Podcasts about chapter iii

True crime. Serial killers. Human nature. When it comes to themes and songwriting, this is as real as it gets. We are joined by one of the more unique artists IUF has ever had the privilege to speak with – the mesmerizing and stirring SKYND. Donned inside the dark elements, there is no filter within her, and there is no act. Everything you see is what's on the surface, as she takes the stories from true crimes and serial killers and turns them into these shocking and unforgettable cinematic music videos. We also speak with SKYND about the motives and ideas behind these controversial songs, and it is quite the spiral pathway she takes us through. Throughout her music catalog, SKYND's songs are titled after the main killers, giving it a strong impression amongst her viewers (“Michelle Carter,” “Columbine,” “Katherine Knight”). Make no mistake, she is not glorifying the killers – rather, SKYND is raising awareness about these countless amounts of horrid crimes that people may not have enough information about. Paying respect to these victims who have lost their lives is the endgame, and she is dedicated to every one out there within her lyrics and within her visuals. It is a dark world out there, and SKYND embraces it while displaying that to full devotion. Alongside the imagery and influence behind her songs, we talk to her about the collaboration with renowned heavy music artist, Jonathan Davis of Korn – on the track “Gary Heidnik.” Getting the chance to work with one of her own musical influences is something she couldn't be more grateful for. For SKYND, it's also about being a storyteller and she is putting this out there with a full imagery of talent with it. There's the horror genre, and then there is the art that is SKYND. This is an episode you will not want to miss with a talented individual, tune in now and be sure to stay on the lookout for SKYND's third upcoming album, “Chapter III,” due out this Fall.Stay connected with SKYND, visit: https://skynd-music.com/, https://www.facebook.com/skynd.music, and https://www.instagram.com/skynd_music/Stay connected with IUF, visit: https://interviewunderfire.com/

We join Kimin the Shaman, Uraziti the Spellblade, and Milio the Bard while they investigate a skeleton of a leviathan held aloft by wriggling tendrils. They search for answers that will tell them more about the Vulturelands, but find themselves a little lost. Perhaps they'll get lucky and find their guide!If the custom moves in this recording are a little different than the end result we made available for listeners, it's because we edited them for improvements as we used them, so don't worry when they don't quite match.If you enjoy what we do and have the money to spare, please check out our Patreon. Along with our gratitude, you'll gain Discord access and the ability to vote on our upcoming games. In the Patron-only version of this week's episode, we spend more time discussing the custom moves I wrote for this point crawl, as well as the potential advanced moves available for these playbooks, and more!As always, you can follow us on Instagram and Twitter AT chimaeracast. We have t-shirts and stickers at thechimaera.bigcartel.com. And of course we'd love it if you left us a review!

Benny and Kelly revisit sit down with Zack and Seth to discuss Lost Symphony's Chapter III album release Benny Goodman is a multi-instrumentalist, producer, DJ, podcaster, and founder of the music project Lost Symphony.And check out Benny's podcast 2020'd here: 2020-d.comKelly Kereliuk is the guitarist for Prismind, Lost Symphony, Sound Chaser and Negus (Steve Negus ex-Saga), as well as a full-time instructor in the Hamilton, Ontario area for the past 30 years.    Check his PATREON for many new goodies www.patreon.com/kellykereliuk  Find out more about Lost Symphony here:  lostsymphony.comSupport the show (https://www.paypal.com/donate?hosted_button_id=8GTQGDBVRKHP2)

The Prince and the Pauper Chapter III - Mark Twain Tom got up hungry, and sauntered hungry away, but with his thoughts busy with the shadowy splendours of his night's dreams. He wandered here and there in the city, hardly noticing where he was going, or what was happening around him.  People jostled him, and some gave him rough speech; but it was all lost on the musing boy.  By-and-by he found himself at Temple Bar, the farthest from home he had ever travelled in that direction.  He stopped and considered a moment, then fell into his imaginings again, and passed on outside the walls of London.

For this episode, I'm joined by Skynd, lead singer and one half of the industrial-tinged, true crime-inspired electronic duo also known as SKYND. SKYND is the dark creative outlet for Skynd, along with producer and multi-instrumentalist Father. SKYND released Chapter I in 2018, followed by Chapter II in 2019. Now, with over 18 million hits on YouTube, “Michelle Carter” marks the second single in Chapter III, following 2020's “Columbine.” SKYND is unique in the way of releasing their singles one at a time because so much detail goes into their creations, as Skynd does heavy research on each subject and then must condense it all into a song and a video along with her collaborator Father. All the information about the cases they research can be found on the band's web site skynd-music.com, where you can find more information and links about all the subjects in the Case Files section. During my conversation with Skynd, we talked about how her upbringing lead her into an interest in true crime subjects, meeting Father, the process that goes into every song and video, and the creative outlet she feels doing this SKYND project, and much more. Socials: Web: skynd-music.com Facebook: facebook.com/skynd.music Instagram: instagram.com/skynd_music Twitter: twitter.com/itsSKYND YouTube: youtube.com/c/skynd SUBSCRIBE/RATE/REVIEW FRESH IS THE WORD: Subscribe on all major streaming platforms. Please rate and review on Apple Podcast and Stitcher. List of where Fresh is the Word streams: linktr.ee/freshisthewordpodcast or just search “Fresh is the Word”. Also available on IHeartRadio. THEME MUSIC Courtesy of STEVE O. Check out more music at eyeamsteveo.bandcamp.com. Support via Patreon If you want to support Fresh is the Word, please consider pledging via Patreon at Patreon.com/freshistheword. --- Send in a voice message: https://anchor.fm/freshistheword/message

You like fire. I know you do. Because fire is cool. But what if there was... a lot of fire? Like, just so much. Kai told me that these Bayonetta episodes are hard to follow along audio-only, which is correct. If you want to see the video versions of all this stuff you can check out the Patreon.

With Walter, Bunny & Humphreys captured by Doogin, Allen brokers a deadly deal with the Van Graff family. In the meantime, Synthia makes a daring escape from a legion attack. Calling all detectives! If you would like to support the further adventures of Walter & Bunny, please feel free to join A-Bomb Radio's Patreon or make a donation to our official Donorbox. Every supporter is very much appreciated. Also, be sure to check out A-Bomb Radio: a Fallout/Cold War-inspired web station in your preferred AppStore, or PC (links below). Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/abombradio Discord: https://discord.gg/JG8GcgatMV Podcast Merch: https://my-store-10162644.creator-spring.com/listing/true-vault-escapades-classic-b?product=2 One-time donations: https://donorbox.org/a-bomb-radio-donations Facebook: https://facebook.com/abombradio Twitter: https://mobile.twitter.com/abombradio YouTube: https://youtube.com/c/XperimentalMIRV Email and business inquiries: atombombradio@gmail.com  A-Bomb Radio (Fallout-inspired radio station): https://linktr.ee/abombradio  --- Audio program ©2021 Preston Hardin - All Rights Reserved. No reproduction of this content is permitted without express written consent.  This podcast is not endorsed by or affiliated with Bethesda Softworks or ZeniMax Media and does not reflect the views or opinions of either company or anyone officially involved in producing or managing Fallout. Fallout content and materials are trademarks and copyrights of Bethesda Softworks or its licensors. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Part III Chapter III, Part B, wherein John goes to Erskwood, West Virginia, to begin working for the West Virginia Southern Coal Company. Mary receives strange visitations in New York City.

We continue our playthrough of Fraser Simons' The Veil!900, Chainbreaker, and Mr. Smiley seek refuge in an arcade-cum-cathedral, but the recent assassination of a public figure isn't something they can shake so easily.

The author of the Bibliotheca tries to decipher the Olympian family tree. To join the discussion, visit the blog at Triumvir Clio's School of Classical Civilization. If there's no hyperlink showing up here, you can go to triumvirclio.school.blog to find a feed of recent episodes as well as discussion pages for every episode. Join me on Patreon at www.patreon.com/triumvirclio to get early access to ad-free episodes and bonus content. References Apollodorus. The Library. Translated by Sir James George Frazer. Loeb Classical Library Volumes 121 & 122. Cambridge, MA, Harvard University Press; London, William Heinemann Ltd. 1921. Available online at https://www.theoi.com/Text/Apollodorus1.html and http://www.perseus.tufts.edu/hopper/text?doc=Perseus:text:1999.01.0022. --- Send in a voice message: https://anchor.fm/bethany-banner/message Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/bethany-banner/support

The White Oak's Widow, Part III, Chapter III, first of two episodes. Mary is in New York and John is working the rails of the Southern Pacific Rail Company. Mary receives unwanted visits...

