The bejeweled gold panel looked nothing like a door, and until Vogel opened it, I didn’t even see the edges. Unless he’d seen someone entering or leaving, I wasn’t sure how he’d even found it. The space beyond was nowhere near as fancy as the public chambers. Clean, utilitarian shapes dominated the architecture as it slipped under the flying buttresses supporting the throne room. It appeared deserted, but we weren’t exactly stealthy, and the slaves and menial servants would have ample warning to avoid us. At each door and passage, Vogel would pause, make a quick assessment, then start down one direction without a sign as to how the decision had been reached.
“Why are we following him?” I asked.
“Vogel’s instincts got me out of Zesrin,” Hengist said, “I’ll give him a chance to get us out of Quendaverus.”
“One thing at a time,” Vogel whispered. “We need to get out of the palace first.”
“So where are you taking us?” I asked.
“A place like this is practically a city and will have exits the guards will not immediately think to cover.”
“Why does that sound like you’re taking us to the sewer?”
“If need be, that is an option. But I was thinking of the aqueduct coming in.”
“There’s no reason that need be big enough for us to get into.”
“Unless,” Vogel said, opening a door, “You have a garden to water.”
Dazzling light from dozens of crystal prism lanterns[51] fell upon a riot of colorful blooms spilling out from stone planting beds. Walkways of crushed white quartz meandered between the plants and gleaming fountains of silver and gilt bronze. Sprays and cascades of water misted the air with a constant gentle gurgle that echoed off the arched ceiling. Hummingbirds of myriad hues flitted between blossoms, and peacocks strutted between beds of exotic flora I couldn’t put names to. An opalwood pagoda with scarlet samite draperies sat in the middle of a pond ringed with neat green grass. Bridges of striking, blood-red wood[52] connected the pagoda and lawn. That it was all indoors without a drop of sunlight reaching the chamber momentarily astonished me.
“It’s warm in here,” Ritter remarked.
“There’s likely a hypocaust system under this floor,” I said.
Vogel dipped a finger into one of the fountain streams. “Water’s cold. We’re close to where the aqueduct enters the palace.”
“So where is it?” I asked.
Raising a finger to his lips, Vogel turned slowly in place. “Someone’s coming.” He dashed for the pagoda, and we hurried after him. Thumping across the bridge, we ducked past the samite. Within the structure was a single space with blood red benches and brocaded pillows arrayed around a plinth. The gilt statue on said plinth was of three dwarfs. Only the male in the middle had any concession to modesty, as his beard reached his knees. His female companions had no comparable coverings. But they were just metal. Positioning myself behind a pillar, I peered out of the pagoda. I spotted two squads of legionary dwarfs. The polished steel of their armor and broad shields bore the markings of the first legion. Half of their number had their shields slung across their backs to free their hands to carry bows. One squad had come from the direction from which we’d arrived, the other from an entrance I hadn’t seen across the garden. They moved with less of the swagger of the Throneguard, and more with the cautious, alert stance of the veterans we’d fought beside at Kydessa.
I raised a finger to my lips and continued to watch the legionaries. Twenty of them was more than the eight of us could realistically take on. The two squads met up on a quartz path.
“There’s nowhere they could have gotten down this way,” one of the dwarfs said, “And we’re getting further from the gates.”
“This is the area they were seen in.”
“But what’s back here?”
“The treasury?”
“That would be reckless, even for savages. I know mercenaries die for gold, but-”
“Enough,” the ranking dwarf said. “We need to keep searching. This place is a maze. We must have passed them somewhere. You make for the kitchens. We’ll head for the dining halls and meet you in the pouring chamber.” With an acknowledgment, the two squads split and headed for the exits. We held our collective breaths as the dwarf boots crunched on quartz gravel. Even after they left, we remained silent for a long while.
“We’re near the treasury,” Vogel whispered.
“Since when do you speak dwarfish?” I asked.
“Only for the past eighteen years,” he said. The man didn’t look like he’d passed thirty yet, which would mean he’d had to have learned the tongue at a younger age than I had.
“What’s it matter?” Lenz asked.
“It matters because I came here to get the Emperor to help finance the retaking of my kingdom,” Hengist said. “With him dead and the Interrex facing Azerion’s judgment, that’s not going to happen.”
