COUNTER/Weight 00: If Han Solo Used To Be Beyoncé, or: Hashtag Otechku

This episode carries content warnings for a corpse, an animal feeding on flesh, claustrophobia, broken bones, death from immobility and implied starvation, fingernails, a body in a sack, animal sacrifice, burning, a severed limb, animal slaughter, dissociation, and mental confusion. Having found their way through the chapel beneath Blackwick's ruined abbey, the Blackwick Group continue their search for Janek Polyte and the mysterious magistrate who seems to be with him. From the bottom of a pit of salt, the group must find a way up a cliff face and back onto their prey's tail—all while making sense of the strange new place they've found themselves in. In the distance, a bell rings, and a ritual begins. This week on Sangfielle: The Hymn of the Mother-Beast Pt. 2 The Almanac of the Heartland Rider Places Blackwick County: From the mines to the lake, the hills to the flats, the town once called Eastern Folly has felt a little more expansive now that it's out of the hard grip of the old curse. It's people aren't perfect, but they've made it through some dark times, and that's more than most can say. The Second Canton, aka The Pale Magistratum (ma-juh-strah-tuhm): The Second Canton has ordered itself around its Magistrates—holy marshals given weapons blessed by Fulmina, goddess of immediate justice, and the right to use that power as they see it. Free Seas of Kay'va, formerly the Fourth Canton (kai-vah): First established after Cecile Cartine's revolution over 300 years ago, today Kay'va is home to a collection of aligned communes who swear that the only way to prosperity is through the defense of equality. The Residuum: A realm of vibrant color, where the things of the world go when their time in the material world fades away. A plane of death, but rendered in glorious light. Facts and Figures Janek Polyte (he/him): A Drakkan member of Blackwick County's youth community, and a member of the group who went beneath the Abbey's ruins a year ago. Quiet in public, and little kept in his humble home. The Shape: Are the trains that run across the Heartland bound to the Structure, or do they direct it? Is the overlap between the two even real at all, or might two machinic forces be at work here in Sangfielle? Organizations The Telluricist Union: Made up by a mix of peoples driven to the hills by Aldomina, this group of knife sharpeners, herbalists, geologists, and all around investigators have made it their job to keep their old wisdom and see it used to help those in need. The best among them are called Keen. The Shape Knights: It took people with clear minds, great ingenuity, and implacable spirit to face down and defeat one of the living trains of Sangfielle. In the time since, they've crafted armor from their slain foe, and with that have come to be experts of all things train. They herd, they breach, they redirect. But they haven't yet killed a second. Ephemera A hymn found in the notes of Janek Polyte Her love is vast and nourishing. Her glory does astound. Thus in sin we're flourishing, Tis sin to which we're bound. With words we weave her love and ours, And with our voices breathe: A halt to death, a halt to stars, A halt to what will be. But listen, Mother-Beast, please know: Tis love by which we've wrought A world in which you're split in woe, Instead of merely nought Your love is vast and flourishing. Your glory does astound. Bless us with tears nourishing. We'll drink until we're drowned. Hosted by Austin Walker (@austin_walker) Featuring Janine Hawkins (@bleatingheart) Sylvi Clare (@sylvibullet), Ali Acampora (@ali_west), Art Martinez-Tebbel (@atebbel), Jack de Quidt (@notquitereal), Keith J Carberry (@keithjcarberry) and Andrew Lee Swan (@swandre3000) Produced by Ali Acampora and Austin Walker Music by Jack de Quidt (available on bandcamp) Text by Austin Walker Cover Art by Craig Sheldon (@shoddyrobot) A transcription is available for this episode here.A full list of completed transcriptions is available here. Our transcriptions are provided by a fan-organized paid transcription project. If you'd like to join, you can get more information at https://twitter.com/transcript_fatt. Thank you to all of our transcribers!!

