Podcasts about green cities

Atop the 8 o'clock hour, RICHMOND BIZSENSE reporter Jonathan Spiers calls in to the show, to discuss the latest news regarding the Green City development in Henrico.

In our third hour, we discuss the latest news regarding Henrico's Green City development, as well as ongoing trade talks between the U.S. and China.

On today's show, we discuss Qatar's proposed gift to President Trump, Mexican cattle imports, ICE protests, Green City, U.S.-China trade negotiations, David Hogg, and -- apple pie! Our guests are Eben Brown, Tony Pham, Jonathan Spiers, and Terry Schilling. Enjoy!

The following article of the Policy and Economy industry is: “From Pollution to Solution: IT as the Engine for Green Cities” by Adrian Sanchez Roa, Director of Sustainability and Circular Economy, COMPECER.

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Peter Newman, Professor of Sustainability at Curtin University says zero emissions is essential for our long-term viability. Some cities are leaping forward with their green agenda, embracing new technologies and restoring ecosystems. Is St Louis Missouri in the race?

Eine Grüne Stadt hat viele Vorteile für die Menschen. Oder wie ich es bestens zusammengefasst kürzlich gelesen habe: „Green makes you healthy, happy, cools, purifies, provides renewable building materials and food, and provides a natural habitat for every kind of human and animal.“ Die 3. Staffel, die parallel zu einem Buchprojekt mit dem gleichen Thema entsteht, zielt darauf ab, diese Vorteile greifbar zu machen und aufzuzeigen, wie sie Grüne Städte weltweit gekonnt umsetzen. In einer Zeit, in der Städte zunehmend mit den Herausforderungen des Klimawandels und schwindender Biodiversität konfrontiert sind, bietet das Konzept der Grünen Stadt vielfältige Lösungsansätze. Doch Städte sind komplexe Gebilde. Um dieser auf den Leib zu rücken, habe ich das Gespräch mit Grünstadt Schweiz gesucht. Diese Organisation verleiht grünen Städte ein Zertifikat. Dafür werden sie auf Grundlage eines detaillierten Massnahmenkatalogs bewertet, ein Prozess, der seinerseits den Weg zur Grünen Stadt weiter ebnet. Ich habe mit dem Geschäftsleiter von Grünstadt Schweiz über Erfolgsfaktoren, Hürden und Zukunftsbilder gesprochen.

In this special episode, we speak with Professor Haim Zvi Dotan. Prof Dotan embodies the intersection of innovation, artistry, and forward-thinking design. He's an internationally renowned architect, poet, educator, and futurist. He's the visionary mind behind the Zhangjiajie Grand Canyon Glass Bridge- the world's first, longest, and highest glass-bottom bridge - a stunning architectural marvel that has become an iconic landmark in China and a symbol of bold innovation worldwide. He's been recognized for his groundbreaking contributions, earning numerous honors, including the title of “Honorary Citizen of Zhangjiajie” and the prestigious iNNOVEX Global Leader of Innovation Award. Beyond his architectural accomplishments, he's a dedicated educator, sharing his expertise as a professor at leading institutions like Fudan University, the Shanghai Institute of Visual Arts, and the DeTao Masters Academy. And above all of this, he's truly a special spirit. We discuss: • The concept of time and the journey of life • Prof. Dotan's belief that every person is a genius if they connect to their inner soul and DNA • The role of education in connecting students to their inner wisdom and the importance of passion and curiosity in achieving success. • How creativity is linked to being fully aware of the now • The concept of being a "startup nation" and how everyone has a unique mission and passion that they should follow • The importance of following one's passion and not being afraid to explore different paths in life • Prof. Dotan's passion for being a bridge between people and how this has shaped his career and life • The importance of being oneself and not trying to fit into societal expectations or the expectations of others. • And much more! This episode is dedicated to Miri Perlman, a 25-year-old student of Professor Dotan who passed away unexpectedly. Shortly before her passing, Miri attended Professor Dotan's workshop, “Green Cities and Smart Building” at HIT. During the workshop, she drew a portrait of Professor Dotan, and he captured a photo of her while drawing. Tragically, this photo turned out to be the last picture taken of her alive. In many ways, this episode is a reminder of how fragile life truly is, and how important it is to truly try to tap into the best version of ourselves and do the best with what we have because we only have one life. We hope you listen to this unique episode.

Dallas Green (City and Colour) is a Canadian singer and songwriter. He is also a singer and guitarist for post-hardcore band, Alexisonfire. He is set to tour Australia in January 2025.

This week, we talk with International Worker Krisy about her work in 'Green City,' exploring the history, challenges, and cultural nuances of making the Bible accessible in diverse contexts. From navigating theological concepts to bridging religious divides, Krisy shares insights into the impact and future of translation efforts. DISCLAIMER: The views and opinions expressed in this podcast are those of the cast members and do not necessarily reflect the official position of Christ Community Church.

This week, we dive into the world of missional peacebuilding with Eric, an international worker from the country codenamed “Green City. “ We explore PeaceGeneration's work in promoting the 12 Basic Peace Values and its unique approach to interfaith dialogue in culturally sensitive settings. DISCLAIMER: The views and opinions expressed in this podcast are those of the cast members and do not necessarily reflect the official position of Christ Community Church.

Join us for Missions Sunday as we explore how God is working through Christ Community Church's partnerships with Green City! Hear powerful stories of faith, prayer, and transformation from International Workers Eric and Krisy, who remind us that the fields are ripe for harvest. Now is the time to participate in God's global mission. Together, we can make an eternal impact!

Das Thema Lebensqualität hat für viele eine hohe Wichtigkeit. Neben Gesundheit und einer guten Work-Life-Balance spielen in diesem Kontext auch Faktoren wie Sicherheit, Mobilität und nicht zuletzt die Nachhaltigkeit eine entscheidende Rolle. Dass folglich eine Stadtplanung wichtig ist, die die Städte auch künftig lebenswert erhält liegt also auf der Hand. Wie aber kann man das schaffen? Lisa Popp und Sam Naeini sprachen mit dem Münchner Stadtrat und Leiter des Bereichs Mobilität bei Green City e.V. Andreas Schuster und Dr. Simone Linke, Professorin für Stadtplanung und Landschaft an der Hochschule Weihenstefan-Triesdorf.

Have you been to the Green City Market?? If you haven't, you should make a plan to go soon! They've been around for 25 years this year. We sat down with Mandy Moody of Green City market to tell us all about it. Also, tocelebrate, they are hosting their 25th annual Chef BBQ on September 25th. It's sure to be a great time. And we want you to come! Visit https://www.greencitymarket.org/chef-bbq to purchase your tickets and use code: 77FLAVORSBBQ  for $20 off!Hope to see you there! Also, enjoy this episode!Send us a Text Message.Support the Show.Check out our new merch!! https://www.77flavorschi.com/shopAlso, catch Dario on the new season of Netflix's "High On the Hog" here!!If you have anything you'd like us to talk about on the podcast, food or history, please email us at ⁠media@77flavorschi.com⁠ WATCH US ON YOUTUBE ⁠HERE⁠! Visit our website ⁠https://www.77flavorschi.com⁠ Follow us on IG: 77 Flavors of Chicago ⁠@77flavorschi⁠ Dario ⁠@i_be_snappin Sara @sarafaddah

Dan cracks the sixth and final brew from the Green City box, Other Half's Brooklyn Bustle, a Triple IPA decked out with many hops. Other… The post Episode # 372: Brooklyn Bustle appeared first on Life On Tap.

Dan cracks the fifth from the Green City box, OH's Phrenetic Philly, an Imperial IPA with Citra three ways plus Galaxy and Vista hops. Other… The post Episode # 370: Phrenetic Philly appeared first on Life On Tap.

Green City Market has zeroed in on a number of problems plaguing food distribution and accessibility in our city – and they've resolved to do something about it. Our guest this week, Mandy Moody, is the executive director behind many of these initiatives, supporting farmers in selling their products (without sacrificing a major cut), educating people about food sustainability, and working hard to make locally-grown food as accessible as possible. And beyond all of that, the market itself is a beautiful, community-driven testament to the power of combining good food with good people. Mandy is also just flat-out fun to talk to, in an episode that covers: the true cost of growing real food, the eternal struggle of getting kids to eat, and insight into September 5th's Chef BBQ event (as well as some practical tips for scoring the best possible bites).

Dan cracks the fourth from the Green City box, OH's Ludicruous Lakes, an Imperial IPA with Citra, Nelson Sauvin, and Pacific Sunrise hops. Other Half… The post Episode # 369: Ludicrous Lakes appeared first on Life On Tap.

Dan cracks the third from the Green City box, Other Half's Manahattan Mayhem, a Imperial IPA with hand selected Citra, Mosaic and HBC586. Other Half… The post Episode # 368: Manhattan Mayhem appeared first on Life On Tap.

Dan cracks the second from the Green City box, Other Half's Fabulous Falls, a hazy IPA with El Dorado, Motueka, Nectaron and Nectaron Cryo. Other… The post Episode # 367: Fabulous Falls appeared first on Life On Tap.

Dan split a Green City box with Dad On Tap, leading off with Other Half's Madcamp Monuments, a hazy IPA with Simcoe, Cashmere and Riwaka.… The post Episode # 366: Madcap Monuments appeared first on Life On Tap.

In 2011, the Philadelphia Water Department created the 25-year, $2.4 billion “Green City, Clean Waters” program to fix the city's aging sewer systems. However, even though the program has been nationally recognized for its innovative green infrastructure, it's turning out to be more costly than expected. Host Trenae Nuri speaks with Kyle Bagenstose, an independent environmental journalist, about these cost increases, and if the city needs a better plan to handle its sewage problems. Read Kyle's full story on the “Green City, Clean Waters” program here.  Learn more about the “Green City, Clean Waters” program, and how you can get involved. Want some more Philly news? Then make sure to sign up for our morning newsletter Hey Philly. We're also on Twitter and Instagram! Follow us @citycastphilly. Have a question or just want to share some thoughts with the team? Leave us a voicemail or send us a text at 215-259-8170. Interested in advertising with City Cast? Find more info here. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Fluent Fiction - Hebrew: Discovery at Jaffa Port: The Secret Green City Beneath Find the full episode transcript, vocabulary words, and more:fluentfiction.org/discovery-at-jaffa-port-the-secret-green-city-beneath Story Transcript:He: ליאורה, יצחק ונועם עמדו על המזח בנמל יפו.En: Liora, Yitzhak, and Noam stood on the dock at the Jaffa port.He: השמש התחילה לשקוע, והאור הכתום צבע את הים בכחול עמוק.En: The sun began to set, and the orange light painted the sea a deep blue.He: ליאורה אמרה, "שמעתם על השמועה?En: Liora said, "Have you heard the rumor?He: יש עיר סודית מתחת לנמל.En: There's a secret city under the port."He: "יצחק גיכח, "זה רק סיפור.En: Yitzhak scoffed, "That's just a story.He: אין דבר כזה.En: There's no such thing."He: "נועם חשב לרגע ואחר כך אמר, "מה אם נבדוק?En: Noam thought for a moment and then said, "What if we check it out?"He: "שלושתם ירדו למזח והתחילו לבדוק.En: The three of them descended to the dock and began looking around.He: אחרי חיפוש קצר, ליאורה צעקה, "הנה!En: After a short search, Liora shouted, "Here!He: דלת קטנה מאחורי הערימה הזאת!En: A small door behind this pile!"He: "הם פתחו את הדלת.En: They opened the door.He: גרם מדרגות ירד למעטה.En: A staircase led downwards.He: הם הלכו בזהירות למטה.En: They carefully went down.He: למטה הם מצאו עיר מדהימה.En: At the bottom, they found an amazing city.He: הבתים היו עשויים מאבן בהירה, והכל הואר באור ירוק ונעים.En: The houses were made of light stone, and everything was illuminated with a pleasant green light.He: יצחק התכווץ, "זה מדהים!En: Yitzhak shrank back, "This is incredible!He: איך זה עובד?En: How does it work?"He: "ליאורה הצביעה על מערכות מורכבות על הקירות.En: Liora pointed at the complex systems on the walls.He: "זה טכנולוגיה מתקדמת.En: "It's advanced technology.He: הכל מופעל על ידי אנרגיית שמש ומים.En: Everything is powered by solar and hydro energy."He: "נועם הרים כלי מסוים.En: Noam picked up a certain device.He: "זה מייצר חשמל ממי הים!En: "This generates electricity from the seawater!He: עיר בת קיימא.En: A sustainable city."He: "יצחק לא יכול להאמין.En: Yitzhak couldn't believe it.He: "אז הסיפורים נכונים.En: "So the stories are true.He: יש כאן משהו גדול.En: There's something big here."He: "הם הלכו לעומק העיר.En: They ventured deeper into the city.He: פגשו קבוצת אנשים שעבדו על מכונות מבריקות.En: They met a group of people working on gleaming machines.He: אחת מהן התקרבה ואמרה, "ברוכים הבאים.En: One of them approached and said, "Welcome.He: נשמח להראות לכם.En: We'd be happy to show you around."He: "ליאורה שאלה, "איך אף אחד לא יודע עליכם?En: Liora asked, "How does no one know about you?"He: "האישה חייכה.En: The woman smiled.He: "אנחנו כאן הרבה שנים, עובדים על טכנולוגיות ירוקות.En: "We've been here many years, working on green technologies.He: זה מקום סודי.En: It's a secret place."He: "בוצע סיור מלהיב בעיר, ולמדו על הדרכים השונות לשימוש באנרגיה טבעית.En: They had an exciting tour of the city, learning about the various ways to use natural energy.He: אחרי שעות רבות, עלו למעלה עם הרגשה של סיפוק וידע חדש.En: After many hours, they ascended with a feeling of satisfaction and new knowledge.He: יצחק הביט בנוף העירוני ואמר, "אנחנו חייבים לספר לכולם.En: Yitzhak looked at the urban landscape and said, "We have to tell everyone.He: העולם צריך לדעת על זה.En: The world needs to know about this."He: "נועם הנהן.En: Noam nodded.He: "אבל נזכור לשמור על סודיות המקום כדי שאפשר להמשיך לעבוד עליו בשקט.En: "But we must remember to keep the location secret so that work can continue quietly."He: "ליאורה נפרדה מהעיר במבט אחרון ואמרה, "זה העתיד.En: Liora bid the city a final glance and said, "This is the future."He: "הם חזרו לעולם שמעל עם מחשבות על עתיד ירוק וטוב יותר.En: They returned to the world above with thoughts of a greener and better future.He: ההרפתקה בנמל יפו רק התחילה.En: The adventure at the Jaffa port had just begun. Vocabulary Words:dock: מזחport: נמלrumor: שמועהscoffed: גיכחdescended: ירדוstaircase: גרם מדרגותilluminated: הוארshrunk: התכווץadvanced technology: טכנולוגיה מתקדמתsystems: מערכותpowered: מופעלsolar energy: אנרגיית שמשhydro energy: אנרגיית מיםdevice: כליgenerate: מייצרsustainable: בת קיימאventured: הלכוgleaming: מבריקותurban landscape: נוף עירוניfuture: עתידengaged: עוסקיםnatural energy: אנרגיה טבעיתsatisfaction: סיפוקgreen technologies: טכנולוגיות ירוקותventure: הרפתקהcomplex: מורכבותincredible: מדהיםunbelievable: לא יכול להאמיןseawater: מי היםquietly: בשקטBecome a supporter of this podcast: https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/fluent-fiction-hebrew--5818690/support.

