You can find the earlier parts of thie story here:
Part 1
Part 2
* * *
After dinner, we prudently withdrew to a part of the palace where the sound of fireworks was muffled by the walls. I could tell many of the younger cousins were bored or antsy. The chaperones and governesses had been summoned back to help keep them in line. The grand hall we’d retired to was a bit drafty, but was large enough for the mob of family and attendants for this private gathering. A bevy of lanterns cast a warm light on the inlaid and polished limestone. With all of dinner and some mild chatter to regain his composure, my father was doing a good job at pretending he hadn’t forgotten my birthday. He stood next to my grandfather’s overstuffed chair, holding a freshly refilled glass of brandy and trying to get the attention of the rest. My seat was of the same style, and I was uncomfortably close to the center of attention.
“Almost ten years ago now,” my father began. This got a groan from those familiar with his tendency to tell tales. “Let me finish. Almost ten years ago now, I was back at the manor in Sudtor, enjoying a rather peaceable stay with my family. There had been a bit of a commotion that morning, and talk of a fallen star, but I hadn’t paid it much heed. I’m sitting there in my library when one of the maids tells me that young Kord is tracking dirt into the house. I figure this is some overreaction to some muddy boots, but go and see what’s up. I find a whole line of footprints and a trail of clods leading to where he is standing. There he was, absolutely covered from head to toe in soil, shedding it as he went, and hugging this big lump of rock. Now he didn’t want to tell me what he had, but there was no way to get away from me without answering.”
I kept my face as still and expressionless as I could muster, despite the upwelling of anger and irritation. He was conveying the whole incident as if it were some cute anecdote. But exploding at him would be unjustly rude to my grandfather and uncles. So I sat and seethed as he continued.
“Well, I finally got young Kord to tell me what on earth he was up to. It turns out he had seen the star fall, and chased it to the spot where it had landed. He had then gone and dug it out of the hole with his bare hands and carried it home. He was hugging a lump of fallen star as big as his chest. I should never have been surprised that my son would not only go chasing after falling stars, but succeed at finding it. So what do you do when your eleven year old son brings home a massive amount of starmetal?”
“You steal it from me,” I hissed. I’d tried to keep the words in, but they escaped me. My voice had been low, but from the look Prince Kord shot, he’d heard me. My father was closer, and clearly heard me too, as he stumbled on the next sentence, pausing long enough to rephrase it.
“We had to get it forged, of course. To let that much starmetal sit on a shelf would have been criminal. Naturally such a task could only be entrusted to the best smiths. Fortunately, this family has the reach to gain their services. Well, there wasn’t quite enough to make a full panoply for young Kord, and we didn’t know how big he was going to get. Though we did agree that his coming of age sword should be made from it.”
I clenched my jaw and bit back the snide rejoinders welling up within me.
“On its way here, the blade and its companions have made a tour of this family’s holdings. We’ve all made some contribution to the final product.” My father paused, then looked around. “Who has it?” My grip tightened on the arm of the chair as the silence dragged on and people began looking at each other. As my annoyance threatened to boil over, Peter’s laugh broke through his stoic facade.
“All right, I have it,” he said. The blindfolded man rose to his feet, producing a red box as if from nowhere. The box was too big to have been hidden conventionally near the wizard. He walked to the front of the room and presented the box to me. I’d seen sword boxes before. They were typically only made for the fanciest blades. This box was out of the ordinary. It was of the expected length and height, but wider. The wood of the main box was a striking red, with whorls and knots naturally weaving an intricate pattern. Inlaid into the top was a rectangle framed in iridescent opalwood. In tortoiseshell, gold, turquoise, and malachite, it depicted the same griffins and globe I’d carried in the procession – mark of cadence and all. Though in this case, I could justify the use.
Unhooking the clasps, I lifted the lid.
Starmetal was most easily identified by the coloration. Even in the most dim illumination, it shone a silver-white not unlike starlight. Resting in red velvet, the contrast was brilliant. There was not one blade in the box, but three. The longest was a Stirnberg rapier, and the box was built to accommodate that blade. Its hilt was crafted in the form of a raptor with its wings swept down to the pommel. It was gilded and studded with black sapphires in the gaps between the tips of the feathers. The eyes were small star rubies. I suppose the bird could have been the front half of a griffin.