15 Huhti 20211h 21min

This episode carries content warnings for discussion of cigarettes, rotting flesh, animal corpse, aggressive animal, knives, gun use. One year after the people of Blackwick County (then Eastern Folly) broke a curse that had plagued the town for generations, a group of strange and determined professionals arrived. Explorers, investigators, wardens of nature and culture and everything in between. They'd come to answer the call for folks just like them, people who could ensure the town wouldn't fall under the sway of any other supernatural threat. And just a few days after they arrived, they got their first job. Janek Polyte, one of the town youths who wandered down underneath the Abbey a year ago and found the egg sac (which now rests nestled and pulsating near the mine's entry), has gone missing. And witnesses place him at the Abbey's underground entrance before he vanished. And so, the Blackwick Group heads off to their first job. Explore the under-ruins of the Abbey, locate the missing Drakkan kid, and figure out what in the name of the heartland is going on down there to begin with... This week on Sangfielle: The Hymn of the Mother-Beast Pt. 1 The Almanac of the Heartland Rider Peoples Caprak (cap-ROK): The goat folks of the northlands, where they put up with dust, ash, snow, and the unilateral "justice" of the Pale Magistratum. Carpana (car - pahn - a): They're little folks, three to four feet tall or so. A little like capybara, I suppose. Devils: Once, they were contained by (and made to administer) some vast network of hells. But they fought their way out, took over Aldomina, and nurtured a fledgling empire into an expansive one. Drakkan (drah-KAHN): I've always thought we look like seahorses. Skin pulled across spiny, exo-skeletal armor. Bright colors. Good looking. Heritrixes (hare-uh-trixes): Heritrixes are immaterial beings, sometimes confused for ghosts, demons, or other sorts of supernatural spirits, who enter into contracts with physical hosts. Human: A smooth-skinned, hornless type of person, mostly found in the Heartland and in the Unschola Republica these days. Unremarkable. "Except in variety," you'll often hear a human say, revealing only that they're more prideful than wise. Ojantani: The Ojantani, who share traits with buffalo and water oxen, are as often melancholic or timorous as they are the loud, stereotypical minotaur sort. Places Blackwick County: From the mines to the lake, the hills to the flats, the town once called Eastern Folly has felt a little more expansive now that it's out of the hard grip of the old curse. It's people aren't perfect, but they've made it through some dark times, and that's more than most can say. Aldomina (al-doh-mee-nah): What once stood as the name of the whole continent is now only the name of the Confederation that runs across the eastern half of the territory surrounding the Sangfielle, currently constituted by three sub-states called Cantons. The First Canton, aka the Throne of Dominion: Once a fledgling human empire but nearly 1900 years ago, a minor duke of some great hell led an effort to take it over. And once they did, they pushed what was an already spreading empire even further in that direction. The Second Canton, aka The Pale Magistratum (ma-juh-strah-tuhm): The Second Canton has ordered itself around its Magistrates—holy marshals given weapons blessed by Fulmina, goddess of immediate justice, and the right to use that power as they see it. Unschola Republica, formerly the Third Canton (oon-skoh-la): For a millenia, the alchemists, mage-practitioners, and cryptotheological scholars of the Third Canton complained in secret about the leash kept on them by Aldomina's distant leaders. They've since slipped that leash, and whether that's for better or worse, time will tell. Free Seas of Kay'va, formerly the Fourth Canton (kai-vah): First established after Cecile Cartine's revolution over 300 years ago, today Kay'va is home to a collection of aligned communes who swear that the only way to prosperity is through the defense of equality. The Fifth Canton, the Protectorate Kingdom of Ojantan (oh-JAHN-tahn): Ojantan was once a kingdom to rival Aldomina, and a solid place to live to boot, if a little over-structured for my taste. But the Devils got to the nation's leaders, and now it's been reduced to another Canton in the Empress' collection. Sangfielle, the Heartland: Once, it was a breadbasket for the whole Dominion, now this is territory haunted twice: first by a bloody, buried past, and second by an uncanny, indifferent future. Concentus, the Ringed City (kun-CHEN-tus): A vast ringed city surrounding (and containing) Sangfielle. Covered in magical wards, filled with those eager to delve into the heartland or to push back its most fearsome creatures. The gaslit city of Concentus is now the most technologically advanced metropolis of the continent. The Residuum: A realm of vibrant color, where the things of the world go when their time in the material world fades away. A plane of death, but rendered in glorious light. Facts and Figures Janek Polyte (he/him): A Drakkan member of Blackwick County's youth community, and a member of the group who went beneath the Abbey's ruins a year ago. Quiet in public, and little kept in his humble home. Proctor Ekashi Wolff (he/him): A leading member of the Triadic Pyre in Blackwick County, whose heritage and faith have led him to close communion with the Arinpata, the Ojantani "Smiling God of Death," who also serves as the Triadic Pyre's God of Ashen Remains. Ekashi is an Ojantani himself, but was born and raised here in Blackwick, and has spent his life trying to keep it safe and stable. Though if you ask me, I have to wonder if he really cares about Blackwich, or if he just sees it as a place of sturdy form that can usher the world into fire peacefully. The Shape: Are the trains that run across the Heartland bound to the Structure, or do they direct it? Is the overlap between the two even real at all, or might two machinic forces be at work here in Sangfielle? Arinpata (they/them): A slim being of joyous countenance and many heights, whose painted face guides souls to the Residuum. Or so they say. Organizations The Disciples of the