Sorry No normal episode this week. Instead a 4 chapter preview of the sister podcast located at Podserve.fm/w/goodnightpod If you want to read along you can do so below. CHAPTER I. Down the Rabbit-Hole Alice was beginning to get very tired of sitting by her sister on the bank, and of having nothing to do: once or twice she had peeped into the book her sister was reading, but it had no pictures or conversations in it, “and what is the use of a book,” thought Alice “without pictures or conversations?” So she was considering in her own mind (as well as she could, for the hot day made her feel very sleepy and stupid), whether the pleasure of making a daisy-chain would be worth the trouble of getting up and picking the daisies, when suddenly a White Rabbit with pink eyes ran close by her. There was nothing so very remarkable in that; nor did Alice think it so very much out of the way to hear the Rabbit say to itself, “Oh dear! Oh dear! I shall be late!” (when she thought it over afterwards, it occurred to her that she ought to have wondered at this, but at the time it all seemed quite natural); but when the Rabbit actually took a watch out of its waistcoat-pocket, and looked at it, and then hurried on, Alice started to her feet, for it flashed across her mind that she had never before seen a rabbit with either a waistcoat-pocket, or a watch to take out of it, and burning with curiosity, she ran across the field after it, and fortunately was just in time to see it pop down a large rabbit-hole under the hedge. In another moment down went Alice after it, never once considering how in the world she was to get out again. The rabbit-hole went straight on like a tunnel for some way, and then dipped suddenly down, so suddenly that Alice had not a moment to think about stopping herself before she found herself falling down a very deep well. Either the well was very deep, or she fell very slowly, for she had plenty of time as she went down to look about her and to wonder what was going to happen next. First, she tried to look down and make out what she was coming to, but it was too dark to see anything; then she looked at the sides of the well, and noticed that they were filled with cupboards and book-shelves; here and there she saw maps and pictures hung upon pegs. She took down a jar from one of the shelves as she passed; it was labelled “ORANGE MARMALADE”, but to her great disappointment it was empty: she did not like to drop the jar for fear of killing somebody underneath, so managed to put it into one of the cupboards as she fell past it. “Well!” thought Alice to herself, “after such a fall as this, I shall think nothing of tumbling down stairs! How brave they'll all think me at home! Why, I wouldn't say anything about it, even if I fell off the top of the house!” (Which was very likely true.) Down, down, down. Would the fall never come to an end? “I wonder how many miles I've fallen by this time?” she said aloud. “I must be getting somewhere near the centre of the earth. Let me see: that would be four thousand miles down, I think—” (for, you see, Alice had learnt several things of this sort in her lessons in the schoolroom, and though this was not a very good opportunity for showing off her knowledge, as there was no one to listen to her, still it was good practice to say it over) “—yes, that's about the right distance—but then I wonder what Latitude or Longitude I've got to?” (Alice had no idea what Latitude was, or Longitude either, but thought they were nice grand words to say.) Presently she began again. “I wonder if I shall fall right through the earth! How funny it'll seem to come out among the people that walk with their heads downward! The Antipathies, I think—” (she was rather glad there was no one listening, this time, as it didn't sound at all the right word) “—but I shall have to ask them what the name of the country is, you know. Please, Ma'am, is this New Zealand or Australia?” (and she tried to curtsey as she spoke—fancy curtseying as you're falling through the air! Do you think you could manage it?) “And what an ignorant little girl she'll think me for asking! No, it'll never do to ask: perhaps I shall see it written up somewhere.” Down, down, down. There was nothing else to do, so Alice soon began talking again. “Dinah'll miss me very much to-night, I should think!” (Dinah was the cat.) “I hope they'll remember her saucer of milk at tea-time. Dinah my dear! I wish you were down here with me! There are no mice in the air, I'm afraid, but you might catch a bat, and that's very like a mouse, you know. But do cats eat bats, I wonder?” And here Alice began to get rather sleepy, and went on saying to herself, in a dreamy sort of way, “Do cats eat bats? Do cats eat bats?” and sometimes, “Do bats eat cats?” for, you see, as she couldn't answer either question, it didn't much matter which way she put it. She felt that she was dozing off, and had just begun to dream that she was walking hand in hand with Dinah, and saying to her very earnestly, “Now, Dinah, tell me the truth: did you ever eat a bat?” when suddenly, thump! thump! down she came upon a heap of sticks and dry leaves, and the fall was over. Alice was not a bit hurt, and she jumped up on to her feet in a moment: she looked up, but it was all dark overhead; before her was another long passage, and the White Rabbit was still in sight, hurrying down it. There was not a moment to be lost: away went Alice like the wind, and was just in time to hear it say, as it turned a corner, “Oh my ears and whiskers, how late it's getting!” She was close behind it when she turned the corner, but the Rabbit was no longer to be seen: she found herself in a long, low hall, which was lit up by a row of lamps hanging from the roof. There were doors all round the hall, but they were all locked; and when Alice had been all the way down one side and up the other, trying every door, she walked sadly down the middle, wondering how she was ever to get out again. Suddenly she came upon a little three-legged table, all made of solid glass; there was nothing on it except a tiny golden key, and Alice's first thought was that it might belong to one of the doors of the hall; but, alas! either the locks were too large, or the key was too small, but at any rate it would not open any of them. However, on the second time round, she came upon a low curtain she had not noticed before, and behind it was a little door about fifteen inches high: she tried the little golden key in the lock, and to her great delight it fitted! Alice opened the door and found that it led into a small passage, not much larger than a rat-hole: she knelt down and looked along the passage into the loveliest garden you ever saw. How she longed to get out of that dark hall, and wander about among those beds of bright flowers and those cool fountains, but she could not even get her head through the doorway; “and even if my head would go through,” thought poor Alice, “it would be of very little use without my shoulders. Oh, how I wish I could shut up like a telescope! I think I could, if I only knew how to begin.” For, you see, so many out-of-the-way things had happened lately, that Alice had begun to think that very few things indeed were really impossible. There seemed to be no use in waiting by the little door, so she went back to the table, half hoping she might find another key on it, or at any rate a book of rules for shutting people up like telescopes: this time she found a little bottle on it, (“which certainly was not here before,” said Alice,) and round the neck of the bottle was a paper label, with the words “DRINK ME,” beautifully printed on it in large letters. It was all very well to say “Drink me,” but the wise little Alice was not going to do that in a hurry. “No, I'll look first,” she said, “and see whether it's marked ‘poison' or not”; for she had read several nice little histories about children who had got burnt, and eaten up by wild beasts and other unpleasant things, all because they would not remember the simple rules their friends had taught them: such as, that a red-hot poker will burn you if you hold it too long; and that if you cut your finger very deeply with a knife, it usually bleeds; and she had never forgotten that, if you drink much from a bottle marked “poison,” it is almost certain to disagree with you, sooner or later. However, this bottle was not marked “poison,” so Alice ventured to taste it, and finding it very nice, (it had, in fact, a sort of mixed flavour of cherry-tart, custard, pine-apple, roast turkey, toffee, and hot buttered toast,) she very soon finished it off. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * “What a curious feeling!” said Alice; “I must be shutting up like a telescope.” And so it was indeed: she was now only ten inches high, and her face brightened up at the thought that she was now the right size for going through the little door into that lovely garden. First, however, she waited for a few minutes to see if she was going to shrink any further: she felt a little nervous about this; “for it might end, you know,” said Alice to herself, “in my going out altogether, like a candle. I wonder what I should be like then?” And she tried to fancy what the flame of a candle is like after the candle is blown out, for she could not remember ever having seen such a thing. After a while, finding that nothing more happened, she decided on going into the garden at once; but, alas for poor Alice! when she got to the door, she found she had forgotten the little golden key, and when she went back to the table for it, she found she could not possibly reach it: she could see it quite plainly through the glass, and she tried her best to climb up one of the legs of the table, but it was too slippery; and when she had tired herself out with trying, the poor little thing sat down and cried. “Come, there's no use in crying like that!” said Alice to herself, rather sharply; “I advise you to leave off this minute!” She generally gave herself very good advice, (though she very seldom followed it), and sometimes she scolded herself so severely as to bring tears into her eyes; and once she remembered trying to box her own ears for having cheated herself in a game of croquet she was playing against herself, for this curious child was very fond of pretending to be two people. “But it's no use now,” thought poor Alice, “to pretend to be two people! Why, there's hardly enough of me left to make one respectable person!” Soon her eye fell on a little glass box that was lying under the table: she opened it, and found in it a very small cake, on which the words “EAT ME” were beautifully marked in currants. “Well, I'll eat it,” said Alice, “and if it makes me grow larger, I can reach the key; and if it makes me grow smaller, I can creep under the door; so either way I'll get into the garden, and I don't care which happens!” She ate a little bit, and said anxiously to herself, “Which way? Which way?”, holding her hand on the top of her head to feel which way it was growing, and she was quite surprised to find that she remained the same size: to be sure, this generally happens when one eats cake, but Alice had got so much into the way of expecting nothing but out-of-the-way things to happen, that it seemed quite dull and stupid for life to go on in the common way. So she set to work, and very soon finished off the cake. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * CHAPTER II. The Pool of Tears “Curiouser and curiouser!” cried Alice (she was so much surprised, that for the moment she quite forgot how to speak good English); “now I'm opening out like the largest telescope that ever was! Good-bye, feet!” (for when she looked down at her feet, they seemed to be almost out of sight, they were getting so far off). “Oh, my poor little feet, I wonder who will put on your shoes and stockings for you now, dears? I'm sure I shan't be able! I shall be a great deal too far off to trouble myself about you: you must manage the best way you can;—but I must be kind to them,” thought Alice, “or perhaps they won't walk the way I want to go! Let me see: I'll give them a new pair of boots every Christmas.” And she went on planning to herself how she would manage it. “They must go by the carrier,” she thought; “and how funny it'll seem, sending presents to one's own feet! And how odd the directions will look! Alice's Right Foot, Esq., Hearthrug, near the Fender, (with Alice's love). Oh dear, what nonsense I'm talking!” Just then her head struck against the roof of the hall: in fact she was now more than nine feet high, and she at once took up the little golden key and hurried off to the garden door. Poor Alice! It was as much as she could do, lying down on one side, to look through into the garden with one eye; but to get through was more hopeless than ever: she sat down and began to cry again. “You ought to be ashamed of yourself,” said Alice, “a great girl like you,” (she might well say this), “to go on crying in this way! Stop this moment, I tell you!” But she went on all the same, shedding gallons of tears, until there was a large pool all round her, about four inches deep and reaching half down the hall. After a time she heard a little pattering of feet in the distance, and she hastily dried her eyes to see what was coming. It was the White Rabbit returning, splendidly dressed, with a pair of white kid gloves in one hand and a large fan in the other: he came trotting along in a great hurry, muttering to himself as he came, “Oh! the Duchess, the Duchess! Oh! won't she be savage if I've kept her waiting!” Alice felt so desperate that she was ready to ask help of any one; so, when the Rabbit came near her, she began, in a low, timid voice, “If you please, sir—” The Rabbit started violently, dropped the white kid gloves and the fan, and skurried away into the darkness as hard as he could go. Alice took up the fan and gloves, and, as the hall was very hot, she kept fanning herself all the time she went on talking: “Dear, dear! How queer everything is to-day! And yesterday things went on just as usual. I wonder if I've been changed in the night? Let me think: was I the same when I got up this morning? I almost think I can remember feeling a little different. But if I'm not the same, the next question is, Who in the world am I? Ah, that's the great puzzle!” And she began thinking over all the children she knew that were of the same age as herself, to see if she could have been changed for any of them. “I'm sure I'm not Ada,” she said, “for her hair goes in such long ringlets, and mine doesn't go in ringlets at all; and I'm sure I can't be Mabel, for I know all sorts of things, and she, oh! she knows such a very little! Besides, she's she, and I'm I, and—oh dear, how puzzling it all is! I'll try if I know all the things I used to know. Let me see: four times five is twelve, and four times six is thirteen, and four times seven is—oh dear! I shall never get to twenty at that rate! However, the Multiplication