The second blade in the box was formed in the same shape as my father’s sword, Jotunrender. It was a straight, narrow blade slightly shorter than the Stirnberg rapier. The front quillion was bent down and reached to the level of the pommel. The back quillion was bent up to catch blades sliding down the back of the blade. A ring guard protected the hand on either flat of the blade. Its pommel was a sphere of malachite held in a gilt taloned claw. The grip was wrapped in dark red leather. The third blade was a dagger, with a simple s-guard and a pommel of lapis gripped in a talon that mirrored the second.
I gingerly lifted the rapier from the box so that my younger cousins could see it. A distinct note of awe escaped many of them. Up the fuller of the blade, I spotted a line of tiny runes etched into the surface. They twinkled with the shine the gleamed along the sword. No, they twinkled with an innate light of their own. Of course, what else would Peter contribute that would leave it in his hands for the presentation? Carefully setting the box aside, I rose and gave the sword a few test swings. Unsurprisingly, the balance was perfect.
* * *
There were distinct dividing lines between the various classes of society that played out most strikingly in their traditions and celebrations. The petty Burghers who’d shared the Explorer House with me would have a more boisterous and boozy celebration of the end of their boyhood. As the spawn of a noble house, I had no such fun. The vigil had become entwined with the overall tradition, because so often noble sons were knighted as they came of age. I could have opted to be knighted, but being beholden to the myriad obligations and service did not appeal to me. But, that did not mean I could avoid the vigil. With the multitude of temples and chapels in the city, I got to pick where I carried it out. I forsook the palace chapel in favor of the Grand Pantheon. The structure was one built by citizens of Karststadt, rather than Prince Kord.
The temple was a soaring, rectangular building whose roof was held aloft by pillars thick enough to hide a horse behind. Each pillar was ringed with painted friezes and reliefs all the way up to the molded capitals. The floor was patterned in polished marble, and highly wrought altars sat in alcoves along the outer walls. There was no furniture within, and anyone seeking to give extended piety would need to bring their own knee cushion or prayer stool. I had both, though the platform of the prayer stool held the sword box rather than my rear end. The box sat open, letting the light from lamps and candles skitter across the starmetal. Discreetly, almost shyly, I held a tiny book filled with the prayers I was expected to recite through the hours of the vigil.
Few people wandered the Grand Pantheon at this hour. Those that did had their footfalls deadened by the temple slippers they wore. The slippers had no special significance beyond protecting the flooring from being soiled. My boots rested in a niche in the antechamber at the front entrance. A handful of clerics moved about the perimeter, making sure the lanterns were fueled, and the candles stayed lit. I knelt in the middle of the massive space, well away from their quiet prayers. I had almost reached calm when the quiet sussurrance of temple slippers on polished marble approached. I doubted it was a priest, they were unlikely to disturb a vigil. My supposition was proven correct when my father knelt down beside me. He whispered to avoid disturbing the priests.
“I spoke to Wendel.”
“You don’t speak growltongue,” I whispered back.
“I had some help. Anyway, I heard from him what you had said regarding your… discontent.”
“Is this really the time?”
“I think you’ve misinterpreted my actions over the years.”
“Oh? So you didn’t just take my star away without asking what I wanted to do with it?”
“What would you have done with it?” my father asked, his voice still a whisper.
“That’s not the point. It wasn’t your decision to make.”
“You were eleven.”
“And you didn’t even ask my opinion. You just assumed I couldn’t make the choice.”
“Everything I have done has been in your best interests. You mentioned the ruined bath house. Have you ever thought about the state it was in before we rebuilt it? It was cold, damp, and moldy. Letting a child play around that is asking for him to get sick. My choices were collapse it or rebuild it, and I thought you’d appreciate seeing what it looked like before it fell into decay.”
My jaw tightened as I fought to avoid raising my voice. “And yet you passed these edicts from on high without pretense of consultation, or explanation. What did you think you were doing?”
“I was being the best father possible.”
“How? You were never there!” My outburst echoed through the temple chamber, drawing a few uncomfortable glances from the clerics. I sheepishly turned back to the small book of prayers.
“That’s the real problem, isn’t it?” my father asked.
“You were always gone to gods knew what corner of the world. Every so often, you would swoop in for a few months, then vanish again. It was as if we were an after thought, or a footnote in one of your books.”
My father fell silent, almost sullen. I resumed the vigil prayers, my own words spent. We stayed there until dawn came, and I reached the end of the prayer book.
