I've been having crashes to desktop at random places in the game anywhere from roaming around the game world to entering buildings or doors and even during game cutscenes.Which is making it hard to figure out where the conflict is coming from any help is much appreciated. My Load Order is as Follows
USSEP
Climates of Tamriel
Campfire
Reforming to the masses
Frostfall
Realistic Needs and Diseases
Omen UI
Lockpicking Interfaces Redone
Immersive Quest Menu-Dark
JaySerpa's Line expansion
JaySerpa's Quest Expanison
Konahrik's Accoutrements
Ghosts of Akavir
Missives
Dunmer Leaf Swords
Wearable Lanterns
Peacekeeper Armor
Skyrim Reputation
Andromeda-Standing Stone Overhaul
Imperious- Race Overhaul
Character Creation Overhaul
Triumvirate-Mage Archerypes
ThunderChild-Shout Overhaul
Wintersun- Faiths of Skyrim
Odin
Apocalypse
Ordination
Apocalypse-Ordination Compatibility patch
Cloaks & Capes
Bandoliers bag+pouches
Narrative loot
BCS Lost Library
C.O.I.N
Morrowind Miscellania Overhaul
Morrowloot Ultimate
Morrowind Miscellania Overhaul-MLU Patch
Summermyst
Thematic Loot
Summermyst Morrowloot Patch
Lawless- A Bandit overhaul
Economy Ovehaul&Speech Improvements
EOSI MLU Patch
EOSI ordinator Patch
Headhunter-Bounties Redone
Diverse Dragons Collection
Audio SFX Overhaul
Caves of Morrowind
Morskom Estate
Racial Body Morphs Redus SSE
Wet and Cold Optimised Text.
Reliquary of Myth- Artifact Overhaul
Reliquary of Myth-Morrowloot Patch
Realistic Clouds
Amulets Of Skyrim
Saerileth Choice- Jewelry Retex
Book Covers Of Skyrim Tweaked And Improved
Old Kingdom-Weapon Overhaul
Immersive Follower Framework
Immersive Citizens
Use those blankets
Spell Weaver:Definitive Magic Overhaul
The next section is a bunch of Mihail Monster Mods
Ghosts and Souls Frost Giant Overhaul Wraiths and Spectres Watchers Vigilants Wraith of Crows Scamps Mimics Imps Foglings Ghouls Guardian Spectres
The kids are alright Renewal
Fia's Eyes-Vanilla Eye Replacer
All of the Braids
Reverie Female textures
GD's Tan Lined Skin with black Nails
Comprehensive First Person Animations
Artifacts-The Ice Blade of the Monarch
A Quality World Map
Smilodon-Combat Overhaul
Kontrol
Wear Multiple Rings
Inigo
Xelzaz
Alternate Start
I've followed the logical Load Order guide for the entire mod list I'm not sure what could be conflicting it's has ran stable for the bulk of 30 or so hours. most of the crashes I've experienced have been in dawnstar and the surrounding area

Timestamp: https://imgur.com/a/uooMW7E Closeup of the timestamp Here: https://imgur.com/Rhovh2q
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I am active on CBM2 (75+ flair), migrating my goods here to sell as much as possible here as I get back into selling.
Crossposted - I have every item listed on multiple forums. I will strikethrough everything that sells within 24 hours of selling and as I bump this listing, I will keep it updated with what is SOLD.
More than happy to work out package/bulk pricing.
More pictures available upon request. Tons availiable in the below album Links.
Payment will be via proxy (until I reach the flair requirement) due to my PP being canceled 13 months ago for a gun-related comment by a customer. I am currently able to accept cashapp or zell for digital methods, or USPS Money Order or Personal/certified check for mail payments.
Shipping - First-class shipping is included in all stated prices. Priority upgrade = +$6.
Insurance is at the buyers discretion and will be discussed prior to payment being sent.
Handpick - If there is more than 1x of an item and the buyer desires to handpick the exact one he/she wants add +$10 to the final price. On some sections I have multiple items in the exact same condition, for pictures I only used one or two examples of each.
Tracking - will be provided in chat or PM within 48 hours of Proxy or myself (once appropriate flair (+11 GAFS requirement)) is received. As soon as the Proxy or myself receives payment, I will leave flair for the buyer and request that as soon as the item is received by the buyer they reciprocate with appropriate flair.
Link to Timestamp Closeup Here. Full GAFS pictures with timestamp & user name HERE
MISC / Non AK related parts - AFAL parts Lot, Beretta grips & Scopes -detailed pictures
Parts lot of AR, KSG, and FAL parts (Everything in the AFAL picture- $125 shipped
Beretta M92 buffalo horn grips - Sold to me as SB, but didn't fit, so I think they are for a FS model - $45 shipped
Scopes-
BSA Sweet .223 6-18x40, NIB - $135
Bushnell AR-223 3-9x32 with 1-piece mount -$120
Ruger 4x32 pellet scope - $35
New camo pattern Polish Gn.60 accessory backpackswith full accessory set as pictured. - change up your Gn.60 kit from the old drab green pack. All in very good to excellent condition may have some leather wear or trench art ink - $345 each
AK slings - Left to Right (Full Sling Album Here)
NOS Russian RPK doublehook Slings - $55 each
NOS Russian AKSU slings (Mustard and OD availiable) - $45 each
NOS Russian AEK-971 - Perfect doublehook AKSU sling - $45 each
NOS Russian AKM/AK74 single Hook slings - $35 each
Old Stock Russian T1 slings - $65 each
NOS Russian Navy AK74 Slings - $49 each
NOS Romanian Leather PSL slings - $35 each
Old Stock Romanian web slings - $22 each
Chinese dark OD Type 95 double hook slings - $35 each
NOS Yugo M85/M92 Slings - $65 each
Chinese NOS wide AK/SKS 2x leather strap slings. These are a rarely seen version of CHICOM sling, much more robust than standard 2x tab slings. All NOS with minor age stains, complete with keepers and all have crisp stamps. - $45 each
Polish T2 leather tab fluffy green slings - $45 each
Polish T1 Leather Tab slings (Perfect for the Gn.60 kits) - $65 Each
Polish Fluffy Tantal slings - Missing Keepers - $15 each
Not in bulk picture - NOS Polish Tantal/Beryl (rare Police Grey variant) slings - $39 each
AK Mag Pouches - Left to right (Full Pouch Album Here)
NOS Russian RPK Pouches - $65 each
NOSRussian AK74 4-cell pouched - $35 each
NOS Russian Medical drop bag/pouches - $15 each
NOS Partial Russian SMERSCH harness w/ 2 pouches - $65
NOS Russian Drum pouch - $32 each
NOS East German Vynl drum pouch - $26 each
Egyptian Maadi Drum bag - $30
Worn Maadi Mag Pouches - $22 each
Worn Yugo 4-cell Pouches (OD or Camo) - $25 each
NOS Bulgarian, early first gen 4-cell AK47 Mag pouches - $25 each
NOS Romanian ,early first gen AK47 4 cell mag pouches - $25 each
NOS 4-cell EG Pouches. curved 4-cell, 1x UKN - 4-cell = $25 each / UKN = $20 / Worn Straigt 4-cell Pouches - $15 each
NOS camo Pouches - NOS Polish 3 cell akm $44 & 4 cell beryl $59 Pouches - Priced each
Worn Polish green pouches - $18 each
Vz.58 drop cases & mag pouches -
NOS Desert and Forest camo paratrooper drop cases - $79 each
NOS 3 cell Desert and 2 cell Forest camo mag pouches - 3 cell = $65, 2 cell = $55 each
Russian Med pouches & Khyber pouch/tourniquet packs
Russian Medical pouches & NOS red/pink tourniquet packs, correct for Afghan Era Khyber tourniquet wraps. $55 each
COMBLOC Bayonets & Fighting Knives - Left to Right -Vietnamese Picture here because I forgot to include them in the other proof picture - Full detailed pictures located here
NOS Vietnam Red & Black 6x4s - $185 each
NOS number matching Russian Izzy & Tula 6x4s - $185 each
Good to Excellent Russian 6x3s (Ranging from bright orange to dark plum) - $155 each
Excellent, numbered Russian true black 6x5s - $285 each
NOS, unnumbered Bulgarian black 6x5s - $175 each
NOS, still in Cosmo, Hungarian 6x3s with complete hanger & straps - $135 each
East German 6x2s - $145 each
East German 6x4 - $135
Complete good to excellent Romanian 6x3s (leather & cloth hangers availiable) - $85 each
Polish 6x4 - $135
Polish Wz.55 Paratrooper fighting knife. - $315
Russian Spetznaz fighting knife - $225
Yugo M65 fighting knife - $445
Straps/Hangers
NOS Polish Molle hangers - $25 each
East german Hangers - $15 each
East German straps - $15 each
Polish 6x2 hanger - $25
AK Furniture (Full Sets 1 / Full Sets 2) (RPK sets) (Handguard Sets) (Grips) (MISC) (Saiga Sets) (Uppers & Pallad) (EG BFPU) (VZ58) (AMD65) (Hungarian Blue AKM63 sets) (Underfold Stocks) Right to Left by column -Full detailed pictures here
Full Sets 1
NOS Russian AK100 5.5mm stock sets with railed LHG - $455 each
Russian early AKM set with rare rubber buttpad - $335
Russian AK74 Set - $285
Russian T2 set - $365
NOS, unnumbered Bulgarian T3 set - $455
Romanian BFPU set with Kill hashes - $185
Sanded Polish Hardwood sets - $310
NOS Polish Laminate sets - $225
East German Hardwood set (only made on their first yeat 1964 prototypes) with fat Hungarian grip - $315
NOS Polish PPSH stock - $125
Black Yugo M64 trainer set - Missing metal ferrules - $365
Excellent Yugo M70 set w/ M64 ferruled grip - $235
Romanian ROMAK PSL style sets - $185 each
Custom Vepr clubfoot with purple krackle finish - $35
Full Sets 2
NOS Zastava Yugo M70B1 folding/railed sets - $455 each complete ($225 handguards/Grips combo / $245 Buttstock seperate / $105 grip seperate)
NOS East German MPiK74 sets - $225
RPK Sets
NOS Russian Plum or Laminate 4-piece RPKS sets - $525 each
Have multiple ribbed plum UHGs - $65 each
Handguard Sets - all 3-piece (handguards & Grips)
Bulged Bakelite sets (Tantal LHG, Romanian UHG, either Romy AIMS or Polish Bake grip) - $310 each
Romanian Unvented laminate sets & 1x hardwood SAR set - $105
Chinese BFPU bakelite set with gas tube - $375
Chinese polymer set - $265
NOS Polish laminate sets - $135 each
Russian AK74 set w/ Laminate grip - $205
Russian 74 set with Bakelite grip - $155
NOS Russian Plum set w/ flakes - $185
Polish Tantal sets (dark plum bakelite) - $290 each
East German (brown or black UHGs) w/ Russian bake grips - $155 each
Grips - Left to Right Top to Bottom
UKN US made wood grip - $5 addon / $9 individual
UKN fat wood grip - $45
MD Arms Molot clone - $20
CAA grip - complete - $18
CAA grip - $12
SAW style grip - $12
US Palm black & orange - $15 each
UKN black - $5 add on or $9 individually
UKN Tan - $5 add on or $9 individually
Shiney black over bake - $5 add on or $9 individually
Tapco orange w/ minor damage - $5 add on or $9 individually
Worn Russian black - $10 add on or $15 individually
BFPU Bulgarian - $5 add on or $9 individually
Good to execellent Yugo M70 - $5 add on or $9 individually
UKN OD Green - $5 add on or $9 individually
Hungarian AMD65 Grey - SOLD
Hungarian AMP69 baby blue - $75
MISC
Magpul Handguards Plum Zhukov (fit for VEPR) or Grey AKM - $45 each
VEPR w/ smooth upper handguards - $35
UKN 74 style black handguards - $45 each
UKN railed handguards - $35
3x Beryl folding stocks - $310
Metal railed Beryl handguard set - $310
Beryl lower - $65
Bulgarian Arsenal SAM 4-piece set - $75
Tantal wire folder - $80
Galil lightweight folder w/ pad - $185
Black Saiga sets - $45 each
Uppers & Pallad Lowers
Russian 74 scalloped upper handguards - $49 each
Romanian Bakelite upper handguards - $95 each
NOS Polish Pallad Lower Handguards - $150 each
EG BFPU grips & Upper handguards - $7 add on or $12 individually
VZ58
Beaver barf grip - $28
2x Lower Handguards - $28 each
folding stock butt pad sleeves - $18 each
AMD65 stock/grip sets - $125 each
Hungarian Blue AKM63 sets - Complete w/ all by two unicorn metal parts - $710 each
Individual prices =
NOS Blue stock sets w/ all hardware - more complete than the AOA sets - $150 each
Blue grips with grip nut/screw - $200 each
NOS, unnumbered long gas tube & lower handguard - $180 each
Underfold Stocks
Hungarian set, complete with trunnion & all hardware - $125
Milled Chinese with rear stub and grip nut - $210
4x Bulgarian stocks, with hinge hardware - $55 each
2x Russian, one assembled with hinge hardware, one T2 disassembled - $105 assembled, $85 disassembled.
Cleaning Rods - Detailed pictures here - Bottom to top
NOS Russian SVD 3-piece cleaning rod - $115
NOS Early & late model AKSU cleaning rods - $45 each
NOS Russian RPK74 5.45 Cleaning rods - 22.5" long - $55 each
NOS Russian RPK 7.62 Cleaning rods - 22 3/8" long - $55 each
NOS Russian Cleaning rods, Ribbed T1/early T2 variants - $75 each
NOS Russian AKM cleaning rods - $39 each
NOS Polish Tantal cleaning rods - $45
NOS Repro North Korean T68 cleaning rods - made from OG rod measurements - $75 each
Romanian AKM cleaning rods - $18 each
AK Parts - Multiple items - Detailed pictures here- Listed from left to right off the overall parts picture
Muzzle Devices
Han Solo Blaster aluminum repro cone - $25
26mm Yugo Cone - $35
24mm VISM w/ 14x1LH adapter - $30
24mm Bulgarian 74 device - $45
VEPR 12 thread protectors - $20 each
PKM - Flash Hiders - 18x1.5LH - $65 each
Second & third row are all 14x1LH threads
VEPR barrel protectors - $5 add on or $9 individual
VEPR RSB with pinned 360 degree spike brake = $45
Hungarian flash hiders - $5 add on or $9 individual
2x extended AMD65 brakes - $25 each
UKN parkerized brake - $25
Extended Fishscale brake - $30
2x UKN rigged brakes - $35 each
Custom cheese grater brake - $25
UKN scaled brake - $25
PWS GEN 2 hider - $95
UKN ribbed flash hider - $15
Bulgarian ARM-4 2-slot brake, NOS - $75
R.A.G.E TCS recoil system end cap, rethreaded to 14x1lh to serve as muzzle cap - $10
2x Romanian AMIR long flash hiders - $95 each
Top Covers
Chinese milled - $55
Chinese w/ scope rail - $75
UKN Railed - $15
M92 missing flip sight - $35
2x virgin Yugo M92 barrels - $125 each
Pistons
Turbo This Russian T1 replica - $175
OG Yugo M92 star piston - $75
MISC US made AKM & 74 pistons w/ 2x AMD65 length - $15 each
Recoil Rods
3x NOS Polish Gn.60 - $70 each
3x Chinese - $40 each
4x Russian AK100 series - $55 each
2x UKN - $20 each
Gas Tubes
NOS Polish AKM - $35 each
NOS Polish AK47 T3 - $45 each
2x UKN - $20 each
1x NOS Russian AKM - 60
1x Yugo M72 - $25
Chinese - $45
Chinese with OG Cheese Grater upper - $125
Hungarian AK63 - $45 each
2x Saiga - $15 each
East German AKM - $35 each
AK12 / SVD parts
New Russian Vector-12 AK12 handguard - $385
2x NOS Russian SVDS covers - $385 each
NOS Russian SDV Bipod - $650
SVD Extractors - $25 each
SVD buttpad extension - $25
SVD buttstock bakelite grip cap - $25
4x NOS SVD safeties - $45 each
Milled Stubs
Yugo Rear milled M64 stubs - Fixed & Underfold - $75 each
2x Front milled stubbs - Hungarian & East German - $75 each
Russian AKSU
2x Gas Tubes - $150 each
3x Piston - $55 each
Virgin FSB.Gas Block - $450
Sight Leafs
NOS Russian RPK - $85
2x NOS Polish T3 - $45 each
2x Russian Tigr - $35 each
2x Chinese - $35
4x Builder special Russian RPK FSBs - $45 each
VEPR 12 FSB/Gas Block combo - $65
MISC trigger guard parts - $10 add on / $15 individually
Romanian PSL Lot (2x carrier, 1x stripped bolt, 1x top cover, 1x piston 2x trigger guard, 2x muzzle brake, 1x FSB, Gas Block & bayonet lug) - $295 for the lot
Yugo M72 handguard retainer - $25
Bottom half Polish night rail - rough shape - $65
Hungarian AMP69 gas wrenches - $25 each
2x single point sling attachments - 1x is E93, other is UKN - $15 each
Safety Leavers
East German AKM leavers, early & late versions - $35 each
East German AK47 T3 - $45 each
1x Bulgarian T3 AKK - $45
North Korean T68 Lot - 2x Underfold Stock, both complete w/ hardware (1x missing sling loop) 1x rear trunnion w/out weldment, 1x front trunnion, 1x Bolt & bolt carrier (SN=3300) Handguard retainer (locking leaver seperated from retainer, but present), RSB (missing leaf), BFPU grip. - Lot = $545
Polish BFPU AKM lot (recoil rod, bolt (complete) FSB, gas block, safety, FCG parts - $125
MISC
Yugo M85 .223 Bolt - $125
Leaf springs - $2 add on
Yugo M70 grip screws - $4 add on
Yugo M92 virgin rails - $5/pair add on
Hungarian AMD65 lot - Gas block, FSB & handguard retainer - $65
Saiga/VEPR lot - FSBs, Gas Block, VEPR barrel handguard loops, FCG parts - $65

