried two years later in the church in which, fifty-two years earlier, he had been christened.
Shakespeare's England
The England that Shakespeare knew was very different from the modem industrialised country it is today.
The countryside
Most people lived in small towns or villages, and the great majority were farmers. They kept sheep, chickens and cattle, and grew fruit, vegetables, wheat, oats and barley. They used horses for pulling ploughs and carts. Many farmers, like William Shakespeare's grandfather, Richard, were tenant farmers (that is, they rented land from rich landowners). Far larger areas than today were forest or marshes, and were not used for agriculture or housing.
Most rural people stayed in the same village throughout their whole lives. Transport was very difficult, as there were, of course, no buses, trains or cars, and roads were few and extremely bad. Ale main ways of travelling were on horseback, by horse-drawn carriage, or by boat along rivers and along the coast.
Houses were usually one or two storeys high, built of brick or of wood and mud, with thatched or tiled roofs, like Anne 1-lathaway's cottage. Rich people, however, lived in far bigger houses, and some in huge and beautiful palaces with hundreds of rooms. There were also many beautiful churches.
The towns
Towns were far smaller than they are today, and there were no big industries as we know them. People carried on many different trades and crafts, working at home or in small workshops. Clothmaking, leatherwork (such as Richard Shakespeare was engaged in), pottery, carpentry, baking, brewing, preparing meat, working in iron and steel, gold and silver, were examples of trades carried on in towns and villages. A great deal of very beautiful and skilled work was carried on in architecture, wood-carving, plasterwork for walls and ceilings, painting, embroidery and jewellery.
London
London was the capital city, then as now, but it had many fewer people than nowadays. It was a rich city that traded with many countries. It was also crowded, dangerous and dirty. There were many beautiful buildings, but there was no clean water supply or proper sanitation. Sewage ran into the river Thames. Rich people used to carry bunches of flowers or spiced oranges close to their noses when they walked in the streets because the smell was so bad. Not surprisingly, there were many outbreaks of the plague and other diseases. Most houses were built of wood and were crammed close together. In 1666, fifty years after Shakespeare died, most of London was burnt down in the famous 'Great Fire'.
The social system
There was a great difference between the way ordinary people and the rich and powerful ones lived. Rich landowners could keep hundreds of craftsmen working for them, as well as hundreds of permanent servants. Some- times they also supported drama or music and became 'patrons' to a group of actors or musicians, paying them for their work. The Earl of Southampton was Shakespeare's patron. At the head of all these rich and powerful people was the Queen, Elizabeth I. From Whitehall in London, she and her chief ministers ruled the country.
Queen Elizabeth I ruled England from 1558 to 1603. Her position was very "rent from that of the present Queen, Elizabeth II. She had more power than a modern-day President or Prime Minister: she often disagreed with Parliament, and could order the imprisonment or death of anyone, even an important minister or landowner.
Like other rich people of the day, Elizabeth I was a great patroness of poetry, drama, music and all the crafts. She loved beautiful clothes and had thousands of highly decorated dresses stored in her various palaces.
Elizabeth, and her successor James I, who ruled from 1603 to 1625, were, like all the kings and queens before them, different in one very important way from most modern Presidents or Prime Ministers. People believed that they were the representatives of God, and had a divine, or God-given, right to rule, which put them above everyone else in the country. People believed strongly that everyone had a fixed position in life. Anyone, for example, who opposed a king, as Macbeth does when he kills King Duncan, is breaking the proper order of things. Just as all parts of the body should obey the head, so the wife should obey the husband, and the subject the Queen (or King). Highest of all was God, whom everyone had to obey.
Everyone at any level of society was very likely to remain there: a farmer's son was likely to remain a farmer, and, unlike today, could not easily rise to a position of power through education. William Shakespeare's father, John, was an example of a farmer's son who was quite successful in his own town, but most really important people of Shakespeare's day were from a few powerful old families.