* * *
The jubilee was slated to run for several days. The worst of it was the state dinner. Just trying to keep the protocol and terms of address straight felt like an impossibility. There was not a major polity that had not at least sent an envoy. Ambassadors from Atlor, Iokathra, Vartenthral, Valay, Quendaverus, Yothos, and Zanthas were hard enough to address. Worse were those who came in person. Kings from Snaerveldi and Zesrin were outshone by the Emperor of the Volkmund who brought half the Imperial court. The pageant of glittering finery and exotic costume blurred into one long, gaudy smear in my mind. Too much pomp and pomposity paraded past. It felt odd to be constantly referred to as ‘Graf von Zesrin’. No one called me that normally, even if it was technically correct. I’d never even been to Zesrin, it’s just where my father was born.
I kept my mouth shut as much as possible, ate the overly expensive food, drank the overly expensive alcohol, and tried not to offend anyone important. There was no good reason for me to be here. At least Bas and Max were in contention to succeed our father as an Imperial Count. There was enough of a crowd that I could blend in and disappear. If only the King of Snaerveldi hadn’t just decided to leave his assigned spot to perch on a stool by my father’s elbow. Though his attire was of high quality weave decorated in neat, skillful embroidery, Alvar Lev had cultivated the look of a barbarian. Over his fine clothes he’d draped the oversized pelt of a snow lion, head on his chest and foreleg around his shoulder as if giving him a hug. His auburn locks were neat and tumbled onto the pelt in imitation of windblown wildness. He was betrayed by his beard, which was not as full as I expected he wanted. The scars running down his left cheek had faded to the hue of his complexion, but cut into his beard like furrows where no hair grew.
“It’s been too many years,” Alvar said.
“Why do you act more civilized when I visit you than when you visit us?” my father asked.
“I act as people expect me to act,” he grinned.
“I expect you to act like a king.”
“Liar,” Alvar laughed. He looked at Bas, Max, and myself. “These are your boys?”
“Yes, these two are the twins, Sebastian and Maximilian. Would you believe they’re supposedly adults now?”
Bas exaggerated rolling his eyes.
“And this is Kord, who’s just coming of age now.”
“You were the one born on the prince’s Accession Day.”
“Yes,” I said.
“Happy birthday.”
“That was yesterday.”
“I wasn’t here yesterday,” Alvar said. I realized I was on the cusp of being pointlessly rude to a man who’d been otherwise civil and amiable.
“Well, thank you,” I said.
“Is your father going to take you through the Rite of Manhood?”
“Alvar, I don’t-” my father started. It was Max who interrupted him.
“Is that the hunt where you go out into the woods unarmed and try to take prey?” Max asked.
“You’re far from unarmed,” Alvar said, “You have a knife and your wits.” He rested his left hand atop the head of the snow lion pelt he wore. “I was a bit witless and blundered into my beast. Your father had a bit more craft and put a point on some saplings for spears.” The King of Snaerveldi looked directly at me. “I hear you went to the University. You should be more cunning than either of us were.” The king’s vibrant blue eyes had a mischievous twinkle to them as he waited for my answer.
“I half expected my father to force me to do something like that,” I said.
“Oh, you can’t be forced to undergo the Rite of Manhood. That goes against the whole spirit of the trial. And I’m sure they’ll still treat you like an adult in the Volkmund, even if you’re still a boy in Snaerveldi.”
“If you think you can goad me into a rash action-” I started.
“You know him better than he wants to admit,” Bas interjected. I glared at Bas even as Max suppressed a guffaw.
“You’re lucky this is a formal event,” I hissed.
“You don’t need to make up your mind now,” Alvar said in a conciliatory tone. “After all we can’t rush off and do anything. We’d need to find a forge so you can make your knife, and a forest to do the hunt in.” He paused. “There was this big forest I passed through between Neph and here.”
“That would be the Hookwood,” Bas said.
“Wouldn’t it have been faster to go downriver from Auratus and sail to Salzheim rather than ride all the way through the Hookwood?” I asked.
“No,” my father said.
“More comfortable maybe,” Alvar said, and waved it off. My father didn’t stop.
“Auratus is farther north than most people think, and it’s shorter to take the north road to get from there to Karststadt.”
“Thank you, Dug,” the King of Snaerveldi said. I wasn’t sure if the remark made him stop talking, or if he’d simply finished with the useless piece of trivia. I should have known better than to raise a question of geography around my father. Bas grinned at me.