Author's Note:
Reddit was having issues when I posted the last chapter, so just in case anyone missed it, the previous chapter (197) starts here.
Also, the next chapter will come out a week from now, on June 5th.
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--
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Two Days Later
"AMBUSH!"
Rob's eyes snapped open. Panicked shouts were resounding from outside his tent. The first notion that popped into his sleep-addled mind was relief, as an ambush was preferable to the nightmare he'd been having. That sentiment lasted until a distant explosion obliterated the final remnants of his drowsiness, sending him and Keira sprinting out of their tent with weapons in hand.
Chaos awaited them outside. People weren't quite running around like chickens with their heads cut off, but it was close. While the coalition had known that a night attack was possible and prepared themselves accordingly, no one was ever truly ready to be assaulted with spells and Skills as they frolicked through dreamland. Arrows peppered the ground at their feet, the majority landing harmlessly away, although Rob spotted a few soldiers with fresh wounds seeping blood.
He spared a passing glance for the numerous banners the coalition had erected across their campsite. Each one was raised twenty feet high, decorated with lights in order to glow in the dark, and marked with wartime symbols indicating a desire to engage in peaceful negotiations. The Harpies answered by filling the banners with arrow holes and setting many of them on fire. Diplomacy's plan had been doomed from the start.
Kicking his brain into high gear, Rob activated Quick Thinking and sent Messages checking on Riardin's Rangers. His eyes traveled up towards the night sky, seeing a canvas of pure darkness broken up by stars and moonlight. It must have been the dead of midnight or close to it. Arrows were impossible to see coming before they'd already hit the ground, and the only indication of Harpies flying above were the shadows blotting out the stars every so often.
Thankfully, the coalition had planned for this. As if on cue, multiple orbs of brilliant light shot upwards, mages from each faction contributing to the effort. The orbs hung in the sky like floating lighthouses, banishing enough darkness to allow Rob to see what he was dealing with.
A resigned expletive slipped out of his mouth. There had to be at least four hundred of the fuckers up there, maybe five hundred, swarming like a colony of feathered bees. It was the worst-case scenario of what the coalition envisioned – Elnaril sending the maximum number of Harpies he could realistically field without leaving the capital undefended.
How am I supposed to fight them? Rob wondered, asking himself a recurring question that he'd never been able to answer. They can't kill me with piddly arrows and long-range spells, but my allies aren't so durable. Somehow I doubt they'll listen if I tell them to stop being cowards and come fight me in melee range.
All thoughts of attacking were swept aside when the Harpies began dropping a very different projectile towards the coalition base camp. Rob opened and closed his mouth several times, shock suffusing every cell in his body. He recalled the explosion that had awoken him, the moment now disturbingly re-contextualized.
The Harpies were airdropping crates of Firebombs.
"THAT'S COPYRIGHT INFRINGEMENT, YOU LITTLE SHITS!" Rob summoned his own crate from his Bound Items, tore open the cover, and grabbed a Firebomb in each hand. He activated Bulk Up for extra Strength and hurled Firebombs towards the falling crates with the best baseball throws he could muster. One, two, three, four, five, six – the crate's supply rapidly depleted as Rob threw again and again, trying to intercept as many payloads as possible, Keira following his lead. They were joined by coalition archer support, arrows sniping at crates that were out of reach.
Dozens of roaring explosions lit up the sky. While some of the crates had gotten through, most were turned to dust before they could hit the ground, reducing the Harpies' shock-and-awe tactic to an impromptu fireworks display.
Throwing Proficiency Level Increased! 6 → 7
Throwing Proficiency Level Increased! 7 → 8
"THAT'S RIGHT!" Rob whooped. "LEAVE THE KABOOMS TO THE EXPERTS!" He paused, then turned to Keira, looking abashed. "Um...was this my fault? Are they actually copying me?" Please don't tell me I accidentally advanced warfare by a century.
"We can ruminate on that later," Keira answered, skillfully dodging the question. "For now, we should focus on retaliating by any means available."
No sooner had the words left her mouth than a glowing yellow projectile shot up into the sky. Orn'tol's Chain Arrow nicked a Harpy on the edge of their wing – which was all it needed to begin the process. A tenth of a second later, the arrow veered to the right and struck a different Harpy in their stomach. It ripped out and through the other side, taking another ninety-degree turn to spear an unsuspecting Harpy in the back. And so it went, chaining from target-to-target with ruthless efficiency. By the end, twenty Harpies had been struck, eight of them falling out of the sky, unmoving.
Rob saluted the display. "Yeah, I don't have any ranged attacks on that level. I think we'd be better-off guarding the people who do."
They rushed over to where the Fiend mages resided, discovering the group huddled under cover, besieged by a stream of arrows and spells hammering down around them. Rob sent off a quick Message to Vul'to, then jumped in front of an icicle spell that would have gored a Fiend through her neck. "Sup."
"Lord Roy!" The Fiend's jubilation froze when she saw the icicle sticking out of Rob's shoulder. "Are–"
"No time for chitchat. If I cover you, can you fire back?"
After some thought, the mages nodded. Rob gave them a thumbs-up with his left hand and deflected an arrow with his right. He turned his full attention to the projectile storm raining from above, calculating which ones he'd be able to block and which ones he'd need to take on the chin.
The next few minutes became a blur of activity. Arrow. Skill. Arrow. Spell. Spell. Skill. Arrow. Arrow. It never ended. His slow walk towards Harpy Settlement #4 was proving to be an invaluable experience, because he wasn't sure if he could've kept up now without already knowing how to handle a barrage of small projectiles. Even Keira was struggling; while Danger Sense told her where she needed to move, it was reaching a point where she physically couldn't execute the motions fast enough. Rob would've expected the Harpies to lay off once they noticed that he was there to play defense, but if anything, they were attacking more fiercely than before.
Almost as if they held a grudge against him or something.
Outwardly, he was projecting the supreme confidence of a Leader. Inwardly, he was honestly starting to get a bit worried. While he'd only taken about 300 HP of damage, a different resource was beginning to wane: his Stamina. Quick Thinking consumed 3 Stamina for every second it was active. That combined with his constant movement was...tiring. He'd activated Second Wind to restore 35% of his Stamina, but unlike his Vitality-based abilities, this one had a cooldown of 24 hours. In a couple minutes, he might actually need to ask for a short break.
Was that the end of the world? No. Was it embarrassing? Potentially. Leaders weren't supposed to ask for breaks. At least, he thought they weren't. Elatrans could be weird about what constituted a good Leader. Rob was still figuring out when he was supposed to act like an invulnerable pillar versus when he was allowed to be a real person. I miss when I didn't have to care about this sort of thing.
His reputation was saved by Vul'to's timely arrival. The Soul Guardian burst onto the scene in a mad dash, skid to a halt, took a stance, activated Auto-Guard, and proceeded to swat away the Harpies' projectiles as if they were no more than gnats. "I will protect the mages from here on out," he calmly stated. Vul'to's movements flowed like water, his voice showing no sign of exertion as he spoke. "Put your efforts towards an offensive strike."
Rob suppressed a relieved sigh as he deactivated Quick Thinking. "For the record, when our Party inevitably complains about my risk-taking later, I'm going to say that both you and Keira signed off on a Rob Plan."
"You can't be serious," Keira blurted out, panting heavily as she rested. "Our enemies are in the sky. What scheme could you have possibly concocted that would put you at risk?"
Rob hesitated. He was distinctly aware of the mages listening in as they fired spells, devoting a portion of their brainpower to gathering gossip material. Anything he said here would reflect on his status as Leader. That included overly-casual speech and devising schemes that by all rights should get him a one-way ticket to the loony bin.
Then he remembered that allies were dying around him, and he stopped caring so much about what other people thought.
"My usual method for dealing with mobile enemies is Rampage spam," he began to explain. "That isn't viable here. I'd run out of MP long before I reached their altitude, and even if I somehow made it, what then? I can't dodge mid-air. They'd turn me into a pincushion. So here's what I was thinking..."
His explanation was brief. By the time he'd finished, the mages were staring at him with eyes wide as saucers. Keira merely nodded. "Very well. I'll accept it."
"No complaints?"
"You left yourself an escape route. That already makes this plan safer than most." She turned away, gesturing for him to follow. "Let's go find Malika. If I'm not mistaken, she'll be at Orn'tol's side."
It wasn't hard to locate her. They only needed to trace the empowered spells blasting upwards like rocket launchers. Rob did a rough headcount of the Harpies' numbers, estimating that, despite their ambush, the battle wasn't going well for them. Over forty had been felled by Malika's spells, Orn'tol's arrows, and the other coalition mages and archers. The Dwarven riflemen were also putting in work, gunshots echoing as Harpies were struck by blindingly fast projectiles they'd come entirely unprepared for, their race inducted into a new era of war with a baptism of lead and gunpowder.
Conversely, Rob would bet his life savings that not even fifteen coalition members had perished. While he didn't have any proof of this, he knew from experience that basic arrows and mediocre spells lost striking power when fired from a long range. And unlike the Harpies' army consisting of everyone-they-could-get, the coalition soldiers were the elite of each territory. They were tougher, stronger, and had access to superior healing magic. In this instance, quality trumped quantity.
Especially when the quality was so lopsided. As Rob ran, he saw a lightning spear shoot up towards the sky and explode into a ball of electricity, frying a dozen Harpies in an instant. Moments later, the surrounding air seemed to dry out, like a heat wave passing through, as moisture was collected into a towering plume of water. Once it was ready, the plume burst upwards and casually washed away another dozen Harpies as if they were drowned rats.
Sylpeiros and Cyraeneus. Ambush or no ambush, long range or close range – didn't matter. Leaders were terrifying in every scenario.
Rob found Malika and Orn'tol in good spirits. The siblings had a whole squad of Vanguards protecting them, like a pair of pint-sized siege cannons with ground support. "Rob!" Malika exclaimed, the instant she saw him. "MP Potions! Forthwith!"
In a flash of blue mana, he produced three Potions from Spatial Storage. "Your humble servant is here," he remarked, in a tone drier than the air.
"Only three Potions? Bah! Give me more!"
"Your humble servant has no wish to deal with an Archmage with a hangover."
Grumbling, she grabbed the Potions and chugged them like a frat boy on spring break. Rob rated her chugging prowess at a solid 7 out of 10, judging that – while she'd grown considerably – there was still room for improvement.
"Should..." Orn'tol started to say something, then thought better of it. Rob could guess what he was thinking. The boy was worried that they weren't being properly respectful of the situation, joking around in the middle of a warzone where allies were suffering. He'd likely come to the same conclusion as Rob: that letting Malika keep her morale up was more important. "Are we winning?" he instead asked.
"Easily," Rob affirmed. That was never in doubt. It would've taken something going catastrophically wrong for them to be in danger of losing. In reality, today's battle was just another leg in the extended marathon that the coalition was running. Rather than obsessing over a transient victory that was all but guaranteed, they needed to minimize casualties so that taking the Harpy capital was a feasible prospect. That meant being careful, guarding their back lines, and only attacking when it was safe.
Oh, and crushing the Harpies so that they wised up and retreated.
"I am...concerned," Orn'tol admitted. "The Harpies should have been aware of our strength. Yet by the end of this night, unless they soon retreat, their losses will mount in the hundreds. Why waste so much life?"
Rob narrowed his eyes at the sky. "Couple possibilities. Elnaril could be screwing around. Blights think that wasting life is absolutely hilarious. He is part Leader, though, so I can't imagine he'd be quite that frivolous with his resources. With that in mind, I don't think the Harpies are going to fight to the last man – they probably came here intending to thin our numbers and skedaddle. Severe losses would prevent us from being able to seize the capital. Their initial Firebomb barrage could've potentially done that on its own."
"And it failed."
"Sure did. Now they're stuck trying to do it the old-fashioned way." Rob shrugged. "They might have a backup plan. If so, we'll handle it, no worries." He faced Malika. "Speaking of plans, I've got one. Do you mind holding onto some MP for me?"
She opened her mouth to respond – then froze, her head turning sideways. Rob followed Malika's gaze towards the Gellin encampment, his brow furrowing at what he saw. All thirty Gellin were exiting their tents in near-perfect unison. They reminded Rob of a collection of wind-up animatronics, with movements that weren't entirely synchronized and robotic, yet also weren't dissimilar enough to appear fully lifelike. As the Gellin drifted forward, moonlight mixed with the light emanating from the mages' sun orbs, bathing them in an almost ethereal glow.
A small shiver crept up Rob's spine. He didn't know why, but something about the situation was giving him the heebie-jeebies. Maybe it was because he'd never seen a Gellin awake at this hour before. He'd gone on more than one midnight walk to clear his head after a bout of nightmares, and while he'd met the occasional Fiend, Dwarf, Elf, or Merfolk, the Gellin were always sequestered in their tents.
His shiver crawled up to the back of his neck, making its little hairs stand on end as a thrum of mana built within the Gellin. Even Rob's meager Sense Mana could feel it. Thirty Gellin had joined into three Mage Circles, linking their power, creating...something. A force. An aura. It lacked physical form, yet felt no less threatening than one of Sylpeiros' lightning spears.
The space above them seemed to shimmer, as if viewed through a lightly-smudged eyeglass. Virtually invisible if you weren't paying close attention.
Or if you were flying hundreds of feet in the air.
The Harpies didn't try to avoid it. They didn't even know it was there. Lightning spears and plumes of water were obvious. Flashy. The Gellins' something simply wafted upwards, like rising heat, until it reached the sky and engulfed a multitude of Harpies in a devouring fog.
Piercing screams cut through the din of warfare.
The affected Harpies reacted in different ways. Some went still as statues. Some writhed as if electrocuted. Some began attacking invisible enemies. But regardless of how they reacted, they all fell, and they all screamed.
Rob covered his ears. It was the worst sound he'd heard since Elnaril laughed at him through a Message Crystal. The battlefield didn't completely grind to a halt, but it definitely slowed, with both the attackers and defenders needing to process what the fuck just happened.
"Was that Mind Magic?" Malika whispered, her bravado gone and vanished.
"It appears so," Keira quietly answered.
"I...did not know it could do that."
"Neither did I."
After shaking his head to reset his thoughts, Rob stepped back from everyone, ensuring that he was out of their line of sight. Much as he wanted to take a breather, he couldn't. The Harpies were reeling – this was a perfect opportunity to execute his plan.
He just needed to finish the prepwork. Hefting his longsword, Rob turned it around and pointed it at his heart.
And paused.
My hands are shivering, he realized. Why are my hands shivering? I've done this before. He willed his hands to stay still, nearly snarling when they failed to cooperate. This is a waste of time. Don't be a fucking bitch, Rob. Just lie back and think of England.
Stab.
Stab.
Stab.
Lifesurge.
Living Bomb ready.
Rob used Spatial Storage to switch his clothes for an unbloodied ensemble, then tapped Malika on her shoulder. "Do you have enough MP for a big wind spell?"
She blinked, jolted out of her reverie. "Oh. Um, yes. Why?"
He told her of his plan. A broad grin split across her face, transitioning into an excited cackle. "You're a madman. Let's do that straight away."
As Malika charged her spell, Rob attached a Waymark point to the ground, then summoned the Dwarven Sheet Metal from his Bound Items. Keira, Orn'tol, and the Vanguards spread out to give them some space. The Vanguards were looking on in awe; Rob could only hope that they'd enjoy the show.
"We have to time this just right," he told Malika. "Fire the spell on three. Understand?" She nodded so hard that she probably gave herself whiplash. Rob placed his longsword in Storage, holding the Sheet Metal with both hands.
"One." Malika held onto her spell, ready to unleash the fury of an Archmage with a cause.
"Two." Rob leaped into the air, positioning the Sheet Metal under his feet like a surfboard.
"Three!"
A miniaturized tornado slammed into the Sheet Metal, propelling Rob up, up, and away. He lost his balance pretty much immediately, tumbling onto the Sheet as wind pressure buffeted him without mercy. His ascent skyward was so sudden and so jarring that he was actually surprised when he came face-to-face with a Harpy. The two of them exchanged bewildered stares. Rob felt tempted to say a variant of one of the classics, like 'You come here often?'
Then he remembered why he was there.
This was it. No going back. Justified or necessary or otherwise, once he activated Living Bomb, he will have spilled Harpy blood on Harpy soil. There was a sense of finality to it that almost made him hesitate.
Almost.
"I wish you'd stayed home," Rob muttered. The Harpy's survival instincts kicked in, his wings flapping in a hurry, yet it was already too late. You couldn't outrun a thought.
Living Bomb.
The world became obscured by flame, heat, and noise. Rob wasn't sure how many Harpies he'd caught in the blast radius, but the EXP infusing his soul informed him that it was more than a few. Without waiting, he cast Rampage to push himself out of the Bomb's center, then Waymarked to safety so that the Harpies couldn't take revenge after the Bomb faded. The Rampage movement was a necessity; he wasn't taking any chances that using Waymark while in the middle of the Bomb might somehow bring it back with him.
His feet now on solid ground, Rob was treated to an awe-inspiring spectacle. A colossal sphere of fire hung above, like the core of an angry sun, its surface twisting with unbridled energy. The sound it emitted was one long, continuous, ear-splitting explosion, as if the Bomb was a sentient creature noisily lamenting the ones who'd escaped its grasp. This was the first time Rob had seen his Skill from an outside perspective, and in that instant, he truly understood why it was so effective at shattering morale.
As it did now. Living Bomb rapidly faded, but by then the Harpies were already in retreat. The one-two punch of the Gellins' mind attack and a giant fuckoff explosion had doubled their casualties in a matter of seconds. Even if that combo hadn't broken their spirits, not withdrawing at this point would be tantamount to suicide.
Rob allowed his shoulders to relax as a collective sigh of relief passed through the coalition. Their battle was over. Victory was – Wait, what's up with that guy?
Relief gave way to confusion as they noticed a figure in the distance sprinting towards them. It was an...Elf? One of Sylpeiros' Scouts? As everyone watched, the Elf in question passed straight under the fleeing Harpies, neither faction looking at each other as they traveled in opposite directions. The sight was borderline surreal, adding another obstacle to the emotional gamut that Rob was still running. Maybe I can go to bed and pretend I didn't see anything.
Plausible deniability was taken from him a moment later, when the Elf got within range of the coalition's Heightened Senses and started bellowing at the top of his longs. "MONSTERS! PACK OF MONSTERS AND BEASTS! LEVEL 50 AND ABOVE!"
His declaration just left them more confused. There was no such thing as a pack of high-Leveled monsters roaming the surface of Elatra. At first Rob thought that a Dungeon had grown for too long and was beginning to overflow, but the truth ended up being far stranger.
"About...thirty...monsters and animals," the Elf Scout wheezed, once he'd gotten close and could speak in full sentences. "Coming this way. Some are...natural-born. Beasts who've lived for centuries. Others are monsters. Used Identify. Think they...were plucked from Dungeons."
Everyone glanced at Sylpeiros, an unspoken message in their eyes: "He's your Scout. You sort out this mess." The Seneschal put on a deep scowl, somehow managing to direct it at over a dozen people simultaneously. Once he was sure they'd received the full force of his ire, he composed his features and turned towards the exhausted Scout.
"While I don't doubt your words, what you've described is nonsensical. Setting aside how such an eclectic group of creatures was brought together...monsters and natural-born animals are hardly allies. They'd rip each other to pieces under normal circumstances. Animals from differing species would be at odds as well."
"I am merely reporting what I've seen. In one such example, I witnessed an enormous bat flying alongside a misshapen creature of mana that could only have been spawned within the depths of a high-Level Dungeon."
"Are the animals infected?" Rob asked. "This sort of thing happened back when The Village of Ixatan Forest was invaded. Animals got possessed by the Blight."
The Scout paused, searching through his memories – or rather, his log of system notifications. "Yes. An 'Infected' Status Effect appeared when I Identified the animals. Until you provided context, I was unaware of what that implied."
As Sylpeiros continued speaking with the Scout, Rob stopped to think, constructing a timeline of events. This pack of high-Level creatures couldn't have been assembled on short notice. It must've been years in the making, Elnaril searching Harpy territory with a fine-tooth comb, scooping up wildlife and plundering Dungeons.
Rob resisted the urge to shake his fist at the sky. When Kismet warned him that Elnaril had 'strong creatures' to use, it would've been nice to have some extra fucking details. Vague omnipotent asshole.
Anyway. Elnaril corrals his Pokemon, then prepares to ambush the coalition along with his Harpies. Except...the timing went wrong. Or maybe the position? Controlling that many powerful creatures couldn't be easy. Like attempting to drive thirty cars at the same time. It was probably why the coalition hadn't been ambushed until now – Elnaril was waiting for them to get closer. Regardless, the plan was likely supposed to be the Harpies attacking in tandem with the monsters...but the bombing run largely failed, and the monsters were late to the party.
Rob grimaced as he realized how much of the coalition's victory came down to blind luck. Elnaril's plan was unsuccessful due to logistical issues on his side, not because of any stratagem on the coalition's part. If the Harpies had successfully used their pets as distractions, unloading crates of Firebombs while high-Level creatures ran amok through the battlefield...
The coalition still would have won. But their casualties would've been enormous. Enough to make invading the capital untenable.
Everyone else came to the same conclusion as they listened to the Scout's tale. Sylpeiros remained silent for a time, looking more pensive than someone might expect from a Leader who'd just prevailed in battle. "We shall discuss areas of improvement at a later date," he said, sighing. "How long until the monsters arrive?"
"Roughly four minutes."
Sylpeiros drummed his fingers on his thigh. "While we could swarm the monsters with superior numbers, the vast majority of our soldiers are unsuited for combating enemies over Level 50. The monster will fall, but not before inflicting casualties. Instead, I propose that myself, Cyraeneus, and Riardin's Rangers go forth and hold the line. The rest of our soldiers will defend base camp, kept out of harm's way, firing projectiles at whichever beasts draw near."
He frowned. "Even so, thirty monsters above Level 50 aren't so easily repelled. They may be able to fly, or have carapaces that blunt conventional attacks. It would be best if the entire lot focuses on our group, but some will choose to bypass the front line in favor of assaulting the coalition base camp. Casualties are inevitable."
"No. They aren't."
Rob stepped forward, walking in the direction the Scout had come from. A familiar swell of anticipation built within him. "Counter-proposal. I go. Alone. You all stay and deal with whoever slips past."
Numerous opposing voices exploded in unison. Rob countered them with an explosion of his own, summoning a crate of Firebombs and chucking it into the distance. The faint BOOM bought him a moment of stunned silence.
"No bullshitting," he said, fixing them with an intent gaze. "You want to minimize casualties? This is how we do it. Base camp will be vulnerable without high-Level people to protect it. Hell, some of you might die if you try to 'hold the line' in the middle of an open field. It only takes one screwup to get your head bitten off, and the monsters outnumber us. But me?"
With a flourish, Rob summoned his longsword and activated Step of the Wind. "They. Can't. Kill. Me."
He was off before anyone could raise another protest. None of them followed, perhaps sensing something in his voice indicating that it would be a bad idea. Just as well – Rob would've physically thrown back anyone who tried.
No one else needed to risk their lives today.
It only took him three minutes of running at full speed to locate the monster stampede. They were impossible to miss; a menagerie of oversized animals and abominations with the strength to depopulate a city. For almost anyone else in Elatra, the sight would have filled them with the dread of someone who knew their death was imminent, and that they could do nothing to stop the reaper's scythe from swinging.
Rob waved. The monsters screeched when they saw him, letting out a symphony that could be graciously described as hideous. Music to my ears. Out of curiosity, he cast Identify on the first one in line to die.
Name: Lord of the CavesLevel: 57Race: Blighted BatStatus Effects: Infected, ThirstyDescription: An existence well above Ixatan's Lord of the Forest that nearly killed you three times over. Gee, I wonder what happens now that you're 70 Levels higher and with pent-up resentment towards big beasties? Play nice, Rob, or you'll break your toys.
"Sorry, but breaking them is the fun part." Inwardly, Rob sent thanks to Elnaril for delivering him a herd of acceptable targets to use as living stress balls. After the unpleasantness of being forced to kill his first non-Blighted Harpies, this was a golden opportunity to let loose – and he was going to make damn good use of it.
The monsters drew closer. Any second now, the carnage would commence. Elation and certainty mingled within him, letting him know that he was in his element. He emptied his mind of worries, soaking in the view. There were no war strategies, allied casualties, or moral quandaries to concern himself with.
Just him, and his prey.
Rampage. Rob flew upwards towards the Lord of the Caves. It was a freakish behemoth of a bat, its head as large as a man's body. The creature sank its fangs into Rob's torso, biting down as if four longswords were piercing through him, vital organs shredded to confetti.
637 Piercing Damage Sustained!
It tickled. Rob completed his swing, landing a direct hit on the Lord's head. He didn't activate any additional offensive abilities, because he didn't need to. Blood for Blood increased his damage based on his missing HP. Rampage highly increased the damage of his next attack. Headsman increased his damage by 25% when attacking an enemy's head. Bone Breaker doubled the damage he dealt to an enemy's bone structure.
With all those passive effects stacking onto each other, the bat's neck was almost severed in one clean stroke. Thanks to Lifesteal, Rob immediately recovered most of his lost HP, like nothing had ever happened. Despite the bat's head hanging by threads, it stubbornly clung to life for a few moments longer – but only a few.
Swordsmanship Level Increased! 9 → 10
One down. Plenty to go. Rob pivoted to the next-closest monster, a gargantuan bear that reminded him of an Ixatan beast that had caved his chest in, once upon a time. Emboldened by nostalgia, he put a bit more oomph into his next attack, stacking Rampage, Power Slash, and Imbue Vitality.
The bear's outer hide was abnormally tough, similar to a Vanguard's armor. That mattered up until the point Rob broke the skin, after which Imbue Vitality's quadruple damage effect savaged the beast from within, its insides reduced to crimson mush.
Level Increased! 84 → 85
5 Stat Points Gained!
BERSERKER Level Increased! 82 → 83
An apelike creature with distended arms leaped ahead of the rest of the pack, enormous hands wrapping around Rob before he could dodge. It let out a warbling bellow, squeezing down with enough pressure to bend steel. Rob's bones, durable as they were, started to crack.
Vitamin D(efense) Level Increased! 10 → 11
Cute. He flicked on the Flames of Vengeance, azure fire covering his body. A grin spread over Rob's face as the beast shrieked and let go. "No, no, we were having a moment. Don't hide from your emotions." Rampaging forward, he jumped on the ape's head and gave it a big ole' hug. The shrieks intensified, mighty fists pounding at his body, fracturing more bones in a desperate attempt to dislodge him.
It was all for naught. The ape's struggles slowed, then ceased, its brain cooked from the inside like spaghetti in a microwave.
Pyromania Level Increased! 2 → 3
The next one on the chopping block was an honest-to-god giant spider. Rob shivered as he summoned a crate of Firebombs and promptly Riardin Special'd the skittering menace into the hereafter. Arachnophobia's 300% damage bonus against spiders combined with Pyromania's 30% fire damage bonus – well, 40% now – meant that it lasted about two seconds before crumbling like a pile of chitinous kindling.
Good riddance. Monsters and abominations were one thing. Spiders...ugh.
Rob checked back the way he'd come from, narrowing his eyes when he saw that a couple monsters had skirted past him while he dealt with their friends. He chased after something that must've been birthed in a Dungeon on a bender, its body comprised of flying limbs and harsh edges that hurt to look at if he stared for too long.
The floating Picasso painting in monster form suddenly whirled around, aiming multiple sharpened points at Rob's head, neck, eyes, heart, and liver. It was a phenomenally well-executed attack that would have been the envy of any Combat Class user.
Unfortunately, Picasso had chosen the one target in the world that could turn lethality into a detriment. With a thought, Rob deactivated all of his defensive Skills, then activated Dauntless Reprisal, reflecting the damage of five grievous blows back onto the creature. It collapsed into itself, twitching on the ground, silently pleading for mercy as a longsword ended its suffering.
Swordsmanship Level Increased! 10 → 11
As Rob reactivated his defensive Skills and chose his next target, something in the monsters' attitudes shifted. Several of them went from stampeding ahead to turning towards him on a dime. Their movements were stiff and jerky, as if puppeteered by an unseen force.
"Hi Elnaril!" Rob twirled his longsword. "Hope you don't mind me Old Yeller-ing your pets here. I'm sad to say that you didn't train them prop–"
The creatures pounced in unison. Claws and fangs savaged Rob's from head to toe, tearing off limbs and pulling apart flesh. A good chunk of his body mass disappeared in seconds.
Platelet Party Level Increased! 20 → 21
1021 Combined Damage Sustained!
"Wow, that's a lot of damage." Rob grinned, blood dripping from the corners of his mouth. "On an unrelated note, guess what Skill just came off cooldown?"
BOOM.
Level Increased! 85 → 86
5 Stat Points Gained!
BERSERKER Level Increased! 83 → 84
BERSERKER Level Increased! 84 → 85
Rob stood in the center of a crater. Living Bomb had ripped the ground open like scooping ice cream. He was once again back to full health, Lifesteal having converted 50% of the damage he'd dealt into HP.
And he'd dealt a lot of damage.
"It's like I said," he whispered, to nothing in particular. "They can't kill me. When I put my mind to it, I'm a better monster than they could ever hope to be."
The thought didn't distress him like it would have back home on Earth. It wasn't so bad, being a monster to monsters. Kept his friends alive, put food on the table...there were worse careers, he supposed.
Rob jumped out of the crater, searching for new targets. Living Bomb wasn't nearly large enough to take out all of them at once. He set his eyes on a fleeing wyvern and gave chase. As the gap closed, he checked his available Skills, and oh would you look at that, Imbue Vitality was off cooldown now.
Swordsmanship Level Increased! 11→ 12
One monster fell. Then another. Then another. Rob alternated his Skills, rotating between whatever abilities were available.
Swordsmanship Level Increased! 12→ 13
More creatures tried ganging up on him. It didn't work.
Platelet Party Level Increased! 21 → 22
Headsman! 4 → 5
He sliced and cut and Firebombed everything in his path.
Pyromania Level Increased! 3 → 4
Until eventually...
Level Increased! 86 → 87
5 Stat Points Gained!
BERSERKER Level Increased! 85 → 86
There was nothing left.
Rob found himself surrounded by a pile of mangled corpses. He tried counting to see if he could reach thirty, then gave up. Too many mixed-up body parts. It was likely that a couple monsters had gotten past him, so he'd just have to hope for the best.
His prayers were answered when he arrived back at base camp. A wide smile split across Rob's face as he counted a mere six monster corpses littered around the outskirts. They hadn't even gotten close. Most importantly, there wasn't a single allied corpse anywhere in sight.
Zero casualties.
Everyone was staring at him with various looks on their faces. Rob didn't bother trying to decipher all of them. They could think whatever they wanted to think – results were what mattered. The coalition may have lost some soldiers in the Harpy attack, but from the monster stampede?
Zero goddamn casualties.
Rob took a bow, then went straight for his tent. He wasn't going to find a better note to sleep on than this. His consciousness faded the moment he closed his eyes.
And the nightmares didn't dare to come for him.
​
--
​
Changes, Character Sheet, Skill List
Thanks for reading!

