Podcasts about red sonya

Morrison returns to the Zip Cave with some great discussions on The White Lotus, The Righteous Gemstones, and so much more. After a GQ interview stating that the character of Batman is most likely behind him for good, Ben Affleck's response went viral. The guys discuss his history with hero films (including Daredevil). Official Channel:  https://www.youtube.com/@geekzippodcast  GeekZip Podcast: https://youtube.com/playlist?list=PLnyxysxvzirQIBpmY9zAnKzcjb1enboJO&si=gQVz1rE5ls6s2Uao GeekZip Discord: https://discord.gg/jE7P6ACnTwitch: https://www.twitch.tv/geekzippodcastFacebook: https://www.facebook.com/geekzippX: https://x.com/GeekZipInstagram: https://www.instagram.com/geekzip/TikTok: https://www.tiktok.com/@the_.geekzip_.podcast?lang=enDon't forget to follow the guys on Facebook, Twitter, YouTube and Instagram. Contribute to the GeekZip Podcast through our official Patreon account, where as members, you'll receive exclusive content regularly! Email your questions and comments to geekzippodcast@gmail.com.Online news clips and stories by: comicbooknews.com, screenrant.com, ign.com, cosmicbook.news, fangoria.com, YouTube, Facebook, WWE, givemesport.com, wwfoldschool.com, wrestlezone.com, screencrush.com, variety.com, small-screen.co.uk, indiewire.com,  ihorror.com, comingsoon.net, cbr.com, rue-morgue.com, paramountartscenter.com, mountainhealtharena.com, chaswvccc.com, Time Warp-Ashland, KY, msn.com, eonline.com

Christmas time is here! Holiday happenings are brewing! Brent has one last dance at the San Jose Super Toy Show, and Sam heads to Maui and did some interviews at Maui Comic Con. First, Sam talks to the amazing JIM LAWSON, who has been drawing TMNT for over 30 years! He created some amazing comics for MIRAGE STUDIOS and his turtle designs have been made into NECA action figures. Next Sam speaks to comic book artist and graffiti outlaw, MARK BODE son of the fantastical VAUGN BODE, creator of CHEECH WIZARD. Mark shares his life in comics, his fathers legacy, and how to keep loved ones alive thru art. Finally Sam chats to the legend ERNIE REYES JR! Ernie is known for playing Leonardo's stunt double in TMNT 1 and KENO the pizza delivery driver in TMNT SECRET OF THE OOZE! He also starred in SURF NINJAS, RED SONYA, and 80's TV show SIDEKICKS! The boys also drop their end of year FIGURES OF THE YEAR, news, TV Things, and FINALLY some Holiday Sing Along WTTA style! ! Merry Christmas and Happy New Year from WHERE THE TOYS ARE! Check out our mentions and guests!NERO NAVA https://www.instagram.com/m.neronava/MAUI COMIC CONhttps://www.themauicomiccon.com/GUESTSJIM LAWSON - MIN: 00:46:10https://www.jimlawsonart.com/MARK BODE - MIN: 00:55:00https://www.markbode.com/ERNIE REYES JR. - MIN: 01:09:00https://www.instagram.com/erniereyesjrWHERE THE TOYS ARE THE PODCASThttps://linktr.ee/WTTAPodcast

Regarded as one of the biggest bombs of the '90s, we dive into Last Action Hero, Arnie's first real disappointment in Hollywood. (Yes, we know Red Sonya was a flop, but he was a Hollywood baby at that point.) From John McTiernan and Shane Black, starring Arnold Schwarzenegger, Austin O'Brien, Anthony Quinn, Charles Dance, F. Murray Abraham, Tom Noonan, Frank McRae, Bridgette Wilson, Mercedes Ruehl, Art Carney, and a ton of cameos. --- Support this podcast: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/thegenxfiles/support