Are there reasons to doubt  the conventional wisdom of greenery as the cure-all for urban ills. What are the roots of the Garden City movement, and how has the reality of it been different than the theory?Des Fitzgerald is a professor of medical humanities and social sciences at University College Cork Ireland, and also the author of a recent book titled, The Living City: Why Cities Don't Need to Be Green to Be Great. (released in the UK with a different title: The City of Today is a Dying Thing.Greg and Des discuss how urban landscapes aren't just about aesthetics; they're intricately linked to our national identity and cognitive functions. Des helps us uncover how architecture influences our sense of place and impacts our brains, and explores the role of culture in shaping our environmental perceptions. The conversation spans everything from peat briquettes to Georgian-style facades. Des also guides us through an enlightening discussion on the burgeoning field of medical humanities and the innovative concept of green social prescribing within the NHS.*unSILOed Podcast is produced by University FM.*Episode Quotes:The transformative shift in environmental neuroscience39:32: Something that is becoming really interesting in this space is the emergence of environmental neuroscience, as I think a relatively new, increasingly interesting, and powerful discipline. Environmental neuroscience exists for a whole bunch of reasons, but certainly the increasing sense that we're able to take a brain measure while a person moves around the space in three dimensions. That's, I think it's something that can be done imperfectly now. It's still very much in progress, but at least we have a horizon in which that's going to become pretty possible at kind of high-resolution research grade relatively soon. And that is transformative, actually, if the three dimensions of a space become truly available as a variable for brain measurement. Then something does happen, and something does change in that moment.What's wrong with planting a lot of trees?43:13: What concerns me about urban tree planting is what we're not talking about when we're talking about urban trees, right? So the amount of social and public problems that trees are meant to solve is ridiculous. It's everything from mental health to youth crime to skills in some parts of England, where they're planting trees in an English town because it's like the people of the town have low skills for some reason. It just seems to go for not tackling boring social problems, right? So, for instance, it's very real that there are major mental health problems in cities. I think there is something very serious about the way we have constructed the contemporary city—that it has bad effects for lots of people.We need to stop centering urban discourse on charismatic megafauna of global urbanism45:37: We need to stop centering urban discourse on the kind of charismatic megafauna of global urbanism, right? And look at the kind of, what I would genuinely call the crap cities, right? The kind of second-tier, slightly stronger places, like places like Cork, Cardiff in Wales, where I used to live. I'm not sure what your go-to North American examples would be, but I'm still in those kinds of, like, lower-tier, maybe Poughkeepsie, Peoria, these kinds of places. That's your kind of modular urban experience, I think. And those are places I think we need to take much more seriously culturally and socially.Interdisciplinarity in medical humanities49:09: I think what folks in the field are trying to do is do something a little bit more collaborative and a little bit more imaginative, and not just have the philosopher who will sign off your ethics forms, but try to think seriously about how philosophy can inform experimental design. How philosophical work can itself be informed by stuff that's happening in biology and the life sciences. I'm trying to really get at the kind of complex space between those things where you're doing work that is not quite humanities or science but some kind of magic third thing.Show Links:Recommended Resources:Le CorbusierGarden city movementFrederick Law OlmstedEbenezer HowardJohn MuirPlan VoisinEdwin LutyensPort SunlightWilliam LeverSamuel SmilesNeomEdward C. TolmanGeorges-Eugène HaussmannNapoleon IIIMedical humanitiesWellcome TrustGuest Profile:Faculty Profile at University College CorkHis Work:Amazon Author PageThe City of Today is a Dying ThingThe Living City: Why Cities Don't Need to Be Green to Be GreatThe Urban Brain: Mental Health in the Vital CityRethinking Interdisciplinarity across the Social Sciences and NeurosciencesGoogle Scholar Page

Today on the podcast, we welcome Dallas Green from City and Colour and Alexisonfire. I've had the pleasure of working with him over the years and he helped shape who I am. We got to catch up about emo, what Elliott means to him, Canadian bands you should check out, who has been lost, and what he's looking forward to. Thank you for listening and thanks to all at Dine Alone team for helping make this happen.  Photo credit: Vanessa Heins Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Green City Force is an AmeriCorps program that prepares young adults who reside in New York City Housing (NYCHA), or low-income housing in NYC for careers through Green Service.  Our guest is Executive Director Tonya Gayle, who has spent her career in non-profit organizations focused on economic justice for young people of color.  For more, visit GreenCityForce.Org.

Welcome back to another informative episode of "Your Mouth Matters!" We invite you into the world of holistic and comprehensive dental care with a special 'meet the practitioner' segment. Today, we have the pleasure of introducing an exceptional guest from Green City Dental – the meticulous and knowledge-hungry hygienist Vonna, alongside the amazing Dr. Taylor, to share her unique approach to dental hygiene. Say goodbye to the rush-and-go cleanings of insurance-driven practices, and hello to a transformative dental experience. At Green City Dental, it's not just about checking boxes; it's about educating patients with dedication and care. Vonna and Dr. Taylor share their perspectives on why taking the time to dive deep into each patient's oral health history is essential, and how their office operates more like a fitness trainer for your mouth — offering insight, direction, and unwavering support. In today's episode, you'll hear personal stories from Vonna about her journey from a young intern to a hygiene virtuoso with a passion for the finer details. We'll also explore the high-paced world that dental hygienists navigate, and how Vonna and Taylor break the mold, focusing on long-term patient education and health rather than fleeting appointments. Join us as we delve into the interconnectedness of oral care with overall health, learn about the comprehensive and tailored patient experiences at Green City Dental, and discover how combining enthusiasm for learning and a genuine relationship with patients makes all the difference in dental care. There's a lot to unpack here, so tune in, get comfy, and let's talk about why 'Your Mouth Matters'!

This week on The DeCesare Group Podcast, join Jim DeCesare and Bowling Green City Commissioner, Sue Parrigin as they discuss the proposed Mental Health drop-in facility for Bowling Green, KY. Commissioner Parrigin is part of a 32-person leadership committee dedicated to seeing this one-of-a-kind facility come to fruition and she will give us an update on the progress with this important initiative. For more about the proposed Mental Health drop-in facility click here.If you enjoy The DeCesare Group Podcast, leave us a review, and to learn more about The DeCesare visit our website, https://www.thedecesaregroup.com/.