Pics and Timestamp
Greetings, Swappers!
I'm pricing things to move (I think). AC is acting funny and has me nervous!
Up for sale today are the following:

• Chris Reeve Knives small sebenza drop point in polished S45VN black canvas micarta.
  • DOB: 02/22/22
  • Ownership: I'm the second owner.
  • Blade: has only cut paper. Factory edge and very sharp.
  • Body: Near perfect with one knick where a put a deep carry clip on. This is show in the video.
  • Centering: Near perfect.
  • Included: CRK cloth, CRK hardware, box, papers, and a blue anodized Millit titanium clip (not installed). Millit's site.
  • SV: $390 PayPal Friends & Family only. SOLD!
• Urban EDC F5.5 in black micarta and acid etched blade.
  • Ownership: I'm the first owner.
  • Blade: Amazon package cutter. Has only been stropped.
  • Body: The scales show some signs of wear, but still in great shape. About 50% lockup on the liner lock. This is shown in the 11th pic.
  • Centering: Favors show side slightly. This is show in the 6th pic.
  • Included: OEM box and pouch.
  • SV: $170 PayPal Friends & Family only. SOLD

Ships USPS priority on Tuesday, May 30th.

TimeStamp: https://imgur.com/a/2xpwi8R
Happy Memorial Day weekend!
I’m having a need to pay for ER vet bills blow out sale! Thanks doggo
HSP Thorax RG Medium $450 OBO •OG TRMP Placard •Large Structural Cummerbund •Light Sodium use
HSP Flatpack Plus /w straps $100 • Has replacement zipper pulls and extra ones to go with it •Has seen use
AWS SMU BELT SETUP $325 OBO • SIZE Large COLOR Ranger Green •HSP Double Pistol mag pouch RG • HSP Single Rifle Mag pouch Gen 1 x 2 RG • Coyote tactical Stomp XL RG • TREX ARMS Ragnarok G19 /w TLR1 RG • TREX ARMS Leg strap Ranger Green • SafariLand QLS AND UBL BLACK • Slight use
PSA 10.5 FSB UPPER $200 • Includes Bolt carrier group • Includes charging handle • No Use
Eagle H-Harness $60 • Surplus New • has all foam padding • No Use
TREX ARMS UNO $90 • Color Black • Size Medium • No Use
FREE RED SLING Upon purchase and if you want it I have no use for it
PICTURES: https://imgur.com/a/2xpwi8R WILL INCLUDE PICTURE OF DOG UPON REQUEST
Payment via PayPal F&F no notes