Triadic Pyre: Appropriately devoted to a trio of gods, the Triadic Pyre believe that entropy is the only certain thing in this world, and as such aim to master it. Recently began to mark workers willing to do their tasks in the mines with their brand. The Telluricist Union: Made up by a mix of peoples driven to the hills by Aldomina, this group of knife sharpeners, herbalists, geologists, and all around investigators have made it their job to keep their old wisdom and see it used to help those in need. The best among them are called Keen. The Shape Knights: It took people with clear minds, great ingenuity, and implacable spirit to face down and defeat one of the living trains of Sangfielle. In the time since, they've crafted armor from their slain foe, and with that have come to be experts of all things train. They herd, they breach, they redirect. But they haven't yet killed a second. Hosted by Austin Walker (@austin_walker) Featuring Janine Hawkins (@bleatingheart) Sylvi Clare (@sylvibullet), Ali Acampora (@ali_west), Art Martinez-Tebbel (@atebbel), Jack de Quidt (@notquitereal), Keith J Carberry (@keithjcarberry) and Andrew Lee Swan (@swandre3000) Produced by Ali Acampora and Austin Walker Music by Jack de Quidt (available on bandcamp) Text by Austin Walker Cover Art by Craig Sheldon (@shoddyrobot)

9 Huhti 20212h 38min

This episode carries content warnings for discussion of knives, possession, insect infestation of a living person, death, animal slaughter, being buried alive, and drowning. It has been one year since the folks of Eastern Folly put an end to a generations-long curse, and a few months fewer since a vote brought a new name to the town and its environs: Blackwick County. The name was a compromise, evoking not only the darkening embers of the Triadic Pyre's ashen dogma, but also the warmth and comfort of night at home coming to its end with a little prayer to Slumbous. Name ain't the only changed in that town, though. As the days went on, and the understanding that the curse had been broken was felt more firmly, it seemed as both miners and townsfolk let themselves dream of further futures than they had before. Some folks settled down to start families, others sent word for friends and relatives to move to this newly prosperous burg. New business sprung up, and not all of them made it through the year, sure, but more than you'd think. This was a community that was only just now starting to know itself. The sort of town you heard about and thought was made up. A place really, truly, on the upswing. Even the trains seemed to be reliable, more or less. But the powers that be, so to speak, they knew better than to rest on laurels, no matter whose they were. I mean… Skeletal emissaries. Miners going deeper into the mountain. Sounds below the abbey. The damned egg. Can you blame them for putting out the call? Can you blame them for bringing together the Blackwick Group? This week on Sangfielle: The Blackwick Group The Almanac of the Heartland Rider Peoples Caprak (cap-ROK): The goat folks of the northlands, where they put up with dust, ash, snow, and the unilateral "justice" of the Pale Magistratum. Carpana (car - pahn - a): They're little folks, three to four feet tall or so. A little like capybara, I suppose. Devils: Once, they were contained by (and made to administer) some vast network of hells. But they fought their way out, took over Aldomina, and nurtured a fledgling empire into an expansive one. Drakkan (drah-KAHN): I've always thought we look like seahorses. Skin pulled across spiny, exo-skeletal armor. Bright colors. Good looking. Heritrixes (hare-uh-trixes): Heritrixes are immaterial beings, sometimes confused for ghosts, demons, or other sorts of supernatural spirits, who enter into contracts with physical hosts. Human: A smooth-skinned, hornless type of person, mostly found in the Heartland and in the Unschola Republica these days. Unremarkable. "Except in variety," you'll often hear a human say, revealing only that they're more prideful than wise. Ojantani: The Ojantani, who share traits with buffalo and water oxen, are as often melancholic or timorous as they are the loud, stereotypical minotaur sort. Places Blackwick County: From the mines to the lake, the hills to the flats, the town once called Eastern Folly has felt a little more expansive now that it's out of the hard grip of the old curse. It's people aren't perfect, but they've made it through some dark times, and that's more than most can say. The Sleeping City: Every 13 years, a metropolis wakes with the buzzing sound of life. Do not cross its borders uninvited, especially not when it and its inhabitants are at rest. Facts and Figures The Course: There is debate about the true nature of the Heartland's Truth, the power that turned Sangfielle into what it is today. But the Cleavers call it the Course. Part river, part lesson, part direction traveled. Entirely beyond the grasp of mortal minds. The Structure: Reason, logic, sense. The world is, fundamentally, a place that fits together and functions. We may not like that, say the adherents of the structure. And sometimes, the world may move in ways beyond our particular ken. But there is something holding it together, and that, they say, is the Heartland's Truth: The Structure. The Shape: Are the trains that run across the Heartland bound to the Structure, or do they direct it? Is the overlap between the two even real at all, or might two machinic forces be at work here in Sangfielle?. Es (she/they): A heritrix with a penchant for the finer things in life and the perilous ventures needed to earn them. Virtue Mondegreen (she/her): Virtue was supposed to have been killed in the great vampiric purge, years before the panic. But it's like I said before, Sangfielle was strange long before the Devils noticed it. Marn Ancura (she/her): Recently raised to Keen status inside of the Telluricist Union, Marn's en route to Blackwick with aims to help folks the best she can (and solve one of the great medical mysteries of the heartland). Chine (he/they): The only member of the Blackwick Group to be born in Eastern Folly, Chine was called out to by the truth of the heartland. Duvall (he/him): Born into one of the few human families who