Praying for a warrior's death.A 5-part story By Blind_Justice & Loqui Sordida Ad Me. Listen to the Podcast at Explicit Novels.Debon, far to the north, was a land of harsh winters and mild summers, ice and snow yielding to fields of wildflower and rye. The dichotomous climate bred stout warriors who were quick to anger, but stalwart allies if you managed to befriend them. Their grudges were legendary, as were tales of their bravery.Joras moaned. All of this, Ambrose had taught him, along with a smattering of their language.The artist tapped his chest. It took him several tries until he managed to string coherent words together. “I am Joras. You are far from your shores, friend.”Aelric muttered something incoherent, then, louder: “You are, real?” On hands and knees, the stinking, blood-smeared man scrabbled closer, his almost-skeletal hand topped by cracked fingernails. He reached for Joras’ face. “You are real?”Joras stopped Aelric’s hand and clasped it with his own. “Yes. I am no ghost.” The limb seemed fragile, shaking in his loose grasp like a storm-tossed branch. “What are you doing here?”Aelric wheezed. It dawned on Joras that he had tried to laugh. "Dying.“Joras shook his head. "I mean, in this land. Why are you here?”Aelric groaned. His mouth moved, as if he was chewing on his words. Then he said. "Adventurer. Explorer.“"Did you come here alone?”Aelric shook his head. "Longship. My, longship. Storm blew us off-course. Reef damaged the ship. Needed repairs, so we-“ He coughed."You could land safely? Our ship was destroyed.”Aelric nodded. Behind the mask of grime and blood, Joras spotted a re-emerging intelligence in the other prisoner’s pale blue eyes. "While gathering material, met Unami.“ He hugged himself, his face distorted in a primeval mask of longing. "She saw our ship, wanted to leave island. Taught much about the jungle. One night, she came, my tent and, ” He sighed, then made a lewd gesture.“You love this Unami?”Another nod. "Very much. Kind, gentle. Wild!“ He gestured again, a lopsided smile on his face. "One day, Unami said, ‘need to go back to tribe’.” He sniffled. "Did not say why. When she went, I followed.“Joras began to understand. "You got caught?” He mimicked firing a blow dart.Aelric nodded.“They kept you here?”Another nod. "Elders came and asked questions. So many questions.“ Thick tears dribbled down his nose. "Questions and beatings. And suddenly, they did not come any more. They forgot about me.”“How long…” Joras began.Aelric shook his head. “Forgot to count,” he moaned. “My men never came. Told them to wait a month, then come looking every solstice. They never came.” A shuddering sob tore from his chest.“Perhaps they are wary of the jungle,” Joras said.Aelric didn’t listen. “They did not come!” he groaned, pounding the unyielding floor, tears and snot flying from his face as he cried, self-built bulwarks breaking in the presence of another living soul.The agony in Joras’ chest was a mere pinprick compared to the abyss Aelric wallowed in. The Debonite’s sobs and howls spoke of betrayal and loss, of the imminent spectre of death, icy claws reaching for Aelric’s soul, tied as it was to his feeble, broken frame.Joras cursed softly. His pack was still where he had dropped it, in the temple’s grand hall. He undid the tattered remains of his cloak and shuffled close to Aelric, pulling the weeping and shaking man into a gentle embrace, dabbing at his tear-streaked face. Like a drowning man, Aelric clung to his body as he wept.It took Aelric some time to find his composure. He used the sullied orange cloth to wipe snot off his nose. “They never came,” he whispered.“We will make it out of here,” Joras said with conviction.Aelric laughed. “You might. I won’t.”Joras shook his head. “You’ve survived this long. Hold out just a little longer. I have friends outside. They will come. Tsonia will come.”Aelric gazed at him. “They never come. And even if they did, I am already dead, Joras. I can feel the Reaper walking behind me. My body has suffered enough.”“Don’t you want to find your Unami?” Joras pleaded. “She has to be in the village somewhere!”“She probably does not even know I am here,” Aelric muttered. An idea lit up his face. “Now that you are here, please do me a favor.”“If I can,” Joras said, hugging the stinking man close.“Kill me.”As if slapped by a giant, Joras recoiled. “No!”Aelric’s hands dug into his shoulders like brittle claws. “Joras, I want a clean death. A warrior’s death. There is no honor in wasting away like this.”“Don’t talk like that!” Joras barked. “I have just killed one of the finest men I ever knew. I will not sully my conscience with another death, do you understand?” He shook the bleary-eyed prisoner. “You will hold out for a few more hours, then we will find your Unami and we all leave this thrice-cursed island together!”Death Inevitable had never known such sacrilege. The outsider claimed to be a god; perhaps he was. Death Inevitable knew the outsider could compel his people to obey. He recalled the orders and instructions now that the Sleeper had restored his memory of time lost to the outsider’s whims. He did not know how the outsider possessed such power, but he could not deny that he did. Perhaps the outsider was a god.But this was the Sleeper’s temple, and the Sleeper was a greater god than the outsider. The Sleeper had freed Death Inevitable from the outsider’s control, and Death Inevitable had repaid that miracle with this blasphemy. Death Inevitable had invited the outsider into this sanctum, because while the outsider still held his people in thrall, Death Inevitable did not see any other way.May the Sleeper forgive him.This sacred chamber was meant to be dark and quiet and still. But the outsider wanted light so that his bride could see, and music so that his bride could dance, and food so that his bride could feast. Never had so many crowded into this space, all at the outsider’s command and without question. Drummers played rhythms of revelry and celebration. The tribe’s most fertile women stood naked, bearing platters of fruit and roasted meats, or jars of fermented juice.The stone doors, normally sealed fast against the uninitiated, stood wide awaiting the arrival of their so-called god. In the dancing light of lamps and candles and braziers, shadows played along the ancient carvings on the wall, giving frowns and scowls of disapproval to the monstrous visages of the frieze. In the center of the floor a hasty altar of reeds and sinew had been erected, covered with the finest cloth the tribe could spin. Upon it sat a jug of blessed water and a dozen candles.And Death Inevitable was there too.A sudden commotion at the doors heralded the arrival of the outsider and his fire-haired bride, escorted by Serpent and followed by the two heaviest and clumsiest men of the tribe bearing long hunting spears. The outsider had decided they were intimidating.“You have done well, Skull-face,” the outsider said, looking around at the assemblage. “Your god is pleased.”Death Inevitable did not understand the words in the outsider’s language, but it was part of the outsider’s magic that all who saw his eyes understood his intent and desire innately. Thanks be to the Sleeper, Death Inevitable no longer felt compelled to act on those desires. He muttered a silent prayer that Serpent remained free as well.There was an almost imperceptible flinch in the bride. Death Inevitable recognized the sensation of waking from one of the outsider’s orders with no memory of what had transpired. The bride had his sympathy. The guards prodded her to walk forward.Serpent ushered the new arrivals to the center of the room and bid them kneel at the altar.“I do not kneel before anyone,” growled the outsider. “Others kneel before me. All of you, kneel before me.”The gathered host knelt, and Death Inevitable and Serpent knelt with them. Only the guards remained on their feet, spearpoints at the ready.“Now Tsonia, my dear, if I remove your bonds, will you behave?” the outsider asked his bride.“Of course, your grace,” the bride answered. This brought a smile to the outsider’s face.“You lie,” he said and the smile vanished. “Mere moments ago I compelled you for the truth. You told me then that you would punch me in the throat to silence my voice and then kill me slowly with my own blade, Of course you’ve already forgotten.”The bride struggled against the fetters that bound her wrists to her narrow waist and glared at the outsider. “If you must have my obedience in this travesty, why not just compel it from me?”“Because, my beloved.” The outsider took her chin in his hand and forced her to look into his eyes. “I want you to remember it. For all the days of your life, I want you to remember that you are mine completely, body, mind, and soul.”The bride relented. She closed her eyes and bowed her head.“Skull-face, Snake-face, let’s get on with it,” the outsider commanded, his mood brightening again. “Begin the ceremony. My marital bed awaits.”The elders stood and took their places at two of the three pillars. Condor’s pillar remained vacant, but the outsider did not seem to notice or care.Death Inevitable raised his arms in benediction, and in a strong voice called out “Let all those who here gathered bear witness to this,”“In real words, please,” sighed the outsider.Death Inevitable began again in the simple words shared by outsiders. “We see these two. Two flames become one flame. Two waters become one water. In the name of our god who is called Kelgore, these two become one. I have said this.”And with those final words, the couple were wed. Serpent turned and depressed the tongue of the effigy carved into the pillar at his back, and the outsider, his bride, and their altar tumbled into the darkness below.Down they fell with arms and legs flailing, reeds snapping, candles guttering as the mirror-smooth stone guided their twisted, careening path into the temple depths. Kelgore and Tsonia both were battered and winded by the time they finally came to rest in a warm chamber, the air heavy with an exotic fragrance.Tsonia found herself sprawled atop her new husband, the heat of his bare thigh between her legs. A desperate need had awakened, and even her revulsion for the man could not stop her hips from gyrating on their own, grinding her throbbing clitoris against his skin.“Is this what it is to be under your sway, Despoiler?” she asked. Her wrists still bound, she pushed her weight on her ample chest to find the leverage to satisfy her mad desire. “Do your women curse you and berate you even as they do your vile bidding?”“Enough, woman!" Kelgore protested, heaving Tsonia’s weight off of him and rising to his feet. "Can’t you see that we are betrayed?”Finding a single candle with its flame still asputter, Kelgore lit another and held it to the steeply pitched plane that dumped them so unceremoniously to the floor.“Skull-face!” he shouted up at the shadowed ceiling high above, “Can you hear me? Let us out of here now, Skull-face! Your god commands you!”Tsonia heard the odd timbre in Kelgore’s voice, knew he was exercising his foul power, and didn’t care. The heady perfume in her nose had her head swimming with lust. A lust that Kelgore seemed uninterested in satiating. She hiked her chainmail skirt to her waist and strained against her fibrous cuffs to stretch her fingers between her legs.“They can’t hear you, you great bombastic oaf!” she snarled. “We’ve fallen too far. Now open those robes and take me, dammit! If I can’t choke the life out of you, I’ll fuck you to death if I have to.”“Not now, damn you!" Kelgore snapped, panic rising in his voice. "Guards! Kill the shamans! Do you hear me? Kill the shamans and release me!”“Damn you, Kelgore!” Tsonia spat, rolling onto her stomach and tucking her knees beneath her to better reach her ravenous cunt. “Why do you compel such passion in me then? If you’re not going to fuck me, release me from this damned desire!”“This is not my doing!” Kelgore turned on Tsonia. “Whatever lascivious desire you, Oh, gods.”He dropped the candle and it rolled across the floor throwing flickering light into the darkness. Tsonia looked up and saw before her a mass of writhing, outstretched tendrils of flesh, as if dozens of great serpents had been flayed alive and bound at their tails. The thing was enormous, towering above them, half hidden in the shadows.“What hell released such a thing?” cried Kelgore, his terror all too clear.Tsonia’s mind reeled at the impossibility of what her eyes beheld. If the creature was one or a multitude together, she could not tell. The many arms wriggled and swayed in the most unnerving way as they drew nearer from every angle.The first foul tendril prodded Kelgore and he smacked it away, warning the alien monstrosity to stay back. A second tentacle began to curl around his arm. Tsonia saw him draw the knife at his belt and stab the horrid appendage.The grotesque abomination withdrew with a sudden spasm and a rapid clacking noise, as if pain was a concept it had rarely known. Seizing the moment of opportunity, Kelgore knelt by Tsonia’s side and sawed at her stout tethers with his blade.“We must escape, Tsonia!” he hissed. “We have to find a way out toge, Gchk!”Snapping the final fraying strands that bound her, Tsonia jabbed an elbow into Kelgore’s throat, silencing his infernal tongue for good.She disarmed him with a brutal twist of his wrist, letting his knife clatter to the stone floor. Even as her desire flowed down her thighs, Tsonia stood, took Kelgore by his broken throat, and stared into the abyss of his sable eyes.“I know you desire to live, Despoiler,” she fumed in a smoldering whisper. “I see it in your eyes as plainly as writing on a page. But I will not be compelled to save you.”Taking his belt in her other hand, Tsonia hefted the man who would be a god over her head and hurled him gasping and wheezing into the foul tangle of arms. Like a nest of vipers, they slithered over and around his arms and legs and body, tittering with squeals of expectation, tearing away his robes and raiment, holding him aloft even as he struggled and thrashed against their restraint.Kelgore’s legs were spread by the tendrils of flesh that bound him, allowing another tentacle to embed itself into his rectum, probing deeper as he tried to scream through a crushed larynx. Yet another of the fleshy things snaked into his open mouth and down his tortured throat.In the candle light, Tsonia saw the horror in his eyes, knew the terror he felt as his body was invaded and immobilized. She felt his helplessness, and in the warm air thick with alien fragrance, she masturbated furiously as he suffered.A bead of sweat fell from her forehead and Tsonia shed her short hauberk to free her swelling tits in the still and tepid air. It was madness, she knew, but some sorcery had unleashed within her a hunger that would not be denied. Her fingers worked with reckless frenzy between her weeping folds.The terror and pain in Kelgore’s demonic eyes redoubled, and Tsonia watched in growing horror as the villain’s chest and stomach began to convulse, sputter, and steam. Kelgore’s flesh melted away like fat dripping into a fire and his bones softened to putty as the tentacled beast ejaculated acid into his bowels. The doomed man screamed in ghastly silence as death took his body inch by horrible inch.With a shudder of divine ecstasy, Tsonia came as Kelgore’s face and skull dissolved away into a viscous treacle.Still her fingers worked fervently between her slick thighs and she unlaced the chainmail kilt that pinched her hips and waist. The tendrils of the fell creature continued to ooze its acid over what meat remained on Kelgore’s arms and legs, while other probosci slurped up the syrupy remains like a swarm of great insects. Despite her revulsion at the horror unfolding in front of her, her desperate lust remained unsated and she fought for her sanity with all her failing will.“Kelgore is dead!” Tsonia screamed up at the ceiling. "Skull-face? T'pek? Can anybody hear me?“In the dim candle’s light, she saw no way out of the chamber, but most of it was still hidden in shadow. Lighting another half dozen fallen candles cast more illumination on the grizzly feast, but did little to stretch the light beyond its original bounds.Dripping with arousal, Tsonia stood on wobbly legs, took up a candle, and followed the wall away from the great tentacled horror, hoping to find some exit while it ate.The copper haired vixen had gone no more than a dozen steps when she felt the touch of the alien being’s appendage on her back, caressing her spine and tracing down the curve of her ass with a gentle purr. The thing was warm and soft but firm, not the wormy sensation she dreaded, and it sent a shiver through her soul that poured from her reinvigorated loins.Tsonia dropped the candle and fell to her knees, sobbing with need as both hands cupped her swollen sex and ground against her yearning clit. The strange scent of the exotic fragrance grew more intense, and Tsonia found her need growing apace.Tendrils of the foul thing caressed her bare shoulders and thighs and she did not find it unpleasant. Indeed, she found herself taking one of the hot, sinuous organs in her hand and guiding it to her chest where it curled around her heavy breast in a way that made her moan with pleasure. It purred again, mimicking her in response."No, no, no, no, no…” Tsonia murmured in faint protest as a tentacle gently snaked around her throat and up to caress her cheek. Another probed into the gap between her feet and calves. She felt it moving through the cleft of her ass, against her wet and tumescent lips and curling up towards her belly.“Oh, gods, It’s going to eat me!” she gasped, as she rocked her hips back and forth over the meaty shaft between her knees, grinding her engorged clit against its heat. “And I’m going to let it…”Her body rebelled against reason and she leaned forward, exposing her ravenous nethers to the creature’s curling, slithering affection. With her own hand she guided a tendril to her waiting cunt and gasped with delight as it penetrated her.“Yes, yes! Fuck that cunt,” she moaned. “Fill me and make me cum before I die, please!”A trilling call answered her. The alien horror coiled a trio of tentacles around her thighs and ankles, spreading her wide, as a fourth pressed through her anus and probed her ass.Tsonia cried out in bliss at the way her body was stretched and filled. More and more tentacles found purchase, seizing her arms and spreading her wide, exposing all of her to the beast’s gentle exploration. The dexterous appendages fondled her hips and ribs, groped at her tits, caressed her face and shoulders.She was raised off the floor, suspended in the warm, fragrant air and despite being held so firmly in the weird thing’s clutches, Tsonia had never felt so free. No bed of feathers nor sheets of silk had ever left her so exposed to sensation from every angle. Every inch of her body tingled with the touch of this miraculous thing that would be her death.Tsonia wailed in orgasm again and her body shook and trembled as her brain tried to reconcile the terrifying euphoria that gripped her.“Again!” she cried out when her voice returned. She bucked her hips in desperation to push the remarkable tentacles deeper. “Don’t stop! Please, don’t stop! Kill me if you must. Consume me if you must. But by the gods, do not stop fucking me! I would die this death a thousand times!”She felt the weight of a soft appendage writhing its way up between her tits and Tsonia opened her mouth wide in invitation. The tendril accepted, filling her mouth, delving down her throat.Whether this creature was demon or angel or something else entirely, Tsonia could not guess, but it filled her and touched her in ways no lover ever had. Not even Q'alan, the great ram-headed demon, had known her so intimately.The phallic flesh that filled her expanded and contracted, it swelled and waned in delicious counterpoint to her own gasping breath and strangled cries of delirium. Deeper than any man, with a supple manipulation within her that was alien to anything mortal woman had ever known, the whorls of flesh aroused her desire to heights yet unreached. And still Tsonia craved more.The gentle purring intensified, lowering in pitch until it became an undulating thrum of a growl. It set her nerves aflame. Tsonia could feel the vibration of the humming flesh against her skin and deep within her body. The titillating and trembling sensation wracked her with mad convulsions the likes of which she’d never known. The orgasm ravished her to her soul as sanity fled and she tumbled into an impossible dream of infinite frenzied copulation.The horrid appearance of the tentacled thing, the fear of agonizing death, the shame of failure and loss, all of these were forgotten.In the void of her fervent mind, nothing at all existed beyond her body and the tumultuous chaos of carnal sensation that consumed her. There was no inch of her, no nerve of her body that did not spasm with ecstasy.Tsonia could not wish for the impossible euphoria to continue because she could not believe it would end, nor could she remember a time before. All of creation began with an eruption from the deepest, most intimate core of her being and expanded out in never ending waves to the tips of her fingers, the tips of her toes, the end of every glorious lock of hair.She became aware of her breathing first, deep, heaving gasps of air to fill her lungs. The gaping emptiness inside of her was next, and instinctively she rocked her hips to flex muscle and flesh back into a more comfortable shape. Then she realized she was laying on cold stone tiles, and pushed herself up to look around.The candles still burned. They were shorter than they had been, but she could not say by how much and she had no other way to judge how much time had passed. She was dripping with sweat, her hair hanging lank in wet tresses. Perhaps that was why she felt a growing chill in the room. The alien fragrance was fading as well, and the cold scent of volcanic stone filled each breath.Her strange and horrifying yet somehow exquisite lover was there, just at the edge of the candle light. The long tendrils that had given her such unknown pleasure were still now, wrapped tightly around each other in a great ball, thrice as tall as she.The whole, pale-skinned mass expanded and contracted in the slow and steady rhythm of slumber.