I was pouring drink number three when my phone rang… I'm 20 years old, a little drunk and in about an hour, I will have almost shot my colleague in the chest in front of three police officers and two frozen dead bodies. Weird. I can't say that I'm mentally ready for what I'm about to see this evening, who’s ever really ready to walk into a garage with a Chevy Cavalier riddled with bullets and two frozen gang bangers inside. My name is Grant and These are My Funeral Home Stories.
Chapter Two: three drinks, Two dead & One Candy Bar
It's about six o'clock on the 3rd Tuesday in February and factoring in the windchill, it's negative 14 degrees outside. I've been off of work for about an hour and I'm not on call tonight…So naturally, I'm just finishing up my second drink and considering whether to order pizza or Chinese tonight. I use my finger to stop by drink from bubbling over and the phone rings. It’s Andy, one of the directors from the funeral home that’s on call when Ned and I are off AND apparently the person he's on call with this evening is unreachable…If it's your job to be on call, you don't want this to happen. It's almost the equivalent of a no call no show at any other job. If you're on call, the only thing you have to do is wait for the phone to ring and when it does ring, you answer it. It’s really not that hard.
Andy is calling me to ask if I would fill in and go on a police call with him. There was a shooting and apparently there are two frozen dead bodies in a car… inside the police station. OK. Why are they at the police station? Great question. Apparently it was too cold outside to investigate and process the crime scene so they moved the crime scene into a heated garage inside a police station. This all sounds incredibly interesting to me but there's only one problem… I'm drunk. Well, on my way to drunk and I'm not old enough to drink. I'm not going anywhere near a police station. I explained to Andy that I'm in no condition to drive to the funeral home and he'd have to find someone else. He interrupted me and said, “ but you're not old enough to drink. Stay put. I'm picking you up. See you in 10.” He hung up the phone before I had time to argue.
Welp. Looks like I'm going to the police station against all better judgment. I finish my third drink as I put on my black 3 button double breasted black suit by Chaps that I picked up at Kohls. (Side note: all my other suits were at the dry cleaners. I hate this suit. It makes me look like a walking rectangle.) It's our funeral home’s policy that we dress cleanly and professionally while in public. This means you ruin a lot of good dress clothes but at least you look sharp… and you can write off your dry cleaning as a job related expense.
I run a razor over my face sans shaving cream because I’m in a hurry and our funeral home also has a strict no facial hair policy. No mustaches, no goatees and definitely no beards. I'm not sure why this is a rule, It just is. I take an extra long look at myself in the mirror to make sure I have myself in order. The last thing I want to do tonight is walk into a police station looking like a sloppy, drunk unshaven underage mess. Could I get fired for getting an underage drinking ticket while on a death call? I sure hope not. I hear a horn honking in the driveway. I peak out the front window, Andy’s out front in our 2004 black Pontiac minivan. It’s a pretty slick…Instead of back seats, our van has a polished oak floor with rollers spaced evenly down the length of the van. These rollers aid in sliding caskets in and out without scratching the van or caskets.
I’m almost ready. I decided to wear a heavy wool four button top coat, scarf and rubberized dress boots by Ecco, all black of course. (Side note: Always spend extra money on ‘nicer’ boots. You don't want your socks wet on death calls.) Although I hate the suit I have on, I am wearing my favorite necktie. It's white, black and navy blue diagonally striped made from handwoven silk by Ralph Lauren. Very sharp. Remember this tie… my favorite tie, it’ll come up again later. On my way out the door I stuffed a handful of garlic flavored chips in my mouth and pulled a Nestle Butterfinger candy bar out of the pantry. The garlic will help cover up the three Jack and Cokes I just had and put a little food in my stomach. The Butterfinger…well, that's my reward. I'll eat it on the way home. I fucking love Butterfingers and why not reward myself for what I'm about to do? I'm not even on call tonight. I deserve it.
From my house to the police station, it’s about 10 minutes… a straight shot with no traffic. Andy starts nervously giggling almost immediately when my door closes and buckle my seatbelt. Funeral Directors are generally interesting people but our pal, Andy, he's a real card. I'm going to tell you a few things about Andy and hopefully won't sound too judgmental in the process. Andy had a gastric bypass surgery three years ago and as has lost about 150 pounds andI don't think he's gone clothes shopping since his weight loss. All of his suits look like they're about five sizes too big. His skin is loose around his jawline giving him a permanent droopy dog expression. It's weird seeing someone whose clothes and skin don't fit their body. He's a nervous guy and he's always afraid of getting in trouble…but somehow he's blindly confident. That's it for the positives.
Andy talks the most deliberate and malicious shit about everyone in the office. It's pathological at this point, I'm not sure he's even aware of it. You really have to watch what you say around this guy… I mean, if you don't want it repeated or used against you, don't say it around Andy. Andy's jumped from funeral home to funeral home around the country settling in towns just long enough to fuck things up and make a quick exit. He’s was a total creep and we found out a few years later that he was stealing from one of our funeral homes. He had his moments but for the most part, I didn't want anything to do with this guy…Especially after drinking almost half of my $36 bottle of Gentleman Jack. Actually, I'm probably just drunk enough to enjoy his company.
We turn on to Roosevelt, the police station is on our right. Andy has managed to keep the van under control even with the several inches of black ice and snow covering the roads. Andy tells me that we're to call a number when we're outside the police station parking garage and an officer will open the giant chain gate to let us in. The car with the dead bodies is in a separate heated garage inside the building to thaw out for processing.
It just dawned on me, I'm kind of hammered and last time I checked I'm still not old enough to drink… I feel my anxiety levels rising…I’m not super eager to walk into a police station in my current condition. My plan is to keep my head down and stay as far out of the officers’ breath smelling distance as possible. I'm so happy I decided to eat those chips before I left. I can still taste the garlic. Garlic breath is better than booze breath. I'm fairly certain they won't lock me up for having bad breath.
Andy calls the number, the gate opens and we drive down a pretty drastic slope and enter the garage filled with a fleet of police cars. There must be 40 decked out Chevy Impalas polished up and ready for dispatch. We pull forward and an officer signals us to stop next to a plain gray door in the center of a the cinder block wall on our right. Andy loaded two stretchers in the van this evening. One standard, one oversized, we get out of the van and unload both without incident. The officer walks to the back of the van and tells us to follow him.
We walk through the gray door and quickly move through three different beige hallways, no windows, just ugly plain cinderblock. I realized that I've completely lost my bearings. When we come to the end of the hallway with another gray door. I feel a combination of claustrophobia and vertigo hit me all at once or maybe that was drink number three kickin’ in. The officer opens the door and Andy and I wheel our stretchers into a 20 by 20 garage lit by the brightest fluorescent lights I've ever experienced. The temperature of the light in this room is unnerving among other things.
'Welcome to the crime lab garage' I think to myself. Immediately upon entering the room, I'm almost knocked to the floor by a smell that burns my nasal cavities. It wasn't the smell of rotting flesh or piss and shit, I’ve smelled all those things before. This was new. It’s so unique but the more Im exposed to it the more I realize I’ve smelled this before at the funeral home but I can’t place it….Then it hits me almost as intensely as the smell itself. Ammonia, that's it! It smells like someone took two or three large bottles of ammonia and just poured them all over the room. I look at Andy as we park the stretchers. We make eye contact and I pointed my nose while simultaneously making a confused face. “What the fuck is that?” I whisper.
Andy pulls two pair of blue heavy duty surgical gloves out of the front pocket of his stretcher, hands me a pair and then proceeds to blow my mind. He quietly tells me that the strong ammonia odor is coming from the blood. Apparently when someone dies suddenly all the blood cells in the body make one last screaming effort to stay alive and dump a ton of waste into the bloodstream. The waste is what gives the blood a strong scent of ammonia. You know when someone says they can smell blood in a movie or TV show? I think If this is what they're talking about.
Now that I have my gloves on and have adjusted to the smell, I take off my overcoat and suit jacket and tuck my tie between two buttons on my white dress shirt. This is simply precautionary. There is nothing worse than dipping your tie into something gross. It's almost always UNcleanable.
In this moment, I'm able to take in my surroundings. Perhaps it's the alcohol but something feels off. Under rows and rows of fluorescent lights there’s a maroon Chevy Cavalier riddled with bullet holes with all four of its doors and trunk wide open. Upon initial inspection, my eyes are drawn to two dead men in the backseat and rusted hood with a smattering of bullet holes. It seems that most of the shots were through the windshield, windows and door panels.The windshield is barely able to hold itself up.
Andy and I walk around the car to figure out our plan of attack. He flips open a black vinyl body bag, unzips it and places it on the ground next to the car and he tells me his plan. “If they’re frozen in a seated position, we won't be able to move em that easily… So we'll wiggle them out, lay them on the body bags and zip up the disaster pouch around them.” This sounds good to me. We move in.
We decided to start with the body in the driver's side backseat. The door’s already open and the hinges appear to be hyper extended. The crime scene techs probably bent the hinges while they were scrubbing the scene. Now up close, I’m finally able to take in the two dead men sitting in the backseat in front of me. These guys must have been a couple years older than me, both wearing Timberlands, black jeans and black jackets… like big puffy down jackets. One man has a New Era baseball cap on backwards while the other has a black stocking cap atop his head. I didn't see any logos but the brain matter, bullet holes and blood may have made it hard to notice. The ammonia smell inside the car is completely overwhelming. Blood is literally covering everything in the backseat. Chunks of thawing brain and meat are all over the headrest. I pick up a piece near the seat belt and squeeze it with my middle finger and thumb. It's still a little frozen so it crunches a bit before turning into mush between my fingers. I wiped my hand on a clean part of the interior.
Bullet holes are weird…For something that can end your life so quickly, they don't leave much of a mark on their way in…BUT the way out is a totally different story. I have no idea how many times these men were shot but they’re covered and destroyed by bullet holes. Chin, hands, thighs under the eyeballs and everywhere else. There wasn’t a part of either of these men’s bodies that didn’t have at least one bullet hole… I didn't see their feet though…if I’m being completely transparent.
This is gore. This is a complete horror show. Someone wanted these men dead… like seriously dead. Was it the driver or could it have been the front seat passenger? There must have been someone sitting in the front seat, right? Why else would two grown men sit in the backseat together if there was an open front seat? By the number of holes, I come to the conclusion that at least two people had to have shot up this car….Far too many holes for one shooter and it was definitely people they thought they were close to…
With half my body in the car, the smell of ammonia is blending with the smell of shit…which is undoubtedly oozing from one or all of the many holes in these men's stomachs. Thankfully, the taste of the garlic chips and whiskey I had earlier keeping me from gagging. Both men looked like they were sleeping like someone's dad or brother in the backseat on a road trip but riddled with holes and covered and smelly blood and falling human chunks.
There's only enough room for one of us in the car’s backseat door opening so Andy gets in the driver's seat backwards and reaches back around the front seat to help shimmy the body out. I press the button and unbuckle the seatbelt, it whips back into its home position startling Andy and I. Everything in this car is covered with blood or some sort of human matter. My gloves are literally covered in blood from just unbuckling the seatbelt and now the taste of the ammonia smell is dripping its way into my mouth through my throat. The officers are having some sort of quiet discussion standing by the door we came in earlier. It's not uncommon for police officers to be completely apathetic about crime scenes when the funeral home arrives. The investigation is basically over tonight these officers couldn't care less about their scene. They just wanted to get these bodies moved out of the garage so they could get home to their families. I get that… but their lack of supervision is troubling, especially with what happens next.
I am now completely hunched over the body in the back passenger seat while Andy is supervising from the front turned around in the driver's seat with his gloved hands on the headrest. I tell Andy that I think I'm strong enough to grab this man’s right forearm and slide his body out on my own. When I grabbed the man's forearm, I immediately feel something isn't right. I've grabbed lots of dead people's forearms before. None felt like this though. It was so hard and rigid….don’t get me wrong I understand this man is frozen BUT whatever I'm grabbing on to isn't human. It's something else. It's hard and feels like metal one of those cheap metal canes you'd buy at a drugstore. The three drinks circulating through my bloodstream make me curious but pensive. I tell Andy that I'm not touching a man's arm and that there's something else in this man’s jacket.
I interrupted the police officers conversation. “Hey, something isn't right here.” An officer and I switch places as he pulls out a tactical knife and starts cutting away the sleeve to the blood soaked down jacket. “It’s a FUCKING GUN.” I look over his shoulder and see the open sleeve of a jacket revealing a sawed off shotgun. The inside of the coat was some sort of bright orange material so the short barrel of the shotgun stand out…and so did the trigger but not because of its color. It stood out because of frozen dead man’s finger hooked over and frozen around it. Did I mention the gun was cocked. This means that the slightest movement would have caused a sudden discharge… The gun would have fired directly into the driver's seat, the seat where Andy was supervising from AND apparently Andy and I noticed this at the same time.
The next sound we hear was an officer saying, “Gun! Loaded gun!”
Andy and I step back while the officers deal with the gun… he's freaked out…I can tell by the blotchy greenish yellow color he skin has turned in the last 30 seconds. Andy says, “I don't like guns. I don't like guns.”
“It's cool, man. Nobody got shot.” I say not being too sympathetic. I'm definitely drunk now and the idea of a frozen dead man shooting my partner in the chest is kind of hilarious, even if it would have been my fault. I giggle internally. Andy quickly moves towards the door and says, “I need to get some fresh air” and scurries out like an asshole letting the door slam behind him. Almost at the same moment the door closed. The three officers approached me from behind, “We got it out….It was loaded. Your buddy's lucky you didn’t shoot him in the chest.” I just snicker and tell the officers my partner needed some air and that I'll make the removals myself. How hard could it be? I'll just grab and pull.
Frozen bodies move in one piece while regular room temperature bodies are just floppy deadweight. These fellas are frozen solid…they felt like moving a heavy chair or peculiar shaped table out of your friend's car. Square peg in round holes, it was actually considerably easier than I anticipated.
The sound of the two bodies hitting a cold cement after pulling them out was very satisfying…a simple loud hollow frozen thud. I'm surrounded by awfulness and all I can think about is how proud I am that I just handled this crime scene on my own. I can't wait to eat that Butterfinger waiting for me in the car. It's a fitting reward but also something to get rid of this ammonia and garlic taste overpowering my senses at the moment.
Andy still hasn't come back and we're about to zip up the last body bag. An officer had put on a pair of gloves to help me maneuver the second man's rigid bent knees into the body bag. This man's body was like a complicated Tetris piece. Once in, we each grab a zipper on either side of the black vinyl bag and zip our respective ends until they meet in the middle. I nod my head at the officer and say, “That's how it's done!”
The officer looks at me sternly and says, “Did you just come from a party?” I look at him confused and respond, ”What?”
The officer tells me that he just got a waft of alcohol. “It reeks like booze over here.” I closed my mouth quickly and my heart begins to beat out of my chest. I must smell like a distillery… so much for those garlic chips. Laughing, I say, “On a Tuesday? Come on, man!” The officer stands up and says, “Let's run a tox screen on these guys to find out how fucked up they were before getting blasted.”
Looks like a dodged a bullet. How did he smell my whiskey breath over the ammonia smell? Does my breath just smell like straight rubbing alcohol? I feel bad that these dead guys got blamed for MY alcohol breath but, at least, I won't be walking out of here with an underage drinking ticket.
Calming down and feeling relieved. I looked down on my shirt and see that my necktie, my very favorite Ralph Lauren necktie, had fallen out of my shirt at some point and had been dipped into some smelly smelly blood. Fuck! Of course I ruined my favorite necktie on a night I'm not even supposed to be working. I undo the knot and throw the tie into a biohazard bag. The rest of the removal was kind of a blur because I was laser focused thinking about that Butterfinger I left in the car. The alcohol plus all the blood smell I kind of made my stomach sour. My mouth starts to water thinking about that candy bar.
One of the officers helps me wheel the stretchers out to the van in the main area of the police station parking garage. I can see exhaust coming out of our van. It's on? Did we leave the van running? I open the back of the van to find Andy laying down in the center of the wooden roller board taking up the entire back of the van. The sound startles him and he quickly jumps up to a seated position and says, “I'm sorry man, guns really freak me out. I almost got shot…. I thought I was gonna pass out.”
I notice a yellow rapper sitting next to his right leg. He noticed that I noticed. “Oh yeah, I owe you a candy bar.” He says in a nonchalant manner.
All at once, my dislike for Andy hit me like a tidal wave. I ruined my favorite tie and this asshole ate my candy bar? Andy, sensing my disappointment and anger, didn't say another word and I imagine what it would have been like if that shot gun would have gone off.
My name is Grant and these are My Funeral Home Stories.
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I was pouring drink number three when my phone rang… I'm 20 years old, a little drunk and in about an hour, I will have almost shot my colleague in the chest in front of three police officers and two frozen dead bodies. Weird. I can't say that I'm mentally ready for what I'm about to see this evening, who’s ever really ready to walk into a garage with a Chevy Cavalier riddled with bullets and two frozen gang bangers inside. My name is Grant and These are My Funeral Home Stories.
Chapter Two: three drinks, Two dead & One Candy Bar
It's about six o'clock on the 3rd Tuesday in February and factoring in the windchill, it's negative 14 degrees outside. I've been off of work for about an hour and I'm not on call tonight…So naturally, I'm just finishing up my second drink and considering whether to order pizza or Chinese tonight. I use my finger to stop by drink from bubbling over and the phone rings. It’s Andy, one of the directors from the funeral home that’s on call when Ned and I are off AND apparently the person he's on call with this evening is unreachable…If it's your job to be on call, you don't want this to happen. It's almost the equivalent of a no call no show at any other job. If you're on call, the only thing you have to do is wait for the phone to ring and when it does ring, you answer it. It’s really not that hard.
Andy is calling me to ask if I would fill in and go on a police call with him. There was a shooting and apparently there are two frozen dead bodies in a car… inside the police station. OK. Why are they at the police station? Great question. Apparently it was too cold outside to investigate and process the crime scene so they moved the crime scene into a heated garage inside a police station. This all sounds incredibly interesting to me but there's only one problem… I'm drunk. Well, on my way to drunk and I'm not old enough to drink. I'm not going anywhere near a police station. I explained to Andy that I'm in no condition to drive to the funeral home and he'd have to find someone else. He interrupted me and said, “ but you're not old enough to drink. Stay put. I'm picking you up. See you in 10.” He hung up the phone before I had time to argue.
Welp. Looks like I'm going to the police station against all better judgment. I finish my third drink as I put on my black 3 button double breasted black suit by Chaps that I picked up at Kohls. (Side note: all my other suits were at the dry cleaners. I hate this suit. It makes me look like a walking rectangle.) It's our funeral home’s policy that we dress cleanly and professionally while in public. This means you ruin a lot of good dress clothes but at least you look sharp… and you can write off your dry cleaning as a job related expense.
I run a razor over my face sans shaving cream because I’m in a hurry and our funeral home also has a strict no facial hair policy. No mustaches, no goatees and definitely no beards. I'm not sure why this is a rule, It just is. I take an extra long look at myself in the mirror to make sure I have myself in order. The last thing I want to do tonight is walk into a police station looking like a sloppy, drunk unshaven underage mess. Could I get fired for getting an underage drinking ticket while on a death call? I sure hope not. I hear a horn honking in the driveway. I peak out the front window, Andy’s out front in our 2004 black Pontiac minivan. It’s a pretty slick…Instead of back seats, our van has a polished oak floor with rollers spaced evenly down the length of the van. These rollers aid in sliding caskets in and out without scratching the van or caskets.
I’m almost ready. I decided to wear a heavy wool four button top coat, scarf and rubberized dress boots by Ecco, all black of course. (Side note: Always spend extra money on ‘nicer’ boots. You don't want your socks wet on death calls.) Although I hate the suit I have on, I am wearing my favorite necktie. It's white, black and navy blue diagonally striped made from handwoven silk by Ralph Lauren. Very sharp. Remember this tie… my favorite tie, it’ll come up again later. On my way out the door I stuffed a handful of garlic flavored chips in my mouth and pulled a Nestle Butterfinger candy bar out of the pantry. The garlic will help cover up the three Jack and Cokes I just had and put a little food in my stomach. The Butterfinger…well, that's my reward. I'll eat it on the way home. I fucking love Butterfingers and why not reward myself for what I'm about to do? I'm not even on call tonight. I deserve it.