still have noble status in Aldomina, Duvall wasted his inheritance on a doomed adventure into Sangfielle. Now colonized by the insectoid servants of the Structure, Duvall searches to solve a question as old as people: What is "the self"? Pickman (she/her): Fifteen years. That's how long Pickman spent on the train. After being rescued by a Shape Knight, she found herself compelled to take up the armor and join their cause—a reaction that puts her in good company, as many other knights did just the same. Lye "Lyke" Lychen (he/him): Tossed out of one of the many occult academies of the Unschola Republica, Lyke came to Sangfielle to continue his magical education in the most hands-on (and pockets-full) way he could. Organizations The Boundless Conclave: Less of an individual church, more of an association between hundreds of independent faiths. Small sects, nearly forgotten cults, and unjealous gods make up this vast pantheon. The Disciples of the Triadic Pyre: Appropriately devoted to a trio of gods, the Triadic Pyre believe that entropy is the only certain thing in this world, and as such aim to master it. Recently began to mark workers willing to do their tasks in the mines with their brand. The Telluricist Union: Made up by a mix of peoples driven to the hills by Aldomina, this group of knife sharpeners, herbalists, geologists, and all around investigators have made it their job to keep their old wisdom and see it used to help those in need. The best among them are called Keen. The Shape Knights: It took people with clear minds, great ingenuity, and implacable spirit to face down and defeat one of the living trains of Sangfielle. In the time since, they've crafted armor from their slain foe, and with that have come to be experts of all things train. They herd, they breach, they redirect. But they haven't yet killed a second. Hosted by Austin Walker (@austin_walker) Featuring Janine Hawkins (@bleatingheart) Sylvi Clare (@sylvibullet), Ali Acampora (@ali_west), Art Martinez-Tebbel (@atebbel), Jack de Quidt (@notquitereal), Keith J Carberry (@keithjcarberry) and Andrew Lee Swan (@swandre3000) Produced by Ali Acampora and Austin Walker Music by Jack de Quidt (available on bandcamp) Text by Austin Walker Cover Art by Craig Sheldon (@shoddyrobot) A transcription is available for this episode here.A full list of completed transcriptions is available here. Our transcriptions are provided by a fan-organized paid transcription project. If you'd like to join, you can get more information at https://twitter.com/transcript_fatt. Thank you to all of our transcribers!!

2 Huhti 20213h 2min

This episode carries content warnings for human death, teeth, knives, possession, human branding One day of strange occurrences is, in some ways, a blessing. Good dinner time conversation. The stuff of campfire stories. Two ill-fated days? That's a warning and a courtesy. The troubled cough that precedes illness. An opportunity for you to prepare for worse. But three cursed days in a row? That's where you really have to worry, because it ain't just one thing. Three cursed days in a row is as often the end to a little township as it is the sign of a great dynasty's rise. With one or two, you've got a hex, maybe some begrudged witch or local spirit who wasn't paid its due. With three, you've got a blank page. And from writer to reader, let me tell you: Ain't nothing scarier than that. This week on Sangfielle: The Cursed of Eastern Folly Pt. 3 The Almanac of the Heartland Rider Peoples The Tooth Trolls: Every year, right around harvest time, the trolls climb up out from the lake and do their gardening by the shoreline. Every few years, some strapping and brash showoff goes "to show them who really owns this land." Only thing is, they find out they had the answer wrong. Don't pay 'em no mind, and you'll be fine. The Lake Skeletons: What is there to know, as of yet. Rivalrous. Boisterous. See right through 'em. Places The Waterlogged Kingdom: At least that's what we're calling it for now. Deep under the water, an empress waits. There's been debate: Did they turn the wood from her sunken ship into a palace for her? Build castles out of the lake sand? Maybe they never stopped marching, and they're down there right now, just going round in circles. An likely area of inquiry, for certain Facts and Figures The Sunken Empress Altapasqua (she/her): Around fifty years after the panic set in, Altapasqua told her people she would ride across this cursed land and purge it of its disease and danger. She only made it about three fourths of the way. And well, it's as expected. She was down there ever since. Slumbous (any): A minor god of the Boundless Conclave, who is associated with the ritual practice of putting one's candles out at night, but whose domains extend beyond that to include the more general realm of routines of care and rituals of restfulness. Often depicted in a big, crooked hat. Snuffos (he/him): An even more minor god recognized by the Boundless Conclave, who decides whether to put out candles that tired people forget to snuff out before bed themselves. A petty god in more ways than one. Marisha (she/her): The previous attendant of the small Boundless Conclave temple in town. A caprak woman in her 50s, and a quiet fixture to the town. Stanislaka (she/they): Marisha's replacement, the new attendant of the Boundless Conclave temple, an young ojantani whose faith to Slumbous knows no bounds. Organizations The Boundless Conclave: Less of an individual church, more of an association between hundreds of independent faiths. Small sects, nearly forgotten cults, and unjealous gods make up this vast pantheon. The Disciples of the Triadic Pyre: Appropriately devoted to a trio of gods, the Triadic Pyre believe that entropy is the only certain thing in this world, and as such aim to master it. Recently began to mark workers willing to do their tasks in the mines with their brand. A transcription is available for this episode here.A full list of completed transcriptions is available here. Our transcriptions are provided by a fan-organized paid transcription project. If you'd like to join, you can get more information at https://twitter.com/transcript_fatt. Thank you to all of our transcribers!!