“Well isn’t that just typical,” Tsonia groused, as she went in search of her clothes.The unfamiliar chamber was awash with chaos and confusion. Hunters demanded answers from the elders. The womenfolk worried about their whelps. None understood how they had come to this place, or even where this place was. T'pek shared in their confusion, but he knew that his fire-haired mate and the one she called Kelgore, were the keys to the mystery.Death Inevitable, grasping a ceremonial staff, rapped the wooden shaft on the tiles, once, twice, three times, the sharp cracks shocking all into silence.“All will be made clear,” the elder called out to the stilled crowd. “For now, know that you were sick, but the sickness has passed. Your friends and families outside are just as confused as you are. They too were sick, but their sickness has passed as well. I ask you all to go to them and spread that message to every ear. 'You were sick, but your sickness has passed.’ Calm their fears, restore order, and trust that all will be made clear very soon.”“Please,” he said, gesturing towards the great stone doors that stood open at the back of the room. “There is much work to be done. I beg of you, leave this place and have patience while we divine the whole story and all of the answers you seek.”The chamber was filled again with chatter, but a semblance of order fell over the throng and at last they began to filter out towards the temple above and the village beyond until only T'pek remained. He surveyed the strange chamber as if it were a hunting trail and the elders some particularly troublesome prey. (1)“There is nothing here for you, hunter,” Death Inevitable hissed. “Go back to the others. There is work to be done.”“I know of the outsider called Kelgore,” T'pek stated without preamble. “I know of the woman with hair the color of fire. She is my mate, and I will know what has happened to her.”“She shares the same fate the accursed, black-eyed outsider suffered,” Serpent whispered. “I’m sorry. You will not see her again. Now, go back to the others.”“What fate?” T'pek asked, his claws hissing from their sheaths. He found Serpent’s answer deliberately vague and dismissive. “There is more you are not telling me, but I will not be dismissed so easily.”Death Inevitable placed his paw on Serpent’s shoulder. “Brother. This might be an opportunity,” the elder clad in the golden skull mask whispered. “We have lost Condor after all.”“Ah,” Serpent hissed. “Your wisdom, as always, eclipses mine.” To T'pek, he said “There are secrets the elders must keep, hunter. To know those secrets is to know why they must be so. The fate of the outsiders is one such secret.”“Our brother Condor died while under the outsider’s spell,” Death Inevitable continued, laying a hand upon T'pek’s shoulder. “We find ourselves in need of another elder, and soon.”“You are eldest among the Hunters, are you not, T'pek?” Serpent asked. "Wisest and most skilled of your peers? You are certainly worthy of elevation.“"We offer you a great honor,” Death Inevitable said. “But know that it also is a great burden. Consider it carefully.”“You will never again leave the village to roam the hunting trail or the beaches,” Serpent added. “Your life, what remains of it, will be spent serving the tribe in ways they can never understand.”“Perhaps it is better to go back to the hunt in blissful ignorance,” Death Inevitable concluded. “You can rest assured that your mate’s sacrifice was for the good of the tribe.”The back and forth between the two elders seemed intentional to T'pek, as if they meant to muddle his thoughts and confuse his reason. But to what end, he did not know. Were they trying to convince him to accept their invitation or to reject it? Or perhaps neither, but only to test his resolve.“I will know Red Tsonia’s fate, regardless of consequence,” he growled. “If I must give up the hunt and take up the gilded mask of Condor to be satisfied, so be it, I accept, now tell me your secrets!”“Calm yourself, hunter,” Death Inevitable said, touching his neck. “The understanding you seek will be conveyed through the rituals of ascension.”“Begin the ritual and be quick about it then!” T'pek spat. His patience was wearing thin and he was beginning to suspect treachery.“Calm and patience will serve you well, T'pek,” Serpent soothed. “Prepare your mind for inconceivable knowledge beyond the world you know. The ritual begins.”Serpent locked gazes with Death Inevitable, and at his nod, a pale, writhing tendril appeared from behind each elder, as if they had squirmed out from under the feathered headdresses. T'pek recoiled at the serpentine things that slithered about the elder’s shoulders, his noble visage distorted in terror and disgust.“What vile abomination is this?” he roared. His hand flew to his hips, only to find no dagger there. Like all the others who had been under Kelgore’s spell, he had only his fur.“We are caretakers of the Sleeper, and guardians of the tribe,” Serpent said, his arm intertwined with the pale-skinned, wormy appendage. “We protect our people from the wrath of the Sleeper. In turn the Sleeper protects us from the magics of outsiders. To know the Sleeper is to know the truth.”“This, This 'Sleeper’ you call it, It has changed you?” T'pek’s voice was hoarse with revulsion.“It must be so,” Death Inevitable intoned. “A bargain was struck, centuries ago, when the Sleeper allowed our ancestors to harbor him in the temple. Through his touch he speaks to us, and we to him. Thus has it been for generations beyond count.”“And through his touch, the Sleeper threw off the outsider’s evil magics,” Serpent whispered. “Praise be to him, the ancient pact remains strong.”A grim realization dawned on T'pek’s face. “It’s too late to change my mind now, isn’t it?”“We cannot have these secrets known.” Death Inevitable said. “You would be sorely missed, T'pek.”“What choice do I have then? I will know Red Tsonia’s fate.” T'pek’s shoulders slumped in resignation and he bowed his head to the elders. “Perform your ritual. I am ready.”Tsonia had paced the whole of the Sleeper’s lair twice over. Most of her candles had burned away and yet she had not found a means to escape the chamber. The only obvious way out was the slope, but it offered almost no purchase to climb. She had tried. She dared not call for help. While she did not know what to call the sleeping abomination that had so aroused her desire, she knew better than to wake it. Who knew how it would react to being roused from its slumber by the kind of racket it would take to be heard in the temple high above?Once more Tsonia paced carefully along the walls. The candle’s tiny flame sputtered suddenly, buffeted by a barely perceptible wisp of air. Perhaps there was a hollow nearby, maybe even a way out.Careful, as not to douse her last flame, Tsonia scratched at the seams in the ancient stonework with her knife. It was a testament to the antediluvian workmanship that the Vizingian blade was too thick to even wedge into the fine crack.A low rumble, felt through the air and stone more than heard, caught her attention. If it was the volcano, the sleeping thing, or something else, she could not tell. Fetching the candle, Tsonia cast an anxious gaze about the chamber, only to find the sleeping thing still curled up and at peace. Another rumble came, this time much closer, with the sound of stone on stone.The wall before her suddenly ground ajar on a hidden mechanism, a narrow gap illuminated by flickering firelight. When the rumbling stopped, there was just space enough to squeeze through sideways and Tsonia did so without hesitation.She emerged in another stone chamber lit by two torches mounted in gilded sconces. Mountains of treasure had been carelessly piled up, gold and silver, gemstones and sculptures, enough to satisfy any mortal desire. The torchlight danced and gamboled across the glittering hoard like Tsonia’s own heart at the sight of such riches.Almost lost against the incomprehensible wealth stood a robed beastkin. He wore an elaborate golden mask in the shape of a great bird and his tall, broad-shouldered body was draped in richly embroidered fabrics. He took a step forward and Tsonia stifled a startled gasp when she realized he wasn’t merely another bauble in the vault.“Who are you?” she asked warily. The stranger appeared unarmed, nor did he seem be hostile. On the contrary, there was something oddly familiar about its posture.“I am Condor, an elder of the tribe,” the stranger said, the golden beak granting the words of the Trade Tongue a hollow, distant quality. He manipulated a heavy lever.Behind her, the opening she had passed through ground closed again. Tsonia eyed Condor curiously. “Do I know you?”Condor hesitated, then shook his head. “Our god sleeps because of you. You are honored by us. You are free.” Bowing stiffly, the elder indicated another narrow gateway. Fresh night air, along with the rhythm of distant drums, seeped into the chamber.“I had a friend.” Tsonia reminded Condor. “A hunter took him away. Where is he?”“I know where.” The elder removed a heavy torch from its sconce and headed for the exit. “Follow.”Tsonia cast a longing gaze at the mountains of treasure. One armful, maybe even one choice pick, would be equal to the riches the God-King had offered as bounty for Kelgore. Without any proof of the Despoiler’s demise, there was every chance Xhastria’s divine ruler would weasel out of the bargain and then all the effort, and Ambrose’s death, would have been for naught.Sighing, Tsonia hurried after Condor. Stealing from the tribe would likely cause more grief, and she’d had her fill for one day.Outside, Condor waited patiently. When she cleared the narrow passage, he gestured. Above her, she heard the grinding of heavy stone. Perched upon a ledge, she saw two more elders manipulating ancient engravings. The stones behind her rumbled shut, barring any way back to the unfathomable riches hidden beyond.The village was bustling with life and light as Condor led her through ancient streets. Hunters eyed her curiously, some leaned in to sniff her scent. The females openly stared at her curves or whispered, pointing at her hips and ass. Other beastkin offered bows of respect as Condor approached. He led her to the outskirts, where few fires burned and the hodgepodge of ancient stone and recent woodwork became more ramshackle and dilapidated.Condor stopped in front of a heavy, barred door. “Here,” he said.Tsonia tossed the heavy bar aside and pulled the door open. The stench from inside was horrible, speaking of death and sickness. From the blackness within, she heard a relieved gasp.“Tsonia!" The voice was thick with emotion, but unmistakably Joras. "Tsonia! You’ve come at last!” The artist erupted in brittle laughter. “I told you she would come! I never doubted.”Tsonia took the torch from Condor and entered the cell.Joras struggled to his feet, weighed down by what appeared to be the corpse of an emaciated Debonite hanging off his shoulder, hair and beard and clothing all yellowed with grime.“Aelric needs help,” the artist gasped. "Medicine and food and, gods willing, a bath!“Only then did Tsonia notice the Debonite’s shallow, ragged breathing. She hurried to Joras’ side and gently took Aelric from him. It seemed to her that the man weighed less than a child."Who is your friend, Joras?” she asked as she carried him from the cell.“He’s called Aelric, and he’s a Debon princeling, although I haven’t worked out from which family,” Joras said. “But he has a ship returning for him at the next solstice!” A melancholy smile settled on his face. “We may yet escape from this thrice-cursed land, after all.”The God-King’s palace sat in the middle of Xhastria, a many-spired monument built of green brick and gilded columns, adorned with gem-studded roofs. The iron pikes on its battlements were adorned with the rotting, sun-bleached heads of the God-King’s many enemies lending a sinister air to the otherwise ethereal architecture.Tsonia, carrying a wooden case under one arm, ascended the steep stairs leading to the heavily guarded front gate. Joras glanced nervously at the towering gate guards. The polished, featureless visors of their helmets hid their eyes and made for a complex perspective. He hoped they wouldn’t object to his hastily capturing their form in his new sketchbook.“I am Red Tsonia, bringing the head of Kelgore the Despoiler,” Tsonia said, when the guards moved to challenge her approach.“You are expected,” one of the guards rumbled. The gate ground ajar, opening the way into the God-King’s palace.They entered a massive hall, four times as tall as a man and held up by columns shaped to look like men and women, all richly ornamented, each doing their part to hold aloft the viridian firmament above their heads.A white-robed scribe came to meet them, his bald head glistening with sweat. “What in the Pits took you so long?” he hissed. “It was a simple enough bounty!”Tsonia glared at him with the weight of Ambrose’s loss on her soul.“Nothing is simple when demon-kissers are involved,” she spat. “We were nearly drowned in a witch-storm, marooned on a savage island, and left defenseless to face an egomaniac whose magics and cruelty may have someday rivaled your own king’s.”“Yes, yes,” the functionary placated her, “only please don’t say such things out loud. The walls have ears you know.”“Fetching the God-King’s new bauble has cost me dearly. I ought to ask for more coin.”“So, this is it?” the scribe asked, looking at the box. Tsonia opened the lid and a faint whiff of death escaped. The scribe hurriedly covered his nose with his sleeve. He coughed, then muttered. “Well done indeed. The God King shall be pleased.”“He better be,” Tsonia growled. “Lead on already.”As the scribe hurried away, Joras laid a hand on her arm. “It is not too late to turn back, Kaela,” he whispered.Tsonia stared at him, jaw set in defiance. “Joras, what difference is one skull to another?” she hissed. “I saw Kelgore die. I saw his remains consumed. There was nothing left of him to bring back!”“Still, do you think this the wise course of action?” He glanced from side to side nervously. “The God-King does not easily suffer trickery.”“There is no trickery,” Tsonia insisted. “Kelgore is dead. That is truth. The skull is merely a symbol of that truth. The God-King will understand.”Joras sighed and shook his head. “You are not taking this seriously enough.” He hurried after the scribe.Tsonia fell into step next to him as they breezed through titanic corridors and extravagant salons, past bejeweled courtiers casually tormenting naked slaves, past the God-Kings concubines offering their unearthly delights, across sun-flooded terraces awash with exotic plants and artificial waterfalls, until they finally reached the heart of the palace and the enormous throne room of the God-King.Garbed in a simple white robe, wearing an elaborate crown of woven gold, Xhastria’s divine ruler was impressive to behold. He towered over his courtiers as an adult towers over a child. His features were flawless, as if chiseled by an unrivaled sculptor. Bands of muscle rippled under ebony skin hinting at a prowess that waited to be unleashed. Emerald eyes burned with astute radiance, each glance delving into the onlooker’s soul.He sat upon a towering throne made from bones and skulls inlaid in gold. Hundreds of courtiers mingled around the many-tiered dais the throne stood upon, all waiting in eagerness to be recognized and granted a moment of his holy time.According to tavern gossip, the God-King’s might stretched far beyond the mortal realm. It was said that he knew about everything that transpired within the farthest reaches of his demesne and farther. Yet none had seen him anywhere but seated upon his throne, always holding court. Some speculated that the opulent orgies and grisly torture chambers sustained him with life extracted from donors, willing and unwilling alike. Others were convinced that the viridian court had taken on a life of its own, that the God-King himself was no more than a puppet of his courtiers or some hidden cabal of demon-kissers.Few were ever granted audience with the God-King, and those who were rarely divulged their conversations.The sea of courtiers parted. Jewels glinted from pierced nipples and beringed cocks in the golden light spilling from the domed ceiling above. Elaborate masks gleamed and garish robes rustled as the courtiers made room for Tsonia and Joras. Exotic scents tantalized their nostrils as they walked the carpeted approach to the throne.“The lair of the beastkin god smelled better than this,” Tsonia whispered. “I miss the stench of Xhastria’s streets already.”“Shh. No need to turn the court against us,” Joras hissed.“Red Tsonia." The voice was everywhere. It echoed from the green walls. It boomed from the domed ceiling. It was in the shafts of light burning on their backs. And it was in their heads."Your Holiness.” Tsonia took a knee and bent her head in a rare gesture of submission. Joras went to both knees, prostrating himself. He hoped his arms would hide his nervous glances.“At last you have returned. Is it done?”“Yes. Kelgore is dead. I bring you his skull as tribute.” She nudged the wooden case.“Open it.”Tsonia hesitated for just a moment, then she pulled the lid open. Inside, on a simple linen cushion, rested a skull, all of the flesh stripped away down to bare bone.A low, foreboding rumble echoed through the majestic throne room. A dark cloud seemed to pass the sun, for the golden rays subsided, leaving the throne room in dim twilight.“This is not Kelgore’s skull,” the God-King proclaimed. “I do not see his obsidian eyes.”There was a chorus of gasps as every courtier took a step back.“Kelgore is dead,” Tsonia said again, with all the conviction she could muster. “I saw him die.”The silence inside the throne room was deafening. Then, a soft rustle of cloth from the throne. The God-King had risen. Every courtier in the hall sank to their knees, holding their hands above their heads, to ward off some as-of-yet unseen calamity.“Red Tsonia, repeat what I said when first we met,” the God-King said in the patient tones a parent uses when admonishing an unruly child.“You said 'bring me the skull of Kelgore the Despoiler,’” Tsonia replied defiantly. “But his skull was destroyed after much hardship and loss of, ”“Silence!" The force of the God-King’s voice cracked a pillar. The bust of a golden woman tumbled to the floor, crushing a dozen courtiers beneath its weight. Even maimed and dying, they dared not to scream."My orders are precise, with no room for interpretation. Were it otherwise, my demesne would have fallen to enemies from within and without centuries ago.” He sat down again. “I know of your trials and tribulations. I know of your loss. I have seen the Despoiler die by your hand. And yet, despite your best efforts, you have failed in your given task.”Tsonia did not dare to speak, yet her brow was heavy with rage.The God-King went on. “Had you admitted your failure, I might have granted you a measure of recompense. You did see to the Despoiler’s end after all. Your deeds will grant welcome reprieve for my beleaguered fishermen and their families.”The God-King raised his hand and he shouted a single word no mortal tongue could pronounce. A mote of liquid fire flew from his palm, engulfing the wooden case and setting it ablaze. Tsonia gritted her teeth against the infernal heat but refused to move, her gaze locked with the inscrutable being on the dais.“You tried to deceive me, Red Tsonia. Such heresy is punished by death.” Again, the God-King’s palm erupted in fiery radiance. “But today you find me in a merciful mood. Your deeds saw the Despoiler brought low. Instead of death, there shall be exile. Leave the Green Cities by sundown and dare not return until you have done due penance. Now begone from my sight.”With this dismissal, the mass of courtiers swelled around them, obscuring the throne and the God-King from view. Tsonia came to her feet, gnashing her teeth.“That’s it? All the heartbreak, all the hardship for naught?” she yelled. Her voice was drowned out by the thundering clamor of the gossiping throng.Joras clawed into her arm. “Let’s go already,” he hissed, pulling her towards the exit. “Or do you want to risk outright execution? It was noon already when we arrived!”“You were not party to his judgment, Joras.” Tsonia said mildly, reaching for her purse. “Take what I have and make yourself a peaceful life.” She walked by his side, head bowed in defeat. “I’ve caused you more than enough grief. You deserve better than to walk the deserts with me.”“Deserts?" Joras laughed softly. "I’ve heard Debon is a beautiful place any time of year. Deep forests, snow-covered tundra, towering mountain peaks. Would that not make a suitable backdrop to paint my muse?” He gestured towards the exit. “If we hurry, we might even catch Aelric and ask for passage before he and his men get themselves killed in whatever watering hole they found.”Tsonia chuckled. They passed a gilded door frame. Wails of ecstatic anguish poured from it. “You’re more of a glutton for punishment than those deluded fools. But who would I be if I rebuked my beloved chronicler and artist?”“Much less well known,” Joras retorted. “Come, the sun sinks low. We should hurry.”In a forgotten vestibule under the beastkin’s temple, covered by dust and cobwebs, Shala seethed.The End