From my house to the police station, it’s about 10 minutes… a straight shot with no traffic. Andy starts nervously giggling almost immediately when my door closes and buckle my seatbelt. Funeral Directors are generally interesting people but our pal, Andy, he's a real card. I'm going to tell you a few things about Andy and hopefully won't sound too judgmental in the process. Andy had a gastric bypass surgery three years ago and as has lost about 150 pounds andI don't think he's gone clothes shopping since his weight loss. All of his suits look like they're about five sizes too big. His skin is loose around his jawline giving him a permanent droopy dog expression. It's weird seeing someone whose clothes and skin don't fit their body. He's a nervous guy and he's always afraid of getting in trouble…but somehow he's blindly confident. That's it for the positives.
Andy talks the most deliberate and malicious shit about everyone in the office. It's pathological at this point, I'm not sure he's even aware of it. You really have to watch what you say around this guy… I mean, if you don't want it repeated or used against you, don't say it around Andy. Andy's jumped from funeral home to funeral home around the country settling in towns just long enough to fuck things up and make a quick exit. He’s was a total creep and we found out a few years later that he was stealing from one of our funeral homes. He had his moments but for the most part, I didn't want anything to do with this guy…Especially after drinking almost half of my $36 bottle of Gentleman Jack. Actually, I'm probably just drunk enough to enjoy his company.
We turn on to Roosevelt, the police station is on our right. Andy has managed to keep the van under control even with the several inches of black ice and snow covering the roads. Andy tells me that we're to call a number when we're outside the police station parking garage and an officer will open the giant chain gate to let us in. The car with the dead bodies is in a separate heated garage inside the building to thaw out for processing.
It just dawned on me, I'm kind of hammered and last time I checked I'm still not old enough to drink… I feel my anxiety levels rising…I’m not super eager to walk into a police station in my current condition. My plan is to keep my head down and stay as far out of the officers’ breath smelling distance as possible. I'm so happy I decided to eat those chips before I left. I can still taste the garlic. Garlic breath is better than booze breath. I'm fairly certain they won't lock me up for having bad breath.
Andy calls the number, the gate opens and we drive down a pretty drastic slope and enter the garage filled with a fleet of police cars. There must be 40 decked out Chevy Impalas polished up and ready for dispatch. We pull forward and an officer signals us to stop next to a plain gray door in the center of a the cinder block wall on our right. Andy loaded two stretchers in the van this evening. One standard, one oversized, we get out of the van and unload both without incident. The officer walks to the back of the van and tells us to follow him.
We walk through the gray door and quickly move through three different beige hallways, no windows, just ugly plain cinderblock. I realized that I've completely lost my bearings. When we come to the end of the hallway with another gray door. I feel a combination of claustrophobia and vertigo hit me all at once or maybe that was drink number three kickin’ in. The officer opens the door and Andy and I wheel our stretchers into a 20 by 20 garage lit by the brightest fluorescent lights I've ever experienced. The temperature of the light in this room is unnerving among other things.
'Welcome to the crime lab garage' I think to myself. Immediately upon entering the room, I'm almost knocked to the floor by a smell that burns my nasal cavities. It wasn't the smell of rotting flesh or piss and shit, I’ve smelled all those things before. This was new. It’s so unique but the more Im exposed to it the more I realize I’ve smelled this before at the funeral home but I can’t place it….Then it hits me almost as intensely as the smell itself. Ammonia, that's it! It smells like someone took two or three large bottles of ammonia and just poured them all over the room. I look at Andy as we park the stretchers. We make eye contact and I pointed my nose while simultaneously making a confused face. “What the fuck is that?” I whisper.
Andy pulls two pair of blue heavy duty surgical gloves out of the front pocket of his stretcher, hands me a pair and then proceeds to blow my mind. He quietly tells me that the strong ammonia odor is coming from the blood. Apparently when someone dies suddenly all the blood cells in the body make one last screaming effort to stay alive and dump a ton of waste into the bloodstream. The waste is what gives the blood a strong scent of ammonia. You know when someone says they can smell blood in a movie or TV show? I think If this is what they're talking about.
Now that I have my gloves on and have adjusted to the smell, I take off my overcoat and suit jacket and tuck my tie between two buttons on my white dress shirt. This is simply precautionary. There is nothing worse than dipping your tie into something gross. It's almost always UNcleanable.
In this moment, I'm able to take in my surroundings. Perhaps it's the alcohol but something feels off. Under rows and rows of fluorescent lights there’s a maroon Chevy Cavalier riddled with bullet holes with all four of its doors and trunk wide open. Upon initial inspection, my eyes are drawn to two dead men in the backseat and rusted hood with a smattering of bullet holes. It seems that most of the shots were through the windshield, windows and door panels.The windshield is barely able to hold itself up.
Andy and I walk around the car to figure out our plan of attack. He flips open a black vinyl body bag, unzips it and places it on the ground next to the car and he tells me his plan. “If they’re frozen in a seated position, we won't be able to move em that easily… So we'll wiggle them out, lay them on the body bags and zip up the disaster pouch around them.” This sounds good to me. We move in.
We decided to start with the body in the driver's side backseat. The door’s already open and the hinges appear to be hyper extended. The crime scene techs probably bent the hinges while they were scrubbing the scene. Now up close, I’m finally able to take in the two dead men sitting in the backseat in front of me. These guys must have been a couple years older than me, both wearing Timberlands, black jeans and black jackets… like big puffy down jackets. One man has a New Era baseball cap on backwards while the other has a black stocking cap atop his head. I didn't see any logos but the brain matter, bullet holes and blood may have made it hard to notice. The ammonia smell inside the car is completely overwhelming. Blood is literally covering everything in the backseat. Chunks of thawing brain and meat are all over the headrest. I pick up a piece near the seat belt and squeeze it with my middle finger and thumb. It's still a little frozen so it crunches a bit before turning into mush between my fingers. I wiped my hand on a clean part of the interior.
Bullet holes are weird…For something that can end your life so quickly, they don't leave much of a mark on their way in…BUT the way out is a totally different story. I have no idea how many times these men were shot but they’re covered and destroyed by bullet holes. Chin, hands, thighs under the eyeballs and everywhere else. There wasn’t a part of either of these men’s bodies that didn’t have at least one bullet hole… I didn't see their feet though…if I’m being completely transparent.
This is gore. This is a complete horror show. Someone wanted these men dead… like seriously dead. Was it the driver or could it have been the front seat passenger? There must have been someone sitting in the front seat, right? Why else would two grown men sit in the backseat together if there was an open front seat? By the number of holes, I come to the conclusion that at least two people had to have shot up this car….Far too many holes for one shooter and it was definitely people they thought they were close to…
With half my body in the car, the smell of ammonia is blending with the smell of shit…which is undoubtedly oozing from one or all of the many holes in these men's stomachs. Thankfully, the taste of the garlic chips and whiskey I had earlier keeping me from gagging. Both men looked like they were sleeping like someone's dad or brother in the backseat on a road trip but riddled with holes and covered and smelly blood and falling human chunks.
There's only enough room for one of us in the car’s backseat door opening so Andy gets in the driver's seat backwards and reaches back around the front seat to help shimmy the body out. I press the button and unbuckle the seatbelt, it whips back into its home position startling Andy and I. Everything in this car is covered with blood or some sort of human matter. My gloves are literally covered in blood from just unbuckling the seatbelt and now the taste of the ammonia smell is dripping its way into my mouth through my throat. The officers are having some sort of quiet discussion standing by the door we came in earlier. It's not uncommon for police officers to be completely apathetic about crime scenes when the funeral home arrives. The investigation is basically over tonight these officers couldn't care less about their scene. They just wanted to get these bodies moved out of the garage so they could get home to their families. I get that… but their lack of supervision is troubling, especially with what happens next.
I am now completely hunched over the body in the back passenger seat while Andy is supervising from the front turned around in the driver's seat with his gloved hands on the headrest. I tell Andy that I think I'm strong enough to grab this man’s right forearm and slide his body out on my own. When I grabbed the man's forearm, I immediately feel something isn't right. I've grabbed lots of dead people's forearms before. None felt like this though. It was so hard and rigid….don’t get me wrong I understand this man is frozen BUT whatever I'm grabbing on to isn't human. It's something else. It's hard and feels like metal one of those cheap metal canes you'd buy at a drugstore. The three drinks circulating through my bloodstream make me curious but pensive. I tell Andy that I'm not touching a man's arm and that there's something else in this man’s jacket.
I interrupted the police officers conversation. “Hey, something isn't right here.” An officer and I switch places as he pulls out a tactical knife and starts cutting away the sleeve to the blood soaked down jacket. “It’s a FUCKING GUN.” I look over his shoulder and see the open sleeve of a jacket revealing a sawed off shotgun. The inside of the coat was some sort of bright orange material so the short barrel of the shotgun stand out…and so did the trigger but not because of its color. It stood out because of frozen dead man’s finger hooked over and frozen around it. Did I mention the gun was cocked. This means that the slightest movement would have caused a sudden discharge… The gun would have fired directly into the driver's seat, the seat where Andy was supervising from AND apparently Andy and I noticed this at the same time.
The next sound we hear was an officer saying, “Gun! Loaded gun!”
Andy and I step back while the officers deal with the gun… he's freaked out…I can tell by the blotchy greenish yellow color he skin has turned in the last 30 seconds. Andy says, “I don't like guns. I don't like guns.”
“It's cool, man. Nobody got shot.” I say not being too sympathetic. I'm definitely drunk now and the idea of a frozen dead man shooting my partner in the chest is kind of hilarious, even if it would have been my fault. I giggle internally. Andy quickly moves towards the door and says, “I need to get some fresh air” and scurries out like an asshole letting the door slam behind him. Almost at the same moment the door closed. The three officers approached me from behind, “We got it out….It was loaded. Your buddy's lucky you didn’t shoot him in the chest.” I just snicker and tell the officers my partner needed some air and that I'll make the removals myself. How hard could it be? I'll just grab and pull.
Frozen bodies move in one piece while regular room temperature bodies are just floppy deadweight. These fellas are frozen solid…they felt like moving a heavy chair or peculiar shaped table out of your friend's car. Square peg in round holes, it was actually considerably easier than I anticipated.
The sound of the two bodies hitting a cold cement after pulling them out was very satisfying…a simple loud hollow frozen thud. I'm surrounded by awfulness and all I can think about is how proud I am that I just handled this crime scene on my own. I can't wait to eat that Butterfinger waiting for me in the car. It's a fitting reward but also something to get rid of this ammonia and garlic taste overpowering my senses at the moment.
Andy still hasn't come back and we're about to zip up the last body bag. An officer had put on a pair of gloves to help me maneuver the second man's rigid bent knees into the body bag. This man's body was like a complicated Tetris piece. Once in, we each grab a zipper on either side of the black vinyl bag and zip our respective ends until they meet in the middle. I nod my head at the officer and say, “That's how it's done!”
The officer looks at me sternly and says, “Did you just come from a party?” I look at him confused and respond, ”What?”
The officer tells me that he just got a waft of alcohol. “It reeks like booze over here.” I closed my mouth quickly and my heart begins to beat out of my chest. I must smell like a distillery… so much for those garlic chips. Laughing, I say, “On a Tuesday? Come on, man!” The officer stands up and says, “Let's run a tox screen on these guys to find out how fucked up they were before getting blasted.”
Looks like a dodged a bullet. How did he smell my whiskey breath over the ammonia smell? Does my breath just smell like straight rubbing alcohol? I feel bad that these dead guys got blamed for MY alcohol breath but, at least, I won't be walking out of here with an underage drinking ticket.
Calming down and feeling relieved. I looked down on my shirt and see that my necktie, my very favorite Ralph Lauren necktie, had fallen out of my shirt at some point and had been dipped into some smelly smelly blood. Fuck! Of course I ruined my favorite necktie on a night I'm not even supposed to be working. I undo the knot and throw the tie into a biohazard bag. The rest of the removal was kind of a blur because I was laser focused thinking about that Butterfinger I left in the car. The alcohol plus all the blood smell I kind of made my stomach sour. My mouth starts to water thinking about that candy bar.
One of the officers helps me wheel the stretchers out to the van in the main area of the police station parking garage. I can see exhaust coming out of our van. It's on? Did we leave the van running? I open the back of the van to find Andy laying down in the center of the wooden roller board taking up the entire back of the van. The sound startles him and he quickly jumps up to a seated position and says, “I'm sorry man, guns really freak me out. I almost got shot…. I thought I was gonna pass out.”
I notice a yellow rapper sitting next to his right leg. He noticed that I noticed. “Oh yeah, I owe you a candy bar.” He says in a nonchalant manner.
All at once, my dislike for Andy hit me like a tidal wave. I ruined my favorite tie and this asshole ate my candy bar? Andy, sensing my disappointment and anger, didn't say another word and I imagine what it would have been like if that shot gun would have gone off.
My name is Grant and these are My Funeral Home Stories.
​
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--- Table of Contents ---
Spring 4984, 9 Kuromoth, Spring Equinox
“Archmage, I thought you had already gone…” Brom’s voice, beyond Her door. She didn’t move, didn’t bother to look towards the closed portal. Had it been months or years since he'd last come to sit with Her?
“I will be leaving presently…” Archmage Morndancer’s cold voice answered. She squeezed tighter into Her little ball in the dark corner. It didn’t matter that he would be gone. He left the tower often, but it didn’t stop Her punishment. Even as the season turned from winter to spring, She'd stayed locked in Her room. With no books and no company. Occasionally being taken out to give samples in a lab completely separate from that of Her treasures. Only their yowls and barks from down the hall offering any comfort.
“It’s an important day, isn’t it, Archmage? Perhaps Sellon will pass the test.” Ran’s voice. Did he sound nervous? Her head tilted, just a little, towards the door. The half-circle of light from Her window did very little to banish the darkness of the room. She hadn’t bothered to light the candles. What was the point?
Morndancer scoffed, “Doubtful. Ronni didn’t manage it. And just as his sister before him, Sellon will join the Mages Guild whether he passes or not.” Sellon and Ronni, Archmage Morndancer’s children. She'd heard of them from Brom and Ran. So they were Mages as well. Perhaps they would be the ones to come take Her blood and cut Her hair in future. It didn’t matter. Nothing had ever mattered.
“But a Wizard-Cleric of Saint Bede might…”
“Enough.” Morndancer interrupted Brom, “Bede is no god, he wasn't even a decent Mage, he was and is a villain. We would not have this responsibility to save the world if he and his lot hadn’t doomed it.”
“Of course, Archmage, yes.” nervous feet shuffled outside Her door.
“Even now, Shaloon is trying to locate the next storm.” Morndancer continued his chastisement, “They come more frequently and destroy greater swaths of land. If we continue to be as useless as the other Talons, there will be no world left to save. So rather than waste your time on prayers to usurper gods, you had best refocus and redouble your efforts while we are away. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Archmage,” Brom and Ran said in unison.
“Good. And be sure to return those to the library when you have finished with them.” the hiss of fabric on stone accompanied the Archmage's exit.
Her door handle jingled, and Her head came up a fraction, but, “Wait…” Brom’s whisper. Silence followed, and She dropped Her head again, pressing her closed eyes into Her knees. Minutes passed, or was it hours? Did it matter? Maybe She would crawl into Her bed and try to sleep. Time passed faster that way. Or maybe She would just stay here in Her little ball in the corner.
“He should be gone by now…” Her lock clicked, and the door creaked open, but She didn’t bother to look up, “Goldy? Maybe She’s sleeping…” Brom whispered.
“Damn, it’s dark in here. Red, can we get a light?” She didn’t answer Ran’s request. What was the point? They would find Her and they would take Her for samples. She didn’t have to help them do it. “Grab the candle from the table, Brom. My hands are full.”
She could feel the life of a tiny flame beyond Her door. Felt it draw closer and enter Her room before it flickered and died. “Oh, Goldy… please don’t…” the shuffling of feet moving carefully in the darkness came closer. She tried to pull in tighter, tucking Her head against Her chest and letting Her now shoulder-length hair fall forward to further hide Her face.
They crouched at either side of Her, Brom setting the useless candle down to Her left with a soft ‘tink’ of brass on stone. Something much heavier was placed on Her right, the familiar scents of hardbound leather, paper, and ink… “We brought you some books, Red…”
She lifted Her head, looking through the tangled strands of golden hair and seeing a pair of worried faces looming in the dark. “If you light up the room a bit, we can read,” Brom slowly pushed Her hair back, careful not to touch Her skin. As though She would burn him. She might have. If She could find the energy.
“You’re not supposed to...” Her voice crackled from lack of use, making Her whisper even more inaudible.
“What?” Ran leaned closer, but She didn’t repeat Herself, “It’s been months, Red. You’re not in trouble anymore.”
She blinked silently at him.
“Look, Goldy,” Brom shuffled forward, still in his crouch, “things can go back to normal now. The Archmage will be out for a few days. We can take you to play with the animals tomorrow.” She shifted Her blank stare to him. Brom waited for a moment, searching Her face for a familiar flicker of excitement. She didn’t give it to him. He sighed, “We’ll leave these with you then. You can read them when you’re ready.”
Brom made to stand, but She grabbed the hem of his sleeve, “Stay with me…” On the candle, the smallest of lights began to flicker to life. Brom sat down with a groan, and on Her other side, Ran plopped down even less gracefully.
He leaned his back against Her bed and picked the top book off the small pile they'd brought Her, “We can stay until lunch, Goldy.”
“But we still have a lot of work to do…”
It was enough. The candle burned brighter, and She shifted Her legs down, taking the book Ran passed to Her. Things would finally be returning to normal. As they always had been, and as they always would be.
***
Shon woke long before the kitchen servant would come to fetch him. Everything was the same, and yet nothing would ever be as it was before. Sitting up, he ran his fingers through his hair, only to realize that everything wasn't the same. The other two boys who'd reached maturity were also awake. It looked like Gaven hadn’t slept at all, his sandy hair tousled and his dark eyes bloodshot.
“This is it then… the last morning in the dorms?” Gaven whispered the useless question. Nan, the oldest by a month, nodded in silence. Shon didn’t bother with even that much, swinging his legs off the bed and kicking something. Another difference. A final gift from the Church. A leather pack for him to carry everything he owned.
Shon dressed in silence only broken by the shuffle of the other two joining him. After tying his boots, he started packing the bag. It was large enough to fit all of his clothes and even his seven journals, though the eighth made it a very tight fit.
“Should we make the beds?” Nan whispered. Again, Shon didn’t answer. Instead, he stripped the blanket and sheets from the mattress, folding them neatly and placing them with the pillow at the foot of the bed.
“Yeah… they'll have to strip them to wash anyway…” Gaven said, following Shon’s example.
They'd just finished when the door creaked open. Normally woken by the morning bells, Gaven and Nan both jumped, looking from the dark window to the door then at each other.
The servant girl who usually woke Shon looked in on them with some confusion, then hummed in understanding before holding the door open for them, “Come on then. There may be some leftover dessert you can have while we make breakfast…”
Shon doubted he could eat anything at the moment. His stomach worked itself in knots that put an uncomfortable pressure on his heart that in turn seemed as though it wanted to beat its way into his throat. The entire sensation made him feel a strange sort of nauseous. Nan and Gaven looked no better than he felt, and they both swallowed before exiting the room. Gaven took a moment to look back over his shoulder before shaking himself and setting his eyes forward. Nan seemed to rush from the room, too afraid to look back. Shon took one last look around before following, the door clicking closed behind them.
He let the other boys walk ahead of him and wondered what they were thinking. Gaven would be taking the test with him today, but Nan had been selected to join the Masons Guild and had opted to accept the offer right away rather than try for one of the divine orders first. Perhaps Nan was the smartest of them.
“We'll miss you…” the servant girl whispered so only Shon could hear, “It isn’t glamorous, but it’s honest work... if you want to join the Servants Guild…” the Servants Guild was a loose association of otherwise privately employed cleaners and cooks. It was the last choice for orphans, but also their most common destination. She'd meant the offer as a kindness, so Shon nodded in thanks, though nothing but the most desperate situation would ever see him join.