25 Maalis 20212h 20min

This episode carries content warnings for human death, discussion of cannibalism, the death of animals, knives, and knifework. The suns rise on Eastern Folly as another day begins. High in the trees, the fruit grows ever so slightly riper. And as the fruit grows larger and warmer in color, so too do the spirits of the people of the town. Miners haul back their finds with a grin, eager to flip this ironing board or that collection of ancient coins to whichever consignment shop or heartland broker makes the best deal. Main street shopkeeps give their customers an extra 5% off—a friends and family discount, they say, and ain't we all friends and family here? Fishers wave to their families as their boats come in, blessed by afternoon light. Except the light… the light is touched so, today. A shade of green, not yet sickly but pale and concerning. And under the abbey, it moves. This week on Sangfielle: The Curse of Eastern Folly Pt. 2 The Alamanac of the Heartland Rider Peoples Caprak (cap-ROK): The goat folks of the northlands, where they put up with dust, ash, snow, and the unilateral "justice" of the Pale Magistratum. Carpana (car - pahn - a): They're little folks, three to four feet tall or so. A little like capybara, I suppose. Devils: Once, they were contained by (and made to administer) some vast network of hells. But they fought their way out, took over Aldomina, and nurtured a fledgling empire into an expansive one. Drakkan (drah-KAHN): I've always thought we look like seahorses. Skin pulled across spiny, exo-skeletal armor. Bright colors. Good looking. Heritrixes (hare-uh-trixes): Heritrixes are immaterial beings, sometimes confused for ghosts, demons, or other sorts of supernatural spirits, who enter into contracts with physical hosts. Human: A smooth-skinned, hornless type of person, mostly found in the Heartland and in the Unschola Republica these days. Unremarkable. "Except in variety," you'll often hear a human say, revealing only that they're more prideful than wise. Ojantani: The Ojantani, who share traits with buffalo and water oxen, are as often melancholic or timorous as they are the loud, stereotypical minotaur sort. Places ALDOMINA (al-doh-mee-nah): What once stood as the name of the whole continent is now only the name of the Confederation that runs across the eastern half of the territory surrounding the Sangfielle, currently constituted by three sub-states called Cantons. The First Canton, aka the Throne of Dominion: Once a fledgling human empire but nearly 1900 years ago, a minor duke of some great hell led an effort to take it over. And once they did, they pushed what was an already spreading empire even further in that direction. The Second Canton, aka The Pale Magistratum (ma-juh-strah-tuhm): The Second Canton has ordered itself around its Magistrates—holy marshals given weapons blessed by Fulmina, goddess of immediate justice, and the right to use that power as they see it. Unschola Republica, formerly the Third Canton (oon-skoh-la): For a millenia, the alchemists, mage-practitioners, and cryptotheological scholars of the Third Canton complained in secret about the leash kept on them by Aldomina's distant leaders. They've since slipped that leash, and whether that's for better or worse, time will tell. Free Seas of Kay'va, formerly the Fourth Canton (kai-vah): First established after Cecile Cartine's revolution over 300 years ago, today Kay'va is home to a collection of aligned communes who swear that the only way to prosperity is through the defense of equality. The Fifth Canton, the Protectorate Kingdom of Ojantan (oh-JAHN-tahn): Ojantan was once a kingdom to rival Aldomina, and a solid place to live to boot, if a little over-structured for my taste. But the Devils got to the nation's leaders, and now it's been reduced to another Canton in the Empress' collection. Sangfielle, the Heartland: Once, it was a breadbasket for the whole Dominion, now this is territory haunted twice: first by a bloody, buried past, and second by an uncanny, indifferent future. Concentus, the Ringed City (kun-CHEN-tus): A vast ringed city surrounding (and containing) Sangfielle. Covered in magical wards, filled with those eager to delve into the heartland or to push back its most fearsome creatures. The gaslit city of Concentus is now the most technologically advanced metropolis of the continent. Eastern Folly: A little mining town, touched by the heartland's truth. Facts and Figures The Harvest Festival: A yearly celebration of the fruit harvest in Eastern Folly, marked by folk plays, parades, and music. It nears... Janek Polyte: Among the group of 20-somethings who went down into the strange 'basement' of the old Abbey, Janek is the one who found himself pulled most closely to sights beyond… and to the cursed object they found on the altar. Organizations The Telluricist Union: When Aldomina expanded its empire into the heartland, it did so with conquest in mind and weapons in hand. They faced resistance of course. The peoples who'd lived here—people who today we'd call Carpana, Ojantani, Drakkan, and many others besides—had done so for thousands of years even before the Devils had escaped hell, and they weren't eager to see their ways of life destroyed. Nevertheless, they lost that fight. Many were killed directly, others enslaved, and some driven to barren lands in the hills, mountains, and wastes. The Telluricist Union comes from a group of the latter. A group of survivors, largely though not entirely Carpana, pulled together to survivor against all odds, combining know-how from this nation and that tribe, and developing new techniques and tools to