Shakespeare's plays reflect the big differences between the classes of people. His heroes and heroines are usually kings, queens or other aristocrats - rich and powerful people. Often such people came to watch his plays so they were, of course, interested. Even the ordinary men and women in the audience usually expected to see plays about exceptional or famous people, not about ordinary people like themselves. Shakespeare's plays are mostly written in poetry, but his poor people and servants usually speak in prose (that is, ordinary, non-poetic language). Most of the humorous scenes in Shakespeare deal with ordinary people rather than aristocrats, so that we laugh at 'lower-class' people more often than at 'upper-class' ones.
Religion
England had been Catholic until the middle of the sixteenth century when Henry VII quarrelled with the Pope and broke away from the Church of Rome. Elizabeth 1 enforced Protestant Christianity by law. Those not attending church regularly were punished. Catholics were increasingly oppressed.
For the first time, the Bible was widely available in English, and the large numbers of illiterate people could at least hear it read. Shakespeare's work uses the rhythms and images of the Bible, though he does not often mention characters or stories by name.
The Renaissance
The Renaissance (rebirth of learning) began in Italy in the fourteenth century and spread throughout Europe. There was new interest in the ancient Greek and Roman classics, and also new forms of art, architecture, music and literature. It was a period of change, questioning and vitality. People no longer believed everything they were told, but tried to find things out for themselves. Shakespeare's plays are part of this 'rebirth'.
Poetry and drama
In England it was above all an age of great poetry and drama. Besides Shakespeare himself, there were Spenser, Sidney, Marlowe, Chapmen, Johnson, and many other important writers. The drama especially flowered as never be- fore in England. Elizabethan music is also still performed and enjoyed in many places today.
Science, magic and medicine
Scientific and medical knowledge was progressing very fast in Shakespeare's day, but there was still a great deal of ignorance. People knew very little about health care, and did not understand that dirt breeds disease. William Shakespeare was one of eight children, but three of them died in childhood. Only he and one sister lived to over fifty. This was typical for that period. 'Apothecaries', or chemists, like the one in Romeo and Juliet, knew a lot about medicinal herbs, but there were many mistaken beliefs. People believed that a sick person could be cured by having the bad blood taken out of him: leeches, which look rather like small worms, were put on sick people's skin to suck out the 'bad blood'. People often died of the medicine they were given rather than of the disease!
People thought that everything was made up of four 'elements', Air, Water, Earth and Fire. In the human body there were four liquids, the 'humours', which corresponded to the elements and affected a person's behaviour. These were melancholy (bitter black bile from the liver) which made one sad; blood, which made one courageous; choler (bitter yellow bile from the liver) which made one angry; and phlegm (the mucous from one's nose, etc) which made one quiet and calm.
The ideal person was supposed to be a good mixture between the humours or elements. For example, in Shakespeare's Julius Caesar, (Act Five, scene 5), Brutus is described as having 'The elements/So mixed in him, that nature might stand up/And say to all the world, this was a man.'
Many people believed in witches, who co-operated with the devil and could harm others by their strange prayers and medicines; they could see into the future, like the three witches in Macbeth. Many harmless people, especially weak-minded old women, were accused of being witches, and were burnt to death.
Astrology and astronomy
Many people believed in astrology, a study of the stars and planets which, they thought, affected people's lives. The sun, the planets and some of the stars seem to move through the twelve groups of stars we call the Zodiac. Ale position of these stars when a person is born is supposed to affect his character and the events of his life. For example, the unlucky Romeo and Juliet are called 'star-crossed lovers'. Because the stars were in a certain unfavourable position, Romeo and Juliet had to die. In other words, people cannot control their own lives, but are controlled by the stars. '1'he horoscopes, or star signs, in today's newspapers and magazines are based on a belief in astrology.
Until the late seventeenth century, people thought that the earth was the centre of the universe, with moon, sun and stars revolving around it. Shakespeare probably believed this. Astronomy, the science of studying the planets and stars, was progressing very fast but, as late as 1616, the Italian astronomer Galileo got into trouble with the Catholic Church for supporting the view that the earth went round the sun.