“You know you’re not going to get a better chance to outdo dad in something he’s done. How many times have you heard that tusk seal story?” Bas asked.
“Alvar,” my father said, “You were nearly killed and I broke a hip.”
“And thousands of others return unscathed every year,” the King said.
“Most of them also just snare a rabbit or other small game. And if Bas is goading Kord to outdo me, he’s not going to settle for something like that.”
“It’s my choice, right?” I asked.
“Of course,” Alvar said.
I sat back and thought about the prospect. “I’ve been stuck in this city for six years now. Gods know I want to get out of here. I was very much at home in the woods and hills.”
“Of Sudtor,” my father said, “Where you could return to a warm bed every night.”
“And if the Hookwood is along the fastest route to Auratus, Hermann will be returning home that way. The only uncle I’ve spent any time with is Horst.”
My father sighed, realizing his error. By arguing against my participation, he’d made up my mind to undergo the Rite.
There is an offhand remark about ambassadors from Zanthas, and other lines in other sections about Zanthas being in the midst of an interregnum and run by warlords.
These are not contradictory, the ambassadors represent the warlords, who are seeking any advantage over their rivals, including external support.
Since Kord does not care much about the politics of that kingdom, he doesn’t remark too much on it.
Were they from Zanthas, or Zanthas?
Zanthas.
Or was it Zanthas? No, it was probably Zanthas.
As always, really like your descriptions (for which I usually have no patience from other writers – ***COUGH COUGH*** Tolkein ***COUGH COUGH***,) especially the blades. Now I want to see them made by finalists on FiF. As for the characters and action, the tension between father and son is particularly palpable.
I reserve the right to add more comments later when I’m at lunch, not pretending to scan copies of checks and invoices into the Accounts Payable system.
Speaking of blades – In this setting, Starmetal is not meteoric iron. It may not even contain iron.
So it had special qualities prior to enchanting? Or just it’s rarity?
It has special qualities even without enchantments.
Alternate universe metal?
Well, it’s not falling into this setting from an alternate universe as far as I know.
Ah, interesting information, I was assuming it was meteoric iron. Now I want to see what Kord’s sword can do with the additional enhancement of Peter’s enchantment.
Great storytelling, much appreciated.
*looks sheepishly from side to side*
Err…
I’ve never actually written a scene where he uses them beyond brandishing…
Darn, i was looking forward to the reveal.
I think it’s a mistake introduced from the fact that this yarn is also the intoduction of a longer work which moves away from the tale of Kord’s relationship with his father to more adventure-centric stories.
Well, you could do some stories where his sword’s special characteristics come into play. Maybe even future stories where the swords are passed down to Kord’s son….
For some reason Kord just keeps not getting into a fight when he has the starmetal swords on him.
Which would be an interesting enchantment. A weapon with “keeps nearer out of fights”…
He did get into one fight with the dagger in hand. It was in Banker of Stirnberg, but no one got cut.
Damn, I want to find out what they can do!
At the very least, I’d imagine they make the “ssshing!” sound effect, even when drawn from a leather scabbard.
Star metal could be made from the remains of starship that crashed in the land from the civilization that brought them there (civilization collapse and lost knowledge over time), a satellite or spaceship remnant from the aliens that brought them there, Gods weapons, etc.
The magic they have might be lost or poorly understood tech.
I apologize, I try to turn every fantasy novel into scifi.
“In the beginning, there was ice.” – Karl Olander, Beyond the Edge of the Map.
This world was created by the dragon god Yath as a home for his children. Other sentient races were added to act as servants for the dragons. In the time since, other forms have developed from the root races.
Mormon or Scientologist?
Could even be a secular civ like Pournelle’s Co-Dominion
Are there Sauron Supermen?
I remember people here talking strategy about this hunt. I don’t remember if you revealed how it turned out then.
I did not reveal the outcome.
I did ask a lot of questions of the glibertariat.
IIRC the general consensus was split between .375 H&H and .454 Casull.
That was a different conversation.
Now I’m wondering whether it would be possible to create a taxonomy of conversations based on their degenerate state. If all conversations about hunting wind up being caliber wars, all convos about television shows eventually mention “Ginger v. Maryanne,” etc. Godwin’s law identified the end state of all political discussions. Someone else could make a name for themselves by discovering the set of all conversations that converges on “deep dish isn’t really pizza.”
All conversations degenerate to math.
…discovering the set of all conversations that converges on “deep dish isn’t really pizza.”