make a hard life a little more livable. They sharpened knives, they aided the ill, they made elegantly simple machines, they studied the world around them. And then the Panic hit, the truth of the Heartland became increasingly loud. They lost folks in the chaos. But in the end, that only tempered their will to survive and maintain. The Telluricist Union, and the ones they call the Keen, were formed thereafter. Something like 300 members at any given time. People dedicated not only to keeping that old wisdom around, but to see it used to help folks in need. The Boundless Conclave: Less of an individual church, more of an association between hundreds of independent faiths. Small sects, nearly forgotten cults, and unjealous gods make up this vast pantheon. The Caravan of the Coin: Cursed by Ribbadon, Frog God of Wealth, these traveling merchant-clerics never arrive at a destination carrying what they expect. The Disciples of the Triadic Pyre: Appropriately devoted to a trio of gods, the Triadic Pyre believe that entropy is the only certain thing in this world, and as such aim to master it. Hosted by Austin Walker (@austin_walker) Featuring Janine Hawkins (@bleatingheart) Sylvi Clare (@sylvibullet), Ali Acampora (@ali_west), Art Martinez-Tebbel (@atebbel), Jack de Quidt (@notquitereal), Keith J Carberry (@keithjcarberry) and Andrew Lee Swan (@swandre3000) Produced by Ali Acampora and Austin Walker Music by Jack de Quidt (available on bandcamp) Text by Austin Walker Cover Art by Craig Sheldon (@shoddyrobot) A transcription is available for this episode here.A full list of completed transcriptions is available here. Our transcriptions are provided by a fan-organized paid transcription project. If you'd like to join, you can get more information at https://twitter.com/transcript_fatt. Thank you to all of our transcribers!!

18 Maalis 20211h 34min

This episode carries content warnings for discussion of death and an allusion to drowning. Welcome to Sangfielle. This episode marks not only the beginning of a new season for us, but a whole new world. For the last six years, our main series campaigns have mostly taken part in one of two worlds, even though they sometimes have huge time jumps and setting resets in them. So, if you're just jumping on, this is a pretty good place to do it. You'll be along for the ride with everyone else, with no old continuity to worry about. New characters, new places, new world. So, what is this world? What is Sangfielle? Well, the big picture is what I say in this episode's intro: Once, this was the agriculutural heartland of a vast empire which had slowly conquered this continent. Then, about 200 years ago, things started changing, and what was already a somewhat magical world became cursed and increasingly detatched from "reality." Now it's a sort of re-frontier, with touches of dark fantasy, a bit of gothic and cosmic horror, some weird west and southern gothic flair, and a little bit of general mystery on top for good measure. That's all you really need to know. Yes, there is a history to this continent, one of imperial devils, slave revolts, unchained magical scholars, black-clad magistrates... it goes on and on. And all of that is fine and good, and you can read a bit about it below and hear us talk about it towards the start of the episode. But none of it really matters. Think of the big lore dump as a bonus, but there won't be a pop quiz or a test. What matters is what's in front of us. And what's in front of us is a strange little mining town in the northern hills. And today, using The Ground Itself by Everest Pipkin, we're going to learn about that town. And in just a few weeks, we'll use this little town as a home base (or a "Haven" in the nomenclature of Heart: The City Beneath by Grant Howitt and Christopher Taylor) for all sorts of adventure. Before we get there, though, we start here, with a patch of land, some caves, and time. This week on Sangfielle: The Curse of Eastern Folly Pt. 1 The Alamanac of the Heartland Rider Peoples Caprak (cap-ROK): The goat folks of the north put up with a lot. Dust, ash, snow. Rocky mountains with very little arable soil. They made it work, but it was the fear of all the ways it might fail that led to the Magistratum. Carpana (car - pahn - a): Back before Aldomnia strode across Sangfielle, the Carpana were one of the many peoples who lived here. They're little folks, three to four feet tall or so. A little like capybara, I suppose. They used to make their homes in the trees, well, not the trees per se, but in villages built on and between the branches of the lake-side forests across the heartland. Seemed like it was a good life. Lots of fruit, maybe some fish from the lakes? Little communities of 30 or 40. Anyway, then Aldomina came in, pushed them and so many others to the most barren parts of the mountains. After the panic, some moved back to their homes, but others had found new ways to live. That's how it goes. Devils: It's hard to speak to devils writ large, since the only devils I've ever met are those from Aldomina, and maybe those still in hell are different. But of those I've met, I've happened across two distinct varieties. The first are those who come from the Throne of Dominion itself, and they're haughty bastards always searching for a new way to demean you. The second are those who, when the panic hit, got left behind. What must it be like, I wonder, when your "grand civilization" reveals that you're no different than the rest of the muck it left to die? It ain't as bad as what we went through, that's for sure, but still, you meet the devils (and their descendents) that call the heartland home, and you