The head cook looked up as they entered the kitchen, nodding in understanding, “Couldn’t sleep?” he asked Nan and Gaven, who mumbled incoherently in response. To Shon, the cook smiled, offering only a silent nod.
The girl who'd reached maturity with them was already in the dining room, staring mournfully at a plate of hastily scrambled eggs and a few cookies from the night before.
“Hey Lara, couldn’t sleep anymore either?” Gaven asked with a strained smile. Shaking her head, she picked up her fork and tried to force down some of the breakfast. She'd been accepted into the Tailors Guild, but unlike Nan, had chosen to take the test with Shon and Gavin. Just in case.
The cook himself brought the boys their plates of eggs and cookies, and they ate in silence until the morning bells sounded. The three unused to being up early jumped at the sound, exchanging nervous looks. Their juniors and the priests would come flooding in soon, laughing and talking and enjoying another breakfast with friends and the closest thing they had to family. It would be the last time the four of them ate with the others in this room.
Shon didn’t know if he could take the bustle today, even if it was the last. Or maybe because it was. He stood, taking his mostly full plate and returning it to the kitchen. The cook looked from the untouched food to Shon and back again, then picked up a pair of cookies and held them out to him, “You might not be able to eat now, but you can save these for after.”
Shon took the gift, meeting the cook's eyes and nodding in silent thanks. The cook returned the nod and Shon left the kitchen without looking back. He slipped the cookies into one of the side pockets of his new pack as he made his way to the courtyard. He passed the bathroom, its wall lined with low-hanging sinks and a single long mirror. He'd practiced arching his eyebrows in that mirror...
Entering the courtyard, Shon hesitated, remembering his first early morning. When he couldn’t sleep for excitement at the mere possibility of training with a real adventurer. He'd wanted to learn to fight, but more than that, he'd wanted to learn how to train. After all, he would be doing a lot of that once he joined the Temple. It would be helpful to have a head start… Or, that's what he'd told himself back then.
Shon shut the door with a click of finality that rang in the still morning air. To his left were the classrooms where the city's children took lessons. Just thinking about his last lesson, with only those coming of age, still made him blush. To his right was the door to the chapel, where he'd sat with the other orphans through the weekly sermons. Shon respected the god of life and healing, but Soleil had never been his patron. Across from him was the clinic, where the Clerics of Soleil saw to the needs of the sick and injured. He'd only been sent there once, after breaking his arm trying to climb the tree in the courtyard.
Shon would have no need to pray to Soleil specifically, and the Temple kept their own clinic... if he passed. If he didn't... There was a chance he would see the clinic again, perhaps the chapel...
Shon stepped off the walkway surrounding the central tree, and a familiar voice sounded from its roots, “Feeling up to a few exercises?” Master Veon-Zih asked, rising from his cross-legged seat in one fluid motion. Shon stopped in their little clearing and nodded, letting his pack slide off his shoulder and flop heavily to the ground. “I take it there's nothing fragile in there then?” Veon-Zih asked with a chuckle.
The idea that a thirteen-year-old would have something valuable or fragile enough to break just by dropping the bag finally pulled Shon all the way out of his contemplations. He arched a skeptical eyebrow at his master.
“There, that’s more like it. You looked like a rather well-preserved zombie.” Veon-Zih took Shon by the shoulder, shaking him, “Not a thought in your head, or skip in your step.”
Shon shook his head, sinking into his horse stance to start his drills. He punched with his left fist first, and Veon-Zih took position just out of reach, so Shon’s knuckles barely brushed the fabric of his tunic. Shon held the position until Veon-Zih also threw his first punch. He aimed for Shon’s face, sending a wave of air and ki over his skin and nearly touching his nose. Shon didn’t flinch.
They worked through their punches in unison, nearly touching but never quite connecting. Shon worked in silence for a while then said, “Too many thoughts…”
“And none of them new, I’m sure,” Veon-Zih commented.
Shon nodded, “The same ones circle again and again. Even though I can’t do anything about them... yet.”
“Not until after the test.”
Shon had to swallow a sudden lump in his throat and nodded again, unable to speak even if he'd wanted to.
Veon-Zih moved on to the next strike, and Shon copied him. He'd lost count of the punches but followed his Master's lead. “I don’t suppose you want to talk about it?” Master Veon-Zih asked.
Shon shook his head but then sighed. Most people seemed to like thinking out loud, especially when troubled. He didn’t understand why, but his usual quiet contemplation wasn’t working, so maybe… “If I don’t pass…”
“I would think of all days, today would be the one to take a break!” Father Branston called from the chapel door. He began strolling towards them with a broad smile, “Do you think you’ll be done in time to join me?”
Was it time already? Shon glanced around, noticing Nan, Gaven, and Lara approaching from the living quarter, all looking pale, their lips drawn in tight unsmiling lines.
Veon-Zih hadn’t come up from his stance, so neither did Shon, but the Monk did laugh, “Keeping a routine can be soothing in times of great change.” he winked at Shon, “Even if it’s a positive change.”
Shon tried to smile at Veon-Zih’s apparent show of faith but wasn’t sure if he'd managed it. What if…?
“Well, I don’t want to rush you. Can I trust you to get Shon to the Chapel on time if I take the others now?” Father Branston laughed as though he'd said something particularly humourous, his great belly bouncing with mirth.
“We'll be there.” Master Veon-Zih assured Father Branston, and Shon nodded mutely, resuming his drills and trying not to watch the others leave. “We have plenty of time,” Veon-Zih whispered, “Take a few deep breaths. It's the end of your childhood, not your life.”
They moved from drills to kata. Master Veon-Zih stayed in front of Shon, moving with him and matching his routine strikes with the appropriate counters. “You were saying?” it had been awhile since Shon had tried to speak, though his head continued to spin with the half-formed thoughts.
“I don’t want to think about not passing,” Shon said, kicking high and hitting Veon-Zih’s waiting arm.
“Do you believe such thoughts will jinx you?”
Shon dropped his kick and punched as the kata dictated. Veon-Zih was right; working through their regular routines did seem to help calm his pounding heart. “I don’t know… Maybe? It’s stupid, though. Whether I pass or not was decided when I was born. It won’t change just because I think about it.”
“Emotions are rarely logical.” Veon-Zih smacked Shon’s punch aside at the last moment, and Shon moved smoothly from that strike to the next, “It’s normal to be nervous. One of your peers is just as nervous, and he already knows where he’s going.”
“They all do…” Shon mumbled, snap kicking straight in front of him, confident in his Master’s speed to dodge and counter.
Veon-Zih did indeed dodge, but instead of the usual counter he hooked Shon’s foot with his own and tried to pull him off balance. Shon only stumbled for a moment, shifting his form to a different kata and counter, his body moving before his mind could catch up. Veon-Zih spoke as they continued the different form without finishing the first, prompting, “Even those taking the test have other plans, just in case?”
“Lara was accepted by the Tailors, and Gaven is going to enlist in the guard…” They had sped up the pace, and Shon needed to concentrate, now on edge in case Master Veon-Zih decided to shift the practice again. A few more strikes in, the Monk dropped below Shon’s punch and swung at his ribs, forcing Shon to block. Shon switched the kata to his most recent on instinct, using the block to redirect the punch rather than stop it as the original kata would have dictated.
Veon-Zih smiled, his eyes twinkling at the move as he picked up the pace even further, “Both of those are honest jobs and noble callings.” Shon could only grunt in response, now moving too fast for him to think of anything but the exercise. Veon-Zih continued, “The enlisted make up the bulk of Hengist’s armies, and their loyalty is admirable. The Tailors Guild not only clothes the populace but often creates beautiful works of art that serve to enhance the natural beauty of the human form.”
The Master hadn’t even broken a sweat, but Shon had to gasp out, “But I don’t-” before he was interrupted by another unexpected punch. He countered but then disengaged, breathing deep and slow, “What will I do? If I don’t pass? I thought about joining the enlisted too but…” but the idea of being so close, and yet so impossibly far from his failed dream, pained him in a way he couldn’t put into words.
When Shon didn’t continue, Veon-Zih asked, “Will you reconsider joining me then?”
Shon blinked at the Monk, his eyes going wide. He'd thought he'd lost his chance with the Monastery when he'd denied Veon-Zih for the Temple three years ago, “You mean you'll still take me?” he stammered out.
Veon-Zih closed the distance between them and placed a firm hand on Shon’s shoulder, “So long as you are an obedient and willing student, remember?”
Shon’s eyes burned and another lump rose in his throat, preventing him from speaking. He nodded, and Veon-Zih smiled, turning away from him so Shon could rub his eyes without the Monk seeing. He still wasn’t comfortable with the thought of failing, but he felt a little more at ease, knowing he wouldn’t be alone even if he did.
“Shall we go then?” Veon-Zih scooped up Shon’s pack and held it out to him, “Destiny awaits no man.”
***
The Grand Chapel was dedicated to all the gods of the kingdom, and though today it was closed to the public, the doors were still crowded with families from every walk of life. Merchants and craftsmen mingled excitedly with one another while their children nervously awaited the start of the test that would determine the trajectory of the rest of their lives. A smaller group of only two families stood apart from the throng. Dressed in fine clothes and protected by private guards, the nobles surveyed the commoners with a detached air as though above the gods themselves. The boy Shon often saw at the Temple was among them.
Shon stopped just outside the crowd, arching his neck to try and see the doors. His quiet dread had turned to jitters of nervousness as he and Master Veon-Zih walked through the city. He wasn’t sure if he'd wanted to run or stop moving altogether. Now that they were here, he tried to distract himself by studying the faces and movements of those gathered. Though if he tried to draw them now, the shaking of his hands would probably make the pictures impossible to decipher.
The differences between the nobles and commoners, in particular, caught his eye. One of the nobles, a man of middling years, wore long robes with a high collar buttoned tight to his neck and looked as if he would rather be anywhere but here. Shon had just finished scanning up the man’s robes when their eyes met. A shiver, entirely unrelated to the general anxiety of the test, ran down his spine.
The noble’s eyes went wide, and he started for Shon, the edge of the crowd giving way for him like the sea before a ship. “You…” his voice was breathy, and he reached out. Shon stepped back and ran into Master Veon-Zih, “They are back, truly?” the strange man asked, his eyes fixed on Shon who could only stare in bewilderment.
“My good lord Morndancer!” Father Branston’s joy-filled greeting sounded from the side, “So your youngest has come of age has he?” the Abbot seemed to snap the noble from his focus, and he turned away from Shon as Branston made his way through the crowd, Lara and Gaven close behind.
“Yes, Abbot.” Morndancer surveyed the Cleric with what Shon could only describe as contempt, though the look hardly wiped the wide smile from Branston’s face, “Will we be starting soon? Sellon and I have business with the Mages Guild.”
“Though if young Sellon should find himself capable…” Branston started, but the noble snorted. “Ah well, to each their own.” Branston finished, turning away from Morndancer to address his young charges.
From a pouch on his belt, Father Branston pulled forth three small books that shouldn’t have been able to fit in the little bag, “I present to you, your papers.” He fanned the books out before him, and each of them took the one closest to them. They were bound in leather with the seal of the Kingdom of Daanlin embossed on the cover. The knight on the kingdom seal rode a horse and held a shield with the seal of Clearhelm on it, three tall pine trees in front of a snow-capped mountain.
Their papers were proof of their citizenship and would serve as a record of their lives and accomplishments. Master Veon-Zih had shown Shon his own papers months before. It held a record of every border he had ever crossed and every teleport he had ever taken, as well as proof of all of his adventures and every job performed for any of the kingdom’s organizations. Veon-Zih’s papers were a veritable tome compared to Shon’s meager notebook. Opening it to the first page, Shon saw his name followed by his presumed place and date of birth. It detailed that he had been raised in the Church in Smildna and when he had come of age. At the bottom was a place labeled but left blank for the date and results of today’s test…
Branston was still speaking to them, but Shon only partly registered the words, “You should keep your papers on you whenever possible. You will need them to reenter the city any time you leave…”
Veon-Zih placed a hand on Shon’s shoulder, and he nearly jumped out of his boots in surprise. Leaning down, the Monk whispered in his ear, “Soon this book will be full of your adventures and accomplishments. Regardless of what happens today.”
“Abbot,” Morndancer interjected as Father Branston finished his explanation, “the test? Some of us have places to be.”
“Yes, yes, patience is a virtue, my dear Lord Morndancer. The sun will rise no faster with you tapping your foot at its pace.” he lowered his voice and continued to address the anxious children, “I am so very proud of all of you. Know that no matter what is discovered today, the light of Soleil will always shine with joy at what you have and will accomplish in your lives.” Shon wondered if any of the adults realized that their constant efforts to comfort their nerves seemed to be having the opposite effect. Shon’s palms were sweating as he closed his papers, and he had to wipe them on his pants to try and distract himself from his pounding heart.
“Follow me,” Branston turned away, walking through the middle of the crowd that had suddenly grown hush at his movement towards the door. Veon-Zih gave Shon one last pat, then slipped Shon’s pack from his back and tossed it over his own shoulder. Letting his student know without words that he would be waiting for Shon to return, one way or another.
Shon could feel the eyes of the noble Morndancer boring into him as he followed Father Branston through the throng towards the Grand Chapel. What was that man's problem? Who was back? Shon was too distracted by the test to dwell on it, but the man had made his skin crawl, and having him at his back wasn’t helping his nerves.
Father Branston turned to address the crowd as the doors began to swing open, “The testers will enter alone and present their papers to the clerks by the door. Families and friends may wait outside until the test is complete.” Nervous adolescents made their way forward, careful not to jostle one another, many accepting last-minute hugs and well wishes from their families.
Shon thought he remembered the Grand Chapel well from his visit almost six years ago, but was struck again by the beauty of its art. The masterwork statues and carvings were outshone only by the stained glass dome that painted the round floor in bright light of every color he could imagine.
Of the ten gods, eight representatives stood opposite the doors, waiting quietly while the testers handed their papers to the clerks and shuffled nervously in the middle of the majestic holy site. Neither the Temples of Horsa nor Saint Giorgos were present. Their absence wasn’t surprising. The Temple of Saint Giorgos only took those of noble birth and would give their tests separately, and the Temple of Horsa was openly shunned in Clearhelm, its only branch located in the capital city of Tarorn.
Shon handed one of three clerks his papers. She took them with only a glance, hastily scribbling Shon’s name on a long list before handing the book to one of the others who wrote the date in the spot allocated. By the time all the testers had filtered in, there were about twenty young boys and girls huddled in the center of the room.
The Cleric of Hengist, in robes of white and blue, stepped forward to address them. “You are gathered here today in the hopes of being chosen to serve. To serve the province, the kingdom, and most importantly, the gods. But before the gods can choose you to act as their divine hands and voice, you must train and study hard their tenants and virtues. And before even that, your body must be able to hold and direct their power. For a feather that cannot hold ink will never be a quill. This is not a test of your worth but of your natural, innate ability.”
As he spoke, two other Clerics, Father Branston of Soleil and a female in the colors of Lune, stepped forward, each holding something round covered with a dark cloth. The Cleric of Hengist continued, “Very few are born with the capacity to touch the divine, there is no shame in failing.” the Clerics of Soleil and Lune removed the protective coverings and everyone had to shield their eyes from the brilliant light that flared in Father Branston’s hand.
Squinting as his eyes adjusted, Shon could just make out an orb glowing in a bowl in the Abbot’s hands. The Cleric of Lune held a similar sphere, though it appeared dead beside the brilliance of the other. “When we call your name, you will touch the empty vessel,” the Cleric of Hengist gestured towards the unlit stone, “and then you will touch the vessel filled with divine magic,” with his other hand, he gestured towards the light. “Do not hold the stone for longer than a moment. If your body is unable to channel the magic it could do serious harm,” he warned.
“Trase,” one of the clerks called from the door, reading off the list they'd compiled. A tall boy stepped forward on shaking feet. He approached the Clerics, who nodded solemnly, all encouraging smiles gone. Reaching out, he touched the unlit orb, then with a deep breath, reached for the glowing vessel.
Nothing happened. Trase pulled his hands back, and Branston whispered -though all could hear in the stillness of the room- “It’s alright lad, you may go…”
“Anhala,” the clerk called, and a girl jumped before rushing forward to try.
The first six failed before a girl named Gena reached shaking hands to the orbs. As her fingers brushed the light vessel, the dead sphere in her other hand began to glow. She gasped, holding tight to both globes, now both shining brightly.
“Congratulations, my dear, you may choose an order…” the Cleric of Hengist gestured to the altars around the Chapel. Gena pulled her hands back slowly, and the unlit stone died once again. Shon watched as she walked to the altar of Soleil to await the end of the test before beginning her life as an adept in training at the Church.
“Shaclin Ebonheart,” the noble boy Shon often saw at the Temple stepped forward, rubbing his hands on his pants before reaching for the orbs. Nothing. He held on, and Father Branston gently removed the boy’s fingers from the light orb. Shaclin pulled away sharply, clutching his hand to his chest and whimpering. His skin had grown red and blistered.
“I’m sorry…” the Cleric of Hengist whispered.
Shaclin turned away without a word and strode for the door, still clutching his burned hand, silent tears staining his cheeks.
I won’t cry… I won’t… “Shon,” Shon closed his eyes, imagining himself in the Temple chapel with its calm silence and soothing scent of incense. He could almost smell it when he opened his eyes and moved forward.
Time slowed down… it took hours to reach the Clerics. Days to raise his hand to touch the dark orb. Now that he was closer he saw that they were actually crystals, tumbled into perfectly smooth spheres. His palm covered the dead stone, and it felt cool, as though it had just been dug from the ground by adventurous children. He reached for the stone bathed in light, feeling the warmth radiate off it before he even made contact. It wasn’t nearly hot enough to burn, and yet Shaclin’s hand had shown blisters.
Shon touched the stone. The warmth filled his fingers and crawled up his arm. It flooded his body like a vessel being filled with water before flowing out his other arm and down his hand. The dead stone came to life, its coolness replaced by the warmth of the divine magic, using him as its conduit connecting the two.
“Congratulations, son, you may choose an order…”
Time sped back up, and Shon let his hands slide off the stones. “Congratulations,” Father Branston echoed, nodding towards the altar of Hengist, “The rest is up to you.”
Only two others passed the test. A girl with long auburn hair and green eyes had joined the Temple with Shon, and a boy had gone to the Church of Saint Bjarki. They stood by their respective altars as the last of the failed testers left the Chapel. Gaven and Lara managed strained smiles at Shon as they left. He attempted to return them but wasn't sure if he'd managed it. The eight Clerics all breathed sighs of relief as the last left, and Branston and the Cleric of Lune returned the covers over the stones. Though still lit by the light through the colored dome, the Chapel seemed so much darker without the divine light to fill it.
“Four this year! An entire fifth!” the Druid of Cathbad exclaimed, her brown and green robes rustling as she danced in place.
“Yes, quite remarkable. Twice the average.” the Cleric of Saint Bede agreed. Though he resisted dancing for joy.
The Cleric of Hengist was also smiling broadly, though when he spoke, it was to the kids, “You may spend the afternoon with your families. Report to your chosen order before sixth bell.”
The girl who also joined the Temple of Hengist, Daisy, gave Shon a warm smile and hurried with the others to retrieve her papers. Now marked with their status as divine conduits. Shon walked behind them, his nervousness replaced with excited anticipation. He felt somehow full and empty all at once. With one door open, another had closed...
Shon stepped into the morning light to find the crowd had cleared. Only the three families of his fellows remained, hugging and kissing their children in joy. “We shall have a feast fit for the King!” Daisy’s father exclaimed, lifting her into the air as if she were no more than five. Shon’s stomach growled.
“Hungry?” Veon-Zih asked, stepping out from beside the door and presenting Shon with his pack. Shon felt his cheeks go red, and Veon-Zih laughed, rubbing his own belly, “I could use some lunch myself.”
Hastily Shon dropped his pack and rifled through the outside pockets, finding the cookies in the last one left to check. They were cracked and crumbled in some places, but he held one out to Veon-Zih regardless.
The Monk took it with a bow, “I am trying to resist being disappointed.” he confessed as Shon eagerly shoved his own broken cookie in his mouth.
He nearly choked, and Veon-Zih patted his back hard, not helping. Shon managed to swallow, then stammered, “Master, I…”
Veon-Zih interrupted with a laugh loud enough to fill the empty entryway, “Just promise me you won’t let your new studies dull your old. I plan on testing you with each visit.”
"Visit?" Something Shon couldn’t name filled his chest with warmth reminiscent of the divine light, "Test? You..." He thought he might burst with barely contained hope. No one could be so blessed... "You'll still train me?" Shon asked.
“I happen to be good friends with one of your future teachers at Hamerfoss.” Veon-Zih stated for the first time, “I’m sure he'll welcome my visits. If you'll have me…”
Shon didn’t have words for an answer. Instead, he lunged forward, wrapping Veon-Zih in the first and only hug he could remember giving anyone.
--- Table of Contents ---
All comments and communication are welcome and wanted.