“So, are we going to pay the treasury a visit?” Lothar asked.
“We’re not splitting up,” I said.
“Agreed,” Hengist said, “But I need to pay for troops to remove Stefak from my lands.”
I sighed. “The legion dismissed the possibility of us going for the treasury because it would be too reckless. What sort of defenses would the dwarfs have on the treasury?”
Vogel shrugged. “Who knows?”
“So we’re going to just blunder in there blindly?”
“No,” Hengist said. “We’re going to approach carefully and see if we can get in.”
“We should decide soon,” Soren said, “Before another search party wanders through.”
“We look,” I said, “But if there’s anything that’s going to cause us trouble, we have to skip it.”
Vogel pointed towards a wall of the garden where an arched doorway was set. I took hold of the arm he wasn’t pointing with.
“Before we go, would you care to share your reasoning?”
“Well,” Vogel said, “There are six doors. Those two are the ones the dwarfs came from. Those two are the ones they left through. That door heads out of the mountain and along the same general axis the dwarfs took. This one heads deeper into the mountain, and away from the search parties. If I recall, the heart of the mountain is where dwarfs preferred to bury their treasuries.”
I let go of Vogel’s arm, and we headed in the direction he’d indicated. The door led to a small warren of storage rooms filled with tools and supplies for maintaining the gardens. There was a single path through them that maintained a high level of decoration. It straightened out not far past the last door, spearing off into the distance. The long passage had ivory wall panels carved in low relief, with gilded ribs separating each scene. The art was more angular and stylized, its artistic language foreign to me. Whatever message had been intended; I couldn’t see it. The ivory was yellowed with age, giving the passage a mellow, golden hue in the prism lantern light. While it was pretty to look at, there was a smell in the air. It was close to a cross between unmucked horse stalls and wet dog with an astringent sting that needled the eyes. It was definitely an animal scent of some kind. I couldn’t find the source, but from the lack of side passages, I had to conclude it was somewhere ahead of us.
Ahead of us, however, was just more corridor. The passage looked like it stretched on forever. The mountains behind Kheimopolis were hundreds of miles thick, so the corridor could have been exceedingly long. But something felt wrong. As we walked, the odor ebbed, then came back just as strong. The cycle of scent didn’t make sense. On a hunch, I dropped the butt end of the broken haft on the smooth floor as we walked past the most odiferous point. I got a few odd looks, but no one stopped to pick up the damaged piece of halberd. We continued walking forward for about a minute. We stopped when I stooped down and picked up the butt end of the halberd haft.
“Well,” Hengist said, “That’s a problem.”
Looking behind us, the corridor appeared identical to the corridor before us.
“It’s got to be magic,” Andrei said.
“But what kind?” Lenz asked, “Portals?”
“No one knows how to make a portal anymore,” I said.
“But the art was known back when Kheimopolis was built,” Hengist said.
Turning my attention to the ivory panels, I tapped the material with the metal buttcap. The dull thump sounded quite solid. I got a tinny ring off the metal frames when I tapped them. I idly thumped the wall as I thought. I suppose I was looking for a concealed exit of some kind. After the artfully concealed exit from the throne room, I couldn’t rule out a secret passage. Of course, the exit could be magical, but figuring that out required figuring out the nature of the trap we were stuck in. If there was some kind of portal containing us in a span of corridor, I was in trouble. Modern ignorance of the art meant I hadn’t read anything about their function or limitations. But in both directions, we were seeing an infinitely long hallway. If that was an illusion caused by viewing a shorter span through a portal, shouldn’t we be seeing an infinite number of ourselves along that hallway?
“Thank you,” Hengist said.
“For what?” I asked.
“You stopped that infernal tapping.”
I looked over at the broken halberd haft. My hand was still waggling it in the general direction of the wall, but not getting close enough to make direct contact anymore. I tried to tap again, but my hand hesitated. It was as if I didn’t want to touch the wall. I took a step closer and tried to reach out again. My arm stayed bent until I forced my joints to straighten. Everything in my heart said don’t do it. Overriding instinct, I forced my arm towards the wall. My entire forearm passed right through the ivory panels without making physical contact or leaving a mark. There was no more hesitance as I stepped through the wall and into the corridor beyond.