Table doesn't signify: let's try Geography. London is the capital of Paris, and Paris is the capital of Rome, and Rome—no, that's all wrong, I'm certain! I must have been changed for Mabel! I'll try and say ‘How doth the little—'” and she crossed her hands on her lap as if she were saying lessons, and began to repeat it, but her voice sounded hoarse and strange, and the words did not come the same as they used to do:— “How doth the little crocodile Improve his shining tail, And pour the waters of the Nile On every golden scale! “How cheerfully he seems to grin, How neatly spread his claws, And welcome little fishes in With gently smiling jaws!” “I'm sure those are not the right words,” said poor Alice, and her eyes filled with tears again as she went on, “I must be Mabel after all, and I shall have to go and live in that poky little house, and have next to no toys to play with, and oh! ever so many lessons to learn! No, I've made up my mind about it; if I'm Mabel, I'll stay down here! It'll be no use their putting their heads down and saying ‘Come up again, dear!' I shall only look up and say ‘Who am I then? Tell me that first, and then, if I like being that person, I'll come up: if not, I'll stay down here till I'm somebody else'—but, oh dear!” cried Alice, with a sudden burst of tears, “I do wish they would put their heads down! I am so very tired of being all alone here!” As she said this she looked down at her hands, and was surprised to see that she had put on one of the Rabbit's little white kid gloves while she was talking. “How can I have done that?” she thought. “I must be growing small again.” She got up and went to the table to measure herself by it, and found that, as nearly as she could guess, she was now about two feet high, and was going on shrinking rapidly: she soon found out that the cause of this was the fan she was holding, and she dropped it hastily, just in time to avoid shrinking away altogether. “That was a narrow escape!” said Alice, a good deal frightened at the sudden change, but very glad to find herself still in existence; “and now for the garden!” and she ran with all speed back to the little door: but, alas! the little door was shut again, and the little golden key was lying on the glass table as before, “and things are worse than ever,” thought the poor child, “for I never was so small as this before, never! And I declare it's too bad, that it is!” As she said these words her foot slipped, and in another moment, splash! she was up to her chin in salt water. Her first idea was that she had somehow fallen into the sea, “and in that case I can go back by railway,” she said to herself. (Alice had been to the seaside once in her life, and had come to the general conclusion, that wherever you go to on the English coast you find a number of bathing machines in the sea, some children digging in the sand with wooden spades, then a row of lodging houses, and behind them a railway station.) However, she soon made out that she was in the pool of tears which she had wept when she was nine feet high. “I wish I hadn't cried so much!” said Alice, as she swam about, trying to find her way out. “I shall be punished for it now, I suppose, by being drowned in my own tears! That will be a queer thing, to be sure! However, everything is queer to-day.” Just then she heard something splashing about in the pool a little way off, and she swam nearer to make out what it was: at first she thought it must be a walrus or hippopotamus, but then she remembered how small she was now, and she soon made out that it was only a mouse that had slipped in like herself. “Would it be of any use, now,” thought Alice, “to speak to this mouse? Everything is so out-of-the-way down here, that I should think very likely it can talk: at any rate, there's no harm in trying.” So she began: “O Mouse, do you know the way out of this pool? I am very tired of swimming about here, O Mouse!” (Alice thought this must be the right way of speaking to a mouse: she had never done such a thing before, but she remembered having seen in her brother's Latin Grammar, “A mouse—of a mouse—to a mouse—a mouse—O mouse!”) The Mouse looked at her rather inquisitively, and seemed to her to wink with one of its little eyes, but it said nothing. “Perhaps it doesn't understand English,” thought Alice; “I daresay it's a French mouse, come over with William the Conqueror.” (For, with all her knowledge of history, Alice had no very clear notion how long ago anything had happened.) So she began again: “Où est ma chatte?” which was the first sentence in her French lesson-book. The Mouse gave a sudden leap out of the water, and seemed to quiver all over with fright. “Oh, I beg your pardon!” cried Alice hastily, afraid that she had hurt the poor animal's feelings. “I quite forgot you didn't like cats.” “Not like cats!” cried the Mouse, in a shrill, passionate voice. “Would you like cats if you were me?” “Well, perhaps not,” said Alice in a soothing tone: “don't be angry about it. And yet I wish I could show you our cat Dinah: I think you'd take a fancy to cats if you could only see her. She is such a dear quiet thing,” Alice went on, half to herself, as she swam lazily about in the pool, “and she sits purring so nicely by the fire, licking her paws and washing her face—and she is such a nice soft thing to nurse—and she's such a capital one for catching mice—oh, I beg your pardon!” cried Alice again, for this time the Mouse was bristling all over, and she felt certain it must be really offended. “We won't talk about her any more if you'd rather not.” “We indeed!” cried the Mouse, who was trembling down to the end of his tail. “As if I would talk on such a subject! Our family always hated cats: nasty, low, vulgar things! Don't let me hear the name again!” “I won't indeed!” said Alice, in a great hurry to change the subject of conversation. “Are you—are you fond—of—of dogs?” The Mouse did not answer, so Alice went on eagerly: “There is such a nice little dog near our house I should like to show you! A little bright-eyed terrier, you know, with oh, such long curly brown hair! And it'll fetch things when you throw them, and it'll sit up and beg for its dinner, and all sorts of things—I can't remember half of them—and it belongs to a farmer, you know, and he says it's so useful, it's worth a hundred pounds! He says it kills all the rats and—oh dear!” cried Alice in a sorrowful tone, “I'm afraid I've offended it again!” For the Mouse was swimming away from her as hard as it could go, and making quite a commotion in the pool as it went. So she called softly after it, “Mouse dear! Do come back again, and we won't talk about cats or dogs either, if you don't like them!” When the Mouse heard this, it turned round and swam slowly back to her: its face was quite pale (with passion, Alice thought), and it said in a low trembling voice, “Let us get to the shore, and then I'll tell you my history, and you'll understand why it is I hate cats and dogs.” It was high time to go, for the pool was getting quite crowded with the birds and animals that had fallen into it: there were a Duck and a Dodo, a Lory and an Eaglet, and several other curious creatures. Alice led the way, and the whole party swam to the shore. CHAPTER III. A Caucus-Race and a Long Tale They were indeed a queer-looking party that assembled on the bank—the birds with draggled feathers, the animals with their fur clinging close to them, and all dripping wet, cross, and uncomfortable. The first question of course was, how to get dry again: they had a consultation about this, and after a few minutes it seemed quite natural to Alice to find herself talking familiarly with them, as if she had known them all her life. Indeed, she had quite a long argument with the Lory, who at last turned sulky, and would only say, “I am older than you, and must know better;” and this Alice would not allow without knowing how old it was, and, as the Lory positively refused to tell its age, there was no more to be said. At last the Mouse, who seemed to be a person of authority among them, called out, “Sit down, all of you, and listen to me! I'll soon make you dry enough!” They all sat down at once, in a large ring, with the Mouse in the middle. Alice kept her eyes anxiously fixed on it, for she felt sure she would catch a bad cold if she did not get dry very soon. “Ahem!” said the Mouse with an important air, “are you all ready? This is the driest thing I know. Silence all round, if you please! ‘William the Conqueror, whose cause was favoured by the pope, was soon submitted to by the English, who wanted leaders, and had been of late much accustomed to usurpation and conquest. Edwin and Morcar, the earls of Mercia and Northumbria—'” “Ugh!” said the Lory, with a shiver. “I beg your pardon!” said the Mouse, frowning, but very politely: “Did you speak?” “Not I!” said the Lory hastily. “I thought you did,” said the Mouse. “—I proceed. ‘Edwin and Morcar, the earls of Mercia and Northumbria, declared for him: and even Stigand, the patriotic archbishop of Canterbury, found it advisable—'” “Found what?” said the Duck. “Found it,” the Mouse replied rather crossly: “of course you know what ‘it' means.” “I know what ‘it' means well enough, when I find a thing,” said the Duck: “it's generally a frog or a worm. The question is, what did the archbishop find?” The Mouse did not notice this question, but hurriedly went on, “‘—found it advisable to go with Edgar Atheling to meet William and offer him the crown. William's conduct at first was moderate. But the insolence of his Normans—' How are you getting on now, my dear?” it continued, turning to Alice as it spoke. “As wet as ever,” said Alice in a melancholy tone: “it doesn't seem to dry me at all.” “In that case,” said the Dodo solemnly, rising to its feet, “I move that the meeting adjourn, for the immediate adoption of more energetic remedies—” “Speak English!” said the Eaglet. “I don't know the meaning of half those long words, and, what's more, I don't believe you do either!” And the Eaglet bent down its head to hide a smile: some of the other birds tittered audibly. “What I was going to say,” said the Dodo in an offended tone, “was, that the best thing to get us dry would be a Caucus-race.” “What is a Caucus-race?” said Alice; not that she wanted much to know, but the Dodo had paused as if it thought that somebody ought to speak, and no one else seemed inclined to say anything. “Why,” said the Dodo, “the best way to explain it is to do it.” (And, as you might like to try the thing yourself, some winter day, I will tell you how the Dodo managed it.) First it marked out a race-course, in a sort of circle, (“the exact shape doesn't matter,” it said,) and then all the party were placed along the course, here and there. There was no “One, two, three, and away,” but they began running when they liked, and left off when they liked, so that it was not easy to know when the race was over. However, when they had been running half an hour or so, and were quite dry again, the Dodo suddenly called out “The race is over!” and they all crowded round it, panting, and asking, “But who has won?” This question the Dodo could not answer without a great deal of thought, and it sat for a long time with one finger pressed upon its forehead (the position in which you usually see Shakespeare, in the pictures of him), while the rest waited in silence. At last the Dodo said, “Everybody has won, and all must have prizes.” “But who is to give the prizes?” quite a chorus of voices asked. “Why, she, of course,” said the Dodo, pointing to Alice with one finger; and the whole party at once crowded round her, calling out in a confused way, “Prizes! Prizes!” Alice had no idea what to do, and in despair she put her hand in her pocket, and pulled out a box of comfits, (luckily the salt water had not got into it), and handed them round as prizes. There was exactly one a-piece, all round. “But she must have a prize herself, you know,” said the Mouse. “Of course,” the Dodo replied very gravely. “What else have you got in your pocket?” he went on, turning to Alice. “Only a thimble,” said Alice sadly. “Hand it over here,” said the Dodo. Then they all crowded round her once more, while the Dodo solemnly presented the thimble, saying “We beg your acceptance of this elegant thimble;” and, when it had finished this short speech, they all cheered. Alice thought the whole thing very absurd, but they all looked so grave that she did not dare to laugh; and, as she could not think of anything to say, she simply bowed, and took the thimble, looking as solemn as she could. The next thing was to eat the comfits: this caused some noise and confusion, as the large birds complained that they could not taste theirs, and the small ones choked and had to be patted on the back. However, it was over at last, and they sat down again in a ring, and begged the Mouse to tell them something more. “You promised to tell me your history, you know,” said Alice, “and why it is you hate—C and D,” she added in a whisper, half afraid that it would be offended again. “Mine is a long and a sad tale!” said the Mouse, turning to Alice, and sighing. “It is a long tail, certainly,” said Alice, looking down with wonder at the Mouse's tail; “but why do you call it sad?” And she kept on puzzling about it while the Mouse was speaking, so that her idea of the tale was something like this:— “Fury said to a mouse, That he met in the house, ‘Let us both go to law: I will prosecute you.