Those are circumcision conversations.
Thanks for the story.
I am looking forward to the rest.
Three more parts.
Israel and the UAE normalize relations
“The president, Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu and Crown Prince of Abu Dhabi and Deputy Supreme Commander of the United Arab Emirates Sheikh Mohammed Bin Zayed released a joint statement Thursday, after the three spoke “and agreed to the full normalization of relations between Israel and the United Arab Emirates.” The statement said that the “diplomatic breakthrough” was at “the request of President Trump,” and that Israel will “suspend declaring sovereignty over areas outlined in the President’s Vision for Peace and focus its efforts now on expanding ties with other countries in the Arab and Muslim world.”
Trump should win the Nobel Peace Prize this year, but they’ll probably give it to the woman who stripped naked in Portland.
Yeah. That just popped up in my newsfeed as well. Damn that Jew hating Nazi Trump!
This is exactly why Trump will never get a ‘Peace Prize’.
I dont think anyone knows how much money is being pumped in to the ME wars and how much of that lines pockets here in the states. If he puts an end to those wars they will hunt him down and kill him.
What do you think would happen to you if you cured cancer? The Susan G. Komen foundation would take a hit out on you before you could reveal it.
Contrast this with Obama/Biden/Clinton leaving the Middle East in a shambles. Libya, Iraq, Afghanistan, Yemen, Syria devolving into failed states in a constant state of internecine wars and who can even count the dead bodies.
That there is any chance of Trump losing this election depresses the hell out of me.
I forgot to include the debacle in Egypt.
With a neutral press Trump would win in a blowout.
Ok, UCS, so how do you come up with names? I run D&D campaigns every once in a while, and one of the hardest things for me is coming up with the names for anything. Places, People, organizations… etc.
Names are hard. I have a collection of bookmarks for random generators. I then look at scads of potential names, taking notes of either names or fragments that sound good. Other times I start from a word, check out translations of that word in other languages, and grab pieces from there.
I spend a lot of time assigning names, and it still doesn’t reliably give good results.
Take a existing organization or place and put Ye Old in front of it?
Ye Olde Horse Haus
Ye Old Minecraft?
You also have to put an unnecessary e on the end of each word. Like Olde and Towne.
In Kingdom of Loathing, I had a store named Ye Olde Towne Pube.
Get a couple of baby name books, especially ones with foreign names. I had the same issue for years.
Teaser for Tulsi fans.
Tulsi starts her speech talking about war, moves on to her economic policies and the mic cuts off, the speaker system starts playing a patriotic song, and Trump walks out and ushers her off stage.
One day the Dems will win the white house again. When it happens, we could do a whole lot worse than Tulsi.
Tulsi vs Haley 2024 — Hindu vs Sikh-Methodist
Could be. She’s a complete socialist ignoramus when it comes to economics. But maybe common sense would save her from doing anything overly stupid? I don’t know.
She’s ex military. Once she’s in charge she will quickly rediscover the warboner, like every other ex-military President not named Carter.
Send her a copy of ‘The Law’. It might fix her.
Never gonna happen.
Agreed
Tulsi for SecDef.
What an awful day. Fucked up several different things at work today, and didn’t quite catch it for my actual fuckup, catching it for something tangentially related. Postman always rings twice. Waiting for a callback that should have happened twenty minutes ago.
Ugh. Sorry Gustave. Hope it works out.
My sympathies. I had one of those last week.
Tried to cut grass, the mower crapped out
Grabbed the weedeater, it wouldn’t start
Gave up on the grass and tried to get online – “You are not connected to the internet”
Tried to turn on the back TV….”Not programmed with updated remote”
I walked into the living room and told Mrs. Suthenboy “If we have to go anywhere today, you’re driving. I am not touching anything else today.”
Thanks guys. Venting is better than puking. I think.
Thanks again, UCS, loved it.
My father sighed, realizing his error. By arguing against my participation, he’d made up my mind to undergo the Rite.
Every generation of fathers and sons learns this.
I try to make characters believable.
For those Glibs looking for 9mm, Bulkammo just got Federal HST in stock. Be warned, it’s not cheap.
https://www.bulkammo.com/bulk-9mm-ammo-9mm124jhphstfedprem-50
When does The Hat whisper in Donny’s ear that he needs a Bigly Beautiful Price Control on Ammo like for prescription drugs.
*whistles*
Too rich for my blood
Shiz. Over a dollar a round?