While not as well lit as the passage I’d stepped out of, this one ended in an obvious door a dozen or so paces along. I turned and looked back. I could still see a ghostly impression of the fake wall, as well as another one further down the curving passageway. We’d been walking in a circle and been fooled into thinking it was a straight line.
“It’s just illusion,” I said.
The others looked around, trying to see me.
“Part of the wall is fake. There’s a hidden passage here.”
“How do you open it?” Lenz asked.
“As I said, it’s just illusion. There’s nothing to open.”
I saw the hesitation in Lenz’s posture as he stepped up to the wall.
“You’re right there. Just move forward,” I said.
Lenz drew in a deep breath. “You’d better not be lying to me,” he said, and forced himself to step forward. Pushing through the skin of the spell, the hesitation vanished, and he took two more steps before stopping and looking around.
“Of course I’m not lying,” I said.
Even having watched Lenz disappear through the wall, the others were still not immune to the hesitation and reluctance built into the trap to protect the illusion. One by one, they approached the section of wall and visibly willed themselves to push through.
“That’s it?” Andrei asked. “Shouldn’t the traps be worse?”
“This is the first,” Lothar said, “If one of your guests gets lost, you don’t want them to get killed because they stumbled into the wrong area.”
“We have to be more attentive going forward,” Vogel said. “But we are close.”
I motioned for Vogel to lead on, and we approached the doors at the end of the corridor. They were stout oaken doors with geometric inlays and gilded iron fittings. We stood there as Vogel scrutinized the portal. He approached the handles and seemingly just stood there. Leaning to the side, I saw that he was fiddling with the lock. At the sound of a click, Vogel leapt back. We all shuffled away from the doors as they swung away from us. Golden light spilled through the gap as the doors continued to swing apart on their own. As soon as they were open as wide as the walls of the corridor, there was a clunk above us. No one needed to be told to run as a segment of the true ceiling detached and plunged through the illusory vault above us.
In a headlong rush, we ran onto the ramp beyond the door in time to be toppled from our feet by the slab of stone slamming into the floor behind us. I was fortunate enough to land such that I rolled sideways rather than head over heels. I came to a stop at the base of the ramp only for Hengist to bounce off my carapace and go sprawling just past where I’d landed. I twisted around to look back up the ramp. Four stout chains were already lifting the slab back into place above the illusory span of ceiling. Pushing myself up to a sitting position, I looked around the room we’d ended up in.
Made up of nine vaulted segments with four pillars around the middle, it was a square space decorated in the same manner as the corridor, though much taller and wider. The ramp we’d fallen down had a matched twin leading up to another set of doors opposite where we’d come in. Filling the space to either side were shelves of inlaid wooden chests and caskets, racks of weapons of all stripes, ornate armors on stands, and statuary of myriad styles. Other art objects gleamed and glimmered from their own display cases in between the weapon racks. My eyes passed from treasure to treasure, but something was nagging at the back of my mind. It wasn’t just the stronger odor – there was something else amiss with this chamber.
“Something’s not right,” I said.
“Other than the fact the whole palace must have heard that trap go off?” Lenz asked.
I helped Hengist to his feet while my mind searched for the detail that was bugging me.
“All the more reason to get this over with and get moving again,” Lothar said, moving over to the nearest shelves.
“There are no modern pieces,” I said as Lothar’s hand passed through the chest he was trying to open. All of the treasures in the room shimmered and faded as the ramps collapsed. The top third of either ramp slammed up to cover their respective doorways, while the bottom fell flush with the floor. Lothar barely had time to utter a profanity before a skittering sound echoed through the now-empty chamber. We hurried to scoop up our halberds before forming a ring facing outward. The sound appeared to be coming from everywhere, as if the whole room had come alive with claws on stone. The moment the first appeared, I knew what I’d been smelling this whole time.