What use is brute strength when the mind is under siege?A 5-part story By Blind_Justice & Loqui Sordida Ad Me. Listen to the Podcast at Explicit Novels.Preface: A grim, brutal sword-and-sandal adventure in the style of Robert E Howard, creator of characters like Conan the Barbarian, Soloman Kane, and Red Sonya (whom we pay homage to in this tale).The grim visage of a snarling war goddess carved into the prow cut a foaming trough through a particularly high wave as fifty slaves grunted with the effort of dragging their oars through the churning waters, spurred on by the pounding drum and the sting of the lash. Slicing through the choppy sea with the practiced grace of a harem dancer, the sleek bireme stalked her prey, her sail taut and a firm hand on her tiller. With the salt wind in his hair and the brine spray on his face, Ambrose smiled.Gods willing, the Tyrant’s Blade, would finally overtake Kelgore the Despoiler today, putting an end to the pirate king’s bloody rampage and filling Ambrose’s purse with coin. The dreaded pirate had pillaged his way along the Xhastrian coast, uncannily avoiding his pursuers through guile, bribery and masterful seamanship. The merchants and nobles of Xhastria called out for the God-King to put an end to Kelgore’s atrocities. Despite unleashing the considerable naval might of Xhastria upon him, Kelgore still evaded justice.And so the heavy bounty levied on Kelgore’s head was enough to pique the interest of every mercenary who could stomach a rolling deck beneath their feet.Ambrose counted himself lucky to have cut a deal and joined forces with a warrior-witch whose renown, if not already legendary, was certain to become so. He had once seen Red Tsonia’s prowess in battle for himself and it made his heart glad that she sailed under his banner, and not Kelgore’s.Tsonia, flame-haired, long-limbed and clad in a woolen cloak against the stinging wind and spray, shot him a fierce glare. “The storm draws closer, Captain,” she stated flatly. In any other, Ambrose would have expected at least a note of worry in the statement.“Aye, and Kelgore sails into its teeth!” he replied.Leaden clouds hung but a hand’s breadth above the slate-gray, foam-crested waves and the sky between was hidden behind a curtain of distant rain. Less than a scant league ahead of them the silhouette of Kelgore’s ship drew low in the water, over-burdened by its plundered cargo. A lance of lightning bisected the sky to the west but still Kelgore’s crew pulled hard for the rain shroud.“He means to lose us in the maelstrom,” Ambrose continued, barely audible over the groan of the oars, the howl of the wind and the roar of the waves around them. “But Tyrant’s Blade is lighter. Faster. We’ll be on him before he’s swallowed by the storm.”“We’ll both be in the gullet of that storm if the winds change,” Tsonia observed, bracing a hand against the rail as a heavy swell rolled the deck beneath her feet. “But I’d rather die than let the last fortnight’s hunt go to waste. Kelgore the Despoiler dies today, come hell or high water.”Ambrose, steady as always, leaned against the rudder to climb the steep swell and keep Kelgore in sight. “You might have both if that storm catches us,” he replied. Then to his crew he shouted “Make ready to cut away the sail lines! We’ll not waste time furling if the winds shift!’The bireme pitched up another undulating hillock of water, smashed across its foamy crest, and plunged down the far side towards a deep valley. For the moment, Kelgore was lost to sight in the sea’s rolling hills. Tsonia cursed and clambered snarling up the aft castle but Ambrose merely grinned. A great warrior she might be, he thought to himself, but she cannot brook losing sight of her quarry because she cannot read the ocean.Down and down the Tyrant’s Blade dived, gaining speed as the oarsmen pulled and the sail snapped. Down, until the valley floor rose to meet them, as Ambrose knew it would. The deck yawed hard and pitched up suddenly. Above him, Ambrose heard Tsonia curse again. The rising swell had caught the ship on its back and bore her aloft towards the iron clouds above.As the turbulent waves fell away on either side, a great shout went up from the crew, for dead ahead was Kelgore’s ship, her sail fallen slack, as the wind had turned."Cleave the lines!” shouted Ambrose, though he needn’t have bothered. His crew knew their jobs and let heavy axes fall across the hempen cables at the first sign that the sail might falter and drag. The heavy canvass flapped away in the headwind, an expensive sacrifice, but dreams of wealth beyond counting had made Ambrose and his crew reckless in their thirst for Kelgore’s blood.“He turns!” shouted Tsonia from the aft castle. “Kelgore means to fight!”Thunder exploded and another fork of lightning stabbed at the sea, as if to portend the inevitable battle to come. Ahead, Ambrose could see the broadside of Kelgore’s ship turning towards them, two banks of oars dragging in the water on her port side. Kelgore’s limp sail suddenly snapped taut as it caught hold of the shifted headwind.“Ramming speed!" Ambrose bellowed. The tempo of the drum quickened and the oars beat a staccato rhythm through the violent sea. Tyrant’s Blade lurched forward into the wind like a mad dog broken free of its lead."To the bow Tsonia, and ready your blade!” he shouted up to the top of the castle.She leapt down from the roof and threw off her spray-sparkled cloak. In nothing more than a cropped halter of tarnished chainmail and a kilt of the same, Tsonia sprinted towards the front of the ship. Her sandaled step held her balance on the capricious deck and she drew a wickedly curved scimitar from its scabbard as she ran, the perfect weapon to maul unprotected flesh with quick, wide slashes.From the tiller, Ambrose couldn’t help but admire Red Tsonia’s shapely figure as she stood at the head of the mercenary crew, one hand braced against the ship’s high prow, the other idly testing the weight of her sword, her crimson locks tossed behind by the shrieking gale. Once again, lightning split the sky and thunder rolled a warning omen as the ship bore heedlessly down on its prey.“There’s a sight to daunt a man’s soul,” Ambrose said to the figure in the bright tangerine cloak who emerged from the castle. “Two fell goddesses bearing down on you with murder in their eyes. By the gods man, that’s a scene you ought to paint!”“Yes,” agreed Joras, taking in the volatile chaos unfolding before him and clinging tightly to a rail. “But to capture the proper perspective, I’d need to be on Kelgore’s ship.”Even amidst the roar of the waves and the booming thunderclaps, the impact of Tyrant’s Blade against Kelgore’s galley was ear-shattering. The heavy bronze-clad ram that the war goddess figurehead sat astride pierced the side of Kelgore’s ship in a cacophony of bursting planks, splintering oars, and wailing men as wood and flesh were torn asunder.Tsonia, nimble like a prowling cougar, used the force of the impact to propel herself onto the other ship’s deck feet first, toppling a bleeding sailor feebly clutching at half an oar sticking from his gut. She hoisted his mangled body up by an arm and tossed it towards a cluster of dumbfounded pirates stumbling in from the wounded ship’s prow, creating a gap big enough to allow Ambrose’s men to follow her onto the deck.And follow her they did, using a precariously placed boarding plank, hacking and stabbing at everything their short blades and heavy bludgeons could reach.“Keep them off me while I fetch Kelgore’s head!” she bellowed over the chaos just as sheets of rain began to pour from the roiling clouds above. Another peal of thunder rolled above the din, the deck heaved erratically beneath her feet, and Tsonia charged blindly into the deluge with no doubt she would find Kelgore at the helm, wrangling the ship and his men both.Her scimitar darted this way and that, finding ample bodies to carve open. Across the perilous deck Tsonia danced through the rainfall, plucking a wickedly barbed harpoon from the feebly twitching hand of a pirate she had just eviscerated.Over the cries of the wounded and dying and the drumming of the rain she heard a gurgling moan. Through the turmoil emerged a hulking, misshapen brute bearing down on her. A head taller and twice as wide as she, the grotesque creature hefted a gargantuan mace, the head a sharp-edged lump of dark matter lined with scintillating veins of a viridian mineral. Heedless if it hit friend or foe, the giant swept the weapon across the deck, felling a handful of his allies and clearing ample space for Tsonia.The visage of the brute was truly hideous, his features half-melted and covered in purulent boils of some fell disease. One eye was of a sickly green hue, the other of a brilliant blue. Unbridled rage flared in both as he roared, spit flying from swollen lips, rivulets of rain water trickling over thickly corded muscle. The mace came up to drive Tsonia through the deck like a nail but the flame-haired warrior was faster. With the force of a ballista she hurled the harpoon, the ghastly weapon tearing through the giant’s throat in a shower of gore. Like a grisly monument, the barbed head protruded from the back of his neck. Spewing blood and madly flailing at the object jutting from his jugular, the giant went to his knees. At last, he managed to grasp the heft of the weapon and pulled, ending his own miserable existence in self-defeating agony.A hail of arrows came down around Tsonia. Some missiles hit the fallen giant's back, others vanished overboard and into the roiling sea below. Tsonia peered through the torrent at the shadows of men atop the aft castle trying to unleash another volley of feathered death her way. For all the guile their master had displayed during his cunning evasion of the God-King’s might, his minions seemed to lack the fundamentals of warfare. No sound tactician would even consider archers in weather like this, but here they were.Chuckling to herself, Tsonia dashed towards the aft castle, her bloodstained weapon and fierce gaze enough to give pause to many a defender. Those too brave or foolish to flee she cut down as she ran, her curved blade carving horrible wounds into their bodies, only protected by wet cloth and unholy sigils tattooed onto their skin by blasphemous artists.By the time the third salvo scattered onto the precariously tilted deck, she dove headlong through the sodden curtain covering the castle’s entrance tucking into a shoulder-roll to avoid any hidden ambush. The sharpened prongs of a barbed trident scored the rain-splattered planks behind her and the anticipated defender readied his weapon for another attack. Tsonia lithely came to her feet. Her opponent, a half-naked Xhastrian with oiled skin and ceremonial braids in his coal-black hair had the greater reach, but he didn’t have her strength. She flung her scimitar spinning pommel over blade, causing him to evade to the side just as she expected. Grabbing his trident behind the viciously barbed tips, Tsonia pulled, breaking his balance and forcing him to stumble forwards or lose his weapon.The Xhastrian decided not to relinquish the trident and, thinking her unarmed and less dangerous, even put his weight behind it, hoping to put her off-balance. Tsonia let him push, allowing the weapon to glance off her shoulder. Too late the Xhastrian realized what her true plan was, but by the time he tried to pry her hands off his temples, it was too late. One quick snap to the side and the man’s neck broke. Tsonia tossed his limp body aside, scowling at the gash the trident had carved into her fair skin. The wound was already closing, her black blood hardening into a protective scab. In an hour, only the ghost of a scar would tell the tale of this exchange. A day later, even that ghost would only be a memory.Reclaiming her sword, Tsonia looked around. Another curtain covered the only other exit from the castle’s main cabin. Above the patter of rain and frantic footfalls on the roof above, Tsonia heard urgent muttering from beyond the curtain, syllables of a knotty language she knew all too well.Snarling in anger, Tsonia burst into the room beyond the curtain. Runes and sigils had been smeared onto the planks and the stink of death and magic was heavy in the air. A wizened old crone, naked but for bloody symbols painted onto her saggy skin, held the bleeding corpse of a young girl in her arms. A crimson gash on the girl’s throat told Tsonia all she needed to know. The storm tossing them about was not borne of nature, but of demonic forces.“Do not trifle with me, sell-sword,” the hag wheezed, brandishing a knife made from some large predator’s tooth. “I alone hold the storm’s true fury at bay.”The weather-witch rammed the blade into the girl’s chest, drawing thick red heart-blood. Like a living entity, the trail of blood curled upwards like a charmed serpent while the crone sang, enticing unspeakable powers from beyond the veil to do her bidding. Tsonia lunged forward to interrupt the unholy spell being invoked before her, the scimitar in her hand a crimson-stained arc of steel as she aimed for the crone’s neck.The weapon tore through flesh and bone, separating the still muttering skull from the neck it had sat upon. Blood fountained and the grinning head bounced off the floor, coming to rest near the veiled exit.“Take your lies to the Pits for all I care,” she growled, just as the planks beneath her feet rocked as if struck by an angry titan and the drumming rain above her intensified.There was a horrified yell from outside, even audible over the roar of the waves and the howl of the wind piercing every tiny opening in the ship’s hull. A moment later a horrible impact ripped through the aft castle. Beams cracked and planks split as a large weight slammed into the ceiling.“What in the Burning Hells have you done?” a cultured voice demanded to know.Tsonia tore her gaze away from the torrent of water sluicing through the shattered castle and pooling around her ankles. She saw his eyes first, black like twin obsidian beads piercing her with a gaze of dark nothingness. Behind those eyes, the man who clambered through the castle wreckage was tall and handsome despite sodden, battle-worn raiment. Long hair of sable hung wet and dripping past his sharp cheekbones and an angry snarl curled his thin lips as he snatched the severed head from the surging foam.“I have given your demon-kisser what she damn well deserved,” Tsonia spat, struggling to place her feet for a quick strike. But the heaving deck gave no quarter and left her clutching at the broken walls for balance.“You have damned us all, you stupid cow!” the empty-eyed man growled. “Like demons, storms are easy to summon but nigh impossible to control. And you just slew the one person who might have done so!”If possible, the hungry storm outside intensified, howling wind cutting through every tiny gap in the ship’s hull like the wail of unquiet dead. Ferocious waves tossed the ship. With a crash of splintering wood, a seismic wave shook the broken structure as the fragile ships were smashed together in the turbulent gale. There suddenly was the rush of water, very loud and very near.Tsonia found herself drawn to his stoic magnetism, and recognized the force of his presence instinctively. This man could be none other than Kelgore himself. His ebon eyes marked him as demonically debased, just as her own black blood marked her. It explained much about his wild success against the Xhastrians.“Since you seem to know so much about demons and storms, you must be Kelgore,” Tsonia bellowed over the clangor of the storm. “My hunt has come to an end at last!”Heedless of the precarious surroundings, Tsonia lunged, her blade aiming for the dread pirate’s heart. But the blow never connected.A murderous god’s fist shook the world as another mighty wave crashed down upon the interlocked and damaged ships. Already crippled, Kelgore’s vessel finally broke. Wood tore like paper, friend and foe were tossed like rice grains in a tornado. A widening circle of debris was tossed about by the raging waves. And Tsonia was in the midst of it all, sinking into the fathomless depths, the taunting smile of Kelgore still before her eyes.How had it all gone so wrong, Joras wondered as he clung to the rail of the tossing ship. Two weeks ago it had started out as such a pleasant adventure. The ocean breeze was warm and spiced with the scent of salt and pitch. The sea birds heralded Tyrant’s Blade as they followed the coastline under sail, saving the strength of the oarsmen. He’d filled pages of his sketchbook with Tsonia, Ambrose, and the crew.Why, he’d even managed to sketch a school of gamboling spout-fish as they playfully followed in the ship’s wake.But then two days ago the lookout had spotted the billowing smoke over the ruins of a fishing village, and soon after the lone ship that sailed away. The pleasant hunting cruise had turned into a grim pursuit as all aboard saw the Xhastrian reward close enough to claim. The seas grew choppy and the skies grew dark. The seabirds fell behind and the salt spray threatened his sketches as they chased Kelgore out into the open ocean.Joras was glad to have his precious pages wrapped in oil cloth and stowed safely in the aft castle, but it meant the image of Tsonia leaping from the crashing prow into the throng of pirates had to be roughed out in his memory alone and he always seemed to lose the little details that brought a painting of his muse to life.He wished he had the fortitude to follow Tsonia to the bow, to see and record the way Tyrant’s Blade pierced the other ship like a violent lover. From aft, he lost sight of Tsonia in the skirmish. All he could see was the feeble attempts of Kelgore’s oarsmen to dislodge the intruding ram. But the two small vessels were too tightly conjoined. Kelgore’s sail dragged the pair spiraling through the tempestuous waves and Ambrose held his rudder to pry deeper into the broken hull.With a crack of thunder the sky suddenly tore open and a deluge of rain overwhelmed sight and sound. Joras couldn’t make out more than shadows through the downpour. He clung to the railing as the deck dropped away beneath his feet, and then heaved upwards again.“The storm’s gotten worse,” he remarked with as casual a tone as he could muster while shouting to be heard.“It has,” agreed Ambrose, leaning all his weight against the tiller while straining to see the battle at the front of his ship.“Of course, I’m sure you’ve seen worse,” Joras added, trying to sound confident. “I’m sure you’ve survived dozens of squalls worse than this.”Thunder ripped the air again, and through the veil of rain Joras saw a blinding spike of lightning drive through the mast of Kelgore’s ship, shattering it like summer hay under the flail.“No,” Ambrose turned to face Joras and Joras saw the fear in the captain’s eyes. “No, this is the kind of storm that turns fishermen into farmers.”“It’s funny,” Joras yelled. “The farmers have the opposite saying about droughts.”Ambrose didn’t laugh. He abandoned the tiller to swing wildly to and fro at the whims of an angry ocean and joined Joras at the rail. Reaching into his soaking tunic, Ambrose tore a large key from the lanyard around his neck and forced into Joras hand.“Go below and free the oar-slaves,” he shouted. “None of us may survive, but I’ll not condemn them to certain death. I’ve got to tell the crew to save themselves.” With that grim instruction, Ambrose drew a brass-hilted cutlass and fought his way forward against the tide of the raging storm.The terror Joras had been wrestling with broke free and he felt its oppressive weight on his chest, buckling his knees and squeezing the air from his lungs. He’d faced peril and death often enough since he had decided to follow Red Tsonia on her quest for fame and glory, but always at the hands of a foe that could be defeated. How does one slay a storm? He could not depend on the unmatched prowess of his muse to save him this time. It was up to him.Joras summoned what courage he could find, and steeled himself to the task at hand. After Kelgore’s ship had been rammed, the crew had all gone to fight and had left the oar-slaves to recover their strength. Below his feet were fifty souls chained to their benches and Joras alone held their fates quite literally in his hand. Willing himself to release his iron grip on the rail, he charged across the pitching deck, lost his footing and tumbled through the open hatch and down the steep flight of stairs.He landed with a splash and clambered to his feet gasping for air in waist-deep water. If the maelstrom above was chaotic, the bedlam below was nightmarish. The howls of terrified men in the sightless dark drowned out the creak and groan of the stressed timber and the splash of churning water. The slaves pulled at their chains and beat at their restraints with chunks of broken wood or even their raw flesh. They knew Tyrant’s Blade was sinking, and that they had been abandoned to die.“Where are the locks!?” Joras cried over the din, desperately trying to get someone’s attention. “I have your key! By the gods, where are the locks?”As the water continued to rise, sloshing from side to side as the forsaken ship rolled in the angry storm, Joras was blindly herded towards the bow. With grasping hands guided by barely coherent cries of instruction, he found a stout padlock securing a heavy brass chain. It ran the length of the ship, passing through the shackle of each slave manning the twelve upper oars on that side. Fitting the key by touch, he turned it and released the chain.With a frantic jangle of metal, the first lucky group of oarsmen freed themselves and clambered over each other in a frenzied flight for the hatch. Those who remained bound wailed for their release even louder than before as Joras sought desperately in the dark for a matching lock on the opposite side of the hold. He found it at last, fumbled with the key, and was rewarded with a satisfying metallic clank.But as the second group of slaves fled the doomed vessel and the water crept up towards Joras’s chest, he realized with horror that the men on the lower banks of oars were secured with their own chains and locks, locks that were fastened under the churning floodwaters. Trapped below the benches of the upper oarsmen, the lower slaves were unable to even stand fully, and craned their necks to keep their shrieking faces above the rising water.Taking a deep breath, Joras dropped below the surface and found himself battered about by the surging flood. He clung to any handhold he could find in the dark, groping blindly for the hidden lock with the taste of metal on his tongue as he clenched the key in his teeth.His lungs began to burn and he feared his quest was in vain. His instincts screamed for the surface and life-giving air, but his will dwelt on the plight of those men who had no hope beyond him. Just as his will was foundering and his fear grew beyond his control, Joras’s fingers found the familiar curve of a padlock ring. Feeling for the keyhole with his thumb, he gracelessly jammed in the key and managed to turn it just as his instinct drove him back to the surface.There was no time to catch his breath. He had to go back for the key he’d left behind before he could even begin to search for the last lock. The inches of air that remained for the agonized men bound to the last oar benches waxed and waned as the waters sloshed back and forth with the rolling of the storm-tossed ship.And so back down Joras went, but in the swirling currents of the flooded hold he found that he had no more idea where to find the lock than he had the first time.Panic and guilt gripped Joras’s heart as he clawed desperately in the dark for the missing key. Had he really been so foolish as to lose it? Why had he not held his breath but a scant second longer? He endured the agony in his lungs to his very limit but had to come up for air empty-handed. The pitiful pleas of the doomed men that filled his ears sent him right back under the water with barely a breath.Then, through the crude woodwork he clung to, Joras felt more than heard the terrible creaking of timber and the shattering of the ship’s beam. He was suddenly seized by a mighty current that tore away his grip and flushed him tumbling through the dark water head over heels into the ravaged ocean until he lost all perception of up or down.Lungs aflame with need, Joras thrashed and fought in vain, weighed down by his sturdy traveling clothes and heavy orange cloak. He felt his consciousness collapsing, his limbs growing heavy, the water seeping towards his lungs. As the silence and the blackness took him, Joras found some small justice in knowing that he shared the same fate as the chained men he had failed.And suddenly there was blinding light and thunderous noise and wracking pain in his chest as he hacked and sputtered on the surface of the turbulent sea.“I should never have mocked your garish wardrobe!” shouted a familiar voice over the prattle of the rain. “The orange of your cloak is the only thing to be seen in this downpour!”