I have enough to hold me over…. I hope.
How long does it take to get new production lines up?
You think the feds are gonna let anyone open up a business to make more ammo?
supposedly Fiocchi is building a new factory in the US.
https://www.ssusa.org/articles/2020/7/30/fiocchi-investing-in-new-arkansas-manufacturing-facility/
Sure. The licensing is the easy part.
The tooling and component supply chain is the hard part.
High end to start with but….over $1 per round for 9mm? Yikes.
It’s HST. That stuff was over $0.60/round in the before-times.
Not really my bag. Nickel plated brass hardens faster so not ideal for reloading. Better bullet for 9mm is 147 grain hard -cast flat nose.
I am well stocked.
I’m assuming it’s nickel-plated because people buy one box and then leave it in their carry gun’s magazine for years.
Fortunately, it was on sale fairly regularly so I didn’t have to worry about carrying anything more than 6 months old.
I have bought empty nickel plated brass before and loaded it up but for rifles that I rarely shoot. Ex. – 32 Winchester special (what the hell was Winchester thinking?)…I have about 500 rounds for a gun I have shot half of a dozen times. And so on.
Not in this household.
Really? I don’t shoot a whole lot of defensive ammo. I’ll buy a box of one that I’m considering, shoot it at the range along side my FMJ to prove that it hits in the same place, then buy a second box of it if it works. Then I’d replace it every few months or so.
Really.
Buy it cheap, stack it deep.
You see, NA, you don’t even need the gun, if you have enough ammo, you just push the stack over and it’ll crush the guy 200 yards away.
A year or so ago, I bought a case of Speer Gold Dot 9mm 124 gr for about $350. I now wish I had bought two.
I don’t shoot a whole lot of defensive ammo
same here: I maybe cycle a couple of mags every time I go to the range
https://www.federalpremium.com/handgun/american-eagle/
I ordered 2,000 rounds last week. It won’t ship until next week probably.
$19 for 50 rounds; so $380 per case.
Normally, I loathe paying MSRP directly to the manufacturer. But I felt blessed to find it last week. 😉
The place that used to sell good quality remanufactured ammo is now listing their 115gr for $310/case and their 147gr for $400 a case. Both are out of stock of course.
Four-fucking hundred a case. For reloads.
For that kind of money you could look at reloading equipment. Your initial costs would probably be more but still, 8 Benjis will buy a lot of reload gear. Reload more than 1 caliber, reload fro friends, maybe even going shares on the equipment.
Check your local club bulletin board, see if anyone is selling. Right now I have trouble finding the powder I’d like so reloading is not always a panacea but once you build some inventory of components bought on sale you have more flexibility.
I haven’t shot a store bought in 40 years, though I also haven’t shot too much either. Have components in reserve. I have dies for guns I don’t even have now but who knows what tomorrow may bring. Reviewing a Midway catalog occasionally, oh, oh, they have XX brass on sale, I may need that some day, better get 500. Things like that happen.
If my consumption continues to increase at this rate, I will have to do that. I know some people reload in the winter and shoot it in the summer, but one of my clubs has gotten really good at shooting all year ’round.
With a good Dillon you can load 1000rds of 9mm in a night no problem.
I just looked now. A Lee’s turret kit is just over $200, but is backordered into September. I don’t know how much additional kit you need beyond the kit, though.
There’s a real issue if you have a FiveseveN or the new Ruger 57.
That ammo is really problematic for reloading. The ammo has a polymer coating that is integral to proper function and the cases get beat up in the firing process.
Equipment for reloading is very spare as well.
That somewhat shitty AE that kinnath links used to be sub $20 a box.
Supposedly it’s in stock, limit 2 cases:
https://www.milehighshooting.com/geco-9mm-luger-fmj-115gr-dtx-50-box/
Shipping is not cheap. I bought a case anyway.
At least shipping was free at $380 a case.
American Eagle 124 gr is my preferred practice round. It feels and shoots exactly the same as the Speer God Dot 124 gr that I use for defensive rounds.
It is very clean too.
We will see if it really exists. If it does, I can relax a little bit since I’m mainly worried about getting through October.
oooh, I just ordered some too. Thanks for posting this, it’s been ridiculous trying to find any 9mm out there
You are welcome.
I need to up my homeowners insurance coverages.
“I’m going to need some proof that you actually have half a million dollars in ammunition.”
Don’t send it, it’s a trap!