—Come, I'll take no denial; We must have a trial: For really this morning I've nothing to do.' Said the mouse to the cur, ‘Such a trial, dear sir, With no jury or judge, would be wasting our breath.' ‘I'll be judge, I'll be jury,' Said cunning old Fury: ‘I'll try the whole cause, and condemn you to death.'” “You are not attending!” said the Mouse to Alice severely. “What are you thinking of?” “I beg your pardon,” said Alice very humbly: “you had got to the fifth bend, I think?” “I had not!” cried the Mouse, sharply and very angrily. “A knot!” said Alice, always ready to make herself useful, and looking anxiously about her. “Oh, do let me help to undo it!” “I shall do nothing of the sort,” said the Mouse, getting up and walking away. “You insult me by talking such nonsense!” “I didn't mean it!” pleaded poor Alice. “But you're so easily offended, you know!” The Mouse only growled in reply. “Please come back and finish your story!” Alice called after it; and the others all joined in chorus, “Yes, please do!” but the Mouse only shook its head impatiently, and walked a little quicker. “What a pity it wouldn't stay!” sighed the Lory, as soon as it was quite out of sight; and an old Crab took the opportunity of saying to her daughter “Ah, my dear! Let this be a lesson to you never to lose your temper!” “Hold your tongue, Ma!” said the young Crab, a little snappishly. “You're enough to try the patience of an oyster!” “I wish I had our Dinah here, I know I do!” said Alice aloud, addressing nobody in particular. “She'd soon fetch it back!” “And who is Dinah, if I might venture to ask the question?” said the Lory. Alice replied eagerly, for she was always ready to talk about her pet: “Dinah's our cat. And she's such a capital one for catching mice you can't think! And oh, I wish you could see her after the birds! Why, she'll eat a little bird as soon as look at it!” This speech caused a remarkable sensation among the party. Some of the birds hurried off at once: one old Magpie began wrapping itself up very carefully, remarking, “I really must be getting home; the night-air doesn't suit my throat!” and a Canary called out in a trembling voice to its children, “Come away, my dears! It's high time you were all in bed!” On various pretexts they all moved off, and Alice was soon left alone. “I wish I hadn't mentioned Dinah!” she said to herself in a melancholy tone. “Nobody seems to like her, down here, and I'm sure she's the best cat in the world! Oh, my dear Dinah! I wonder if I shall ever see you any more!” And here poor Alice began to cry again, for she felt very lonely and low-spirited. In a little while, however, she again heard a little pattering of footsteps in the distance, and she looked up eagerly, half hoping that the Mouse had changed his mind, and was coming back to finish his story. CHAPTER IV. The Rabbit Sends in a Little Bill It was the White Rabbit, trotting slowly back again, and looking anxiously about as it went, as if it had lost something; and she heard it muttering to itself “The Duchess! The Duchess! Oh my dear paws! Oh my fur and whiskers! She'll get me executed, as sure as ferrets are ferrets! Where can I have dropped them, I wonder?” Alice guessed in a moment that it was looking for the fan and the pair of white kid gloves, and she very good-naturedly began hunting about for them, but they were nowhere to be seen—everything seemed to have changed since her swim in the pool, and the great hall, with the glass table and the little door, had vanished completely. Very soon the Rabbit noticed Alice, as she went hunting about, and called out to her in an angry tone, “Why, Mary Ann, what are you doing out here? Run home this moment, and fetch me a pair of gloves and a fan! Quick, now!” And Alice was so much frightened that she ran off at once in the direction it pointed to, without trying to explain the mistake it had made. “He took me for his housemaid,” she said to herself as she ran. “How surprised he'll be when he finds out who I am! But I'd better take him his fan and gloves—that is, if I can find them.” As she said this, she came upon a neat little house, on the door of which was a bright brass plate with the name “W. RABBIT,” engraved upon it. She went in without knocking, and hurried upstairs, in great fear lest she should meet the real Mary Ann, and be turned out of the house before she had found the fan and gloves. “How queer it seems,” Alice said to herself, “to be going messages for a rabbit! I suppose Dinah'll be sending me on messages next!” And she began fancying the sort of thing that would happen: “‘Miss Alice! Come here directly, and get ready for your walk!' ‘Coming in a minute, nurse! But I've got to see that the mouse doesn't get out.' Only I don't think,” Alice went on, “that they'd let Dinah stop in the house if it began ordering people about like that!” By this time she had found her way into a tidy little room with a table in the window, and on it (as she had hoped) a fan and two or three pairs of tiny white kid gloves: she took up the fan and a pair of the gloves, and was just going to leave the room, when her eye fell upon a little bottle that stood near the looking-glass. There was no label this time with the words “DRINK ME,” but nevertheless she uncorked it and put it to her lips. “I know something interesting is sure to happen,” she said to herself, “whenever I eat or drink anything; so I'll just see what this bottle does. I do hope it'll make me grow large again, for really I'm quite tired of being such a tiny little thing!” It did so indeed, and much sooner than she had expected: before she had drunk half the bottle, she found her head pressing against the ceiling, and had to stoop to save her neck from being broken. She hastily put down the bottle, saying to herself “That's quite enough—I hope I shan't grow any more—As it is, I can't get out at the door—I do wish I hadn't drunk quite so much!” Alas! it was too late to wish that! She went on growing, and growing, and very soon had to kneel down on the floor: in another minute there was not even room for this, and she tried the effect of lying down with one elbow against the door, and the other arm curled round her head. Still she went on growing, and, as a last resource, she put one arm out of the window, and one foot up the chimney, and said to herself “Now I can do no more, whatever happens. What will become of me?” Luckily for Alice, the little magic bottle had now had its full effect, and she grew no larger: still it was very uncomfortable, and, as there seemed to be no sort of chance of her ever getting out of the room again, no wonder she felt unhappy. “It was much pleasanter at home,” thought poor Alice, “when one wasn't always growing larger and smaller, and being ordered about by mice and rabbits. I almost wish I hadn't gone down that rabbit-hole—and yet—and yet—it's rather curious, you know, this sort of life! I do wonder what can have happened to me! When I used to read fairy-tales, I fancied that kind of thing never happened, and now here I am in the middle of one! There ought to be a book written about me, that there ought! And when I grow up, I'll write one—but I'm grown up now,” she added in a sorrowful tone; “at least there's no room to grow up any more here.” “But then,” thought Alice, “shall I never get any older than I am now? That'll be a comfort, one way—never to be an old woman—but then—always to have lessons to learn! Oh, I shouldn't like that!” “Oh, you foolish Alice!” she answered herself. “How can you learn lessons in here? Why, there's hardly room for you, and no room at all for any lesson-books!” And so she went on, taking first one side and then the other, and making quite a conversation of it altogether; but after a few minutes she heard a voice outside, and stopped to listen. “Mary Ann! Mary Ann!” said the voice. “Fetch me my gloves this moment!” Then came a little pattering of feet on the stairs. Alice knew it was the Rabbit coming to look for her, and she trembled till she shook the house, quite forgetting that she was now about a thousand times as large as the Rabbit, and had no reason to be afraid of it. Presently the Rabbit came up to the door, and tried to open it; but, as the door opened inwards, and Alice's elbow was pressed hard against it, that attempt proved a failure. Alice heard it say to itself “Then I'll go round and get in at the window.” “That you won't!” thought Alice, and, after waiting till she fancied she heard the Rabbit just under the window, she suddenly spread out her hand, and made a snatch in the air. She did not get hold of anything, but she heard a little shriek and a fall, and a crash of broken glass, from which she concluded that it was just possible it had fallen into a cucumber-frame, or something of the sort. Next came an angry voice—the Rabbit's—“Pat! Pat! Where are you?” And then a voice she had never heard before, “Sure then I'm here! Digging for apples, yer honour!” “Digging for apples, indeed!” said the Rabbit angrily. “Here! Come and help me out of this!” (Sounds of more broken glass.) “Now tell me, Pat, what's that in the window?” “Sure, it's an arm, yer honour!” (He pronounced it “arrum.”) “An arm, you goose! Who ever saw one that size? Why, it fills the whole window!” “Sure, it does, yer honour: but it's an arm for all that.” “Well, it's got no business there, at any rate: go and take it away!” There was a long silence after this, and Alice could only hear whispers now and then; such as, “Sure, I don't like it, yer honour, at all, at all!” “Do as I tell you, you coward!” and at last she spread out her hand again, and made another snatch in the air. This time there were two little shrieks, and more sounds of broken glass. “What a number of cucumber-frames there must be!” thought Alice. “I wonder what they'll do next! As for pulling me out of the window, I only wish they could! I'm sure I don't want to stay in here any longer!” She waited for some time without hearing anything more: at last came a rumbling of little cartwheels, and the sound of a good many voices all talking together: she made out the words: “Where's the other ladder?—Why, I hadn't to bring but one; Bill's got the other—Bill! fetch it here, lad!—Here, put 'em up at this corner—No, tie 'em together first—they don't reach half high enough yet—Oh! they'll do well enough; don't be particular—Here, Bill! catch hold of this rope—Will the roof bear?—Mind that loose slate—Oh, it's coming down! Heads below!” (a loud crash)—“Now, who did that?—It was Bill, I fancy—Who's to go down the chimney?—Nay, I shan't! You do it!—That I won't, then!—Bill's to go down—Here, Bill! the master says you're to go down the chimney!” “Oh! So Bill's got to come down the chimney, has he?” said Alice to herself. “Shy, they seem to put everything upon Bill! I wouldn't be in Bill's place for a good deal: this fireplace is narrow, to be sure; but I think I can kick a little!” She drew her foot as far down the chimney as she could, and waited till she heard a little animal (she couldn't guess of what sort it was) scratching and scrambling about in the chimney close above her: then, saying to herself “This is Bill,” she gave one sharp kick, and waited to see what would happen next. The first thing she heard was a general chorus of “There goes Bill!” then the Rabbit's voice along—“Catch him, you by the hedge!” then silence, and then another confusion of voices—“Hold up his head—Brandy now—Don't choke him—How was it, old fellow? What happened to you? Tell us all about it!” Last came a little feeble, squeaking voice, (“That's Bill,” thought Alice,) “Well, I hardly know—No more, thank ye; I'm better now—but I'm a deal too flustered to tell you—all I know is, something comes at me like a Jack-in-the-box, and up I goes like a sky-rocket!” “So you did, old fellow!” said the others. “We must burn the house down!” said the Rabbit's voice; and Alice called out as loud as she could, “If you do, I'll set Dinah at you!” There was a dead silence instantly, and Alice thought to herself, “I wonder what they will do next! If they had any sense, they'd take the roof off.” After a minute or two, they began moving about again, and Alice heard the Rabbit say, “A barrowful will do, to begin with.” “A barrowful of what?” thought Alice; but she had not long to doubt, for the next moment a shower of little pebbles came rattling in at the window, and some of them hit her in the face. “I'll put a stop to this,” she said to herself, and shouted out, “You'd better not do that again!” which produced another dead silence. Alice noticed with some surprise that the pebbles were all turning into little cakes as they lay on the floor, and a bright idea came into her head. “If I eat one of these cakes,” she thought, “it's sure to make some change in my size; and as it can't possibly make me larger, it must make me smaller, I suppose.” So she swallowed one of the cakes, and was delighted to find that she began shrinking directly. As soon as she was small enough to get through the door, she ran out of the house, and found quite a crowd of little animals and birds waiting outside. The poor little Lizard, Bill, was in the middle, being held up by two guinea-pigs, who were giving it something out of a bottle. They all made a rush at Alice the moment she appeared; but she ran off as hard as she could, and soon found herself safe in a thick wood. “The first thing I've got to do,” said Alice to herself, as she wandered about in the wood, “is to grow to my right size again; and the second thing is to find my way into that lovely garden. I think that will be the best plan.” It sounded an excellent plan, no doubt, and very neatly and simply arranged; the only difficulty was, that she had not the smallest idea how to set about it; and while she was peering about anxiously among the trees, a little sharp bark just over her head made her look up in a great hurry. An enormous puppy was looking down at her with large round eyes, and feebly stretching out one paw, trying to touch her. “Poor little thing!” said Alice, in a coaxing tone, and she tried hard to whistle to it; but she was terribly frightened all the time at the thought that it might be hungry, in which case it would be very likely to eat her up in spite of all her coaxing. Hardly knowing what she did, she picked up a little bit of stick, and held it out to the puppy; whereupon the puppy jumped into the air off all its feet at once, with a yelp of delight, and rushed at the stick, and made believe to worry it; then Alice dodged behind a great thistle, to keep herself from being run over; and the moment she appeared on the other side, the puppy made another rush at the stick, and tumbled head over heels in its hurry to get hold of it; then Alice, thinking it was very like having a game of play with a cart-horse, and expecting every moment to be trampled under its feet, ran round the thistle again; then the puppy began a series of short charges at the stick, running a very little way forwards each time and a long way back, and barking hoarsely all the while, till at last it sat down a good way off, panting, with its tongue hanging out of its mouth, and its great eyes half shut. This seemed to Alice a good opportunity for making her escape; so she set off at once, and ran till she was quite tired and out of breath, and till the puppy's bark sounded quite faint in the distance. “And yet what a dear little puppy it was!” said Alice, as she leant against a buttercup to rest herself, and fanned herself with one of the leaves: “I should have liked teaching it tricks very much, if—if I'd only been the right size to do it! Oh dear! I'd nearly forgotten that I've got to grow up again! Let me see—how is it to be managed? I suppose I ought to eat or drink something or other; but the great question is, what?” The great question certainly was, what? Alice looked all round her at the flowers and the blades of grass, but she did not see anything that looked like the right thing to eat or drink under the circumstances. There was a large mushroom growing near her, about the same height as herself; and when she had looked under it, and on both sides of it, and behind it, it occurred to her that she might as well look and see what was on the top of it. She stretched herself up on tiptoe, and peeped over the edge of the mushroom, and her eyes immediately met those of a large blue caterpillar, that was sitting on the top with its arms folded, quietly smoking a long hookah, and taking not the smallest notice of her or of anything else.