Weddings & DiplomacyA 5-part story By Blind_Justice & Loqui Sordida Ad Me. Listen to the Podcast at Explicit Novels.“Joras, are you alright?”“Yes, Yes, I think so,” the artist panted. “T'pek gave me a healing poultice, At least, I hope that’s what it was.” He scrabbled for the water skin on his back, only to find the leather vessel torn and almost empty. Desperately, he licked water droplets from his fingers.“A camp is close,” T'pek said. “Food and water are there. Can you walk?”Joras pulled apart his torn pant leg. It was blood-soaked, but the skin underneath was unbroken and whole. "By my brushes! It worked,“ the artist gasped. T'pek growled happily. "Ambrose, you should fill a ship’s hold with these things. You’d make a fortune if they didn’t taste like death itself,” he added in Thelyrian.He looked up at Tsonia kneeling over the sea captain and went pale. “Oh, dear…”Tsonia offered a horrible, bloody smile. “I had to go back for him. The old fool was debating fate with the gods and I couldn’t let him die just yet. I know how fond you are of him.”“Thank you,” Joras said, clasping her wrist. “Of all of us, he’s had it the worst. Losing his ship, his crew, having to watch a friend be torn to pieces by the living dead…”“I know. All because I asked for his help chasing Kelgore." Tsonia sighed. "Curse the gods for the choices we make, eh?” She wiped at the blood covering half her face, only managing to smear it.Joras came to his feet and took up the pack that Ambrose had carried. “I’m sure the idea of taking half of what the God-King offered us appealed to him at the time.”“It will be more than enough to buy him a new ship at least.” Tsonia hoisted Ambrose back onto her shoulders. She fell into step behind T'pek, Joras by her side. “Gods, I’d kill for a bath right about now.”From bundle slung over Joras’s shoulder, the dead witch’s voice rasped “Kelgore is close! His presence draws me like a lodestone.”“Yes, thank you,” Tsonia replied. “We have a guide now, your service is no longer required.”“Insolent whore!" Shala gnashed her teeth. "First you tempt my son into debauchery, and now you dismiss my counsel with such contempt. The fate spinner may have granted you beauty, but they sacrificed any shred of virtue.”Tsonia inhaled slowly, mustering her patience. “You should choose your words carefully, witch. Especially when a bottomless chasm is so close." She paused, letting her words sink in. "What makes you think I corrupted your whelp? From what I’ve heard, he was called ‘The Despoiler’ for good reason, long before I met him.”“Kelgore has always shared my ambition to dethrone the God-King!” Shala protested. “His carnal endeavors were little more than the spoils of the victor. It was only when he found your demon-tainted cunt that he got it into his head to breed an heir that might surpass him.”“Ha!” Tsonia barked. “No man’s seed has ever found purchase in my womb.” Over the years since her virgin defilement by Q'alan, there had been many, many men who had tried. “Kelgore yearns in vain.”“No mortal seed, perhaps,” Shala admonished. "But Kelgore’s blood flows just as black as yours. Don’t scorn the fate spinner’s patterns so casually, whore. They have a vicious sense of humor.“That gave Tsonia pause. She had never met another soul that had survived desecration by a demon the way she had. Was it possible that she might conceive a child with Kelgore? She really had no idea, and she wasn’t entirely sure how to feel about this new possibility.T'pek stopped at the foot of a towering tree. "Here,” he said, pointing at the trunk. Deep hand holds had been carved into the bark.Tsonia craned her neck. Expertly hidden among the wide leaves of the jungle’s canopy was a large platform nestled in the branches. Gently, she let Ambrose slide from her shoulders. The captain groaned, slowly coming to his senses.“Good to see you return to us,” Tsonia said, helping Ambrose into a sitting position. “Are there other hunters up there, T'pek?”The beastkin shook his head. “They would have come already.” He cocked his head, ears perked high. “Drums from the village are quiet. That does not happen.” He looked at Tsonia. “I am worried.”“We will see,” Tsonia said. “Can your drum ask?”“Yes.” T'pek clambered up the trunk. Moments later, a quick beat echoed from above. The response was distant and sparse.“Oh grand, more drumming,” Ambrose muttered, reaching for the hand holds. With some effort, he pulled himself up the trunk and onto the platform. Joras followed, a bit hesitant.“This isn't a Xhastrian rooftop,” Tsonia said reassuringly. “You won’t fall and break your legs again.”“At least the ground ought to be softer than those thousand-year old cobblestones,” Joras muttered darkly, pulling himself up onto the platform. Tsonia followed suit.A wondrous sight awaited once she reached the top. There was a small hearth made from stacked rocks where the coals of a small fire still smoldered. Cozy-looking piles of fronds and furs looked enough to sleep half a dozen hunters. Large, leathery leaves had been cleverly stitched together and sealed with dark sap to form water bags. Sighing with contentment, Tsonia stripped off her blood-caked armor and uncorked one of these, splashing herself until the worst of the blood was washed away.While she bathed, Ambrose and Joras rekindled the fire and skewered meat to roast. They chatted softly with each other. Tsonia noticed the glances the graying captain shot her way. They seemed less accusatory than before, but still far from his usual friendly self. She sighed, feeling the weight of her decisions laid upon her soul. But there was nothing she could do now but push on and make sure they all made it back home safely.T'pek sat at the edge of the platform, dangling his feet and rapping his drum to as much avail as before. The responses that came back were sparse and scattered, a far cry from the all-encompassing rumble from days past.Tsonia stepped behind him, sinking her hands into his shoulder fur and kneading the taut muscles underneath. T'pek looked at her in surprise. A soft purr rumbled in his chest.“What do they say?” she softly asked.“Confusion,” T'pek admitted. “The village is quiet. It is as if no one is there to beat the drums.” He listened to an errant bout of rumbles. “That does not happen. The drums are sacred!”“Can we see your village from here?”“Yes,” T'pek nodded, putting aside his drum. He guided Tsonia back towards the great tree trunk where more hand holds led further up, far above the leafy jungle canopy. “From there,” he pointed upwards.His hand caressed down her spine, inflaming her barely controlled need again. She caught his wrist. “Don’t wake my hunger, hunter,” she purred. “We must see your village.” A soft whine escaped his chest. Tsonia sighed, slipping her hand under his loincloth. She found him hard and throbbing and squeezed fondly. “You will not sleep alone tonight,” she promised. "Wisdom first.“Panting happily, T'pek dashed up the tree. His sinuous tail caressed her bruised cheek as he went.Chuckling, Tsonia followed, albeit a bit more slowly. She heard Shala snarl something, probably another bout of insults but chose to ignore the foul-mouthed witch. This climb was longer than the first, ending at a much smaller platform, barely wide enough for both of them to stand together.Despite the thick clouds overhead and the deepening darkness of the night, the volcano was easy to see. The massive plume of smoke had gained a glowing red underbelly and the sharp slopes seemed much closer now. In the absence of constant drumming, every growl and rumble of the earth was clearly audible.T'pek pointed, a dark shade against the gloom. "The village is there. But, No light. No fire.”Tsonia’s gaze followed his extended arm. She saw nothing but an unbroken carpet of leaves and swaying trees. Shielding the last rays of sunset with her hand, her eyes dug into the darkness for sign of civilization. After a moment, something finally caught her eye, a flickering light much higher up than she expected, seemingly caught in a square recess.“What am I looking at?” she wondered. “I see light. Weak light, there.”T'pek leaned forwards, his dark eyes wide to catch every errant ray of light. "The temple. There is fire in the temple.“ He shook his head. "There should be fire in the village. Fire for light. Fire to cook. Fire to scare beasts away. But there is no fire.” He growled in annoyance.T'pek swung his body off the platform and clambered down the trunk. Tsonia had to hurry to catch up with him. She reached him as he was about to descend to the jungle floor below.“Stop!” she barked.T'pek froze, hand on the trunk. “There is danger. I must help!”“Yes,” Tsonia said, taking his hand off the wood. “But do not be fast. Be smart. This danger is new. This danger is Kelgore.”“What is Kelgore?” T'pek asked. His words were taut like a drawn bow. Tsonia could sense him aching for action.“Kelgore is a bad man,” Tsonia said. “He has strong magic. He can steal your, thoughts. Your will.”T'pek gazed at her, struggling to comprehend what Tsonia was saying. “My , will?”“His words, his eyes steal, you,” Tsonia said, struggling to put Kelgore’s horrible power into the simple terms of the Trade Tongue. “Magic makes you obey him.”“His magic steals the will of my tribe?” A dangerous growl came from the hunter’s throat.“We do not know. Maybe. We need to be smart. Clever, not angry,” Tsonia said, caressing T'pek’s back. “I am your mate. Let me help.”The beastkin exhaled, a long, shuddering sound of apprehension. “Yes,” he said. "Help. But how?“Tsonia offered a horrible, little smile. "We ask the dead witch.”Kelgore was beginning to have his doubts.It had not been hard to persuade the beastkin tribe to make him their ruler. He had only had to ask, first his captors to take him before their elders, and then the elders to revere him as a god. The fact that they shared no common language made no difference at all. Any who met Kelgore’s demon-blessed gaze understood his desires intuitively. Those who heard him speak were powerless to resist his will. These savages were no different than the milky men of the Green Cities or the fish-mongers of the Xhastrian coast.And so Kelgore ruled them. Without his mother’s constant nagging, he had been free to rule as he wished and to indulge his appetites without constraint.The women of the beastkin tribe, he found, were not unattractive. They curved in all the right places and the soft fur that covered their skin was actually quite nice to feel under his hands. The beastkin girl so enthusiastically riding his cock at the moment had pert little tits that trembled deliciously. The way her long, articulate tail thrashed when she came and the claws raking down his chest and back were unexpectedly arousing.With an agonized groan of release, Kelgore finally ejaculated deep in the beast-girl’s fertile quim. He felt a new shadow cross her psyche, a selfish little desire that she’d share with none of her kin. The girl hoped that she was conceiving a great chieftain, a ruler to succeed Kelgore someday and elevate her own status in the tribe.They had all had the same secret hope, and in hindsight, Kelgore thought it was probably a mistake to gather the entire tribe and turn them all to his debaucherous cause at once.As the beastkin girl dismounted his throne with a smile and a swish of her tail she was replaced almost immediately by his next suitor, this one older, her teats fuller and hips wider. She bathed his spent cock with a long, slippery tongue, coaxing him back to his full.In her mind, Kelgore saw all the secret tricks she knew for kindling a lover. He saw her secret fear that she was not as attractive as the younger females of the tribe, and her secret desire to bear the next great chief.He had lost count of the females he had serviced, each convinced by his will that by bearing Kelgore’s offspring their tribe would thrive and flourish, vanquishing all threats and rivals. The males too were turned to Kelgore’s cause and eagerly offered up their wives, mothers, and daughters. The cuckolded males brought him food and drink and attended his every need while he defiled their women in front of them. When he had no need of them, they gathered outside the temple, like dolls lined up on a shelf, waiting for the puppet master to resume his play.Only the elders had another part to play. Without females to bring him and as priests of the tribe’s old faith, they needed to be kept busy. From painful experience Kelgore knew that men and women of faith were notoriously hard to sway, so giving them tasks away from their former holy sites to take their minds elsewhere was the only prudent thing to do. He turned the elders, bird, serpent and skull, into watchmen. They were to patrol the village and warn him of any newcomers, announced or unannounced both. They complied, their minds buckling under the weight of their new responsibilities, leaving Kelgore to enjoy the tribe’s hospitality.After days of incessant revelry, the novelty however had long since worn off, and Kelgore discovered much to his dismay that once someone was turned to his cause, it was surprisingly difficult to turn them back. Thus far, he had never stayed in one place for long, raiding coastal villages for food and supplies and bodies, both to replenish combat losses and those to sate his appetite, and that of his men. He didn’t care if his charms wore off eventually or how long it took them to do so. Now he learned about the limits of his demonic gift.No matter how deeply penetrating his gaze, no matter how resonant the timbre of his voice, he could not staunch the beastkin’s desire to copulate with him for more than a few hours at a time. He could inspire new wishes and inclinations for a short time, but always that first yearning to breed a generation of his children returned.Perhaps that cause had been too grand in scale and scope. When Kelgore desired food they brought him food and when he desired sleep, they let him sleep. But after he’d eaten or slept, the tribe’s desire returned to milking his seed into the loins of their females. Perhaps after nine months or so, when the cause was fulfilled, his tribe would be ripe for new challenges.As the next female mounted Kelgore’s reinvigorated rod with a murmur of satisfied yearning, he realized that something was amiss. Distracted by the purring beastkin writhing on his lap, it took him some time to realize that the drums, thus far an ever-present rumbling background noise, had stopped. Kelgore had learned that various rhythms tracked and relayed different threats across the island. He could tell the difference between “strangers on the beach” and “strangers in the jungle” and “strangers sleeping”, but this silence was odd.A shadow fell over him. Kelgore raised his gaze. The sharp-beaked golden mask of the bird-faced elder loomed above him. His clawless front paw reverentially touched his shoulder, begging for his attention.The elder’s thoughts were a confused jumble, but something stirred within them, some other form mental connection, not unlike his own. Despite himself, Kelgore closed his hand around the elder’s, forcing his will through the hazy confusion. The elder carried a secret, something no one besides his peers was allowed to know. They guarded something, locked away in the catacombs beneath the temple. Something old, something horrible, so vile it could annihilate the whole tribe if it ever broke free from its shackles. Deals had been struck. The elders gave themselves willingly, becoming instruments of the Sleeper’s will and fulfilling its desire for nourishment and entertainment. Once sated, it would go back to sleep for years on end, leaving the tribe to flourish.Kelgore pushed the elder’s hand off his shoulder. “What is it?” he snarled. “I’m busy.” The female on his lap looked down at his imperious tone.“Strangers are in the village. One has fur the color of fire.”Suddenly wide awake and invigorated, Kelgore sat up. His true bride had finally arrived and it was time to greet her, make her his queen.Kelgore took the beastkin woman by her ass and shoved her off to the side of the padded breeding throne the savages had built for him. She stroked his shoulder and chest with an inquiring bark as Kelgore pushed himself to his feet. In her touch Kelgore felt her anticipation, saw her sprawled beneath him, saw her on her hands and knees before him, saw her spooned against him.“No,” Kelgore spat, knocking her hand away. His cold gaze pierced her wide, faithful eyes and she knew his desire even if his words meant nothing to her. “No, I don’t want you.”He threw his sturdy over-robe around his shoulders without bothering to dress more completely. As Kelgore hurried from the temple he had appropriated from the village elders, he left the beastkin whore curled up on the throne, sobbing while the elder watched, bereft of any emotion. The other females, gathered as they were in the great hall around the firepit, looked up as he strode past. Some purred in satisfaction, those he hadn’t fucked yet crawled on hands and knees to intercept him, their tails high in the air. The sounds they made were between playful coos and desperate howls. He didn’t care for any of them, now that demon-blooded, fire-haired Tsonia was close! He snapped an angry order, his loud voice enough for the horny ones to shirk away in confusion and the sated ones to raise their heads in puzzlement. Kelgore paid them no heed, eager to leave the gloom of his makeshift throne room.The entire village, what there was of it, spread out down the slope beneath his temple. The ruins of once elegant stone dwellings had been repurposed by clumsier hands with branches and bark and animal hides into crude hovels and halls. Surrounding the great hall the tribes’ males languished. Unneeded, unwanted, with no purpose save for waiting for their god’s next command. As he emerged, Kelgore’s worshippers turned to look up at him, their weapons, tools and drums forgotten besides them. They had been blessed by their new deity’s appearance. All they wanted was to serve.And serve they shall. He picked six of the strongest hunters. “You, come with me. Defend me with your lives, but do not hurt our guest.” The broad-shouldered beastkin growled in assent and grabbed their spears, coming lithely to their feet.The other beastkin slumped into listless heaps of fur as Kelgore swept down the steep steps leading into the village. With his guards in tow he strode along the main thoroughfare, an ancient road paved with cracked tiles. Past the abandoned huts he went, past the deserted tanning racks and smoke houses, past toppled weapons racks, scattered tools and forgotten toys, and then into the main square.Across the plaza Kelgore saw two men, men like him, hugging close to the broken masonry of ancient walls. There was caution in their eyes as they picked their way forward. They were strangers to him, and so Kelgore assumed they must be survivors from the vessel that had dogged him into Shala’s storm. One of the men, the younger, wore the tattered remains of a garish orange cloak.“Fur the color of fire,” Kelgore muttered to himself. He would have to have a chat with Bird-face, teach him proper use of the Trade Tongue. While he was disappointed that Tsonia had not yet come to him, he was glad to have the company of other men.Both men appeared haggard and unkempt, but their expressions brightened as soon as they caught sight of Kelgore and his retinue.“Praise the gods!” shouted the younger man.“Succor?” called the elder as both men hurried closer. "Succor, for two shipwrecked sailors?“Kelgore’s guards closed ranks around him and the men stopped dead, as if only just noticing the beasts at Kelgore’s command. The men looked past the guards with eyes full of hope and desperation."Stand down,” said Kelgore with a smile. “Can’t you oafs see that these good men are harmless? Welcome, gentlemen. Welcome to my kingdom, such as it is.”As his honor guard parted, the men looked at each other. Kelgore saw a strange pair of expressions cross their faces, and he could not fault their confusion. He was curious to see how the strangers would respond.“Your majesty!” replied the elder man at last, offering a low bow. “We are your humble servants.”“You may approach,” Kelgore gestured to the ground before him and both strangers rushed forward bowing and scraping. They knelt where he had indicated, their eyes cast down in deferential supplication. Kelgore could see now that they were bruised and bloodied. Their trek through the jungle must have been a difficult one. And yet these were civilized men who knew how to behave in the presence of a king.“Rise and come with me, my welcome guests,” Kelgore instructed with all the magnanimity his authority granted. “You will be fed and your wounds treated. My court has need of noble men such as yourselves. I have many questions, but they can wait until you are fed and rested.”Something was nagging at Kelgore as he led the pair back towards his temple. He realized that these men had probably been hunting him only a week ago, but that hardly mattered. If they opposed him, he would simply turn them to his cause. No, what troubled Kelgore was the thought that these two lowly sailors had made their way to him through the treacherous jungle faster than Tsonia had.Serpent waited. He had brought the outsider food and drink. He had brought fresh cloth to cleanse the outsider after he had lain with the women. But now the outsider had no task for him, so Serpent waited. He would wait until the outsider would have need of him again. Impassively he had watched as every last female, young or old, was herded into the temple. He watched as the hunters shuffled from the great hall like cattle, how they crumpled into motionless piles of fur and misery, having to listen to their wives, their daughters mew in heat as the outsider took them, one by one.He watched as Brother Condor entered the temple and talked to the outsider, causing him to stop the breeding rituals and storm from the great hall in sudden excitement. He had no idea why, but that was fine. He merely had to wait and receive his new orders.A sharp pain tore through his skull, covered by the heavy mask and ornate headdress. Moaning in agony, Serpent went to his knees. Around the temple, he heard two echoes of his own wail as his brothers suffered the same excruciating pain.Tears ran down his cheeks and dripped from his whiskers as titanic forces battled for dominance in his skull. He burned in a sudden fever, yet his teeth chattered as he shook with the chills. A fang clipped his tongue, drawing fresh, hot blood and another pained whimper. The pain was strongest at the base of his neck, as if a spear point was forced into his spine.And Serpent remembered, when he had been chosen, he went into a chamber below the great hall. The other two elders, Condor and Death Inevitable, were chanting. Thick smoke poured from a strange vessel, tearing up his eyes and insulting his sensitive nostrils with its cloying sweetness. Each breath he took caused him to relax more and more. Death Inevitable, his hand disappearing in the grotesque maw of a statue hewn from the wall, ordered him to step forward and kneel by the hatch in the floor. Awestruck by the great honor bestowed upon him, the most senior hunter of the tribe, he complied. The hatch ground open and more sweet-smelling vapors poured forth, blinding him completely. There was a sickening, slurping and smacking noise and something viscous slithered around his neck.The pain that followed was worse than anything he’d ever have to endure. His skin burned. His flesh dissolved. And something snaked under his skull. He howled and screamed, baring his fangs, trying to claw at the slithering intrusion, but the elders held him firmly to the ground. There was no escape, only merciful unconsciousness.When he awoke some time later, the village was celebrating the arrival of its newest elder. His head throbbed with unfamiliar palpitations. Gingerly, he touched his neck, sensing a small lump bulging from his spine. When his fingers brushed it, a soothing sensation oozed from it, assuring him everything would be all right. The Sleeper would see to that. The others had found him then and presented him with the golden mask of the fang-toothed Serpent. From now on, he was no longer a hunter. He had been chosen. The Sleeper had accepted him. He now was an elder, serving the village and its unseen master both until the day he died.Groaning, cursing his ancient bones, Serpent came to his feet. The Sleeper had freed him from the outsider’s spell. There was a strange movement on his back and gingerly, Serpent prodded for it. Something long and viscous dangled from the nape of his neck, streaked in blood and amniotic fluid. He gasped in terror as he beheld the Sleeper’s pale limb, sprouted from his own burst flesh.He tucked the offending appendage under his headdress and hurried through the temple, past the moaning females begging for their new god to return, to grace them with his seed. He growled in barely contained rage at this defilement of the tribe and hurried past, to where Condor was sprawled in a pool of blood in a dark corner, unheeded by anyone. His mask had fallen off his grayed face and his snout and forehead were a ghastly pulp. Ichor and brain matter ran down the wall from where he had shattered his own skull.