Tagged Photos
100% authentic.

Item	Condition	Price
Balenciaga Paisley Wheel Belt Pouch - Navy & Black	Used, slight wear shown on one of the black zipper strings	$280 Shipped CONUS

Happy Sunday, Knife Swap!
For sale today are 5 knives I shipwrecked! Now with prices dropped by at least 10% or $25 as per rules. I also did the entropic anodizing (also known as flame anodized) of the pm2 I have listed. The last 3 listed are not modified.
Fresh timestamp of all 9 knives I currently have for sale
Two CRKT Pilars Copper Shipwrecks - two knives beautifully designed by the brilliant Jesper Voxnaes. The left one has a more standard shipwreck style, right one was left in about 5 times as long and got a lot darker because of it. I want to note that both of them have Loctite on the 2 body screws. I was frustrated when taking them apart to do the shipwreck that they were Loctited in the first place from the factory, but when I put them back together I got why. Dunno why but they would not stay put otherwise. Left is nicely centered but the right blade very slightly leans to the show side, doesn’t seem to scrape the copper though. Neither carried or cut. Both have original CRKT boxes. SV $120 now SV $95 each
Spyderco Paramilitary 2 Copper Shipwreck - very good centering, has a copper plug in place of the lanyard hole for those who are not into lanyards. Satin finish blade in very good condition. I am the second owner so I cannot say for sure there were no cuts but as you can see in the video I can’t find any signs of usage. Nice dark blue shipwreck with small bits of shiny copper coming through. Handsome knife no doubt. No box on this one. SV 240 now SV $215
Spyderco Smock Brass Shipwreck - I am the second owner and wanted to experiment with this one. These brass scales were laser engraved from DNALasering in a floral pattern. There was some type of ink highlighting the engraving but that came off when using ammonia to get this patina. The scroll-work, leaves, and vines still show through the corrosion. Makes me think of plants growing from an abandoned building. Second detent is removed and long gone RIP. From the person I bought it from: “This knife was carried quite a bit and shows some wear on the blade. It was resharpened on a workshop precision Elite, but I can't remember to what angle.” Well they did a fantastic job sharpening it because I was about to say “no cut” until I consulted my notes. They made it look like new on that Worksharp! I have a beat up Smock box I can send it in but it doesn’t have the papers sorry. SV 210 now SV $185
Spyderco Shaman Copper Shipwreck - Absolute tank of a knife. It was already big and heavy and the copper scales add another 3 ounces. Big knife that is great for people with big hands tired of feeling like they are holding a toothpick when they need to slice and dice. One of my first shipwrecks and I’d love to see it go to a good home. Solid centering. Never been carried or cut with. Has original box and original Spydie Shaman leaflet. SV 385 now SV $360
Spyderco Paramilitary 2 Entropic Anodized Titanium - At least second owner. Wanted to point out a couple smudges on the blade that can be seen in the video but no scratches. I heated the titanium scales up with a torch until they were glowing hot and then quenched them in ferric chloride, giving them an amazing and unique smoke-like pattern. Beautiful blend of blue and golden brown. Drops shut beautifully and centering looks spot on in the middle to me. Has box n docs. SV 255 now SV $230
TwoSun Titanium Sidewinder - I did not do the entropic anodizing on this one, I believe it came from the factory that way. Second owner. It was a bit stiff when I got it so I opened it up and cleaned it really well and lubed with KPL (all knives I have disassembled including shipwrecks are cleaned with isopropyl alcohol and then lubed with KPL) Really cool knife! Centering leans very slightly to the show side. SV 85 now SV $75
Spyderco Native Chief St. Nick’s Exclusive - Picked this up on the swap, second owner. Deep crimson scales from St. Nick’s Knives compliment the black DLC coated blade, sweet color scheme. The long thin blade does not appear to have any scratches at all and the scales are very clean too. Pocket clip shows a little wear so I believe this was carried. Reminds me a bit of a stiletto in essence. Buy this knife and pretend you are Alex from A Clockwork Orange today! No box, comes in a sweet black pouch though. Has not been disassembled by me (nor previous owner I don’t think). SV 195 now SV $175
WE Blitz in blue and black - Second owner and there are a few smudges on black cerakote part of the blade. From the person I bought it from, “Super slick, awesome knife for an EDC, with an overall length of 7.875”, blade length of 3.375”. The handle scales are textured G10 with a super grippy milling pattern and two tone finish, blade is VG10 with a cerakote finish on the main bevel and spine.” I’d call it a user in good shape. Drops shut with a little bit of wiggling. Comes in a Kizer zipper pouch (box was lost I guess, came to me this way) with the 2 WE stickers, WE cloth, and original WE leaflet. Has not been disassembled by me. SV 85 now SV $75
Preferred payment method is PayPal “Friends and Family” with no notes please! For those new here, “SV” means “Sale Value” and is cost including shipping (seller covers shipping costs).
I am open to chats about custom modifications, here are some (instagram) examples of etchings of octopuses, turtles and rays, and more on the shipwrecks I have done.
A little bit about my work, thought I would save this for last since most people just want to see the listings and not read a novel. When doing a shipwreck I try to leave some spots of the metal exposed because I think it looks cool when there are flakes shining through all the beautiful chaotic patterns of forced patina. Each piece is sprayed twice with polyurethane clearcoat to preserve the patina and metal, it also gives the nice bonus of not making your hands smell like copper when you handle your knife (a lot of people seem to dislike the smell of copper). Should be a little something for everybody in here, lots of variations and each piece is one of a kind!

You all remember those duffel bags that came with the Fallout 76 Collector's Edition? It was worth the stink. Ive been using the canvas one for years. I use the nylon one once and the zipper deteriorated, the seams are coming apart, and it ripped.

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SlingTV B&O	6 Months Warranty	9.99$
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NBA League Pass	6 Months Warranty	7.5$
DirecTV Premier	6 Months Warranty	23.99$
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Paramount+ No Ad	6 Months Warranty	3.99$
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Disney Bundle	6 Months Warranty	9.99$
WWE Network	6 Months Warranty	4.99$
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Philo	3 Months Warranty	21.99$
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Stacktv	6 Months Warranty	7.5$
Flix Premier	6 Months Warranty	7.5$
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Spotify Premium upgrade	1 Year Warranty	21.99$
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IPTV	1 Months	11.99$
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IPTV	6 Months	35.99$
IPTV	1 Year	47.99$
IPTV Premium	1 Months	25.99$
IPTV Premium	3 Months	51.99$
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Hulu	0.5$	25 accounts minimum
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Netflix UHD	6 Months Warranty	10.99$
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Hulu no Ads	6 Months Warranty	4.99$
Hulu no Ads	1 Year Warranty	7.5$
Disney+	6 Months Warranty	4.99$
Disney+	1 Year Warranty	7.5$
HBO Max	6 Months Warranty	4.99$
HBO Max	1 Year Warranty	7.5$
Crunchyrol	6 Months Warranty	4.99$
Crunchyrol	1 Year Warranty	7.50$
SlingTV B&O	6 Months Warranty	9.99$
ESPN+	1 Year Warranty	9.99$
NBA League Pass	6 Months Warranty	7.5$
DirecTV Premier	6 Months Warranty	23.99$
FuboTV Premier	6 Months Warranty	9.99$
Paramount+ No Ad	6 Months Warranty	3.99$
Paramount+ No Ad	1 Year Warranty	5.99$
Disney Bundle	6 Months Warranty	9.99$
WWE Network	6 Months Warranty	4.99$
Peacock	1 Year Warranty	25.99$
Philo	3 Months Warranty	21.99$
Prime Video	6 Months Warranty	7.5$
Mubi	1 Year Warranty	6.99$
Stacktv	6 Months Warranty	7.5$
Flix Premier	6 Months Warranty	7.5$
NordVPN	6 Months Warranty	4.99$
NordVPN	1 Year Warranty	10.99$
IPVanish	6 Months Warranty	4.5$
IPVanish	1 Year Warranty	7.5$
Tunnelbear	6 months Warranty	6.99$
Spotify Premium upgrade	1 Year Warranty	21.99$
Pornhub Premium	3 months warranty	3.99$
Grammarrly	6 Months Warranty	11.99$
Duolingo	6 Months Warranty	2.99$
Duolingo	1 Year Warranty	5.99$
Scribd	6 Months Warranty	10.99$
Youtube Premium upgrade	1 Month Warranty	2.5$
Youtube Premium upgrade	1 Year Warranty	30$
Canva Pro upgrade	1 Year Warranty	29.99$
Bitdefender	3 Months Warranty	1.99$
Gamepass Ultimate	2 Months Warranty	3.99$

IPTV
Note: IPTV 30k+ channels IPTV Premium 100k + Channels with Movies and TV Shows from Netflix, HBO, Disney, Hulu, etc (You can request a 24h trial)
Channel list: https://rentry.org/pubsc
(You can request a 24h trial)

IPTV	1 Months	11.99$
IPTV	3 Months	23.99$
IPTV	6 Months	35.99$
IPTV	1 Year	47.99$
IPTV Premium	1 Months	25.99$
IPTV Premium	3 Months	51.99$
IPTV Premium	6 Months	72.99$
IPTV Premium	1 Year	103.99$

Bulk Accounts

Nordvpn	0.5$	20 accounts minimum
Ipvanish	0.5$	25 accounts minimum
Crunchyroll	0.5$	25 accounts minimum
Paramount+	0.5$	25 accounts minimum
Wwe	0.5$	25 accounts minimum
Hulu	0.5$	25 accounts minimum
Hbo	0.5$	25 accounts minimum
Netflix Premium	0.39$	45 accounts minimum
Netflix Standard	0.21$	30 accounts minimum
Netflix Basic	0.16$	60 accounts minimum

Welcome to Premium Accounts Shop

Tired of low quality services?
Our Shop Strives to offer only the best longest lasting accounts on the market! With over 2 years of great service, our rep and feedback speaks for itself. You won't regret shopping with us!
​
Proof (Vouches channel in Telegram group and feedback in shop): https://rentry.org/nukt8
​
Shop Link:: https://rentry.org/nukt8
​
Note: Works in every country and all accounts are private.
In case you have any troubles buying, finding what you need, or even if you would like to use other payment method, feel free to dm us or leave us a query or contact us on Discord
​
Our Products
​
Accounts