On this episode of "Master Minds w/ Bro. Shem El", we will discuss what the harmonies of life are and how to they relate to one's daily life. Some of the things we will discuss are: What is the teaching of Confucius? What is Tao? Who are the Septonate? What is the One, the Three and the Seven as it relates to Divinity? Who are archangels? Why must we show love unconditionally? What parts of the brain access cosmic energies? And much, much Moor! We will touch on the metaphysical aspects of Chapter III of the Circle Seven as well as other spiritual writings. This topic will be of interest to many regardless of your religious or ideological background. You don't want to miss this show!!! --- This episode is sponsored by · Anchor: The easiest way to make a podcast. https://anchor.fm/app Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/shem-el/support

Ep. 62 Alex Skolnick (Testament / Alex Skolnick Trio / Trans-Siberian Orchestra) joins Benny, Siobhán and Cory and talks about his early musical experiences, how he joined the iconic thrash band TESTAMENT before even graduating high school and how his growing fame affected him as an introverted teenager. We also hear about Alex's thoughts on collaborating with former MEGADETH guitarist, Marty Friedman on LOST SYMPOHNY's upcoming release, Chapter III. IG/Twitter: @alexskolnick Check out Alex's podcast, "Moods and Modes" https://www.alexskolnick.net/ - WATCH + LISTEN + SUBSCRIBE: https://lnk.to/yougot2020d FOLLOW 2020'd: Official Site: https://2020-d.com/​ Facebook: facebook.com/yougot2020d Instagram: instagram.com/yougot2020d Benny Goodman: instagram.com/thebennygoodman/ Siobhán Cronin: instagram.com/siobhan_violin/ Cory Paza: instagram.com/corypaza/ Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Grammy-winning Megadeth bassist David Ellefson is back with Benny, Siobhán and Cory to talk about his experience working on Lost Symphony's upcoming release, Chapter III, where he performs on multiple songs alongside former Megadeth bandmate, Marty Friedman. David also discusses studying jazz, working in different recording and writing environments, and how his time in rehab shaped his outlook on life. In addition to playing in one of the biggest metal bands on the planet, David has also authored several books (his latest titled "Rock star Hitman"), owns a coffee company (Ellefson Coffee co), a production company (Ellefson Films) and a record label (EMP Label Group). Instagram: @davidellefsonbass Twitter: @ellefsondavid https://www.facebook.com/davidellefson https://davidellefson.com/ - WATCH + LISTEN + SUBSCRIBE: https://lnk.to/yougot2020d FOLLOW 2020'd: Official Site: https://2020-d.com/​ Facebook: facebook.com/yougot2020d Instagram: instagram.com/yougot2020d Benny Goodman: instagram.com/thebennygoodman/ Siobhán Cronin: instagram.com/siobhan_violin/ Cory Paza: instagram.com/corypaza/ - For more episodes, merch and more visit 2020-d.com Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Writing a good story, no matter the form, requires that you have these two fundamentals in place. What is this story about? What do my characters want?