Next time I move, I’ll ask for your help. You can be on ammo can & crate duty.
I charge a tithe of ammunition on every box moved.
Assume your door ways will accommodate a pallet jack?
https://www.realclearpolitics.com/epolls/2020/senate/2020_elections_senate_map.html
I like RCP, because they have the aggregates, and as just a consistent baseline. However, i want to know what their criteria is for calling something “toss-up” because they have Grahm (SC) as a toss up, and Peters (MI) a toss up, both of whom are up 7-8 % against their respective opponents.
I would be more strict on my “toss up” category.
Recent polls get more weight in the toss-up determination, I think. In both cases, recent polls are dead heat whereas the RCP average includes older polls that weren’t as close.
Another character/relationship thing I’ve been enjoying in the story: the dynamic between Kord and his older twin brothers. I can imagine having your big brothers share the bond twins often (usually?) share could add to a feeling of isolation, on top of having a habitually absent father.
There is a distinct dividing line between the twins and the other children. From Banker of Stirnberg
And the only real divide between the twins is the debate over which is older – as that would determine which one stands to inherit.
And I suppose splitting or sharing is out of the realm of possibility.
In other enjoyable reading news, Omnirunner has just mailed himself the critical USB drive and is on his way to rescue the hostages.
Damn day job. (Mine, that is.)
One of my many active projects is continuing that story into a full-length book.
Kinda “Superhero Noir” to me. Lots of “dark underbelly” of society the protagonist sees before reclaiming his hero privilege – for good or ill? Guess I’ll find out.
Is that good or bad?
Oh, it’s good! Original – a new, hybrid genre?
The best part about having a set of interchangeable twins is you can kill one of them off for dramatic effect without having to change anything else about your books *KoffFredandGeorgeKoff*
I do not get the reference.
Some Brit-lady had a book series. Really popular with the Millennials. Was in all the papers for a while. She killed off one of her twins who were so undifferentiated that I couldn’t tell you which one it was and it made no difference since the two of them never did anything independent of the other anyway.
I see.
Not twin incest porn?
If you google “socialism and racism,” (without quotation marks) the top result will be “capitalism and racism.” DuckDuckGo and Bing generate very different search results.
Google is intelligent enough to know that only capitalism can cause racism, so it can autocorrect your wrongthink for you.
Ditching google (as a search engine) was one of those things that seems hard, but is incredibly easy to do. I changed my browser settings and havn’t looked back.
Got a good alternate maps source? It’s the only thing that I still end up using on their site and want to ditch it.
mapquest?
Last time It tried their interface it wasn’t the greatest.
Caveat, that may have been an internet eternity ago.
Still don’t care for it. So far Google maps seems to have escaped the woke infestation.
The search filter is subtle, you don’t know where you are supposed to end up, so they steer you to the leftist sites. If you started asking for directions to a gun range on Google Maps and they took you somewhere woke, then you’d stop using it.
Like, earlier I was talking about Kamala’s ban on private health insurance. Was looking to cite a source. Could not find it on Google. It’s scrubbed clean. Found it on DuckDuckGo right at the top.
Bernie had a bill in 2018 that would put every single American on Medicare. Get rid of private health insurance. She was one of the cosponsors. But Google has that information buried, even when you directly search for it.
USGS, and Compass?
What good will that do for drafting iteneries for road trips? Those paper maps don’t have the information I need on them.
Nice. Clearly DDG and Bing are not hiring the best and brightest.
I recently Googled “daily caller” and the top result was a Media Matters post about how, apparently, the DC is staffed with a bunch of bigots.
Zanthas, or Zanthas?
No, the craw!
https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=tVYx4qcXciw
You no say that now!!!
Caller to Rush Limbaugh: “No one is talking about this but if there is no declared President/VP by January (X) the speaker of the house becomes president.”
I think he is wrong. I cant find much about it except that if the POTUS and VP are both vacant offices the President Pro Tempore of the Senate becomes President until a new election can be held. The Speaker of the House is second in line. (Presidential Succession Act of 1792)
Anyone know anything about this?
if there is no declared President/VP by January (X) the speaker of the houseMcAfee becomes president.”
OK, I have weird daydreams when I’m on vacation.
Looking at the present day line of succession the Speaker is not second, the President Pro Tempore is. I guess it changed since 1792.
That is terrifying.