can tell they carry that betrayal on them like a mark. Drakkan (drah-KAHN): They say we descended from the legendary dragons from some more wondrous age, but I don't know that I buy it. I've always thought we look like seahorses. Skin pulled across spiny, exo-skeletal armor. Many of us spent generations enslaved by Aldomina, who put us to work across Sangfielle, only to be left to its devices when the panic set in. Thankfully, in the southwest, we've taken a home for ourselves, and one day, once the almanac is complete, I hope to make it back there. Heritrixes (hare-uh-trixes): Heritrixes are immaterial beings, sometimes confused for ghosts, demons, or other sorts of supernatural spirits, who enter into contracts with physical hosts. In exchange for their expertise and magical power, Heritrixes are allowed to take control of the host's body for an agreed upon period of time, giving them a way to experience the material world. I'd say that I wouldn't sign an agreement like that, but who's to know? Human: A smooth-skinned, hornless type of person, mostly found in the Heartland and in the Unschola Republica these days. Unremarkable. "Except in variety," you'll often hear a human say, revealing only that they're more prideful than wise. Ojantani: Bigness doesn't always mean boisterousness. The Ojantani, who share traits with buffalo and water oxen the way I do with the colorful seahorses of the Kay'van seas, are as often melancholic or timorous as they are the loud, stereotypical minotaur sort. If there is a cultural trait among the Ojantani I've been fortunate enough to ride with, it's that they are always interested in how things fit together, and in whether or not something (or someone) has found its proper place—met with dignity and value—in this world. Places ALDOMINA (al-doh-mee-nah): What once stood as the name of the whole continent is now only the name of the Confederation that runs across the eastern half of the territory surrounding the Sangfielle, currently constituted by three sub-states called Cantons. The First Canton, aka the Throne of Dominion: Once a fledgling human empire but nearly 1900 years ago, a minor duke of some great hell led an effort to take it over. Who can blame them, the hells seem like a bad place to be. So, they took this once human empire over through a combination of bargaining, subterfuge, and force. And once they did it, and pushed what was an already spreading empire even further in that direction. The Second Canton, aka The Pale Magistratum (ma-juh-strah-tuhm): If Aldomina has a superego, it is the Pale Magistratum. Though its populace now lives in dense cities, the first settlers of the ash-and-snow covered Second Canton led hardscrabble lives. In order to enforce rationing and harshly punish anyone who directly or indirectly harmed a member of a settlement, the culture ordered itself around its Magistrates—holy marshals given weapons blessed by Fulmina, goddess of immediate justice, and the right to use that power as they see fit. Today, these Magistrates exist in a complex hierarchy, but even the lowest ranking members of the order are fearsome arbiters of what they perceive as justice. Unschola Republica, formerly the Third Canton (oon-skoh-la): For a millenia, the alchemists, mage-practitioners, and cryptotheological scholars of the Third Canton complained in secret about the leash kept on them by Aldomina's distant leaders. In their towering universities, they taught approved curricula but hid their most occult research, biding their time for a day they could split away from the confederation. And when the Drakkan revolted, they found their opportunity, using the Kay'van uprising as a cover for their own split. Can't blame them for that, but I'll always remember that it was opportunity, and not morality, that led them to side with us. Free Seas of Kay'va, formerly the Fourth Canton (kai-vah): Kay'va means "Our House," and there could be no better name for my homeland. We call it "The Free Seas," but it's actually a free association of communes, which we first established after our revolt over 300 years ago. Led by rebel slave and autodidact Cecile Cartine—founder of the worker-collectivist ideology which came to be known as Cartinism—not only did we managed to establish autonomy, but we also shook the very foundations of a damn near millennia old empire in the process. When it came time to build Concentus, the ringed city, I suppose we wanted to prove that it could do just as well, if not better, than any of the other nations of the continent. Which is probably why our chunk of the city is so often decorated with the flag of the revolution: a blue field, with golden sextant and machete connecting the waves to the stars. The Fifth Canton, the Protectorate Kingdom of Ojantan (oh-JAHN-tahn): The most recent Canton of Aldomina, added only around 350 years ago, just a generation before the Kay'van revolt. Previous to that, Ojantan was its own rival kingdom, stretching across the southern half of the continent. Because of being so recently conquered, the Ojantani dragged their feet and sabotaged efforts to move forces through their land towards Kay'va strongholds, contributing to the success of the revolution. In the old days, Ojantani was a solid place to live. Each person—even the living embodiments of their god folk—found their place in a grand social diagram. Unfortunately, sounds like some folks wanted to draw that diagram a little different. Sangfielle, the Heartland: Fought over for centuries, Aldomina rose to prominence millenia ago when it finally conquered this fertile land. A breadbasket for the whole Dominion, each canton once had part