Many times relationships act as a catalyst assisting us in becoming more intimate in our own lives. However there is a tendency to place this obligation onto others

The White Oak's Widow Part II Chapter III, detailing the events of Thomas Murphy's experiences in the British Army

The fallen angels had been set on humanity's destruction. At the same time they were dependent on humans as a place of refuge. It came to pass that rather than destroying them completely they found a way past having to depend on their bodies to dwell in or possess. They discovered a process to use them to become a new breed of humanoid. The demons are reborn through humans as a new breed called warlocks. In profane spite, the fallen angels continue their campaign against humanity as warlocks. They gain great influence through politics, education, religion, the media, etc. They capitalize on mankind's inherent wickedness and embolden humanity to become something that even God agonizes over. The Warlocks want God to hate humanity as much as they do. However, they don't want to be wiped away in God's wrath. Knowing there is an extinction level event coming, the warlocks find out that a man called Noah is the only one with a means of escaping it. The Warlocks want to find Noah so they can hi-jack his vessel, but they especially want to find him so they can end the continuation of humanity by replacing them. Though God could create another race of humans, the point is to thrust a sword to the heart of God by getting Him to wipe out His own creation. The twist of the knife will be in them killing the only human left God favored; Noah. But to kill Noah they'll have to get past the sons of the sons of God; the sons of the angels who remained loyal to God and shared in His love of His creation. The children of these Angelic sons of God became the heroes of old and great renown. These misunderstood half human angels are the Nephelim. LISTEN TO THE WHOLE BOOK FOR FREE IF YA LIKE, HERE! NOTE: This is a creative work and a means of entertainment made with a hope to inspire the reader with a healthy curiosity to examine the Bible. It is not meant to promote an idea of how the “Flood Event” could have happened. For the true account of Noah, prayer and reading the Bible is highly recommended. --- Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/alfonzo-rachel/support

The gang makes their way into Paru and do a little shopping before taking in a show. It is a completely innocent affair! Nothing going on in the background! Just good old fashioned town session! Nothing of note! or... perhaps a city of theater has a few secrets hiding backstage?