Exploration
In general, however, people in Western Europe were finding out more and more about the world. Explorers sailed to Africa, Asia and America in their small (by our standards) wooden sailing boats, bringing back information and riches to their countries. Scientists were looking at the sky through the telescope (which was invented in 160, and performing many experiments to find out about the body, about medicine, and about the world around them.
Elizabethan drama
Today's theatres are comfortable buildings with seats for all the audience, and powerful electric lighting to illuminate the actors performing on stage. Often there is complicated scenery made of wood or cloth, representing walls, trees and so on, to give the impression of indoor or outdoor scenes.
In Shakespeare's day, theatres were Very different. The central part had no roof. As there was no electricity to light the theatres they had to depend on sun- light. The central, open-air part contained the stage and a yard. Many of the audience stood in the yard in front of the stage. The stage was raised so that everyone could see. Those who could pay higher prices sat on seats arranged in two or three storeys in a rough circle around the yard, rather as in a very small football stadium. Sometimes they even sat on the stage! The top storey of seats had a roof, and there was also an extra storey, the 'heavens', above the back of the stage, which contained machinery (for example, for lowering and lifting actors playing gods). At the back of the stage were large double doors or curtains leading to a dressing room for the actors. The space behind was also used for some inside scenes, for example, Juliet's tomb in Romeo and Juliet. Actors also went in and out (entered and exited) through these doors. There were trapdoors going down through the stage, for use as tombs, prisons or even hell. Unlike today's theatres, there was no scenery, so actors in Shakespeare's time could move very freely. Costumes were often rich and impressive, but not historically accurate. For example, the Romans in Julius Caesar would have been dressed more or less as Elizabethan gentlemen. Without costumes or scenery, plays had to rely on words to show the audience where and when the story was taking place. For example, in Romeo and Juliet, the play opens with lines which 'set the scene':
'Two households, both alike in dignity In fair Verona, where we lay our scene ...
(Act One, scene 1)
The audience had to use their imaginations far more than we do in the cinema or theatre today, and especially in one matter: there were no actresses! The theatre was not considered a respectable place for women to work, so all the women's parts were taken by young boys whose voices had not yet broken.
The origins of western European theatre
The western European tradition of theatre began in Greece in the fifth century BC. Tragedies and comedies were performed in huge open-air theatres for thousands of people. The tragedies usually dealt with traditional heroes of the past and with the gods.
The tradition of Greek theatre continued into Roman times, and famous Latin plays were written until about the first century AD. These Greek and Latin plays continued to be read, first in the original languages, and later in translation. Shakespeare would have known many of their stories and characters. Theseus and Hippolyta, Pyramus and Thisbe in A Midsummer Night's Dream, Hecuba and Helen, Acneas and Dido in Hamlet, for example, are all characters from Latin and Greek poetry and drama. Juno, Jupiter, Mars and Venus are some of the many gods that the Greeks and Romans believed in before the introduction of Christianity. These gods are often mentioned in Shakespeare's plays.
There was another tradition of drama in Western Europe. 'Mystery' plays based on Bible stories were performed on religious holidays in churches and market places. These were lively, often exciting and humorous plays, and they may well have helped to fire Shakespeare's imagination and point him towards his career as a playwright. Shakespeare, and the other playwrights of his time, also took stories from English and European history, and from novels, poems and plays by earlier writers.
In the sixteenth century, plays were first performed in the yards of inns (hotels) with a stage set up against a wall. Groups of actors used to travel round the country performing plays in inns and the houses of rich people.
The first building specially designed as a theatre was opened in London in 1576. The Globe Theatre was opened in 1599. Shakespeare's plays were performed here and in other London theatres such as the Swan and the Blackfriars Theatre.
MACBETH
Historical and theatrical background
Macbeth was written early in 1606, and the earliest recorded performance was in 1611 at the Globe Theatre, London. It is likely, however, that the play had been performed earlier than this.
It is one of the shortest of Shakespeare's plays. From the nineteenth century onwards, Macbeth has often been performed by companies as a special attraction when business was going badly. This is one of the reasons why actors consider it bad luck to quote from the play, or to mention it by name, especially inside the theatre - they always refer to it as 'the Scottish play'!