Segments of the wall on the upper level swung out on top-mounted hinges as massive murine heads pushed them open. Yellowed, pitchfork-like incisors dripped with pale greenish fluids. Pushing their shoulders past the hatches, the colossal rodents hopped to the floor. Greasy, matted brown fur covered their bodies, save for the naked tail. The first digits on their forepaws ended in long, black, scythe-like claws grossly out of proportion to the rest of their already overgrown forms. The creatures dwarfed even adamantarxes, and loomed over the lot of us.
“Venom rats,” I said, unable to keep the mix of dread and disgust from my voice. That statement drew a maniacal cackle from the rats’ riders. Having been transfixed by the monstrosities, I’d missed the wild-maned dwarfs upon their backs. Clad in filth-stained homespun, the dwarfs clinging to the rats’ fur had clearly never met comb nor shears, and their hair and beards were as wild and matted as the pelts of their steeds. All were missing at least some teeth, and each clutched a command staff[53] in the hand not holding clumps of fur. Twirling his staff over his head, a graybearded rat-rider let out a battle cry, and the beasts surged forward. Our defensive ring was worthless as the venom rats simply plowed through it, tearing with their toxic claws[54] and gnashing with overgrown teeth. Their stench washed over me as I was knocked flat. Smashing the butt end of my broken halberd across its snout, I sent fragments of yellowed teeth flying in a spray of green spittle and scarlet droplets. Hacking the axehead into the sinewy flesh behind the skull, I drew a current of crimson. Enraged, the beast raked me with its forepaws, shredding my tabard and drawing sparks as its talons skittered over my armor. A great ringing filled my ears as the metal head of the rider’s staff bounced off my helmet.
Driving the spike end of the halberd into the rat’s shoulder joint, I tried to lever the beast off me. Again and again I hammered the butt end of the halberd against the side of the rat’s snout, forcing the drizzle of blood and spittle away from my face. Inch by inch, I twisted out from under the creature and regained my feet. The venom rat slammed into the floor as the head of the halberd snapped off the haft. With its own spit-flecked cry, the rider leapt from the rat, swinging the hooked goad for my neck. I swatted the staff aside with the butt end of the halberd and caught the rat-rider by a handful of disgusting beard. Screeching and thrashing, the dwarf tried to hammer me with his goad. As I wrenched the weapon from his grasp, I saw that the missing teeth were not incidental. They had removed those teeth to either side of the front incisors so that they more resembled rats.[55]
I hurled the raging ball of beard, bile, and flailing limbs at the graybearded rat-rider. The elder dwarf ducked out of the path of his flying fellow. Standing with staff in hand, I began smiting skulls with as much strength as my sinews and Marcel’s suit of plate would grant me. Rat, dwarf, it didn’t matter, I did my damnedest to smash them to splinters. With the hacking of halberds, the others helped hurl the beasts back. As we splattered the false treasury with scarlet, it became apparent that there had been fewer rats than I’d initially feared. My fury faded as the graybeard fell, still as incoherent as his followers.
[51] Prism lanterns are pieces of glass or crystal enchanted to glow. I have one in the form of a garnet set into a ring. Most modern prism lanterns are made of Atlorian glass, though these are likely clear quartz. The clearer the material, the cleaner and more even the light produced.
[52] Likely Bloodsap Willow. While not a friendly material to work with, an expert craftsman can make some impressively beautiful pieces from the wood.
[53] It is more likely they carried bullhooks, as the command staff was created years later – by Prince Kord. Besides, the Ratkeeper dwarfs were of the lowest caste in dwarf society and not permitted weapons. Bullhooks are regarded as tools, thus permissible for them to carry into battle.
[54] In and of themselves, the venom rat’s claws are just claws. Their saliva, however, is poisonous, and they have a habit of grooming themselves with their forepaws and spittle. This makes the rats quite noxious to anything trying to bite them, and leaves a hefty residue of venom on their claws. The elongated foretalon my uncle notes here is a feature found only on male venom rats and is used when contesting for mates.
[55] I can’t verify if this is common practice among Ratkeeper dwarfs, but they do come from a small number of closely related families whose bloodlines are thick with hereditary insanity and rampant inbreeding. Such acts of body modification would not surprise me.
If you want your own copy, the whole book is available from Amazon in eBook, Paperback, and Hardcover variants.
It’s Sunday?
Cool.