The third and final installment of our Trophy Gold campaign with Jason Cordova of the Gauntlet gaming community. Trophy (now called Trophy Dark) was originally published in Codex Dark 2 and the follow-up game Trophy Gold (which we’re playing today!) can be found in Codex Gold.Check here for a more in-depth look at Trophy.Ezio, Sareh & Thessil can finally see the true blight that’s befallen the town of Torren’s Bend, but are they willing to do what must be done to eliminate the demonic influence brought on by The Diabolist and Show Woman Extraordinnaire Beatrix Mandrake?…and hey! We have T-Shirts and Stickers! Check them out here

For us here at The Modern Lady Podcast, it is not *fully* the Christmas season until we have indulged in all of Nigella Lawson's holiday cooking specials!  But what you may not know is how Nigella became NIGELLA... and how the life and career of this accomplished, world renown gastronome was inspired by the love of her husband and the strength of their marriage.  We are pleased to present this next chapter of HER-Story, a Modern Lady Podcast occasional feature.  Please join us for today's tale, and enjoy!

Shaft, Falzaren and Mia learn where Dreg has teleported them after leaving Shikara behind Like our Stuff? Let us know on social media! Connect with us: Twitter: @IncorrigiblePar Instagram: instagram.com/incorrigibleparty Facebook: facebook.com/groups/theincorrigiblepartypodcast/ Website: http://incorrigibleparty.com/ Youtube: The Incorrigible Party YT Twtich: https://www.twitch.tv/incorrigibleparty Support us and get exclusive mini campaign content! https://www.patreon.com/incorrigibleparty Intro Music provided by: Josh Jarvis Contact Josh for your music needs! All other music courtesy of Tabletopaudio.com The Incorrigible Party podcast is sponsored by the amazing and very generous Critical Hit Design!

After meeting some Vistani women, Boren and Wendle learn their wounds will soon turn them into the beasts they’ve been running from. The Vistani offer to help, but only if the party agrees to clear out the tenants of “Death House." Wendle learns more about the mysterious influence of his axe…

The White Oak's Widow: Part I Chapter III BA continuation of my original horror novel, wherein the creature that Patrick Murphy met over years before in the Irish hills returns to torment him and little Bridget Murphy.

The White Oak's Widow Part I Chapter III A

Welcome to the Ballad of the Seven Dice. Our heroes steel themselves as they get ready for a battle against a villain they created.Evocation Spell - Sun Bolt - Ravi NidamarthyAssault Fighter - Interceptor Nova Explode - Stuart Duffield Stiletto Strikes Platemail - Illicevici SerbanCure Light Wounds Spell - Pablo BetancourtEnchantment - Sleep Spell - Novak CuicSavage Beast Claws Chainmail - Olivier GirardotSavage Beast Claws Cloth - Olivier GirardotEnchantment - Transfixion Spell - Phil ArcherEnchantment - Trance Spell - Ravi NidamarthyLightning Bolt Spell - Daniel WarnekeTransmutation - Weightless Spell - Phil Archer Restorative Spell - Pablo BetancourtBlood and Steel, Nomadic Dawn by Alexander Nakarada-from-filmmusic-ioAlone With Your Voices - Marc vd Meulen

Welcome to the Ballad of the Seven Dice.  With M'zi just finishing his little family reunion and the group arriving at the town of Wellshire, it is time for them to get ready for a very normal play. Cultist Song, Ballad Intro, Inn of the Seven Dice - Dave Cole https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCKclgweFe7swHCF2g6c2B8AReturn of Lazarus - Kevin Macleod (incompetech.com)Licensed under Creative Commons: By Attribution 3.0 License http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/  Easy Going Tavern - The Jolly Judge - Maria Milewska, Restorative Spell - Pablo Betancourt, Teleport Reappear - Stuart Duffield, Travel by Horseback - Horse and Carriage on Dirt - Slow Pace - WildDog Productions

Welcome to the Ballad of the Seven Dice. Our heroes have been reunited and it feels so good! Now that they are together it is time to regroup, share important information, and get ready for a totally normal play.Ballad Intro, Inn of the Seven Dice - Dave Cole https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCKclgweFe7swHCF2g6c2B8AGathering Darkness, Spacial Harvest, Silver Blue Light, Dreams Become Real - Kevin Macleod (incompetech.com)Licensed under Creative Commons: By Attribution 3.0 License http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/  Travel by Horseback - Horse and Carriage on Gravel - Slow Pace - WildDog Productions , Large City - City of Trade in Day - Olivier Girardot, Restorative Spell, Cure Light Wounds Spell - Pablo Betancourt, Zombie Horde - Attack of the Dead Ones - Franco Cugusi

"Chapter III: A Late Check-Out" Run-ins with guests, current and prior, make for a climactic stay at Squatter's Lake Motel.

We are embarking upon a quest to read and discuss the entire Sherlock Holmes canon. We will discuss one a day each day of the US social distancing due to the Coronavirus. Join us in reading these great stories and discussing the information every morning. Your questions and comments will be a big part of the discussion. Record your voice and send it to us or call the voicemail line (805) 410-4TMS and we will share your thoughts with the world!  Show Notes: https://bit.ly/tms72320 

Cystic Fibrosis (or 65 Roses to kids with CF who can't quite pronounce such a scientific term) is a progressive terminal illness that is genetically transmitted. CF primarily affects the lungs and digestive system. The body produces thick and sticky mucus that can clog the lungs and obstruct the pancreas. Cystic Fibrosis can be life-threatening, and people with the condition tend to have a shorter-than-normal life span. This is a basic definition of Cystic Fibrosis. The scientific definition. A definition that fails to even scrape the surface of this illness. In order to better explain just what CF is and how it affects the lives of the patients who live with it and the people who love them - I decided to speak to two families who have been directly impacted by this illness: The Higginbothams and The Corrys. The Higginbothams you will be hearing from: Steve, Ellen Ann, Kate, Meg, Matthew and Sandra (Matthew's wife) The Corrys you will be hearing from: Jack, Toni, John-Patrick, Ryan, Mary and Kaitlyn (Me! - Ryan's wife) Each person has a unique perspective on CF and is here to share their personal experiences and raise awareness! The 65 Roses Series will be 5 parts: Chapter I • A Mother's Love ft. Ellen Ann Higginbotham & Toni Corry Chapter II • A Father's Bond ft. Steve Higginbotham & Jack Corry Chapter III • My First Friends: A Sibling's Perspective ft. Kate Higginbotham, Meg Higginbotham, John-Patrick Corry & Mary (Corry) Field Chapter IV • In Sickness and In Health: A Wife's Persective ft. Sandra Higginbotham & Kaitlyn Corry Chapter V • The Trilogy: Direct from the Patient ft. Matthew Higginbotham & Ryan Corry

Cystic Fibrosis (or 65 Roses to kids with CF who can't quite pronounce such a scientific term) is a progressive terminal illness that is genetically transmitted. CF primarily affects the lungs and digestive system. The body produces thick and sticky mucus that can clog the lungs and obstruct the pancreas. Cystic Fibrosis can be life-threatening, and people with the condition tend to have a shorter-than-normal life span. This is a basic definition of Cystic Fibrosis. The scientific definition. A definition that fails to even scrape the surface of this illness. In order to better explain just what CF is and how it affects the lives of the patients who live with it and the people who love them - I decided to speak to two families who have been directly impacted by this illness: The Higginbothams and The Corrys. The Higginbothams you will be hearing from: Steve, Ellen Ann, Kate, Meg, Matthew and Sandra (Matthew's wife) The Corrys you will be hearing from: Jack, Toni, John-Patrick, Ryan, Mary and Kaitlyn (Me! - Ryan's wife) Each person has a unique perspective on CF and is here to share their personal experiences and raise awareness! The 65 Roses Series will be 5 parts: Chapter I • A Mother's Love ft. Ellen Ann Higginbotham & Toni Corry Chapter II • A Father's Bond ft. Steve Higginbotham & Jack Corry Chapter III • My First Friends: A Sibling's Perspective ft. Kate Higginbotham, Meg Higginbotham, John-Patrick Corry & Mary (Corry) Field Chapter IV • In Sickness and In Health: A Wife's Persective ft. Sandra Higginbotham & Kaitlyn Corry Chapter V • The Trilogy: Direct from the Patient ft. Matthew Higginbotham & Ryan Corry