Wiki says you are right:
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/United_States_presidential_line_of_succession
What are the chances the shitweasels are going to use the mail-in ballot as a ploy for creating a counting mess that extends beyond the official end of Trump’s term then claim that both the P and VP offices are vacant then crown Pelosi?
That is just the kind of slimy thing they would do.
A new session of Congress begins before the votes are counted. While the Democrats may keep the House and Pelosi may remain speaker, the election of the President is not decided by the lame-duck session.
The 1792 Act was amended in 1947 to put the Speaker of the House above the President Pro Tempore of the Senate.
Note though that under the Constitution as amended the Speaker does not become President in full, they are just fulfilling that role until the House completes its job of choosing which of the top 3 candidates gets to become the President for real.
right
but there are other weirdnesses as well:
all House terms end Jan 3d, two weeks before the WH terms, so, on the 20th, who is Speaker? Is there a seated House to even contemplated . . . were elections not held for some reason? Pelosi could certainly be elected and returned to DC even if the rest of the country were nuked off the face of the earth, but is she Speaker? When does the next Speaker get elected?
And Speaker is an office, not a person: Pelosi could instantly be replaced if needs be, so does her, say, death necessarily mean Grassley ascends . . . or does her replacement as Speaker have a claim?
Also, if the next crop of the Senate aren’t elected for some reason, Team Blue takes over that house, so would it be Grassley anymore. Or would every Governor have a right to have his instantly-nominated replacement seated? And who would control the Senate even in such a case?
Thinking back on Bush/Gore I bet under those scenarios they are just going to toss it at the feet of the SCOTUS.
*grinds teeth picturing John Robert’s face*
absolutely: there are a dozen scenarios, each subject to interpretation and gored oxen
As for Caller dude, I don’t know what he’s talking about. 1st If the house refuses to certify a presidential race, I think we’ve hit a lot more issues. If its about a stalemate in voting due to a Tie, i doubt that would happen.
I am probably just paranoid, but that doesnt mean they arent out to get us.
^
Leftists are pulling out all the stops. Nothing would surprise me.
They’re just doing it for our own good.
We are such a disappointment to them. Truly, this is a chance for the people to redeem the confidence of our betters. We best not squander it.
If the EC returns a conclusive result then the House does not have discretion to ignore it. The House has the responsibility to count the votes but not the power to deny the result if a majority of votes go to one candidate. The only discretion the House has is if no majority occurs, which is very unlikely in today’s political climate.
What is funny, and I didn’t know until a weak ago, but even if there was a tie, and even though the house is controlled by the Dems, the votes would lean republican, as each state only gets 1 vote and the GOP controls more states (by majority of votes representing that state). I think they have 26, the dems have 24, and there is one tie.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Political_party_strength_in_U.S._states
dems have 23*
But how many R’s would be NeverTrumper retards?
Shrug. The last time there was a Tie, i think Alexander Hamilton ended up dying because of it. There would be a lot of fighting.
Like I said…I am paranoid. I cant believe how close we are to disaster.
The Dems have been coopted by radical leftists who have openly stated their contempt for the country, founding ideals and a majority of its citizens. Their preferred policies are calculated to crush all of those.
My father has a friend from Eastern Europe who says all of the shit we are hearing from the commies here is word for word the same shit they spouted in Russia and Eastern Europe. The riot tactic is the same. In other words, the USSR made over.
The thought of a president Pelosi is terrifying to me.
Article II sez:
Potential tripwires:
There is no quorum (34 states are a quorum, I believe), meaning there is no Representative present from seventeen states.
Nobody can get a majority. I read this as needing 26 states to vote for a single candidate.
The 20th Amendment provides :
As I read Article 2, the President needs a majority of the electoral votes, but whoever has a plurality of electoral votes becomes the Vice President-elect. This gets into the mechanics of the Electoral College, but somebody will get a plurality unless there is a tie, .
And at that point, it goes to the Presidential Succession Act, and the Speaker is first in line. The order of Speaker and Senate President was flipped in 1947.
Reading that carefully it seems fairly water-tight but they are so fucking slimy and I know they have something up their sleeve.
https://twitter.com/RepThomasMassie/status/1293959356296441857
Graph paper is racist.
Well, it is related to math…
https://twitter.com/dibelloholly/status/1293963536788414464
Is that like German Science?
ROFLMAO.
Not real, but still amusing.
lolol
I like Alvar.
Nice read.
Alvar also appeared in Rite of Passage back when he was a moody teenager. He has a much more cheerful demeanor now.