“We will find a new elder,” Death Inevitable whispered behind him, the Sleeper’s limb grown from his neck gently touching Serpent’s shoulder. "But first, the Sleeper. Can’t you feel it?“Serpent nodded as shivers ran down his spine. The Sleeper was furious. First they had fed it an impure, hollowed shell of a woman. Then it had spent some of its precious power to free them from the outsider’s spell. It demanded praise. It demanded food. The Sleeper demanded a sacrifice.Serpent exchanged a long look with Death Inevitable. "Didn’t Condor, rest his soul, say there were strangers approaching?”“He did. We must bless Brother Condor with the funerary rites quickly, so that we can find these new outsiders.”Between the broken stone walls, Tsonia strolled openly, waiting to be challenged by a sentry. She had followed the path T'pek had indicated to the outskirts of the ancient ruins that his tribe called home. When no challenge came, she continued on towards the temple where he said the elders would gather.It was possible, she knew, that she was being watched. T'pek and his people were nearly invisible in the lush jungle foliage when they wanted to be. Much of the jungle had encroached on the overgrown stonework so there might have been eyes anywhere. If they were there, Tsonia could not see them. What she did see were abandoned tools and utensils, lying discarded as if their owners might return at any moment. As she made her way across the village square and deeper into the ruins, it felt more and more like walking through a town that had been hastily abandoned ahead of an invading army.She saw the antediluvian temple rising out of the green, towering above the village. It was just as T'pek had described it. It could be seen from anywhere in the village, she merely had to find her way through the disorganized warren of crumbling stone and twisted vines.Tsonia mounted a set of steps between a hut roofed with animal hides and another with browning palm fronds and emerged on a wider avenue than the path she had left. She stopped short, and very nearly retreated a step, for scattered before her were dozens upon dozens of the native beastkin. They made no effort to conceal themselves, lounging and slouching on the steps and rubble that surrounded the temple. Several of the men saw her, but none bothered to rise.She approached them cautiously, sword in hand, and yet still none seemed alarmed by her presence.“Who speaks the outsider tongue?” she called to the assembled throng. None answered. Tsonia picked her way among them and while some watched her pass and some even stared, they did not try to stop her. They seemed listless and enervated as if by hunger or thirst, yet there was food and water aplenty in the village.Another surprise awaited her when she saw a clear separation of the men and women of the tribe. The women were clustered closer around the temple wall, and unlike the men they seemed agitated and anxious.“Who speaks the outsider tongue?” she asked again, hoping to arouse a response.“I do.” said a clear, strong voice from above her. Tsonia looked up, as did every other face in the crowd.There at the entrance to the temple, stood her quarry, Kelgore, resplendent in multi-colored robes of leather and plumes. He was flanked by a pair of burly, green-furred beastkin guards wielding long boar-spears. Kelgore himself appeared unarmed.“But Thelyrian is so much more civilized, don’t you think?” he asked.“What have you done to them?” Tsonia demanded.“I merely asked them to wait on me. When I wish for anything at all, they fall all over themselves to provide. I’m their new god you see.”“When was the last time they ate?”A curious expression crossed Kelgore’s face. In another man, it might have been embarrassment at the oversight or perhaps even guilt. In Kelgore it seemed more like irritation.“You six there,” Kelgore gestured, looking down with glassy black eyes at a knot of the idle men, “Prepare food and drink. Feed everyone.” In his voice, Tsonia heard an odd resonance that sent a shiver up her spine. The six beastkin leapt to their feet and dashed off into the village towards the abandoned cookfires.“You see? They worship me. They live to serve.”“How very nice for you,” Tsonia said, starting slowly up the last flight of steps to the temple door, sword in hand.And suddenly she was back on the bottom step, her hands empty, the sword slung at her side. She had no memory of descending, nor of sheathing the sword. Tsonia bit back her anger.Kelgore smiled. “Tell me Red Tsonia, before I bid you welcome to my kingdom, have you come to kill me?”“Honestly, I expected to find that the natives had eaten you,” she lied. “I’m a little surprised to see you doing so well for yourself, and I’m starting to see why the God-King fears you so.”“Perhaps I could entice you to change sides?”“Perhaps you could.”“Then approach, Red Tsonia, and be welcomed.” Kelgore waved his guards back a step and extended a beckoning hand. “I shall have a feast prepared in your honor. But first come and meet my court. I have a, um, proposal that I think you’ll find rewarding.”Tsonia climbed the stairs and took the hand he offered. Kelgore led her into his throne room, his two guards never more than a short pounce behind him. The cool tile floors were covered with thick hides. The sunlight, through open gaps in the ancient ceiling scattered pools of light and shadow. In the center of the room sat a crude divan covered in supple leather and stains that appeared fresh.Joras and Ambrose were there, sitting on a pair of smaller settees, picking at platters of fruit held by naked beastkin girls. Joras sat up with a start.“Red Tsonia, we thought you drowned!” he cheered. Tsonia worried his enthusiasm was a bit forced, but Kelgore didn’t seem to notice. “How ever did you survive?”“Much the way you did, I suspect.” she answered putting a bit of cold distance in her voice. “It’s 'Joras’, right? And, 'Ambrose’ I believe?”Ambrose nodded. “Welcome to a very exclusive club of survivors, Tsonia,” he said without getting up. “I suspect you may come to enjoy being marooned here in Kelgore’s kingdom.”“Yes.” She cast an approving glance at Kelgore, taking his measure. “Yes, I suspect I may.”There was a commotion at the door and everyone turned to see two strapping beastkin carrying in a roughly crafted wooden settee, similar to the couches Joras and Ambrose enjoyed. Behind them, T'pek came, bearing a heavy roll of thick, wooly hides to drape as padding. Tsonia recognized the familiar scarring across his chest and spared him only the briefest glance.His hand was held with fingers crossed, the prearranged signal that all was in readiness.“Come, come! Over there,” Kelgore gestured to the natives, directing them to set the new furniture between Joras and Ambrose, giving Tsonia a position of importance between them. “Set that down and be quick about it.”Joras lounged with an arm stretched across the chair back. He too had his fingers crossed.Ambrose did not. A brief anxiety flashed up Tsonia’s spine. She risked a longer look and when she caught his eye with a questioning cock of her eyebrow, with a sigh of reluctance Ambrose crossed his fingers as wellShe had the signal ready on her lips. All she had to do was speak it.“Your majesty, I believe you said you had a, um, proposal for me?” She crossed in front of him with more sway in her hips than a ripe Debon maiden. She turned and perched herself on the edge of his throne drawing concerned scowls from his guards and a knowing smile from the King himself. “If you have something to say then, now is the time”On her word, T'pek unfurled the roll of hides with a snap sending the head of Shala tumbling across the floor to come to rest at the feet of her astonished son.“Kill her, you fool! It’s a trap!” screamed the witch’s severed head, just as Tsonia hoped she might.No matter how enchanted Kelgore’s guards, that sight could not fail to rattle them. It would give Joras and Ambrose the precious second they needed to aim the short reeds that the natives used as blowguns. Not much longer than a man’s hand, the weapons were easily concealed. T'pek had found a cache of them at the hunting camp, along with the darts and a clay jar of the sleeping poison. Joras and Ambrose had practiced with them for hours.Tsonia was already on the fly, launching herself off the divan sword in hand, trusting her companions to deal with the guards quickly and without bloodshed. One well-placed strike would take Kelgore’s head and end his tyrannical reign over these people.Kelgore ducked her blow, recovering from the shock of his mother’s appearance with more composure than Tsonia expected. Nonetheless, T'pek would be on him in an instant. Tsonia whirled on the would-be king to follow up her first attack and suddenly felt her feet fly out from under her.She hit the hide-carpeted stone floor hard. Instinctively she rolled away from a follow up attack by what she assumed must have been the long spear of one of the guards. Seizing that momentum, Tsonia sprang to her feet and saw Joras, T'pek, and Ambrose unmoved from their places, still and passive.She turned to see Kelgore’s still very much alert guards advancing on her, and Kelgore himself grinning as if he was particularly proud of himself. Raising her sword with a primal scream of fury, Tsonia charged.And she was on her knees, wrists bound behind her back, her neck tethered to her knees, and the points of two spears pressed to her shoulders. Tsonia clawed through her memory for some recollection of how she had been bested and she found nothing.“Really my dear, did you think that would work?” Kelgore asked. He lounged on his breeding throne with his mother settled comfortably by his side. The long spears of his guards held his betrothed prisoner, bent double on her knees before him. Her allies stood by, waiting for his instructions. They would stand there waiting until they starved to death if he so willed it.“You have never respected the power I procured for my son," gloated Shala. "And now you shall die for your arrogance.”“Don’t be hasty, mother,” Kelgore admonished. He had no intention of slaying his future bride, despite his mother’s opinions. “I think she may yet come around, if given a proper demonstration.”The vixen-warrior on the floor in front of him strained against her bonds with a scream, even as the spear points pierced her flesh, raising drops of black blood that trickled down her shoulders and fell hissing to the floor.“Their rope is really quite strong, isn’t it?” Kelgore asked, amused by her efforts. “It was your beastly lover there who trussed you up so securely.” Tsonia looked up and shot a glance at the scar-ridden beastman who stood nearby.“Oh, don’t feel betrayed. He really didn’t have any choice. In fact, I think that he is the one who should feel betrayed. Did you really promise to bear him pups? You must know that your demon-blessed womb will never bear mortal fruit.”“Then why do you seek to make my barren loins your own?” Tsonia hissed up at him. Her vibrant hair hung lank in her face as she strained against her bonds to meet his gaze. She really had learned nothing.“Enough of this!” insisted Shala. “Kill her now and be done with it! This boasting is beneath you. You should be ordering these savages to build you a boat, not wasting time fawning over this whore.”“Silence, mother!” he spat. He was proud of the kingdom he had built here, but nothing would be good enough for his mother until the God-King lay dead at his feet. She had no appreciation for the finer things in life that his demon-gifted powers could provide. She could make him so angry sometimes.Kelgore drew a knife from his belt, toyed with it for a moment while eyeing his mother’s head. She returned his glare, but said nothing. He took a moment to steady himself before looking at the younger of Tsonia’s allies and calling “Joras, come take this knife.”“What are you doing? Leave him alone!” snapped Tsonia, straining again at her bonds.“Yes, your loyal follower,” Kelgore observed. “Perhaps the only person you really care about. Your memory and his both tell me how much he means to you, and what destruction you might rain if not for his companionship.”“Kelgore, I swear to every god on either side of the veil,” Tsonia hissed at him through clenched teeth, “if you hurt him there is no hell with a pit deep enough to hide you from my wrath.” Her bonds groaned with the effort of containing her fury and the spear point dug deeper into her shoulders.“No, no, no. You’ve got it all wrong.” Kelgore waved away the absurd idea and stood from his throne, forcing Tsonia to struggle even harder to look at him. He turned to the young artist, knowing that if there was any leverage over Red Tsonia to be found, this man was the fulcrum.“Joras,” he said. "Kill Ambrose.“The young man in the horrid orange cloak turned on his lover, who stood motionless and indifferent. If there was fear in the older man’s soul, Kelgore could not yet see it in his eyes."No!” Tsonia screamed. "Joras! Stop! Joras, fight it! Fight him! Stop, Joras, please!“But there was no stopping a command once Kelgore had issued it with the full force of his will behind it. Indeed, Kelgore doubted even he could have stayed Joras’s hand now. The man moved with deliberate speed and with one strike, he stabbed Ambrose through the heart.The sea captain looked up with a gasp. Now Kelgore could see the shock and terror in his eyes. A tear rolled down Ambrose’s cheek as he took Joras’s face in his hands. If Ambrose spoke, he was too quiet for Kelgore to hear over Tsonia’s screams of protest. Ambrose pressed his forehead to Joras’s and caressed the scruff of his lover’s chin. Then he fell to his knees and died.Joras stood over Ambroses’s body for but a moment, the dagger held limp in his hand. Kelgore saw the familiar twitch as his puppet's will returned. Joras finally heard Tsonia screaming. He looked around trying to remember where he was. Then he looked down at the dagger in his bloody hand, and past it to the man lying in a spreading crimson pool at his feet.Joras dropped the blade and collapsed sobbing over Ambrose. Kelgore smiled at the agony in the man’s voice as he begged the still-warm corpse for forgiveness.The king knelt next to Tsonia to make it easier for his betrothed to hear his words. When she refused to meet his eye, he took her by the chin and turned her tear-streaked face towards his."You have my word, darling Tsonia,” he said. “I will never kill your friend. But if you continue to defy me, You will.”Tsonia clenched her eyes closed and jerked away from his touch.Kelgore would give his lesson a moment to sink in. He stood and turned to Tsonia’s beastly ex-lover. “You there,” he made a dismissive gesture towards Joras. “Take him away and lock him someplace secure.”The brute easily hefted Joras onto his shoulder and carried him out of the throne room, the howls of lamentation eventually fading in the distance. The king resumed his throne, beckoned a naked serving girl bearing a platter of fruit, and selected a morsel that looked tasty. He noted with a smile that his prisoners’ struggles had ceased.“Now then, Red Tsonia, or, may I call you Kaela?, my proposal,” he began. “You will bear me a host of children. With our demon-blessed powers combined, our offspring will grow to be the most powerful warriors this world has ever seen. They will be the officers who will lead an army of my loyal bastards against the so-called God-King of Xhastria.”Tsonia said nothing.“I’ll take your acceptance as granted. What do you think of that, mother?”“I think you waste decades on what should be a simple conquest," sneered Shala."There is no pleasing you, woman.” Kelgore’s brow furrowed and he wondered how long he could forestall his mother’s restoration ritual. If he could deny her pure blood tonight, she would have to begin the process all over from the beginning.He was contemplating excuses when there was a rush of movement in the far corner of the temple. Snake-face and Skull-face appeared from a darkened passageway that led deeper into the temple than Kelgore had cared to explore. Holy men were always so intractable in their routines. But no matter, he had need of them now.“There you are.” He stood to address the shamans as they hastily approached. “I have grand news. I am to be wed! My bride has arrived at last!” He gestured to Tsonia, bound at spear point on the floor. “Prepare a ceremony fit for your god.”The two elders stopped short. They turned and looked at each other, their expressions hidden behind those damned masks. Kelgore would have removed them, but a holy man in his raiment was so efficient at inspiring compliance from those Kelgore could not turn directly.“It, is good,” said Snake-face at last, using the pidgin Trade Tongue.“We have a, holy place below,” added Skull-face. "Very special. It is only best for our god’s wedding.“"That sounds perfect,” Kelgore agreed. “Find Bird-face and make the preparations. I wish to be married at once.”Snake-face hurried out of the temple, no doubt to fetch whatever sacred vestments he required and to arrange for the wedding feast. Skull-face turned back the way he had come to prepare their most sacred chapel until Kelgore called “Wait!”Skull-face turned around slowly.Kelgore picked up his mother’s head from his throne, strode purposely across the room and handed her to the shaman. “Find someplace secret and quiet to keep this,” Kelgore told him.“Kelgore?’ his mother barked. "What are you doing? Unhand me, you savage charlatan!”“Can’t have you spoiling my wedding night, mother. I’ll see you in a couple of days.”Kelgore bounced back onto his throne and selected another piece of fruit from the girl’s tray as the witch’s screams of invective faded into the darkness. He almost felt sorry for poor Skull-face having to endure her bile. But the savage couldn’t understand a word of it anyway, so it was alright.He looked down at Tsonia, still seething quietly on the floor in front of his throne. “Cheer up, my love!” he taunted her. “Today is the happiest day of your life!”Joras barely noticed where T'pek was carrying him. He didn’t really care either. The enormity of what he had done was threatening to swallow him like a gaping, black maelstrom.He had killed Ambrose.Somehow he had rammed a Vizingian dagger straight into his lover’s heart. And he did not remember doing it. But there was no mistaking the crimson pool surrounding the still body, the look of odd reverie on his bearded features.He had killed Ambrose.There had been long stretches of time when their paths had led them to wander or sail different parts of the world, but when they met, it always was a joyous occasion, much like returning to a safe harbor after a grueling storm. Ambrose was a fierce lover, a wise friend and sometimes even a devilish jester, one of the few people to rile up Tsonia without incurring her wrath. Ambrose was one of the few people to talk some sense into Tsonia when her mind was ablaze with tales of mad adventures, with visions of gold or glory too large even for her to take on, a welcome ally indeed.Now he was gone, struck down by Joras’ own hand.Hot tears spilled down his cheeks, blinding his vision. Suddenly, the world tilted around him and he crumpled to an uneven stone floor, sharp ridges and cracked tiles biting into his knees and ribs and elbows. Behind him, a heavy door banged shut. Joras did not care. If the gods were indeed just, he would die and be reunited with Ambrose.He raised his voice in lamentation for his friend, but only a choked sob escaped him.A horrid, wheezing cough answered him. Wherever he was, Joras was not alone. Mustering what little strength he had, the artist scrabbled into a sitting position, using his sleeve to dab at his swollen eyes and puffy nose. When his vision cleared, he found himself on the floor of a dilapidated room. The walls were at least twenty feet high and made from ancient stone. Parts of the ceiling had crumbled eons ago, leaving a gaping hole which someone had patched with a latticework of wooden beams and sharpened stakes jutting downwards. There was no furniture, just a stone plinth. A shaggy, disheveled bundle lay atop it. As he watched, a spindly, pale-skinned arm shot from the bundle, snatching one of the ever-present tiny rodents. The cough came again as the bundle struggled into a sitting position.Despite his own anguish, Joras gasped in horror. What he had taken for a bundle of skin and fur was a man like himself, emaciated and unkempt, with white-golden hair and a similar beard covering most of his chest. He wore a vest and kilt made from once white fur, now yellowed and ragged and large enough to fit a man twice the stranger’s size. An elaborate belt buckle made from gold and bronze, shaped like crossed axes, seemed utterly out of place in this dismal hell.A third time the stranger coughed, still clutching the squirming rodent. Ignoring Joras, the stranger raised the furry morsel to his mouth and bit into it until the rodent’s panicked squeals finally ended. He tore into the tiny animal, blood running down his beard until he discarded the shredded carcass. The stranger spat a clump of fur and coughed again.“Who, are you?” Joras asked, torn between pity and revulsion. The stranger seemed ill and close to death. The stench emanating from him was eye-watering.The stranger gulped and worked his mouth. Eventually, he spoke. It took Joras some time to recognize the strange vowels of Debon’s tongue. The stranger patted his chest, leaving ghastly fingerprints on his vest.“Aelric,” he muttered. “I am, Aelric.”To be continued in Part 5.By Blind_Justice & Loqui Sordida for Literotica.