We are embarking upon a quest to read and discuss the entire Sherlock Holmes canon. We will discuss one a day each day of the US social distancing due to the Coronavirus. Join us in reading these great stories and discussing the information every morning. Your questions and comments will be a big part of the discussion. Record your voice and send it to us or call the voicemail line (805) 410-4TMS and we will share your thoughts with the world!  Show Notes: https://bit.ly/tms62220 

... Read By Gavin J.K. Rowling [Author, awesome person] --- Send in a voice message: https://anchor.fm/serrated-edge/message

Did you know that Cerberus Jones is the three headed writing team made up of Chris Morphew, Rowan McAuley, and David Harding? I think that Cerberus Jones is a really funny name for them because Cerberus, in greek mythology, was the Three Headed Dog that guarded Hades' Palace.* Read by Gavin Cerberus Jones [Author, Three headed dog] *Can I call it a palace? Voice Message Button --- Send in a voice message: https://anchor.fm/serrated-edge/message

Voice Message Link https://anchor.fm/gavin-snyder/message Read by Luke Roald Dahl [Author] --- Send in a voice message: https://anchor.fm/serrated-edge/message

More great books at LoyalBooks.com

More great books at LoyalBooks.com

More great books at LoyalBooks.com

What's up, LifeRs!  We are going to discuss a poem today! The poem is listed below and listen today to see what I have to say about it!    Autobiography in 5 Short Chapters by Portia Nelson is a poem from her book There’s a Hole in My Sidewalk: The Romance of Self-Discovery.Chapter II walk down the street. There is a deep hole in the sidewalk. I fall in. I am lost ... I am helpless. It isn't my fault. It takes me forever to find a way out.Chapter III walk down the same street. There is a deep hole in the sidewalk. I pretend I don't see it.I fall in again. I can't believe I am in the same place. But it isn't my fault. It still takes a long time to get out.Chapter IIII walk down the same street. There is a deep hole in the sidewalk. I see it is there.I still fall in ... it's a habit. My eyes are open. I know where I am. It is my fault. I get out immediately.Chapter IVI walk down the same street. There is a deep hole in the sidewalk. I walk around it.Chapter VI walk down another street.

More great books at LoyalBooks.com

More great books at LoyalBooks.com

More great books at LoyalBooks.com

We are embarking upon a quest to read and discuss the entire Sherlock Holmes canon. We will discuss one a day each day of the US social distancing due to the Coronavirus. Join us in reading these great stories and discussing the information every morning. Your questions and comments will be a big part of the discussion. Record your voice and send it to us or call the voicemail line (805) 410-4TMS and we will share your thoughts with the world!  Show Notes: https://bit.ly/tms52320

More great books at LoyalBooks.com

Future President of the United States, George H.W. Bush saw his share of horror during his time as a Navy Flyboy in WWII.  But, some of the details would ultimately be erased by our government and even he wouldn't know the extent of how horrible it really was until many years later... George H. W. Bush Narrowly Avoided Being Eaten by Japanese Soldiers During World War II. Blake Stilwell. We Are the Mighty. https://www.businessinsider.com/how-george-hw-bush-avoided-being-eaten-by-cannibals-in-world-war-ii-2017-12 All That’s Interesting. When George H.W. Bush was Almost Cannibalized During World War 2. 06-12-2016. https://allthatsinteresting.com/george-bush-cannibalized-chichijima-incident Simple History. The President who Avoided Being Eaten by Cannibals in WWII. 12-30-2018. US Naval Institute. Former President George H. W. Bush on His WWII Experiences. 12-01-2019. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3KTkfqk-OGw Lend-Lease Act. History.com. 11/04/2019. https://www.history.com/topics/world-war-ii/lend-lease-act-1 World War II. History.com. https://www.history.com/topics/world-war-ii/world-war-ii-history George H.W. Bush’s Role in WWII Was Among the Most Dangerous. History. Jesse Greenspan. 02/13/2019. https://www.history.com/news/george-hw-bush-wwii-airman Island Hopping: Footholds Across the Pacific. Road To Tokyo. Pacific Theater Galleries. The National WWII Museum. https://www.nationalww2museum.org/visit/exhibits/road-tokyo/island-hopping President Bush Attends Christening Ceremony of the George H.W. Bush. The White House. Northrop Grumman Newport News Shipyward. Newport News, Virginia. 10/2006. 10:55 AM. https://georgewbush-whitehouse.archives.gov/news/releases/2006/10/20061007-1.html Bush’s Legacy Includes Decisive Military Action. US Department of Defense. 12/01/2018. Jim Garamone. https://www.defense.gov/Explore/News/Article/Article/1702803/bushs-legacy-includes-decisive-military-action/ Mission: Lifeguard. American Submarines in the Pacific Recover Downed Pilots. Nathanial S. Patch. https://www.archives.gov/files/publications/prologue/2014/fall/lifeguard.pdf The Secret of Japan’s Strength. Albrecht Furst von Urach. German Propaganda Archive. Calvin University. https://research.calvin.edu/german-propaganda-archive/japan.htm Fire for Effect: Toughing it out in the Japanese Army. Robert M. Citino. 10/2018. https://www.historynet.com/fire-for-effect-toughing-japanese-army.htm World War II: Japanese Army Training. 12/14/2015. https://www.histclo.com/essay/war/ww2/cou/jap/force/army/train/ija-train.html War in the Pacific: The Pacific Offensive. https://www.nps.gov/parkhistory/online_books/npswapa/extContent/wapa/guides/offensive/sec5.htm That Time Japanese Soldiers Cannibalized US Pilots in World War II. Logan Nye. 12/20/2015. https://www.wearethemighty.com/articles/time-japanese-soldiers-cannibalized-us-pilots-world-war-ii Sorties into Hell: The Hidden War on Chichi Jima. Stanley L. Falk. Society for Military History. April, 2004. Volume 68. P. 641-642. Inside Hook. Horrors of History: How George H. W. Bush Dodged Cannibalism Death in WWII. Jennifer Wright. April 5, 2019. https://www.insidehook.com/article/history/the-horrors-of-history-the-cannibalism-of-chichijima Japanese Soldiers Cannibalised US Airmen on Chichi Jima, WWII. George Winston. February 10, 2016. https://www.warhistoryonline.com/war-articles/japanese-soldiers-cannibalised-us-airme.html CNN Presents Story of George HW Bush World War II Experience. Aired December 20, 2003. Paula Zahn, Host. http://transcripts.cnn.com/TRANSCRIPTS/0312/20/cp.00.html File: Japanese War Trials. PDF. https://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?title=File:Japaneese_War_Trials_A.pdf&page=2 Secret Tale of WWII “Flyboys”. Rome Neal. 10/03/2003. CBS. https://www.cbsnews.com/news/secret-tale-of-wwii-flyboys/ Victory and Occupation. Chapter III. Return to the Islands. History of the US Marine Corps Operations in World War II. https://www.ibiblio.org/hyperwar/USMC/V/USMC-V-III-3.html Flyboys: A True Story of Courage. February 1, 2006. James Bradley. Little, Brown and Company. ISBN: 031610728X  

The crew party with the Ghoul, Orello takes a nap, Brendias moves a bomb, and Viatrix gets her gold before a great force enters the city. We also get the chance to meet another cast of characters.... who have their own plans for the city.

In the midst of the delirium tremens, the Captain tells more than he intends about the contents of his sea chest and his memory. Then we meet yet another old pirate, who delivers to the captain the dreaded Black Spot. Music: The Buccaneer's Haul by Shane Ivers - www.silvermansound.com

Season One comes to a close as we follow Daughter Dooley to the far reaches of Last Harbor and witness what changed her and The Black Stag whose name sounds like, but is not Horn-ed Head or Hornet Head.