“Kaela!" Joras gasped! "Gods be praised!”Tsonia dunked Joras back under the water before he had found breath. “I’ve told you not to call me that,” she admonished when she’d pulled him coughing back into the air. “And don’t give thanks too soon. This storm is ravenous, and we are still in its maw.”With powerful strokes, Tsonia dragged Joras through the rolling swells to a broken chunk of flotsam and there they clung as the witch’s storm raged around them.The first thing Ambrose saw when his senses returned was the war goddess, now a malformed, headless husk of bronze sitting astride a bent ram pointing at the churning skies above. Coughing up briny water, he forced himself into a sitting position and tried to comprehend the enormity of the destruction surrounding him.Tyrant’s Blade was no more. The prow, reinforced as it had been, loomed like a macabre monument over the bone-white beach he had found himself on. Dark shapes had washed up on the sand, splintered planks, scattered bodies, their limbs and spines twisted and broken, gulls pecking at their remains. Nothing seemed to move apart from the clouds overhead and the waves rushing up to meet the sand, occasionally depositing another piece of flotsam on the shore.Ambrose had been through his fair share of catastrophes, some self-inflicted, some visited upon him by his enemies or the capricious nature of the sea. None had even come close to the horrors he had witnessed in those last, lightning-struck moments. Torrential waves had washed men overboard screaming. Both ships had broken apart under the churning sea’s relentless assault. Ambrose too had been ripped from the deck of his trusty vessel into the pitch-black maws of the raging ocean and battered between broken timbers.Somehow, he had survived. The denizens of the deep didn’t fancy his soul this time. They didn’t let him off easy either.Moaning softly, he clutched his throbbing head. His fingers found a long gash along his temple. The cut was shallow but burned like the fires of hell. Breathing hurt too. With trembling fingers, Ambrose examined his sore rump, encountering bruises and cuts but thankfully no broken bones. Carefully testing his limbs, Ambrose fought to his knees and then his feet. His left ankle ached when he put weight upon it, but then his whole body sang in pain.Grabbing half an oar to steady himself, he dragged himself up the beach, away from the greedy ocean. Maybe fifty yards ahead, a veritable wall of green awaited him. Towering trees, sail-sized leaves and vines promised a nigh-impenetrable thicket, probably rife with sharp-toothed predators longing for easy prey. And beyond those viridian fortifications, spitting an ominous plume of smoke, a steep-sloped volcano loomed.Ambrose sighed. Finding his way off these inhospitable shores would be no easy feat. He had to assume he wasn’t the only survivor and there was a good chance that others might be Kelgore’s men, out to finish what the storm had started.Now further away from the crashing waves, Ambrose could hear other noises too, most of them unsettling and ominous. Echoing screeches or howls emanated from the jungle and a low, sonorous rumble seemed to come up through his feet, announcing that the volcano was much less quiet than he had hoped. His hand went to the sheath at his belt, but his prized blade had vanished in the maelstrom, torn from his fingers by the ravenous waters.He cast his gaze about in the vain hopes to spot it or something similar nearby, now keenly aware that he was among the few things moving on that beach and therefore easily spotted by friend and foe alike. Cursing his ankle, he hobbled back towards the shoreline, aiming for the closest pile of debris. There was no storage chest, no rack of weapons with blades, spears and axes to be found. Only a couple of pews, their construction sturdy enough to withstand a slave revolt were close at hand. A section of hull was still bolted to them. Ambrose couldn’t tell if it was a part of Tyrant’s Blade or Kelgore’s ship. There were no bodies he recognized either way. Sighing, he sank onto one of the pews, taking weight off his aching leg.Once more the stranded captain gazed at the sky. It was hard to tell the time of day, with the clouds roiling overhead. Even worse, it was hard to tell where he was. They had followed Kelgore’s ship along the Xhastrian coast before the pirate had steered away to the west, towards the open seas and out of the reach of the Green Cities. There shouldn’t have been any land in that direction, not even scattered islands were marked on the maps he had memorized so well in his years at the helm of Tyrant’s Blade. Yet here he was, on an unfamiliar beach with one leg impaired, no weapons to speak of, and a growing feeling of vulnerability and unease creeping up his spine. He would need food, water, and shelter to survive, warmth to dry himself and weapons to guard against his enemies, be they two- or four-legged.About to resume his trawl of the beach, he steadied himself for the inevitable stab of pain from his ankle when he heard voices coming closer. Muffled by the thick wood between himself and the voices, he couldn’t tell friend from foe. Bating his breath, he allowed them to pass him by, his body hidden in the shadow of the torn hull.And then Ambrose’s heart leapt with joy, for the scarlet tresses he saw could belong to only one person.“Tsaugh,” he croaked, not realizing how dry his throat was, or how blistered his lips. “Tson,” he tried again, but loud enough now to be heard over the crashing surf.Tsonia turned, and Joras with her. Both were sunburned and blistered, crusted with salt and sand. Joras leaned heavily on her shoulder, his footsteps faltering in the loose sand. Her hands were bloody to the wrist, and in one she carried a sandy thigh-bone that Ambrose preferred not to contemplate. Yet the smile that graced her lips was perhaps the loveliest thing he had ever laid eyes upon.“Do not try to speak,” she whispered when she had come back close enough to be heard. Her voice was dry and hoarse as well, but she gently sat Joras down upon the bench and leaned the two men into each other for support. The bloody femur she placed in Ambrose’s hand, closing his fingers around it like a cudgel.“Look after each other,” she wheezed. “I’ll find water and be back.”From his shoulder, Joras unslung an empty water gourd in a woven hanger, its stopper dangling by its tether. They must have found it washed ashore among the wreckage, or perhaps bobbing along with them as they drifted on the waves. Just as Joras handed the gourd up to Tsonia, they all looked up with a start.From the jungle came the sonorous rhythm of drums.“Where there are people,” Tsonia said with a smile, “there must be water.”The jungle canopy cast dancing shadows across the surface of the rippling pool that filled the hillside hollow. It was broad and deep, fed by a gurgling spring and surrounded by moss-covered stones and twisted tree roots. From the low end of the pond a trickle of water overflowed its basin and tumbled splashing down the hill, through the jungle, and eventually across the sandy beach to the sea. The small stream was too shallow and too sparse to slake a dying man’s thirst. Any who wished to drink deeply would have to follow the water upstream to the spring.And so by the spring, Kelgore waited.“The drums are moving,” he said. “They were coming from that direction. Now they’re over there.”“No, not moving,” came the reply. “Different drums. Different people. Only the message moves.”Kelgore thought about it and admitted silently to himself that it was probably true.“We should go. We should seek out those drums and turn the natives to our cause. Perhaps they can return us to civilized lands.”“No,” answered Kelgore. “We wait. Any of my men who wash ashore will find their way here. I would rather face the natives with a loyal force at my back.”“It’s dangerous. Any of the sell-swords who wash ashore will also find their way here.”“Then I will turn them to my cause or they will die.” Kelgore thumbed the blade of his knife before securing it snuggly back in its sheath.“Don’t be a fool, boy! You let your prejudice for culture and sophistication blind you. You were born to rule over all men, not just the civilized sheep of the Green Cities. Find these natives and lead them to the throne that is your destiny!”“Quiet, mother!" Kelgore snapped. "Someone’s coming.”The old corne’s severed head sat wedged in the crook of a tree branch where Kelgore hid watching the jungle pool. For too long the old witch had brow-beaten his obedience, but the tables had turned. It was she who was now dependent upon him. If he chose to feed her to the gulls or the fish, there was nothing she could do about it. He smirked with that confidence. Ignoring her scowl, he turned his attention back to the approaching footsteps.Through the jungle thicket across the pond, he spied her red hair first. He recognized her immediately, the vixen-warrior who had cut down his mother in cold blood and condemned them all to these savage shores. Unless he missed his guess, she was the mercenary known as Red Tsonia or Bloody Tsonia depending on who spun her tale. Kelgore once thought it presumptuous that she should take the name of the ancient warrior queen, but having seen her quality in person, he thought it might be apt after all.“Kill her!” hissed his mother, beneath the drone of the beating drums, the calls of tropical birds, and the rustle of the foliage in the sea breeze. “Avenge me!”“Shush!” he insisted.The flame-haired warrior spied the pool of sweet water and broke into a run. She dropped to her knees and scooped double handfuls to her mouth, letting the excess spill down her chest and stomach and thighs. When she had drunk her fill, she took an empty water gourd from her shoulder and plunged it bubbling beneath the surface.When she withdrew the gourd, Kelgore saw her hesitate before plugging it with its stopper. She looked back over her shoulder, then turned to face the drums in the distance. She sat for a moment in contemplation and then poured the water slowly over her own head, rolling her neck and massaging the clean water through her salt-stiffened hair.Tsonia closed her eyes, luxuriating in the cool water that rinsed away the ocean’s residue.Kelgore saw his chance to ambush her, to strike swiftly in her vulnerability, but he tarried.Tsonia filled the gourd again to finish rinsing her hair. She wiped the sand and grime from her face, and poured the last of the water down her chest. Kelgore could feel his manhood swell as Tsonia laid the gourd aside and pulled the ragged chainmail vest off over her head, exposing her ample breasts.“I would have her,” he murmured, as she bathed her bare shoulders, chest, and midriff by the burbling jungle spring. “I shall turn her to our cause and I shall have her.”“Fool!” spat his mother. “This is no fish-monger’s daughter, no doe-eyed waif. She is demon tainted, much as you were.”“Yes,” agreed Kelgore, feeling the lust rising in his chest as he watched Tsonia bathe. “But just think of the grandchildren she could give you.”“Dozens of bellies swell with my grandchildren all along the Xhastrian coast. How many grandchildren do I need?”“My mind is set and I shall not be dissuaded, mother. Now be silent, or will feed your tongue to the gulls!”“You’ve grown insolent since that bitch killed me,” he heard her grumble under her breath, but she said no more.Across the pond, Tsonia filled the gourd again, then stood and began to unfasten the chainmail skirt that hung from her shapely hips. Kelgore felt a certain satisfaction when he saw her jump as he stepped out from the cover of vines and thicket. He held his hands empty at his sides, but there was a hypnotic twinkle in his obsidian eyes.“You can be none other than Red Tsonia,” he called to her. “I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced.”Her eyes roamed over him, taking his measure. They lingered on his groin for a heartbeat before wandering higher, meeting his eye. Before he could exert his formidable will through his demon-tainted eyes though, she bent low and poured water from the gourd into her palm, continuing her bath. Kelgore exhaled slowly. Dumb luck made her evade his beguiling gaze this time, but there would be ample opportunity.“Sneaking up on me while I’m bathing isn’t the wisest course of action,” Tsonia said, her wet hands roaming her muscular thighs.“And yet, you seem oddly at ease for being naked and helpless,” Kelgore said.Tsonia poured more water, slowly rinsing her hips and the faint tuft of mousy brown fuzz covering her femininity.“What makes you think I’m helpless?” she wondered. “In less than a heartbeat, I could be at your throat, gutting you with that knife on your belt and you would be helpless to stop me.”Kelgore closed his hand around the bronze-wound hilt of his knife. “Then why don’t you? You were sent to kill me, were you not?”Unperturbed, Tsonia washed her sex, her face hidden by her unbound mane of fiery tresses. “Indeed. The God-King gave me ample reason to slay you on the spot. But until I know how to return to Xhastria to claim the reward, I’d rather not have to carry around a decaying corpse.” Her head came up, flashing a cocky smile.Kelgore cleared his throat, ready to employ his charming voice as he’d done so often with officials and paupers both, nudging their inhibitions aside, making them listen to what Kelgore deemed reasonable. “I might be willing to follow you,” he crooned, his sultry voice reverberating in a certain way. “There is no reason for us to be enemies, at least not for the time being. You will find me a very willing hostage. Let it be said that Kelgore knows how to please.”He relinquished the hilt of his knife and caressed the sizable bulge in his robes, the embers of lust flaring to fiery life. Not only did he relish the sight of the naked warrior before him, her ample curves and taut limbs promising exhausting revelry, but the feeling of his mind ensnaring hers, the delicious sensation of his hypnotic tendrils exerting their subtle, yet overwhelming influence. Oh how he would delight in ravishing her, coaxing unspeakable pleasure from her body and mind both!Tsonia had stopped washing herself. Instead she swayed gently to the cadence of his words, her hands wandering her body, as if she were presenting herself for his approval, a quizzical smile on her ruby lips. “What do you have in mind?” she wondered.“Take hold of me,” Kelgore murmured, parting the salt-stiffened fabric of his clothes and offering his throbbing lance for her fingers. His free hand touched her luxurious, wet mane of fiery tresses, guiding her face towards his yearning manhood. Her breath was hot on his skin and her lust rushed up through his fingertips as they touched her scalp.At her touch, Kelgore’s vision blurred as he latched on to one of her secrets, wrapped in shadows at the edge of her mind, but right at the surface where the most important secrets are always kept. Kelgore became Tsonia. He saw through her eyes, heard through her ears, and relived the memory she wanted to bury but couldn’t.He was bound naked to an altar made from some strange green rock. The surface had been polished smooth by aeons of use. Thousands of bodies had languished here until they met their demise. Icons wrought from ribs and spines and skulls adorned torch lit alcoves. Naked priests and priestesses, their bodies painted with unholy symbols writhed around the altar, their voices brittle from hours of chanting. And towering over him, confusion and lust flickering in its monstrous eyes, was the jackal-headed demon Q'alan, his jet-black skin slick with sweat, his prodigious erection dripping with hellish seed.“More.” Kelgore heard himself beg through Tsonia’s swollen lips. The burning taste of demon seed clogged his throat. Patches of the vile stuff caked his breasts, his stomach. A veritable lake of it pooled under his behind. And his hand wandered downwards, splaying open his hungry cunt for the demon to see. Thick rivulets of demonic seeds, mixed with virginal blood dribbled over his fingers and onto the stained altar.“Give me more,” Tsonia’s voice demanded as she spread her legs as far as the chains around her ankles allowed. She rammed two fingers into her sex, displacing another gob of the foul seed. “You are not sated yet, are you?”Her voice was hoarse and rough, but there was something in it, a force even the mighty Q'alan could not resist. Growling, hot spittle dripping from its jagged teeth, it grasped Tsonia’s hips. A large, bulbous sensation pressed against her rear, demanding entry to that as-of-yet unspoiled orifice. Tsonia groaned and wailed as the demonic phallus forced her open, but her moans turned to cries of ecstasy as Q'alan’s mighty spear filled her up. The demon gasped and frothed at the maw as it relentlessly pounded her, trying to break that insolent human who dared to challenge him.And yet, he couldn’t. He was as much a slave to her body as she was helpless to escape the pummeling Q'alan unleashed upon her.Hours passed in a moment of Kelgore’s memory. The jackal-headed demon took Tsonia every which way, pouring unending streams of his demonic seed down her throat, cunt, or ass. His claws left bloody furrows in her unblemished flesh, but the wounds seemed to heal as soon as he gouged them. And instead of tiring, becoming weaker under his monstrous assault, she seemed to thrive, urging him on for another fuck.And then the unthinkable happened. Q'alan tired. His rampant shaft, which had been erect for days and able to spew gallons of his demonic fluids, flagged. Tsonia, breasts heaving in heat, grinned wantonly up at him. One of the chains holding her arms to the altar had broken and she beckoned, curling her fingers at her cum-streaked lips.“Have me drink from your well once more, oh mighty Q'alan,” she groaned, her body making disgusting, sucking sounds as she slithered on the cum-slick stones. “Your seed is sweet nectar to me.”Q'alan threw his head about in irritation. The priests and priestesses, by now only whispering their binding chants in hoarse, broken voices, were barely able to stand. Snarling, he lashed out, cutting open a priest from head to groin. Hot, bloody intestines fell to the floor in sloshing tangles. The man was too hoarse to even scream as his life cascaded onto the befouled tiles. But the deed was done. The circle was broken. Q'alan was no longer bound.Spitting curses upon his inept cult, the jackal-headed monster vanished in a gout of foul-smelling vapor, leaving behind a tangle of confused and fear-stricken priests. When they saw Tsonia reach for the second chain holding her body to the altar, the cultists clambered over one another to flee from the torch lit catacomb.The chain broke as Tsonia flexed her arm, her body infused with Q'alan’s hellish strength. There were no wounds. There was no pain, not even from her ravaged nethers which the demon had abused for uncountable hours. Her bones were stronger than the rusted shackles tethering her to the soiled stone altar and she broke them with contemptuous ease.Tsonia came to her feet, wishing she could break her mother’s neck as easily as she could break these chains. Kelgore understood how Tsonia’s own mother had offered her virgin daughter to Q'alan for the promise of influence, riches and power.His vision snapped back, the flickering images of the underground crypt replaced with the twilit glade. There were no chanting priests, just the irritated chatter of jungle birds and the unceasing beat of the distant drums. He was standing next to the spring, his fingers entwined in Tsonia’s magnificent locks, her lips locked around his throbbing manhood, her tongue a fluttering sensation almost as sweet as the taste of the secret he had plucked from her.“Yes,” he purred, slowly rolling his hips forwards. “You and I shall make a fine pair. Demon-blessed, you and I. The world will tremble at our offspring’s might!”Her answer was a hungry growl deep in her throat. Strong hands dug into his buttocks and her mouth exerted delicious suction. This was different from the scared waifs he had coerced into his bedchambers, different from the docile noblewomen he had twisted and broken for his amusement.Kelgore found it hard to find words under Tsonia’s dexterous assault. One hand dove under his clothes, finding his sac. Expertly, her calloused fingers caressed his balls.He didn’t dare use his voice, for fear of inadvertently breaking the spell he had just put upon her. None of his prior victims had displayed such vigor under his control. But then, he never had tried charming another demon-touched being before.Tsonia’s growl had turned into a playful purr. One hand pumped his shaft, her other was busy between her own thighs. Kelgore slowly fucked her glorious mouth, amazed at how deep she was able to take his lance. She spurred him on with moans, with a clawed hand to his buttocks and he obliged, feeding her his shaft until his loins curled up in that all-too familiar sensation of imminent release.Once more he drove his lance home, eagerly devoured by the red-headed temptress kneeling by the spring, and hot spurts of seed poured from him. Kelgore loosened a triumphant yell as his body shook from an almighty climax, more satisfying and visceral than anything those tepid Xhastrian whores had been able to coax from him!A low, ominous growl answered him, shattering the magic of the moment. Kelgore’s spell, tenuous as it had been, faded away. Tsonia, Kelgore’s seed dripping down her chin, shook her head as if she had just woken from a perturbing dream. Her eyes caught him, robes wide open, his erection still proudly on display and a grim expression settled on her beautiful face, promising the inevitability of untold torment.A flicker of comprehension dawned and she flung herself at him, tearing his knife from its sheath as she barreled into him. They tumbled into the grass. Tsonia, gloriously naked and wet sat astride his prone form, one hand a crushing vise around his throat, the knife hovering above his eye, poised for a lethal descent.“I don’t know what fell magic's you employed on me, but I hope for your sake there is a good reason why I have your taste all over my mouth!”Kelgore, stunned by her sudden fury and for once at a loss for words, noticed movement in the branches above. A tall, man-like shadow watched with unknowable intent. Two more shades silently joined on adjacent branches. They carried nets made from vines and short spears tipped with stone points. Inquisitive eyes flicked this way and that. Their heads inclined as if in conversation, but whatever whispers they uttered were unheard over the rumble of the drums.There was no air to breathe. There was no air to bargain with. He could wait and hope the strangers would free him from Tsonia’s grasp, but Kelgore doubted he could hold on for that long. He’d rather take his chances with her than the ominous strangers. Croaking a warning, he raised his arm, pointing.Tsonia opened her mouth in a stillborn question. Before she could give words to her thoughts, a feathered dart sprouted from her neck. On instinct, Tsonia pulled it free, relinquishing Kelgore’s throat. Greedily, he sucked air into his burning lungs as Tsonia came to her feet, warily searching for the attackers.Ever the opportunist, Kelgore grasped the chance at freedom. He mustered his voice. “Drop the knife!”Tsonia obeyed, relinquishing his blade. Then her fighting instincts took over and she tumbled to the side, just as tall, muscular shapes arose from the undergrowth around them. Kelgore plucked his weapon from the ground and came to his feet in a scrabbling run, sprinting towards the tree where he had left his mother’s head. The first dart missed him by a finger’s breadth, but the second found its mark.A soothing calm fell over Kelgore as he stood there, watching Tsonia naked and grappling with a green-skinned savage. Slowly sinking to his knees, he was certain he saw Tsonia’s hips roll in a particular motion against that man’s groin. An irrational burst of jealousy gripped his heart. How could she still be so full of energy while he only wanted to sprawl on the floor and sleep until that beautiful tranquility had passed? How was she so willing to copulate with a beastly savage while he was here, still horribly aching for her body?The last thing Kelgore saw before sleep took him was a grinning face, tongue wagging as someone or something slung him over her shoulder.The stone blade was aimed at her ribs but Tsonia held it at bay and threw her weight to the left. The man or beast or whatever it was that grappled her shifted his feet to compensate. For the brief moment he was off balance, Tsonia caught hold of a jungle root, anchored herself, and with a mighty twist of her hips she sent her attacker sprawling to the ground.Was this creature even a man? Only the leather skin wrapped around his loins and the strap slung over one shoulder suggested any degree of civilization. His skin mottled in shades of olive, sage, and lime, was unlike anything he had seen before.Atop his powerfully muscled torso the head had a feral, beastial quality. Short fur rippled in the breeze and thin flews curled around canine teeth in a face that was more muzzle than mouth. The man’s arms ended in strong, clawed hands. A sinuous, striped tail curled from a shapely backside and the hind legs bent backwards were built for long, powerful strides and ferocious jumps.As Tsonia stood, the jungle seemed to twist around her, a verdant kaleidoscope of madness. The beast man didn’t regain his feet as much as he sort of oozed into an upright posture. The short spear undulated in his grip. The tangle of jungle roots beneath her feet shifted as if she stood upon a lattice of ship’s cables and the constant drum beat became muddled and lethargic.Tsonia shook her head to clear the dart’s poison from her vision, but it did no good.With a growl of anger, the beast man charged flapping like a banner in the wind. Tsonia leapt away from his attack leaving her feet and hands behind. She found herself next to the bouncing pool, next to her discarded chainmail top, which crawled into her hand and wrapped itself around her fingers.Before she could reorient her senses, her foe was upon her, clawed fingers at her throat and the point of his spear driving into her shoulder. Black blood hissed against the flint.With a roar of pain, Tsonia bashed him across his stubby snout with her handful of rubbery chainmail knocking loose a fang from his slavering lips. It left an arc of crimson hanging in the air like a sanguine rainbow. She brought a knee up into his groin where his twisted loincloth provided no protection. The beast howled but did not release his grip. She could feel his claws piercing her throat like gimlets twisted into cork. Again she brought the chainmail flailing down on his head, this time ripping away a pointed ear.The beast man released her throat, and caught her wrist in a grip like twine wrapped around bread dough. It was the opening Tsonia had hoped for, and she followed his motion adding her own considerable strength to his momentum, rolling the pair of them down the colorful brook that scarpered idly away from the spring pool.They tumbled down the slope and the world seemed reluctant to drag itself around in a spiral. Tsonia felt as if everything was made of honey as green and brown and claw and chain were mingled by a slow spoon. She saw the breath expelled from her lungs as she landed hard on top of her attacker, his fuzzy chest against the bare skin of her neck and shoulders. His arms wrapped around her and his clawed hands raked at her exposed throat and midriff.A bloody cry caught in Tsonia’s throat. She clutched at the beast’s pulpy arms, hoping to arrest their assault when she noticed the long, trailing appendage wavering gently from her shoulder. It must be the spear haft, still embedded within her like a spent lover.With all the focus she could muster, Tsonia released her attacker and took the spear in her grip. Clenching her teeth and straining wary thews with all her demon-blessed might, Tsonia forced the spear point through her shoulder, out of her back, and into the heaving chest of the screaming creature beneath her.For another moment he fought on, even as his life slipped away from him.Tsonia felt the flesh of her throat and her stomach melding, knitting together like a weaver’s handiwork. She yanked the spear out of her own body, black blood hissing and steaming along its length, and she pushed herself up and up and up to her feet. She hadn’t realized the ground was so low.The jungle continued to swirl around her, twisting and undulating. The spear felt pliant in her hand, as if made of soft leather, but she knew it could not be so. She shook her head again to clear the fog of the dart’s poison, but to no avail.Above her, a coarse series of syllables were barked in a language Tsonia didn’t know. She blinked into the twining tendrils of the jungle and saw another man, like this one, waiting by the flat ground by the pool. He carried a short spear in one hand and a net in the other. Both seemed to flutter in time to the sonorous beat of the distant drums.“So your people have honor of a sort?” Tsonia asked, mounting the hill. “You could have joined your friend and ganged up on me, but instead you waited for single combat. You have my respect, but not my mercy.”She was battered and bloody, her skin caked with mud and what must have been Kelgore’s seed. But she recognized a challenge when it was issued and while she didn’t know what would happen if she declined, she knew she was too vain to find out.“I don’t suppose you’d let me dress first?”The second foe barked a single word, hefted his spear and began to circle Tsonia cautiously, a wary eye on the captured spear and the chainmail hauberk she wielded.“No? No, I suppose you’re almost as naked as I am. Fair is fair after all.”Tsonia lowered her weight and readied for his attack, trying to hold her opponent in focus as the jungle blended and kneaded itself around them.The beast man lunged, stabbing with his spear, an experimental strike to gauge Tsonia’s speed. She parried it easily, although the spear shafts felt supple as they met, the clack of contact numb and muted. Whipping her handful of chainmail, she attempted to catch her