If you've ever sat in a dentist's chair and left feeling like something was missing, then you'll want to tune in to our latest episode of Your Mouth Matters. Dr. Taylor takes us through what a real comprehensive dental exam should look like at Green City Dental. This isn't your run-of-the-mill checkup. We're diving deep into the revolutionary ways your dental health can be the window to your overall well-being. From examining your posture and jaw alignment to detecting hidden infections with cutting-edge CT scans, Dr. Taylor is pioneering a path to care that looks at you – not just your mouth. Forget quick in-and-out dental visits that ignore the big picture. We explore how personalized care, outside the restraints of insurance companies, can make a dramatic difference in your health and transform the dental experience. You'll see dentistry in a whole new light. So, if you're ready to uncover the secrets to a full-body approach to oral care and shake up the way you think about your next dental visit, get your teeth into this episode. Your body will thank you! Check us out at Your Mouth Matters. Happy listening, and even happier, healthier living!

The Drunk Guys will blow you to a beer this week when they read Death of a Salesman by Arthur Miller. They blow: Business by Stillwater, Prognosis Negative by Greenpoint, Blank Checks by Kills Boro, and Green City by Other Half. Join the Drunk Guys next Tuesday when they read

Virginia's executive mansion will display a Christmas tree grown in Floyd County this year; Henrico's Board of Supervisors scheduled a public hearing to discuss the county's Green City development; Possession of small amounts of marijuana is legal in Virginia…but there's no adult-use retail market.