**Don’s special helmet*
*dives in*
Is Don’s special helmet the one that makes him hate rednecks?
I can’t speak for Don but for me, it’s the rednecks that make me hate rednecks.
I think the “special” helmet is for fOSU football.
Of course you pick up on unlicensed apostrophe usage.
ARGH
+1 Kill The Wabbit
It’s not a magic helmet, sadly.
And lamentably, I don’t have a spear.
I do have a respectable double bit axe for self defense purposes.
You know, in case of zombies or Venom Rats.
“I can’t verify if this is common practice among Ratkeeper dwarfs, but they do come from a small number of closely related families whose bloodlines are thick with hereditary insanity and rampant inbreeding.”
Replace “Ratkeeper dwarfs” with “members of congress” and you have an updated footnote!
You sir or madam, have insulted.. um…. Ratty Dwarves for the last time.
The hereditary insanity and rampant inbreeding had me wondering if they were covered in tatts in addition to the body mods.
yet probably still more highly regarded among other dwarfs than humans are.
Part of me suspects they have fallen into the “we don’t talk about them” zone with other dwarfs.
Nice chapter.
I am in favor… favour… of twists on common monsters in a fantasy milieu. Makes perfect sense that there would be more than one kind of plague bearing vermin.
Thank you. I don’t recall where the idea for Venom rats came from, but I like how they turned out.
An interesting turn of events.
Just get the fuck out!
“Don’t go in there!” /audience to characters.
At least they haven’t split up to find the treasury . . . .
😱
Don’t split the party!
Never split the party!
*shakes Fist at UCS and his nimble fingers*
Wife has VDH on. Good lord does his vocal delivery suck. And his blather.
I had beers with him once, about 25 years ago. He hired my then girlfriend as an adjunct.
Nice guy, loves James Ellroy novels.
He was good about 150 yrs ago – around the Obamacare debates. A lot of his material now is a little canned and he’s just getting old. Good history books though.
From last night’s links:
“Spudalicious on January 4, 2025 at 5:36 pm
Next week is “The Weight” with Ringo.”
I’ve heard it and, IMHO, it’s excellent.
Nothing is ever easy.
A MILFier flavor to Slutty Sunday After Dark.
https://archive.is/KnaNp/bff8b2673006ba9b126ce5aedc3af5b5d7fbe33c.jpg
NSFW.
https://archive.is/er6QN/313635847fe80002d3ae2346c274538db3c55267.jpg
NSFW.
https://archive.is/UbZdM/9fdc2508c02c4698a2e88e4ac94912ceaaf31f43.jpg
NSFW.
https://archive.is/LxX3S/ff81f27fef4e17607d342dcb274c915734eb483e.jpg
NSFW.
https://archive.is/QLg7l/a7ae1c75f8a433e152b35539eb21c1a72842db10.jpg
NSFW.
Hello second wife.
Very nice selection of ladies, no kiddies
A seasoned sled slides faster than a green one.
I read and enjoyed. Thank you.
Well, drilling out the ignition lock for a 2004 suzuki is not a viable strategy- or at least not the way I tried. So I bought a used 06 Escape. I seem unable to let this suzuki go. It runs good if you can start it and I’ve replaced both front bearings and brakes, and have brand new struts to be installed. Maybe I’ll lay under the dash a few minutes at a time as my back allows, and just cut every wire going into the switch and splice on a long extension. Then I can just sit in the driver’s seat and wire in some toggles and a push button in comfort, maybe give the car to my son.
Briar status confirmed.
I’m impressed with your skills.
This still exists?
https://www.tvguidemagazine.com/
How else will I know what is streaming?
A very fun read. I also enjoy the venom rats. Speaking of: ” Smashing the butt end of my broken halberd across its snout, I sent fragments of yellowed teeth flying in a spray of green spittle and scarlet droplets.”
I’ve never killed a mammal in anger, but I imagine killing an actively dangerous one would be highly, highly satisfying. Boil the skull and venom away, ‘n I reckon y’ad have a fun little trophy. Make a bunch and could be a necklace. Terrifying fucks’d show bravery and a distinct lack of squeamishness. Would wear.
Welp. All went as expected. 😑
Gotta say, Moje:
KC’s second team sucks.