This month for movie night we watched Peter Yates' 1983 science fantasy swashbuckling film, Krull. Next month's movie night will fall on 25 December so we will be doing all the Conan movies (yes, Red Sonya counts!). You have until 22 December 2023 to send in your thoughts for A Conan Christmas.  Entries from Kevin (Analytic Dice), Commodore (Coldlight Press), Goblin's Henchman (Goblin's Henchman), Michael (Mirke the Meek), Spencer aka Free Thrall (Keep off the Borderland), Joe (Hindsightless), Anthony aka Runeslinger (Casting Shadows), Menion aka Rob (Confessions of a Wee Tim'rous Bushi), MW (The Worlds of MW Lewis), Daniel (Bandit's Keep), Darkfluid (The Silver Key) Krull clipart from https://turbocomicshop.com/products/pop-13-turbo-pop-tees-king-kirby-turbo-tee Previous Movie Mondays Clash of the Titans ⁠https://spotifyanchor-web.app.link/e/xHSTgeM7PAb⁠ The Dungeonmaster ⁠https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/jason376/episodes/515-The-Dungeonmaster-on-Movie-Monday-e24qha4⁠ The Princess Bride ⁠https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/jason376/episodes/529-The-Princess-Bride-on-Movie-Monday-e264o7r⁠ Hawk the Slayer ⁠https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/jason376/episodes/543-Hawk-the-Slayer-on-Movie-Monday-e27gth8⁠ Ladyhawke ⁠https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/jason376/episodes/556-Ladyhawke-on-Movie-Monday-e29n74o⁠ The Beastmaster https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/jason376/episodes/570-The-Beastmaster-on-Movie-Monday-e2b7gcc Ways to contact me:  Google Voice Number for US callers: (540) 445-1145 Speakpipe for international callers: ⁠⁠⁠https://www.speakpipe.com/NerdsRPGVarietyCast ⁠⁠⁠ The podcast's email at nerdsrpgvarietycast 'at' gmail 'dot' com Find me on a variety of discords including the Audio Dungeon Discord. Invite for the Audio Dungeon Discord ⁠⁠⁠⁠https://discord.gg/j5H8hGr⁠⁠⁠ PLAY web forum ⁠⁠⁠http://www.dekahedron.com/boards/index.php⁠⁠⁠ Home page for this show ⁠⁠⁠https://nerdsrpgvarietycast.carrd.co/⁠⁠⁠ Home page for Cerebrevore, the TTRPG panel discussion podcast ⁠⁠⁠https://cerebrevore.carrd.co/⁠⁠⁠ Attend: BSerCon 3 ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠https://tabletop.events/conventions/bser-con-3-online⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ (sadly not in 3D) Proud member of the Grog-talk Empire having been bestowed the title of The Governor Most Radiant Grandeur Baron The Belligerent Hero of The Valley. ⁠⁠⁠⁠https://www.grogcon.com/podcast/⁠⁠⁠⁠ Ray Otus did the coffee cup  art for this show, you can find his blog at ⁠⁠⁠https://rayotus.carrd.co/⁠⁠⁠ TJ provides music for my show. Colin Green at Spikepit ⁠⁠⁠https://anchor.fm/spikepit⁠⁠⁠ provided the "Have no fear" sound clip. --- Send in a voice message: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/jason376/message