Netflix UHD	6 Months Warranty	10.99$
Netflix UHD	1 Year Warranty	17.99$
Hulu no Ads	6 Months Warranty	4.99$
Hulu no Ads	1 Year Warranty	7.5$
Disney+	6 Months Warranty	4.99$
Disney+	1 Year Warranty	7.5$
HBO Max	6 Months Warranty	4.99$
HBO Max	1 Year Warranty	7.5$
Crunchyrol	6 Months Warranty	4.99$
Crunchyrol	1 Year Warranty	7.50$
SlingTV B&O	6 Months Warranty	9.99$
ESPN+	1 Year Warranty	9.99$
NBA League Pass	6 Months Warranty	7.5$
DirecTV Premier	6 Months Warranty	23.99$
FuboTV Premier	6 Months Warranty	9.99$
Paramount+ No Ad	6 Months Warranty	3.99$
Paramount+ No Ad	1 Year Warranty	5.99$
Disney Bundle	6 Months Warranty	9.99$
WWE Network	6 Months Warranty	4.99$
Peacock	1 Year Warranty	25.99$
Philo	3 Months Warranty	21.99$
Prime Video	6 Months Warranty	7.5$
Mubi	1 Year Warranty	6.99$
Stacktv	6 Months Warranty	7.5$
Flix Premier	6 Months Warranty	7.5$
NordVPN	6 Months Warranty	4.99$
NordVPN	1 Year Warranty	10.99$
IPVanish	6 Months Warranty	4.5$
IPVanish	1 Year Warranty	7.5$
Tunnelbear	6 months Warranty	6.99$
Spotify Premium upgrade	1 Year Warranty	21.99$
Pornhub Premium	3 months warranty	3.99$
Grammarrly	6 Months Warranty	11.99$
Duolingo	6 Months Warranty	2.99$
Duolingo	1 Year Warranty	5.99$
Scribd	6 Months Warranty	10.99$
Youtube Premium upgrade	1 Month Warranty	2.5$
Youtube Premium upgrade	1 Year Warranty	30$
Canva Pro upgrade	1 Year Warranty	29.99$
Bitdefender	3 Months Warranty	1.99$
Gamepass Ultimate	2 Months Warranty	3.99$

IPTV
Note: IPTV 30k+ channels IPTV Premium 100k + Channels with Movies and TV Shows from Netflix, HBO, Disney, Hulu, etc (You can request a 24h trial)
Channel list: https://rentry.org/pubsc
(You can request a 24h trial)

IPTV	1 Months	11.99$
IPTV	3 Months	23.99$
IPTV	6 Months	35.99$
IPTV	1 Year	47.99$
IPTV Premium	1 Months	25.99$
IPTV Premium	3 Months	51.99$
IPTV Premium	6 Months	72.99$
IPTV Premium	1 Year	103.99$

Bulk Accounts

Nordvpn	0.5$	20 accounts minimum
Ipvanish	0.5$	25 accounts minimum
Crunchyroll	0.5$	25 accounts minimum
Paramount+	0.5$	25 accounts minimum
Wwe	0.5$	25 accounts minimum
Hulu	0.5$	25 accounts minimum
Hbo	0.5$	25 accounts minimum
Netflix Premium	0.39$	45 accounts minimum
Netflix Standard	0.21$	30 accounts minimum
Netflix Basic	0.16$	60 accounts minimum

Welcome to Premium Accounts Shop

Tired of low quality services?
Our Shop Strives to offer only the best longest lasting accounts on the market! With over 2 years of great service, our rep and feedback speaks for itself. You won't regret shopping with us!
​
Proof (Vouches channel in Telegram group and feedback in shop): https://rentry.org/nukt8
​
Shop Link:: https://rentry.org/nukt8
​
Note: Works in every country and all accounts are private.
In case you have any troubles buying, finding what you need, or even if you would like to use other payment method, feel free to dm us or leave us a query or contact us on Discord
​
Our Products
​
Accounts

Netflix UHD	6 Months Warranty	10.99$
Netflix UHD	1 Year Warranty	17.99$
Hulu no Ads	6 Months Warranty	4.99$
Hulu no Ads	1 Year Warranty	7.5$
Disney+	6 Months Warranty	4.99$
Disney+	1 Year Warranty	7.5$
HBO Max	6 Months Warranty	4.99$
HBO Max	1 Year Warranty	7.5$
Crunchyrol	6 Months Warranty	4.99$
Crunchyrol	1 Year Warranty	7.50$
SlingTV B&O	6 Months Warranty	9.99$
ESPN+	1 Year Warranty	9.99$
NBA League Pass	6 Months Warranty	7.5$
DirecTV Premier	6 Months Warranty	23.99$
FuboTV Premier	6 Months Warranty	9.99$
Paramount+ No Ad	6 Months Warranty	3.99$
Paramount+ No Ad	1 Year Warranty	5.99$
Disney Bundle	6 Months Warranty	9.99$
WWE Network	6 Months Warranty	4.99$
Peacock	1 Year Warranty	25.99$
Philo	3 Months Warranty	21.99$
Prime Video	6 Months Warranty	7.5$
Mubi	1 Year Warranty	6.99$
Stacktv	6 Months Warranty	7.5$
Flix Premier	6 Months Warranty	7.5$
NordVPN	6 Months Warranty	4.99$
NordVPN	1 Year Warranty	10.99$
IPVanish	6 Months Warranty	4.5$
IPVanish	1 Year Warranty	7.5$
Tunnelbear	6 months Warranty	6.99$
Spotify Premium upgrade	1 Year Warranty	21.99$
Pornhub Premium	3 months warranty	3.99$
Grammarrly	6 Months Warranty	11.99$
Duolingo	6 Months Warranty	2.99$
Duolingo	1 Year Warranty	5.99$
Scribd	6 Months Warranty	10.99$
Youtube Premium upgrade	1 Month Warranty	2.5$
Youtube Premium upgrade	1 Year Warranty	30$
Canva Pro upgrade	1 Year Warranty	29.99$
Bitdefender	3 Months Warranty	1.99$
Gamepass Ultimate	2 Months Warranty	3.99$

IPTV
Note: IPTV 30k+ channels IPTV Premium 100k + Channels with Movies and TV Shows from Netflix, HBO, Disney, Hulu, etc (You can request a 24h trial)
Channel list: https://rentry.org/pubsc
(You can request a 24h trial)

IPTV	1 Months	11.99$
IPTV	3 Months	23.99$
IPTV	6 Months	35.99$
IPTV	1 Year	47.99$
IPTV Premium	1 Months	25.99$
IPTV Premium	3 Months	51.99$
IPTV Premium	6 Months	72.99$
IPTV Premium	1 Year	103.99$

Bulk Accounts

Nordvpn	0.5$	20 accounts minimum
Ipvanish	0.5$	25 accounts minimum
Crunchyroll	0.5$	25 accounts minimum
Paramount+	0.5$	25 accounts minimum
Wwe	0.5$	25 accounts minimum
Hulu	0.5$	25 accounts minimum
Hbo	0.5$	25 accounts minimum
Netflix Premium	0.39$	45 accounts minimum
Netflix Standard	0.21$	30 accounts minimum
Netflix Basic	0.16$	60 accounts minimum

Welcome to Premium Accounts Shop

Tired of low quality services?
Our Shop Strives to offer only the best longest lasting accounts on the market! With over 2 years of great service, our rep and feedback speaks for itself. You won't regret shopping with us!
​
Proof (Vouches channel in Telegram group and feedback in shop): https://rentry.org/nukt8
​
Shop Link:: https://rentry.org/nukt8
​
Note: Works in every country and all accounts are private.
In case you have any troubles buying, finding what you need, or even if you would like to use other payment method, feel free to dm us or leave us a query or contact us on Discord
​
Our Products
​
Accounts

Netflix UHD	6 Months Warranty	10.99$
Netflix UHD	1 Year Warranty	17.99$
Hulu no Ads	6 Months Warranty	4.99$
Hulu no Ads	1 Year Warranty	7.5$
Disney+	6 Months Warranty	4.99$
Disney+	1 Year Warranty	7.5$
HBO Max	6 Months Warranty	4.99$
HBO Max	1 Year Warranty	7.5$
Crunchyrol	6 Months Warranty	4.99$
Crunchyrol	1 Year Warranty	7.50$
SlingTV B&O	6 Months Warranty	9.99$
ESPN+	1 Year Warranty	9.99$
NBA League Pass	6 Months Warranty	7.5$
DirecTV Premier	6 Months Warranty	23.99$
FuboTV Premier	6 Months Warranty	9.99$
Paramount+ No Ad	6 Months Warranty	3.99$
Paramount+ No Ad	1 Year Warranty	5.99$
Disney Bundle	6 Months Warranty	9.99$
WWE Network	6 Months Warranty	4.99$
Peacock	1 Year Warranty	25.99$
Philo	3 Months Warranty	21.99$
Prime Video	6 Months Warranty	7.5$
Mubi	1 Year Warranty	6.99$
Stacktv	6 Months Warranty	7.5$
Flix Premier	6 Months Warranty	7.5$
NordVPN	6 Months Warranty	4.99$
NordVPN	1 Year Warranty	10.99$
IPVanish	6 Months Warranty	4.5$
IPVanish	1 Year Warranty	7.5$
Tunnelbear	6 months Warranty	6.99$
Spotify Premium upgrade	1 Year Warranty	21.99$
Pornhub Premium	3 months warranty	3.99$
Grammarrly	6 Months Warranty	11.99$
Duolingo	6 Months Warranty	2.99$
Duolingo	1 Year Warranty	5.99$
Scribd	6 Months Warranty	10.99$
Youtube Premium upgrade	1 Month Warranty	2.5$
Youtube Premium upgrade	1 Year Warranty	30$
Canva Pro upgrade	1 Year Warranty	29.99$
Bitdefender	3 Months Warranty	1.99$
Gamepass Ultimate	2 Months Warranty	3.99$

IPTV
Note: IPTV 30k+ channels IPTV Premium 100k + Channels with Movies and TV Shows from Netflix, HBO, Disney, Hulu, etc (You can request a 24h trial)
Channel list: https://rentry.org/pubsc
(You can request a 24h trial)

IPTV	1 Months	11.99$
IPTV	3 Months	23.99$
IPTV	6 Months	35.99$
IPTV	1 Year	47.99$
IPTV Premium	1 Months	25.99$
IPTV Premium	3 Months	51.99$
IPTV Premium	6 Months	72.99$
IPTV Premium	1 Year	103.99$

Bulk Accounts

Nordvpn	0.5$	20 accounts minimum
Ipvanish	0.5$	25 accounts minimum
Crunchyroll	0.5$	25 accounts minimum
Paramount+	0.5$	25 accounts minimum
Wwe	0.5$	25 accounts minimum
Hulu	0.5$	25 accounts minimum
Hbo	0.5$	25 accounts minimum
Netflix Premium	0.39$	45 accounts minimum
Netflix Standard	0.21$	30 accounts minimum
Netflix Basic	0.16$	60 accounts minimum

Welcome to Premium Accounts Shop

Tired of low quality services?
Our Shop Strives to offer only the best longest lasting accounts on the market! With over 2 years of great service, our rep and feedback speaks for itself. You won't regret shopping with us!
​
Proof (Vouches channel in Telegram group and feedback in shop): https://rentry.org/nukt8
​
Shop Link:: https://rentry.org/nukt8
​
Note: Works in every country and all accounts are private.
In case you have any troubles buying, finding what you need, or even if you would like to use other payment method, feel free to dm us or leave us a query or contact us on Discord
​
Our Products
​
Accounts

Netflix UHD	6 Months Warranty	10.99$
Netflix UHD	1 Year Warranty	17.99$
Hulu no Ads	6 Months Warranty	4.99$
Hulu no Ads	1 Year Warranty	7.5$
Disney+	6 Months Warranty	4.99$
Disney+	1 Year Warranty	7.5$
HBO Max	6 Months Warranty	4.99$
HBO Max	1 Year Warranty	7.5$
Crunchyrol	6 Months Warranty	4.99$
Crunchyrol	1 Year Warranty	7.50$
SlingTV B&O	6 Months Warranty	9.99$
ESPN+	1 Year Warranty	9.99$
NBA League Pass	6 Months Warranty	7.5$
DirecTV Premier	6 Months Warranty	23.99$
FuboTV Premier	6 Months Warranty	9.99$
Paramount+ No Ad	6 Months Warranty	3.99$
Paramount+ No Ad	1 Year Warranty	5.99$
Disney Bundle	6 Months Warranty	9.99$
WWE Network	6 Months Warranty	4.99$
Peacock	1 Year Warranty	25.99$
Philo	3 Months Warranty	21.99$
Prime Video	6 Months Warranty	7.5$
Mubi	1 Year Warranty	6.99$
Stacktv	6 Months Warranty	7.5$
Flix Premier	6 Months Warranty	7.5$
NordVPN	6 Months Warranty	4.99$
NordVPN	1 Year Warranty	10.99$
IPVanish	6 Months Warranty	4.5$
IPVanish	1 Year Warranty	7.5$
Tunnelbear	6 months Warranty	6.99$
Spotify Premium upgrade	1 Year Warranty	21.99$
Pornhub Premium	3 months warranty	3.99$
Grammarrly	6 Months Warranty	11.99$
Duolingo	6 Months Warranty	2.99$
Duolingo	1 Year Warranty	5.99$
Scribd	6 Months Warranty	10.99$
Youtube Premium upgrade	1 Month Warranty	2.5$
Youtube Premium upgrade	1 Year Warranty	30$
Canva Pro upgrade	1 Year Warranty	29.99$
Bitdefender	3 Months Warranty	1.99$
Gamepass Ultimate	2 Months Warranty	3.99$

IPTV
Note: IPTV 30k+ channels IPTV Premium 100k + Channels with Movies and TV Shows from Netflix, HBO, Disney, Hulu, etc (You can request a 24h trial)
Channel list: https://rentry.org/pubsc
(You can request a 24h trial)

IPTV	1 Months	11.99$
IPTV	3 Months	23.99$
IPTV	6 Months	35.99$
IPTV	1 Year	47.99$
IPTV Premium	1 Months	25.99$
IPTV Premium	3 Months	51.99$
IPTV Premium	6 Months	72.99$
IPTV Premium	1 Year	103.99$

Bulk Accounts

Nordvpn	0.5$	20 accounts minimum
Ipvanish	0.5$	25 accounts minimum
Crunchyroll	0.5$	25 accounts minimum
Paramount+	0.5$	25 accounts minimum
Wwe	0.5$	25 accounts minimum
Hulu	0.5$	25 accounts minimum
Hbo	0.5$	25 accounts minimum
Netflix Premium	0.39$	45 accounts minimum
Netflix Standard	0.21$	30 accounts minimum
Netflix Basic	0.16$	60 accounts minimum

Welcome to Premium Accounts Shop

Tired of low quality services?
Our Shop Strives to offer only the best longest lasting accounts on the market! With over 2 years of great service, our rep and feedback speaks for itself. You won't regret shopping with us!
​
Proof (Vouches channel in Telegram group and feedback in shop): https://rentry.org/nukt8
​
Shop Link:: https://rentry.org/nukt8
​
Note: Works in every country and all accounts are private.
In case you have any troubles buying, finding what you need, or even if you would like to use other payment method, feel free to dm us or leave us a query or contact us on Discord
​
Our Products
​
Accounts

Netflix UHD	6 Months Warranty	10.99$
Netflix UHD	1 Year Warranty	17.99$
Hulu no Ads	6 Months Warranty	4.99$
Hulu no Ads	1 Year Warranty	7.5$
Disney+	6 Months Warranty	4.99$
Disney+	1 Year Warranty	7.5$
HBO Max	6 Months Warranty	4.99$
HBO Max	1 Year Warranty	7.5$
Crunchyrol	6 Months Warranty	4.99$
Crunchyrol	1 Year Warranty	7.50$
SlingTV B&O	6 Months Warranty	9.99$
ESPN+	1 Year Warranty	9.99$
NBA League Pass	6 Months Warranty	7.5$
DirecTV Premier	6 Months Warranty	23.99$
FuboTV Premier	6 Months Warranty	9.99$
Paramount+ No Ad	6 Months Warranty	3.99$
Paramount+ No Ad	1 Year Warranty	5.99$
Disney Bundle	6 Months Warranty	9.99$
WWE Network	6 Months Warranty	4.99$
Peacock	1 Year Warranty	25.99$
Philo	3 Months Warranty	21.99$
Prime Video	6 Months Warranty	7.5$
Mubi	1 Year Warranty	6.99$
Stacktv	6 Months Warranty	7.5$
Flix Premier	6 Months Warranty	7.5$
NordVPN	6 Months Warranty	4.99$
NordVPN	1 Year Warranty	10.99$
IPVanish	6 Months Warranty	4.5$
IPVanish	1 Year Warranty	7.5$
Tunnelbear	6 months Warranty	6.99$
Spotify Premium upgrade	1 Year Warranty	21.99$
Pornhub Premium	3 months warranty	3.99$
Grammarrly	6 Months Warranty	11.99$
Duolingo	6 Months Warranty	2.99$
Duolingo	1 Year Warranty	5.99$
Scribd	6 Months Warranty	10.99$
Youtube Premium upgrade	1 Month Warranty	2.5$
Youtube Premium upgrade	1 Year Warranty	30$
Canva Pro upgrade	1 Year Warranty	29.99$
Bitdefender	3 Months Warranty	1.99$
Gamepass Ultimate	2 Months Warranty	3.99$

IPTV
Note: IPTV 30k+ channels IPTV Premium 100k + Channels with Movies and TV Shows from Netflix, HBO, Disney, Hulu, etc (You can request a 24h trial)
Channel list: https://rentry.org/pubsc
(You can request a 24h trial)

IPTV	1 Months	11.99$
IPTV	3 Months	23.99$
IPTV	6 Months	35.99$
IPTV	1 Year	47.99$
IPTV Premium	1 Months	25.99$
IPTV Premium	3 Months	51.99$
IPTV Premium	6 Months	72.99$
IPTV Premium	1 Year	103.99$

Bulk Accounts

Nordvpn	0.5$	20 accounts minimum
Ipvanish	0.5$	25 accounts minimum
Crunchyroll	0.5$	25 accounts minimum
Paramount+	0.5$	25 accounts minimum
Wwe	0.5$	25 accounts minimum
Hulu	0.5$	25 accounts minimum
Hbo	0.5$	25 accounts minimum
Netflix Premium	0.39$	45 accounts minimum
Netflix Standard	0.21$	30 accounts minimum
Netflix Basic	0.16$	60 accounts minimum