Shakespeare took the story from the Chronicles (1577), a history written mainly by Raphael Holinshed and known by his name, 'Holinshed'. He in turn had taken the story from the work of a Scottish historian called Hector Boyce, writing about fifty years earlier. Though Shakespeare develops the story in his own way, and invents a good deal, the central characters and events were closely based on actual history. King James I of England (who was also King James VI of Scotland), for example, was proud to count both Banquo and King Duncan among his ancestors.
The central theme of the play is the destruction caused when an ambitious man usurps power and undermines social and political order. In the process, moral and spiritual order are also seriously attacked, but in the end order is restored under a wise, strong and legitimate king. It is likely that Shakespeare wrote the play partly as a compliment to King James and as a celebration of that ordered rule which had very nearly been destroyed by the Gunpowder Plot.
Two difficulties which modem audiences sometimes have with this play concern the witches and the ghosts or apparitions, and these need some comment. In the case of the ghost of Banquo and the apparitions apparently conjured up by the witches, our difficulty need not be so great - if we do not believe in ghosts or visions, we can respond to these things as if they were hallucinations or delusions on Macbeth's part, caused by a guilty conscience or a vivid imagination. There are, however, people in the West who do believe in such phenomena, or who think that there might possibly be such things.
As far as witches are concerned, the position is more complicated. Belief in witchcraft is widely distributed in human society, past and present. Records of such beliefs go back to probably the prehistoric period, though some people (e.g. the Bushmen of the Kalahari Desert) do not have a belief in witch- craft. Generally witches are thought to be strange, abnormal people who use what they believe to be supernatural means in order to achieve some harmful, evil ends. Some societies, however, recognise 'white' witchcraft, the use of such powers for beneficial aims such as curing the sick. Witches are often blamed as the cause of things going wrong - e.g. for illnesses or untimely deaths, or the failure of crops.
Some people in Shakespeare's time thought that the beliefs about witches were simply superstitions. Others, like King James I himself, at first doubted but later appeared to be convinced that witches did have extraordinary and evil powers. He was very interested in the subject and wrote a book on it called Demonology (1597; Published in England 1603). Most people in those days, however, did believe in the evil power of witches, who were thought to be earthly representatives of the Prince of Evil. An Act of Parliament of 1604 made the practice of witchcraft an offence punishable by death. The campaign against witches was waged relentlessly, by Catholics and by Protestants, for centuries. It was not until the more secular philosophy of the modem world began to emerge from the late seventeenth century onwards that the European witch-craze died down. Many innocent women must have been killed over the centuries, however. There are still reports of traditional witchcraft practices and beliefs in Western societies in recent years.
Whatever we think of witchcraft, one thing is clear about Macbeth: Shakespeare does not put the blame for what happens on the witches. They have a keen interest and delight in encouraging human evil, but Shakespeare shows that evil is really in certain human beings themselves. Supernatural powers and their human agents can encourage this human evil to flourish, but they do not create it. The witches foretell the future - Macbeth, briefly, makes it.
Language and structure
Shakespeare telescopes the events of the play into what seems a short space of time, and the play has a very tight structure. We see Macbeth at the beginning and end of the play as a soldier - at the beginning he is a hero, loyal to the rightful king, and part of a system of order. At the end, however, he is a hated tyrant who has killed the rightful king, dispossessed his heir, killed others who would be in his way, and reduced the ordered kingdom to terror and anarchy. He is also, at the end, no longer part of a coherent society, but instead he is alone.
The first movement of the play is triggered by the prophecies of the witches - that Macbeth will be Thane of Glamis (as he is), Thane of Cawdor, and king hereafter, and that Banquo, though not becoming king himself, will be father to a line of longs. The prophecies add to what Macbeth has evidently already been thinking and help to impel him to the various actions of killing the king and having Banquo murdered. The second meeting with the witches also contains three prophecies - that Macbeth is to beware Macduff; that he should not fear anyone born of woman; and that he would be safe until Birnam Wood moves to Dunsinane. His reactions to the second set of prophecies lead to his downfall and death.