When postpartum depression strikes, escaping those feelings can seem impossible. But finding a way to overcome the impossible and turn what we view as a weakness into our strength is part of what draws us to superheroes.Joining today's conversation is Samantha Bryant, an author of horror and superheroes. This mom of two returned to creative writing as a means to help herself through postpartum depression. Learn how Samantha established healthy boundaries with her children to safeguard her writing time. You'll also hear about the evolution of her children adjusting to her writing needs and becoming her biggest supporters.So, if you want to hear how Samantha turned a forgotten hobby into a writing career that includes superheroes, tune in today's episode. Topics discussed: Writing to process the worldThe slow decline of writing post-childbirthPPD and getting back into writingWeekend family team meetings Pursing writing beyond being a hobbyImplementing a daily writing habitThe kids' reactions to mom writingHow healthy boundaries change as kids grow upWriting has no age limitLooking back at our earlier writingsFor the love of superheroesNo right way to go about a writing lifeFavorite booksDon't wait to start writing again About Samantha: Samantha writes half-hero and half-horror, depending on whether she wants to save the world or watch it burn. Her superhero series comprises four novels, two novellas, and a collection of shorts and will conclude with the fifth novel in 2024. Her short-form horror work appears in several anthologies.She parents an adult daughter and a teenage non-binary kid with her patient husband. La Casa Bryant is in a small town in North Carolina.Get her books:Menopausal Superhero series: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B074CHNLQ2 Anthologies with her horror stories: https://bit.ly/SamanthaBryantConnect w/ Samantha:Website: http://samanthabryant.comFB: https://www.facebook.com/samanthadunawaybryantTwitter: https://twitter.com/samanthabwriterIG: https://www.instagram.com/samanthabwriter Books discussed during the show: The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy by Douglas AdamsComic books: Spider-Man, Underdog, Archie, Red Sonya, X-Men, and Uncanny X-MenThe Spiderwick Chronicles by Tony DiTerlizzi and Holly BlckMagic Tree House series by Mary Pope OsbornePajama Time and Barnyard Dance by Sandra Boynton Junie B. Jones by Barbra ParkFranny K. Stein by Jim Benton Amelia Bedelia by Peggy ParishThe Haunting of Hill House and We Have Always Lived in the Castle by Shirley JacksonDavid Copperfield by Charles DickensBeloved by Toni MorrisonMrs. McGinty's Dead by Agatha ChristieMurderbot Diaries series by Martha WellsFree your creative self too. Download your free copy of my guide, 5 Steps to Help You Start Writing Today, at https://lifebeyondparenting.com/5-steps-start-writing. Let's connect via my Facebook group, Parents Who Write, at https://www.facebook.com/groups/parentswhowrite.