We're kicking off the week by answering your listener questions! And if you have a question that you'd like for us to answer on the show, we'd love for you to submit your own via HowToMoney.com/ask , send us your voice memo. Regardless of how random or bizarre you might think it is, we want to hear it!   1 - With Mint shutting down, do y'all have any recommendations for new budgeting software? 2 - Should I convert my primary residence into an investment property as I'm moving out of town? 3 - As a contract worker, what are the benefits of opening a solo 401k in order to achieve my investing goals? 4 - How much should I spend on a new car and what's a good strategy for saving up for it? 5 - Is it worth switching banks for an extra 1% in interest?   Want more How To Money in your life? Here are some additional ways to get ahead with your personal finances: Knowing your ‘money gear' is a crucial part of your personal finance journey. Start here.  Sign up for the weekly HTM newsletter. It's fun, free, & practical. Join a thriving community of fellow money in the HTM Facebook group. Find the best credit card for you with our new credit card tool! Massively reduce your cell phone bill each month by switching to a discount provider like Mint Mobile.   During this episode we enjoyed a Green City by Other Half Brewing- a big thanks to Jason for sending this one our way! And please help us to spread the word by letting friends and family know about How to Money! Hit the share button, subscribe if you're not already a regular listener, and give us a quick review in Apple Podcasts or wherever you get your podcasts. Help us to change the conversation around personal finance and get more people doing smart things with their money!   Best friends out!See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

In this episode of the Innovation Storytellers Show, I spoke with Lincoln Bleavens, Stanford University's Executive Director of Sustainability & Energy Management. With a rich background in the global energy sector, Lincoln brings a unique blend of academic and practical expertise to his role, overseeing a range of operations from energy and water management to emergency preparedness and waste management. Our discussion centered on Stanford's innovative approach to sustainability, viewing the university as a microcosm of a larger urban system. Lincoln highlighted Stanford's significant strides in aligning its operational needs with sustainability goals. Notably, the university's transition from a natural gas-fired plant to renewable electricity and from a steam-based system to more efficient hot and chilled water systems has substantially reduced energy and water consumption. These changes, Lincoln pointed out, are not just about adopting new technologies but represent a fundamental shift in resource management, resulting in a dramatic decrease in distribution losses and water consumption. This approach positions Stanford as a leader in sustainable innovation, demonstrating how operational efficiency can coexist with environmental stewardship. Lincoln's insights underscore the importance of sustainability as a driver of innovation. Stanford is setting an example for other institutions and cities by focusing on long-term, sustainable solutions. His passion for applied innovation and sustainability is a testament to Stanford's commitment to leading by example in this vital area. In summary, my conversation with Lincoln Bleavens was an in-depth look into how Stanford is pioneering a sustainable future, offering valuable lessons and strategies that could inspire a broader movement toward sustainable innovation and efficiency.  

In this episode of ON CITIES, host Carie Penabad will be speaking with Hèléne Chartier, Director of Urban Planning and Design at C40 Cities, a leading global organization dedicated to sustainable urban development. At the forefront of urban sustainability, C40 works tirelessly to forge a path towards Low Carbon Cities, our episode's central theme. We will delve into the organization's mission and explore best practice from around the world aimed at creating greener, more sustainable and environmentally conscious cities. Tune in Friday, September 8th at 11:00 AM EST, 8:00 AM PST on the Voice America Variety Channel https://www.voiceamerica.com/show/4119/on-cities ; and find all previous episodes on Spotify, Apple iTunes or your favorite podcast platform.

In this episode of ON CITIES, host Carie Penabad will be speaking with Hèléne Chartier, Director of Urban Planning and Design at C40 Cities, a leading global organization dedicated to sustainable urban development. At the forefront of urban sustainability, C40 works tirelessly to forge a path towards Low Carbon Cities, our episode's central theme. We will delve into the organization's mission and explore best practice from around the world aimed at creating greener, more sustainable and environmentally conscious cities. Tune in Friday, September 8th at 11:00 AM EST, 8:00 AM PST on the Voice America Variety Channel https://www.voiceamerica.com/show/4119/on-cities ; and find all previous episodes on Spotify, Apple iTunes or your favorite podcast platform.

It's 2050 and we're exploring how the world radically reduced carbon emissions and saved itself from climate catastrophe. What have our cities done to accommodate massive population growth? And how do businesses, governments, researchers and everyday people work together to build sustainable supply chains, agricultural practices and transportation infrastructure?This is Climate Vision 2050, a podcast series from BCG.In this episode, Nairobi's green tech and innovation boom make it a 2050 powerhouse. That success comes with climate challenges that the city is addressing. Urban planner Bailey Muthoni lives in housing built from plastic waste and gets around on an electric motorbike. She stages a tactical urbanism intervention advocating for improved walkability around the city's parliament.This podcast uses the following third-party services for analysis: Chartable - https://chartable.com/privacy

A report from The Center Square explained a district in Boulder, Colorado confirmed EVs just can't do the work involved in running more demanding routes into the Colorado Rocky Mountain foothills. https://tinyurl.com/mr2pddm3 #WNDNewsCenter #TheCenterSquare #GreenSchoolDistrict #ElectricVehicles #ElectricBuses #DieselSchoolBuses #ClimateChangeIdeology #ClimateChangeCampaign #VancouverWa #ClarkCountyWa

Emails, Your Guess is as Good as Mine Categories: America's Greenest Cities & The Seahawks! Plus Headlines Mike is NOT working on!

In this episode of ON CITIES, host Carie Penabad will be speaking with Hèléne Chartier, Director of Urban Planning and Design at C40 Cities, a leading global organization dedicated to sustainable urban development. At the forefront of urban sustainability, C40 works tirelessly to forge a path towards Low Carbon Cities, our episode's central theme. We will delve into the organization's mission and explore best practice from around the world aimed at creating greener, more sustainable and environmentally conscious cities. Tune in Friday, September 8th at 11:00 AM EST, 8:00 AM PST on the Voice America Variety Channel https://www.voiceamerica.com/show/4119/on-cities ; and find all previous episodes on Spotify, Apple iTunes or your favorite podcast platform.

In this episode of ON CITIES, host Carie Penabad will be speaking with Hèléne Chartier, Director of Urban Planning and Design at C40 Cities, a leading global organization dedicated to sustainable urban development. At the forefront of urban sustainability, C40 works tirelessly to forge a path towards Low Carbon Cities, our episode's central theme. We will delve into the organization's mission and explore best practice from around the world aimed at creating greener, more sustainable and environmentally conscious cities. Tune in Friday, September 8th at 11:00 AM EST, 8:00 AM PST on the Voice America Variety Channel https://www.voiceamerica.com/show/4119/on-cities ; and find all previous episodes on Spotify, Apple iTunes or your favorite podcast platform.

Transcript and resources available here: https://www.patreon.com/posts/problem-with-air-86738798 You can support our work through Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/kibo_planetnow Planet Now is a Kibō production, created by Nagisa Morimoto and Abigail Wilkin. Intro song by Leonell Cassio

The Drunk Guys drink the best of all possible beers this week when they read Candide by Voltaire. They feel enlightened by: Fire, Skulls, and Money by Toppling Goliath, Take me to Your Leader by Greenpoint, and Green City and Green Crowns by Other Half Brewing. Join the Drunk Guys

In Season 3, episode 2 of the Build Better podcast, Anastasia welcomes Christopher Grallert, president of Green City Growers, a company whose mission is to provide inspiring shared experiences for employees, customers, and community members that educate and enable people to grow food sustainably. Grallert shares more about how the team at Green City Growers is furthering their goal of creating increased connection with onsite gardens, and educating the next generation on how to create and maintain local food systems in Boston and beyond.    

The Drunk Guys go on a mission for beer this week when they read Tennis Shoes Among the Nephites by Chris Heimerdinger and are joined by the Drunk Mormon Podcast. They also find golden plates that say: Green City and Broccoli by Other Half, Deep Terra by Drowned Lands, and

On this week's Sustainability Now!, your host, Justin Mog, brings you a roundtable conversation with the Louisville Sustainability Council and representatives from four of their 2023 Community Grant Awardees, which have just been announced! Joining us are: David Abell (Board member, LSC), Stephen Bartlett (Executive Direct, Sustainable Agriculture of Louisville), David Wicks (Ripple Effects: A Louisville/Ohio River Visioning Project), Brooke Pardue (CEO, Parks Alliance of Louisville), and Brigette Brouillard (ED, Second Chances Wildlife Center). The Louisville Sustainability Council (LSC) is pleased to announce that its Community Grant Program, funded by the Louisville Sustainability Fund, awarded 10 grants totaling $30,000 on April 1, 2023. Over 80 applications were received and over $350,000 was requested by a wide array of organizations and non-profits focused on innovative, entrepreneurial projects and programs. This is the 3rd grant cycle with the number of grant applications received doubling each cycle. Through the generosity of Kroger, Yum, Sociable Weaver Foundation, Partnership for a Green City, Office for Advanced Planning and Sustainability and Walmart, the amount awarded also doubled from the previous grant cycles. For more information on the Louisville Sustainability Fund and the LSC, please visit https://www.louisvillesustainabilitycouncil.org/sustainabilityfund 2023 Awardees: Canopy Certified Inc. - Canopy & Bernheim Arboretum & Research Forest: Environmental Impact Education Partnership Center for Neighborhoods - An Interactive GIS Learning Tool for JCPS Students: Communicating Sustainability Data to the Leaders of Tomorrow Fern Creek High School - Olla Irrigation Pots and Rainwater Collection Basin as a Sustainable Solution to Irrigation Needs in a School Garden Kentucky Resources Council - Community Engagement Workshop - Empowering Residents to Advocate for Cleaner Air and a Healthier Louisville - through the creation of specific curriculum, a guidebook, and implementation. Kentucky Solar Energy Society - Clean Energy License Plate Louisville Climate Action Network - Urban Energy Partnership (UEP) Parks Alliance of Louisville - Pollinator Garden/Nature Discovery Zone at the new Alberta Jones Park in California neighborhood https://parksalliancelou.org Second Chances Wildlife Center - Environmental Education Equitability Expansion for JCPS K-12 students https://secondchanceswildlife.org Sustainable Agriculture of Louisville - Three Sisters Collective Project at Barr Farms and in Louisville at La Casita Center https://salouisville.org The Library Foundation - Ripple Effects: A Louisville/Ohio River Visioning Project! https://lfpl.org/photocontest or https://www.lfpl.org/RippleEffects/slide.html " As always, our feature is followed by your community action calendar for the week, so get your calendars out and get ready to take action for sustainability NOW! Sustainability Now! is hosted by Dr. Justin Mog and airs on Forward Radio, 106.5fm, WFMP-LP Louisville, every Monday at 6pm and repeats Tuesdays at 12am and 10am. Find us at http://forwardradio.org The music in this podcast is courtesy of the local band Appalatin and is used by permission. Explore their delightful music at http://appalatin.com

On today's episode, I sit down with Molly Bordonaro, Owner & Managing Partner at Green Cities Company, and discuss what it means to build a truly environmentally-friendly building; The markets Green Cities Company is most interested in and why; and How COVID changed what renters care about.At Green Cities, Molly oversees investment management, investor relations, and asset management at The Green Cities Company.The Green Cities Company acquires, manages, and develops multifamily, commercial, and mixed-use assets. Their mission is to cultivate competitive returns utilizing deep investment and asset management experience, combined with meaningful attention to ESG considerations, in select U.S. markets.Molly Bordonaro, Managing Partner, With more than 20 years of commercial real estate experience including transactions, financing, management, leasing, and operations, she also serves on the firm's Investment Committee.In 2009, Molly joined The Green Cities Company to help build out the firm's investment management practice. In 2011, Molly became a partner of the firm. Previously, Molly was a principal at The Gallatin Group and a co-founding director of an investment fund specializing in the financing of real estate development in low and moderate-income areas. From 2005 to 2009, she served as the United States Ambassador to the Republic of Malta, becoming the first American diplomat to receive Malta's highest medal of honor. Prior to that, she was a commercial broker with NAI Norris, Beggs, and Simpson.Links:Molly on LinkedInThe Green Cities CompanyGRESBLEED CertificationFitwel ESG Solutions Get in touch with Juniper Square Access to the video version of this podcast Connect with Brandon Sedloff on LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/bsedloff/ Topics:(1:20) - Molly's career background(6:30) - Green Cities' Funds & Capitalization(9:58) - Why or how did ESG become so interconnected to your organization?(13:53) - What would you say to GP's or Investment Managers that would argue ESG is politically motivated and unnecessary?(16:29) - How do you comply and adhere to existing ESG standards and how do you see those evolving over time?(18:34) - How do you think about the Social and Governance aspects of ESG?(20:58) - How do you think about Investor Communication and how have your investor's needs changed?(24:09) - What did your Investor Communications look like before this growth of technology?(25:46) - What's your view of the current market?(29:41) - Can you walk us through your latest deal?(35:26) - Have you seen any changes in the velocity of leasing or demand in your assets given the market conditions?(37:18) - How would you describe the typical renter profile?(39:45) - Has the WFH growth affected the amenities in Multifamily?

Nairobi's green tech and innovation boom make it a 2050 powerhouse. That success comes with climate challenges that the city is addressing. Urban planner Bailey Muthoni lives in housing built from plastic waste and gets around on an electric motorbike. She stages a tactical urbanism intervention advocating for improved walkability at the city's parliament.The city's population has quadrupled since the 2020s, forcing it to find creative ways to house new and longtime residents while addressing poverty and inequality. At the same time, the city had to transition to an electrified bus rapid transit system and charging infrastructure for electric motorbikes. The city is fully powered by renewable energy.We hear from John Kidenda imagining himself as the founder of the Nairobi Tactical startup. He is the chief of utility operations at PowerGen Renewable Energy. We also hear from Katie Hill, an expert leader in climate and energy technology and BCG partner. Climate Vision 2050 is a podcast from BCG, a global consulting firm committed to climate and sustainability action. Join us every episode as we explore how the world radically reduced carbon emissions and stepped back from the brink of climate catastrophe. This podcast uses the following third-party services for analysis: Chartable - https://chartable.com/privacy

Sainey Sawaneh und Dominik Hoffmann begrüßen FTI-Produktchefin für Gesamt-Asien, Inga Hoppenstedt, direkt aus Singapur. Passion Made Possible. Teil 1. Die Themen: Super Wetter in Singapur; Sehr gute Infrastruktur; Yoga auf der Aussichtsplattform des Marina Bay Sands; Direktflüge; Vielfältigkeit und hohe Lebensqualität; Singapur Green Plan 2030; Amtssprache: Singlisch; Avatar-Welt in Gardens by the Bay Dir stehen folgende Informationsquellen und Kontaktmöglichkeiten zur Verfügung: https://www.fti.de/service/reisehinweise.html https://www.fti.de/blog/reiseberichte-und-tipps/expertentipps/urlaub-corona-einreisebestimmungen/ Schreib uns deine Fragen, Reiseerlebnisse und Reisetipps an gluecksmomente@fti.de