CBS agreed, before switching to some other match-up.
Hey! The third string helped!
Yeah- Cincinnati is out now.
If they can get Burrow a better supporting cast they will be dangerous.
Wentz is gone next year? Chiefs pick up either Pickett or McKee from the Iggles?
Speaking of names, an embarrassing note: Lothar Holstein was my GURPS character name as a kid. We never actually played, but we were into reading and character making. (I continued some of that with Werewolf.) Maybe the only time we ever ‘played,’ I fucked up cuz I didn’t know what “priceless” meant. Whoopsie-doodle.
Yeah, I read D&D manuals more than actually playing.
Right there with you.
Same same.
IT IS WITHOUT PRICE!
I thought that meant it was WORTHLESS cuz you constantly had it already! LIKE AIR! And not canned like in Spaceballs!
OT:
I finished my hot sauce finally after three months of fermentation.
Dammed good. Two bottles of Thai, Serrano, and cayenne and two bottles of ghost pepper and red bell.
Both had a mix of garlic and smoked paprika and the ghost were packed with carrots to mellow the heat.
I fermented these for so long because I honestly forgot about them being in the pantry.
Very nice. Nothing wrong with three months.
I just learned that sriracha does NOT go with unfrozen, rubbery salmon.
Oh well, a couple lessons learned there.
Break out the pesto for that. Good pesto makes a shoe edible.
Never really used it. Guess I could try.
God, I spent half of my college years making pesto. No longer a fan.
See also: chimichurri
Tapenade if you really want to amp it up
Interesting. I did add capers but in crushed form could be even better.
Worth buying some good green or black olive tapenade to try it – salty/savory deliciousness
Those aren’t real hot peppers…
Not everyone has an asbestos anus.
That said, most Monniesodans find ketchup spicy.
asbestos anus
Good band name.
A natch to open for the Red Hot Chili Peppers.
GT with the slam dunk
I just tried the Habanero Stout I brewed, I’ll need one of those anuses. I as my brew master buddy called it ‘aggressively peppered’ it.
ROUSes? I don’t think they exist.
The South Park creators said every scene in a story should be linked by words like “but”, “because”, “therefore” but never “and then”. I’ve been trying to follow that rule.
Fun with AI:
https://platedlizard.blogspot.com/2025/01/fun-with-ai-movie-pitches.html
From last night’s links re: Tedeschi/Trucks: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hxaineCMv38
I hope you found them pleasing
https://www.reuters.com/world/americas/canada-pm-trudeau-announce-resignation-early-monday-globe-mail-reports-2025-01-06/
Bad news. The boy turd will quit before being fired.
Whatever, good riddance.
If he quits now, the fucking weasel still has years to stage a comeback. Deport him to Cuba. Or decorate a lamppost.
He looks shockingly like Castro. We know the Trudeaus were swingers and frequented Cuba…frequently. Hanging with Castro. At sex parties. What’s the likelihood Justin is legit Castro’s son? Not 0% and we don’t know 100%, but *damn.* Me-really-no-thinky a coinky-dinky.
I do find this fun: “…Trudeau was expected to announce as early as Monday that he would 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐭 as leader of Canada’s ruling Liberal Party….” Yeah, you’re not supposed to reuse words in print, but that’s much harsher than the more accurate “resign.” That’s gotta burn.
Why would one wanna stay in power for 9 years, if not forever and no hope of that? Especially with a sinking s̵h̵i̵p̵ nation. Get your security, benefits, time to work on your memoir which will s̵e̵l̵l̵ ̵o̵u̵t̵ come with a hefty bonus. I’m also…lazy with power? Perhaps I *wouldn’t* be…but end on a high note/laugh. Why not? (The answer lies in why I have no Power.)
He should avail himself of Canadian Healthcare.
You’d think he maidoff on that deal by now, to no avail. Where’s Larry David when ya need him?
Maybe the west is not dead after all. Who pushed the first domino? Meloni? Milei?
Trudeau – Goodbye motherfucker.
Speaking of tyrannical turds getting flushed how long before Starmer gets his turn?
It is starting to look like replacing western culture with red eyed savages from the 7th century is not going to work.