Another fun guest Sleepover to provide excellent advice from the life experiences of others. The PR Manager of the podcast A Nefarious Nightmare joins me with advice on relationships, parenting, motivation, education, and life. Plus she puts me on the spot with questions of her own before I pull out the important 5 Question Ending. Petals of Support is brought to you by Spreaker PrimePlease be sure to Rate and Review this episode.Subscribe and ShareEmail me at: petals.s@aol.comTwitter: @PetalsofSupporthttps://linktr.ee/petalsofsupportPlease consider donating throughhttps://www.buymeacoffee.com/petalsofsupportBe sure to check out the members of Spotlight CartelThe Unfiltered PodcastA Nefarious NightmareThe Two Penny Podcast

“The Girl Boss in the sausagefest” Pitface and Tantz chat are here to chat with me about the subject or lady Barbarians: What they look like, where they originated, why they originated, what they mean, and the logic behind them. They're often overshadowed by their male counterparts (e.g. Conan), and often dismissed as simply an erotic male fantasy, but they've been around just as long and they've also had just as much of a role to play in the traditional “barbarian” mythos as the male versions. Sure, the sexy versions are abundant, iconic, and visually striking, but they're not the be all and end all! This Quackcast was inspired by the topic of my 8th Fashion Spotlight and its focus on the barbarian woman Rose Red, I go into a lot of detail there and it's linked bellow if you're interested. for a little bit of a recap: lady barbarians go back at least as far as the Roman empire, even older possibly. In Rome they took the form of “gladiatrixes” (female gladiators), who were dressed as and promoted as barbarian fighters from exotic, uncivilised lands (Africa, all over Europe etc), as a way to excite the interest of the paying public to pay to see the fights, the same as we'd do today with wrestling and MMA. Many influences were behind this: the myth of the Amazons, the myth of Atalanta, red haired Celtic queen Boadicea, even early ideas for what was behind the myth of Medusa - she was thought to be based on the queen of a barbarian tribe rather than Ovid's much later idea that she was a virgin temple priestess. But of course most of us know female barbarians because of their modern incarnations. They've always been around in the history of art but they had a spike in popularity with the Italian “Sword and Sandal” movies of the 1960s, then the art of fantasy art master Frank Frazetta in the 1970s. They found their way into things like Dungeons and Dragons and with the success of Conan the Barbarian and the Robert E Howard inspired Valeria in that film a whole host of lady barbarians got their own films, often exploitative and sexy. The most famous lady barbarian of the time was Red Sonja, loosely based on another Robert E Howard character called Red Sonya, but turned from an armoured fighter against the Ottoman Turks into a scale-mail bikini wearing comic book barbarian woman from prehistory. The most famous lady barbarian to come after her was Xena, the warrior princess, played by statuesque New Zealand sketch comedian Lucy Lawless. Xena was simply a female spinoff from Hercules The Legendary journeys. The really cool thing about her is that not only did she achieve extreme popularity and her show totally eclipsed its originator, she was also an original character AND she got that popularity without leveraging the sexiness of the premise or character! Some notable lady barbarians I can think off… Virginia Hey's Warrior Woman, Tina Turner's character, and Furiosa from the Mad Max 2, 3, and 4 respectively; Lady Death; Red Sonja; Grace Jone's character from Conan the Destroyer; Valeria (Sandal Bergman) from Conan the Barbarian; Queen Boadicea; Xena; Betty Paige's Cheetah woman (her look was probably an inspiration for Xena in some ways); Ygritte from Game of Thrones; Atalanta; Princess Merida of Brave; I even created my own version in a Barbarian Pinky TA! Who are your faves from the this genre? This week Gunwallace has given us the theme to Creeping through the desert ruins, not wearing overly much, heat hits like a wall, golden sun dazels and mystifies. From plucked strings to creepy atmospherics, the sound bursts in a bombastic wave of high energy multilayered noise and exotic sounds, with pounding percussion. Topics and shownotes Links DD Fashion Spotlight 8: Rose Red - https://www.theduckwebcomics.com/news/2022/jan/05/friday-fashion-spotlight-8-rose-red/ Featured comic: Latitude Zero - https://www.theduckwebcomics.com/news/2022/jan/04/featured-comic-latitude-zero/ Featured music: Hentai Action Theater - https://www.theduckwebcomics.com/Hentai_Action_Theater - by Bedlam Boy, rated A. Special thanks to: Gunwallace - http://www.virtuallycomics.com Tantz Aerine - https://www.theduckwebcomics.com/user/Tantz_Aerine/ Ozoneocean - https://www.theduckwebcomics.com/user/ozoneocean PitFace - https://www.theduckwebcomics.com/user/PIT_FACE/ VIDEO exclusive! Become a subscriber on the $5 level and up to see our weekly Patreon video and get our advertising perks! - https://www.patreon.com/DrunkDuck Even at $1 you get your name with a link on the front page and a mention in the weekend newsposts! Join us on Discord - https://discordapp.com/invite/7NpJ8GS