The witch scenes are therefore important in relating the two movements of the play, but the turning point of the plot is the banquet scene. Macbeth here briefly is able to act the part of king. The murder of Banquo should have made him secure, but ironically it is this which leads him to give himself away. Though Macbeth is able to gain control of himself eventually, it is too late, and though Lady Macbeth is still strong and determined, it is for the last time. There can be no looking back for him, and he determines that he has no choice but to go on killing.
It has been said that the play has some of the symbolic force of a morality play, and this is true. Yet the characters are not personifications of abstract virtues or vices, but living human beings, and sometimes very complex ones. Instead the symbolic force springs from the formal structure - what we have is a tight pattern of cause and effect, with every action leading to consequences which in turn have further results. The structure gives a sense of inevitability to the play, with nothing irrelevant and yet everything seeming natural in its place. Everything springs from the character of Macbeth himself and its impact, in action, upon those around him. The short scenes which occur from time to time, e.g. between Ross and the Old Man, or between the doctor and the gentlewoman, serve as a commentary on what has been happening, and enable us to see the events as part of a universal context.
The language of the play is particularly memorable for several related groups of images which powerfully help to achieve the presentation of the themes of the play. Especially noticeable are the following: images of clothing, particularly pointing to the difference between external appearance and the reality beneath, and sometimes implying that the clothes are too big for the wearer; images of bloodshed, and the attempts to wash away blood; images of sleep and sleeplessness; images of food and of banquets; images of disorder in the worlds of animals; images of health and disease.
The themes
The major themes of Macbeth are as follows: the sanctity of rightful kingship; the destructive nature of usurpation; the inwardly as well as outwardly destructive nature of evil (i.e. that it destroys the evildoer as well as his victims); the correspondence between order and disorder in the state, in nature, and in individuals; the justifiable killing of the usurper.
Summary of the plot
Macbeth and Banquo are generals in the army of Duncan, King of Scotland. They have just defeated an army of Norwegian invaders and Scottish rebels. They meet three witches, who greet Macbeth as Thane of Cawdor and 'king hereafter'. The witches tell Banquo that although he will not be king himself, he will be the father of many kings. The witches vanish, and news comes that Duncan has made Macbeth Thane of Cawdor, in place of the former Thane, who has proved to be a traitor.
Macbeth writes to tell Lady Macbeth of his adventures and the witches' prophecies about his future, and about the new title Duncan has given him. She starts to plan Duncan's death.
Duncan decides to spend the night at Macbeth's castle. Macbeth's own ambition, and the fact that the witches' prophecy came true, lead him to give in to his wife's persuasion and to kill the sleeping king. The king's sons, Malcolm and Donalbain, are suspected, and run away, and Macbeth is crowned king.
Macbeth determines to defeat the witches' prophecy concerning Banquo's children. He therefore tries to have Banquo and his son Fleance killed while they are out riding, but Fleance escapes.
The ghost of the murdered Banquo appears at Macbeth's banquet to haunt him, and he decides to consult the witches again. They tell him to beware of Macduff, Thane of Fife; that no one born of woman can harm him; and that he will never be defeated until Birnam Forest moves to Dunsinane. He therefore believes that fate is on his side. On learning that Macduff has gone to England, to raise an army to come back and fight him, Macbeth kills Lady Macduff and her children. Lady Macbeth goes mad and dies, and Macbeth is alone. The attacking army led by Malcolm and Macduff cut branches from the trees in Birnam Wood and use them as camouflage as they walk to Dunsinane - so that it looks as though the wood itself is moving, as the prophecy foretold. Macbeth goes to fight Macduff, who reveals that he was not born in the normal way but by Caesarean section (i.e. 'untimely ripped' from the womb) - thus the last prophecy comes true. Macduff kills Macbeth and Malcolm becomes King of Scotland. -
Fetishest of the fetish.
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I remember holding you so close to me,I could feel your breath and soft heart beat.
I never mean to let you down,I pray your face will never wear a frown.
I've loved you forever,in life times before,in the lives ahead of us,we'll love even more.
My love for you,is like the stars in the sky,it goes on forever,even after we die.