Gonna need to replace the Tory pussies first. Why kick out Starmer when the choice is a dickface like Sunak (coincidentally the son in law of Infosys’ founder)?
Nigel Farage is making a play for all the Tory voters.
Hope springs eternal.
This image from The Golden Globes broke me tonight – https://x.com/audiilene/status/1876059783561961699
I don’t know why I found it so hilarious. Maybe it’s just me.
The entertainment industry circle jerks are freak shows….no, its not just you.
I am not sure how they managed to don a veneer of respectability. when I see them I always think ‘show people’, what they were called when I was growing up. Like congress you can count the respectable ones on the fingers of one hand.
I want to replace some jumpers with dip switches, but the jumpers I want to replace are two position jumpers, connecting a common center pin to either of two adjacent pins. I can’t seem to craft a search to find me dip switches with three pins per switch.
What verbiage am I overlooking?
Double Throw
Looks like a double throw single pole DIP switch will use four pins instead of three due to the constraints of the standard packaging.
🙁
That’s annoying. The jumpers I’d love to replace are a grid of 3×5 and 3×6 respectively that set the memory addressing for the ROM module on the z80. I lose jumpers constantly, which is why a bank of dip switches came to mind.
Are you using pin headers with the slide-on jumpers?
That’s what was delivered with the kit. I’m hoping to improve on the usability.
Looks like there are miniature slide switches available for 0.100″ spacing
Slide Switch
W00T!
Thank you again.
Should be getting my “unaccompanied baggage” delivered to hotel room tomorrow. Need to have a few normal pots and pans and I can start making eggs and normal meals – and not just microwave stuff after the last 3 months….
Also, maybe some hobbying/models when I get my portable lamp and cutting mat.
Get a few pictures of your work with some italy in the background.
Get on up!
😄👷🏽♂️🌨️
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0yBnIUX0QAE
🎶🎶
I’ve been up. You’re late.
🥸
Good morning Sean, U, Roat, and Plink, and good afternoon, Fishy!
Morning, How goes it?
Slowly, if one is daft enough to go outside. Most area counties are under Level 2 snow emergencies (out of 3 levels,) so I’ll be shocked (and annoyed) if my employer isn’t at least delayed today. 🌨️🌨️🌨️🌨️🌨️🌨️
Stay safe, stay warm. Look after the kitties.
The DMV is mostly closed because of weather.
What is this white stuff we regularly get in winter?
Cocaine?
No wonder it felt cold today, it was in the low teens outside.
A little chilly (-4) this morning but the ground is bare. Never have seen such a snowless winter, though last year was snow free ’til about this time . Even the cold day (1) was short lived. More seasonal now but good to see the “Ol’ Fashioned Winters” are temporarily passe’.
Yay, new glasses this afternoon!
Stay safe, stay warm.
Good morning, 4(20)! SW OH could probably spare you some snow right now. How about just enough to look pretty?
Hope your new glasses give you score/score vision! 👓🤓
” just enough to look pretty?”
Eyes of the beholder…
It’s 20 F this morning, yesterday it was 65.
End User: *requests Read-Only Access*
End User: Does this access allow us to make changes?
🤦♂️
“Only in your mind.”
OK, just got the word – we’re opening at noon, which means I’m supposed to get to work by 11:30 a.m.
I think I’ll wait until it’s actually light outside before starting to clean off my car, the driveway, and the front walk. ::searches in vain for a shovel emoji::
🧹
Close enough?
I have a snow shovel and ice scraper next to the front door. Glad I have a garage.
Did you have freezing rain before the snow, GT? Careful walking.
Uncareful walking can be dangerous to your health.
No freezing rain before or after the snow, as far as I know. Retrieved my scraper from the car before the snow started, so it’s in the garage. I’ll be careful – especially watching out for the dips in the blacktop where my front tires usually land. (I backed out and scooted over so there’ll be room for the snow blower to roll out of the garage.)
Morning, all.
“Feels like 12”
Time to break out the big parka.
Stay safe out there, snowy Glibs.
Good morning, slummy!
Overlooking the fact that you were using actual quotation marks, I initially thought you were saying something felt like 12 inches. I’m not going to go there.