8:44 Venom:Let there be Carnage (Trailer)15:49 Green Knight (Trailer)22:20 Red Sonya27:45 Adult Swim Movies36:10 Jupiter's Legacy (light spoiler) 55:13 The Iceberg discussion 

The Rogues discuss Red Sonya and Red Sonja in their various iterations beginning with Robert E. Howard's historical adventure "Shadow of the Vulture" and ending with the 1985 film by Richard Fleischer.

Members of our Patron Book Club (Jeremy Harper, Christopher Murrie, and Adam Styers) join us to discuss Robert E. Howard's "Conan the Warrior", the Conan paperback publication history, Conan's rapey inner-dialogue, the "barbarism is the natural state of mankind" quote, the roles of priests in sword and sorcery, Red Sonya and Dark Agnes, the strengths and weaknesses of Valeria, the fragile state of Whiteness, Lovecraftian racism, the immensity of the Hyborian world, giving L. Sprague de Camp the credit he's due, Conan casting spells, and more!

Ming talks to famed writer Amy Chu (Green Hornet, Poison Ivy, Red Sonya, KISS) about her current works, dealing with COVID and the postponement of 2020 comic cons as well as her expereinces teaching at the Kubert School.

Alex Grand and Jim Thompson interview Frank Thorne, born in 1930, he discusses his past and current works, with a career that spans from the late 1940s, utilizing and expanding on inspirations like Alex Raymond, Hal Foster, and Neil O'Keefe, a late 1940s graduate of the Art Career School in Manhattan, working at Dell, Gold Key and DC Comics with an explosion of fan activity in the 1970s and 80s with his comic work centered around strong beautiful female characters like Red Sonya. This episode finishes after his work on Red Sonya and we explore his famous other femme fatales like Ghita, Lann for Heavy Metal, Ribit for Comico, Danger Rangerette for National Lampoon, Moonshine McJuggs for Playboy, his working relationship with Hugh Hefner, his interactions with other prominent comic figures like Alex Toth, Gary Groth, Jim Steranko and Neal Adams. Images used in artwork ©Their Respective Copyright holders, CBH Podcast ©Comic Book Historians. Thumbnail Artwork ©Comic Book Historians. Support us at https://www.patreon.com/comicbookhistoriansSupport the show (https://www.patreon.com/comicbookhistorians)

Alex Grand and Jim Thompson interview Frank Thorne, born in 1930, he discusses his past and current works, with a career that spans from the late 1940s, utilizing and expanding on inspirations like Alex raymond, Hal Foster, and Neil O'Keefe, a late 1940s graduate of the Art Career School in Manhattan, working at Dell, Gold Key and DC Comics with an explosion of fan activity in the 1970s and 80s with his comic work centered around strong beautiful female characters like Red Sonya. Images used in artwork ©Their Respective Copyright holders, CBH Podcast ©Comic Book Historians. Thumbnail Artwork ©Comic Book Historians. Support us at https://www.patreon.com/comicbookhistoriansSupport the show (https://www.patreon.com/comicbookhistorians)

*Comic Spoilers* This week, we kick things off by round-tabling Mark Russell and Richard Pace's SECOND COMING #1 from Ahoy Comics. Then we run down a short list of the news that poured out of SDCC this week. From comics to movies, there was a lot to cover.  NCBD suggestions: Star Pig #1, Go Bots TPB, Red Sonya #6, Batman Curse of the White Knight #1, Valkyrie #1

In this episode of Flip Side Harrison, Charlie, and Kurtis discuss current news, Days of the Dead Convention, We tell you everything you would want to know about Basket Case and Anthropraphus. We have special quest Jakob Lee Ross Hewitt and we close the show with our reviews of The Tough Ones and Dragged Across Concrete. Films Mentioned: Devil's Rain, Phantasm, Suspiria, Lolita, Barry Lyndon, Eyes Wide Shut, 2001 A Space Odyssey, A Clockwork Orange, Tenebre, Diary of A Dead Beat, Mad Man, The Barn, Ellie, Ted Bundy, She Was So Pretty, Night of The Living Bong, Beach Bum, Never Hike Alone, Return of the Living Dead, Friday the 13th Part VI, Love Immortal, Castle Freak, Puppet Master Littlest Reich, Subspecies, Pit and The Pendulum 1991, Cellar Dweller, Contamination, Puppet Master, Demonic Toys, Killjoy, Evil Bong, Gingerdead Man, Dollman, Robo Jox, Day of the Dead, D.A.R.Y.L, Never Ending Story, The Stuff, Back to the Future, Goonies, Breakfast Club, Weird Science, First Blood II: Rambo, Rocky IV, Commando, Pee Wee's Big Adventure, Return to Oz, European Vacation, Nightmare on Elmstreet II, Mad Max Beyond Thunderdome, Silver Bullet, Brazil, Friday the 13th Part V, Jewel Of the Nile, American Ninja, Once Bitten, Just One Of The Guys, Jurassic World, Red Sonya, Jagged Edge, Life Force, Teen Wolf, Fright Night, Black Cauldron, Invasion USA, Spies Like Us, Fletch, Back to the Future II & III, Sandlot, Milo, The Devil Rides Out, Rocky Horror Picture Show, Night of the Creatures AKA Captain Clegg, The Abominable Snowman, Dracula AD 1972, The Mummy 1959, The Mummy, Dracula 1954, Curse of the Werewolf, Frankenstein Created Woman, Rasputin, Gates of Hell aka City of the Living Dead, Hollywood Chainsaw Hookers, Munchie, Witchcraft II, Attack of the 60 Foot Centerfold, Animal House, Dennis and Henry's Post Divorce Check List, Dead Pit, Forced Entry, Manitou, Slaughterhouse, Body Count, Savage Streets, Butcher Butcher Nightmare Maker, Screams of a Winters Night, Necromancy, Point Doom, Chaos, Dawn of the Dead, Martin, Amityville II, Amityville 3D, Amityville: Evil Escapes, Amityville Dollhouse, Amityville Its About Time, Amityville Next Generation, The Beyond, Sleepaway Camp, Driller Killer, Frankenstein Created Bikers, Basket Case, Texas Chainsaw Massacre, Sledgehammer, Deep Red, Justine, Nightmare on Elm Street III, Sex and Fury, Maid in Sweden, Amete, Frankenhooker, Basket Case II, Basket Case III, Brain Damage, Blood & Black Lace, Anthroprophagus, Absurd, Rabid Dogs, Godzilla '98, The Tough Ones, Dragged Across Concrete, Wake Up and Kill, Dirty Harry, Cannibal Ferox, Man From Deep River, Nightmare City, Bone Tomahawk, Brawl in Cell Block 99, Tombstone, Dodgeball, Dark Blue.

Dan's off this week - probably on the search for new music for Luke to enjoy since ska died in the '90s. For additional content (the After Party), purchase a Loot Bo...uhh "Surprise Mechanic" and become a Mega Fan on Patreon! Links: * Get your own R2 Droid ( https://www.ocregister.com/2019/06/07/who-would-pay-25000-for-a-droid-at-disneylands-star-wars-galaxys-edge-more-people-than-you-might-expect/ ) * Disney jacking up the price of tickets before Galaxy's Edge opens ( https://www.slashfilm.com/disney-world-annual-pass-prices-galaxys-edge/ ) * Red Sonya has a new director ( https://www.slashfilm.com/red-sonja-movie-director-jill-soloway/ ) * Netflix cancels a show they never made ( https://www.theguardian.com/books/2019/jun/20/petition-netflix-cancel-amazon-prime-good-omens-christian-neil-gaiman-terry-pratchett ) * KFC to release new Cheetos Chicken Sandwich on July 1st ( https://www.fastcompany.com/90367908/kfc-unleashing-cheetos-chicken-sandwich-on-humanity-on-july-1 ) * Minecraft Story mode now $100 an episode ( https://www.vg247.com/2019/06/17/ahead-delisted-minecraft-story-mode-episodes-cost-100-xbox-360/ ) * EA says lootboxes are "Surprise mechanics" and are ethical ( https://www.polygon.com/2019/6/21/18691760/ea-vp-loot-boxes-surprise-mechanics-ethical-enjoyable ) * Avengers Endgame returns to theaters ( https://slate.com/culture/2019/06/avengers-endgame-returns-to-theaters-with-added-post-credits-scene.html )

Sad news this week as we learn that Luke may not be able to get to Mars after all. If you happen to have some sort of space craft and can’t find a use for it then please get in touch so we can send him on his way. Mars One files for bankruptcy Red Sonya on hold CD Projekt Red coughs up some cash Katy Perry felt left out Making a Murderer is still going on Down south your coupons get political We hate prank shows but this is pretty funny Deadmau5 banned from Twitch for yelling slurs Star Wars Episode IX has finished shooting The post 305: One Big Kitty ( https://www.multiplenerdgasm.com/305-one-big-kitty/ ) appeared first on Multiple Nerdgasm ( https://www.multiplenerdgasm.com ).

Bryan Singer y Red Sonya  Poster elevados de contenidos eróticos ¿Se merece la nominación al Oscar Black Panther? Black Widow para más grandecitos Deadpool en el universo Disney/Marvel Película de Reborn con Sandra Bullock Maldita Sea en Vivo!! Serie de Visión ¿Viste el Trailer? Spider-man Far for home, Harley Quinn, The Boys, Umbrella Academy. ¿Disney cancelara los Simpsons? Encuesta de dulces de la Ligua. Redes Sociales La Dispersión Desconocida @LaDispersion Fernando Pinto @Fdo_Pinto Felipe Benavides @FBR_cl Mauricio Ahumada @MauroAhumada Música de la intro de Simio http://xurl.es/zxee

Max and Brian fancast some of their favorite heroes of pulp sci-fi and fantasy.

Easily of the best sets we've had the pleasure of experiencing, Red Sonya & Alien Tom of Native Alien grace this episode with a special Back2Back set recorded live at their Techniche debut on 11.01.16. tracklist: n/a

Fighting ladies, female bad-ass characters… There are a lot more of them around now, but once upon a time they were pretty thin on the ground. I love a good badarse lady, my own comic character Pinky TA exemplifies that character type. There's something about a tough lady who can kick butt with the best of them that's especially compelling. They evolved from something a little more exploitative, ladies fighting in bikinis basically, then we had ladies that were just the female version of a male character (Batwoman, Supergirl etc), which is something we're starting to see a little more of unfortunately, but on the good side of things we ARE actually getting fighting ladies who're their OWN women: Original characters. In this Quackcast we talk about some of our faves and some of the earlier incarnations of the character type, from Robert E Howard's Red Sonya and Valeria, to Catherine L Moore's Jirel of Joiry, to Wonder woman, then later characters like Red Sonja (from the comics), She-Hulk, Sarah Conner, Ripley, Buffy, Xena, Aeon Flux… What are some of YOUR faves? Mine are Tank Girl, Lara Croft, Motoko Kusanagi, Garnet and many more :) This week Gunwallace has given us the theme to Dolphin Bros: Jump, jump, jump up and down to this mad dolphin party scene. It's all over the place but all it wants you to do is MOVE! Topics and shownotes Featured comic: Glass Rafters - https://www.theduckwebcomics.com/news/2018/oct/02/featured-comic-glass-rafters/ Listen to us on Stitcher ​​- https://www.stitcher.com/s?fid=224306&refid=stpr Or TuneinRadio - https://tunein.com/podcasts/Books–Literature/Drunkduck-Quackcast-p1150194/ Fighting Girls: Hit Girlz - https://www.theduckwebcomics.com/HitGirlz/ King's Club - https://www.theduckwebcomics.com/Kings_Club/ Godstrands - https://www.theduckwebcomics.com/Godstrands/ Pinky TA - https://www.theduckwebcomics.com/Pinky_TA/ Special thanks to: Gunwallace - http://www.virtuallycomics.com Tantz Aerine - https://www.theduckwebcomics.com/user/Tantz_Aerine/ Banes - https://www.theduckwebcomics.com/user/banes Ozoneocean - https://www.theduckwebcomics.com/user/ozoneocean Featured music: Dolphin Bros - https://www.theduckwebcomics.com/Dolphin_Bros/, by cjoe1377, rated E.

CW: Hate Speech / Slurs At the top of the show - I talk about current events, citing the articles below. Donald Trump has mainstreamed a fringe white nationalist talking point.  "Hate Project" Episode 11 clips -  Recorded shortly after Hurricane Sandy. Guest co-host with Red Sonya, from Kentucky who explains how she escaped racist indoctrination from her parents and community. The Klansman, now calling himself Dragon1488, calls back in. He says he is motivated by his love of his own race, but still can't help sounding hateful. A nurse, who also wears the 1488 handle calls in, she says her white pride is also motivated by loving her own race. Fake George Takei calls in, revealing a raging racist and anti-Semitic side.  I tried, friends.  I tried to reach out.  References from episode:   Donald Trump tweets white genocide talking point:  https://www.salon.com/2018/08/27/donald-trumps-white-genocide-rhetoric-a-dangerous-escalation-of-racism/#.W4RK596cwZs.email Murders of farmers in South Africa at a 20 year low: https://www.theguardian.com/world/2018/jun/27/murders-of-farmers-in-south-africa-at-20-year-low-research-shows Dangerous myth of South Africa white genocide:   https://www.splcenter.org/hatewatch/2018/08/23/dangerous-myth-white-genocide-south-africa Doctor in Bronx on white nationalist site: http://www.nydailynews.com/new-york/bronx/ny-news-bronx-doctor-sorry-white-nationalism-20180727-story.html NYC Upper West Side parents oppose desegregating schools: http://www.ny1.com/nyc/all-boroughs/news/2018/04/25/push-to-boost-middle-school-diversity-upsets-some-uws-parents-# Any comments, feedback, questions... Email: paradoxofcivility@gmail.com Twitter: @civilpodcast Music:   Gnossienne no. 1 by International Surrealist Bulletinis licensed under a CC0 1.0 Universal License. Remedy for Melancholy by Kai Engel is licensed under a Attribution License.

Download and listen to DJ Red Sonya's live set from Contact 2018. This was the closing set of the Lady Lush party Saturday night at Miracle Springs. The post Red Sonya Live at Contact 2018 appeared first on Native Alien.

It's been a long long time. Way too long. Deepest apologies to everyone that enjoys what we do here. It's been a very trying, busy, and difficult few months for everyone involved. From good things like going on vacations and new vehicels to bad things like tons of money and frustration and people with no driving license ruining our vehicles precepiating us needing new vehicles -- anyways. We have our 2nd guest on this episode, Jay Zippo, all around good dude, Fallout 4 modder, Let's Play extraordinaire and someone who actually listens to our show. And James brings us the utter should've been smothered after birth of a movie Red Sonya with Bridgette Neilsen in her screen debut, a horrible end to Arnold's Barbarian film line, and a needlessly murdered Icthyin Kiling Machine. It plays like an awful reskin of Indiana Jones and has no redeeming qualites... except of course for Dustin. As always thanks for listening, please like, share, subscribe, and comment through Facebook, iTunes, Twitter, and more. Get in touch with Jay Zippo - @Beruud / YouTube for the clips of Worf that Jay mentions where Picard just shuts him down over and over - Mr. Worf

Episode 5 Red Sonya by Under Appreciated Movie Podcast

Here it is, the first episode! We thought we would start off with a home town favorite, Red Sonya. Hope you enjoy the show! Follow us for the next episode. Tune In @ alkalinepodcast.com

For over a decade, Red Sonya has consistently been playing dance music events, lounges and clubs in Southern California and Mexico. She has held several weekly and monthly residencies, and also produces many of her own events. Red Sonya got her start as a DJ in 2001. Since 2007, she has been leading Lady Lush, a production company featuring a group of talented DJs. Red Sonya has also performed at many outdoor festivals including Lightning in a Bottle, YOUtopia, Elysium, and the San Francisco Love Festival. She is currently co-producing the Native Alien annual events: Contact and Dia de los Muertos. Red Sonya has released her own productions on labels such as Stripped Recordings, Stripped Digital, Hype Musik, and Stripped Off. She has also shared the decks with Bob Sinclair, Jesse Rose, Nic Fanciulli, Jamie Jones, Doc Martin and many more. Red Sonya plays from her heart and soul and never disappoints. She's made her presence known as an inspiring artist and dedicated supporter of the house and techno community. She looks forward to traveling the world as she continues to contribute to the growing electronic dance music scene. DOWNLOAD: https://theartistunion.com/tracks/eb4055 Follow Red Sonya on the web! Soundcloud: https://soundcloud.com/djredsonya Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/djredsonya/ Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/djredsonya Website: http://likemindedculture.com/ Facebook: https://facebook.com/likemindedculture Instagram: https://instagram.com/likemindedculture/

Join your host Donny Salvo and a rotating panel of co-hosts as they discuss what they're reading, favorite creators and comic book industry news. episode description- in this episode Donny is joined by fellow pod casters Jim Dietz from the HHW/LOD Podcast and Nothing's On, Chris Keszycki and Rafael Sanz from the No Apologies podcast and The Taylor Network of Podcasts, and Mike Myers of the DC Noise and Geek Brunch podcasts. In this episode they talk about Trinity War, Villains month, Forever Evil, Mark Waid, Matt Fraction, Matt Kindt, team up comics,superior spider man, favorite batman artists, captain midnight,thor,flash,aquaman, Red Sonya,Conan, King Conan,Jack Kirby,Campbell Con, and for some reason comedy and comedians http://thetaylornetworkofpodcasts.com/

Download Red Sonya's live set from Contact 2013 recorded poolside the Rancho Agua Caliente in Ensenada, Baja California, Mexico July 4th weekend. The post Red Sonya Live at Contact appeared first on Native Alien.

Download DJ Red Sonya's mix recorded live at our first group Scouting Mission at the Rancho Auga Caliente in Ensenada, Baja California, Mexico, Saturday, July 9th, 2011. The post DJ Red Sonya Live at Scouting Mission appeared first on Native Alien.