of the territory (though the Throne kept most of it for itself). This is territory haunted twice: first by a bloody, buried past, and second by an uncanny, indifferent future. Many fled, but many more did not have that luxury. Today, two centuries later, the heartland has become a re-frontier, a home to survivors clinging to each other and to those explorers, occultists, technologists, and devotees of the strange, called to this land of ash, metal, and ichor. Concentus, the Ringed City (kun-CHEN-tus): When the panic set in, the five great states responded in kind. For the first time since the Kay'van revolution, delegates from each power met and agreed that something must be done to contain the ill wind sweeping across the once verdant country. And so, Concentus was built as a collaboration. A vast ringed city, covered in magical wards, filled with those eager to delve into the heartland or to push back its most fearsome creatures. Because of relics and inventions recovered from the depths of the heartland, the gaslit city of Concentus is now the most technologically advanced metropolis of the continent. And yet, each moonrise feels like it may be the last... Eastern Folly: A little mining town, touched by the heartland's truth. Facts and Figures The Empress Altapasqua: Around fifty years after the panic set in, Altapasqua told her people she would ride across this cursed land and purge it of its disease and danger. She only made it about three fourths of the way. The Panic: People from the Cantons, people who didn't live here already, like to think that this all started about 200 years ago, but that's really just when the panic set in. First they noticed the soil had turned. Then it was the water. Then it was the dead walking, the ground slipping away. Then they got afraid. They call it "the panic," I think because it's easier to swallow than facing it head on and calling it what it is: "The Truth." Organizations The Boundless Conclave: Spread across the heartland, this religion is a (some say cynical) collection of hundreds of other faiths. Small sects, nearly forgotten cults, and unjealous gods make up this vast pantheon. As a lay member, you are allowed to use the facilities of any associated place of worship. As practicing clergy, joining the Conclave costs you some percentage of your tithe, but joins you to a network of other practitioners, places your god among the exalted many, and guarantees you at least some parishioners. In some ways, to join the Conclave is to make a bet: At least some of this stuff must be real, right? May as well throw in with everyone else and make the best of it. The Caravan of the Coin: It goes like this: Once, a pair of brothers wanted an ox, and so they did what they were told never to do. They made a deal with Ribbadon, the great Frog God of Wealth. "Give us a silver coin," they said, and he did, on the condition that they return the coin that year, or else owe it and its double the next year, and so on, forever. Well, they bought the ox, and with that ox they bought a pair more, and soon they appeared quite rich. I write "appeared" because, in fact, they were deeply indebted to old Ribbadon. As the two grew in age and worry, they sought to make good on their debt, but there was one problem: They had, of course, spent that silver coin many decades ago, so they were at a loss. Until, they realized, with all their wealth, they could forge a coin like the one they were given, and fool the old frog. Wheelbarrows filled with silver and gold were led to Ribbadon's court, and in a single swipe of his tongue, he swallowed years of profit in an instant, and then bellowed his judgment. "You have paid me back one more coin than you owe me, yet one less than you took." The brothers knew instantly that their deception had been for naught, but before they could object, a curse descended. "There is no fortune too rich in taste for my tongue, and until I have my coin, on your tongues will be the only way to hold your fortune." When the brothers, their kin, their descendents, and even their servants returned home, they found that anything they'd carried with them had been turned into something else of the same weight. Gold coins turned lead. Prayer books transformed into straw. A rock to a diamond. This is why you see those caravans now, hauling mysterious cargo across the grasslands and deserts of the heartland. They're trading whatever it is they can, forever, in doomed worship of Ribbadon. Paying down interest. And looking for that old coin. They'll tell you that the lesson is that you cannot stop change, and so you must lean in to the chaos. Let yourself and everything you have be changed by curse of the heartland. And they'll demonstrate their new mastery over magics alchemical, illusionary, and alterative as proof of their philosophy's power. And yet… sometimes they'll tell you nothing at all, the hypocrites, because in their mouths they carry cargo they are desperate to keep. It is as old Ribbadon implied: Whatever they hold on their tongues is kept from the curse. The Disciples of the Triadic Pyre: I'll say as little as I can because there are few words one can write about them that won't guide them to you like a beacon, marking the ink, page, and writer to be burnt as fuel. The disciples worship a trio of gods that they call the Triadic Pyre, but it is hard to understand how these three beings—powerful though they may be—came first into alignment with each other. From the Magistrates of the Second Canton, they took Fulmina, goddess of immediate justice, and appointed her ruler of the Flame's Spark. From the terrible hierarchies of the locomotive Shape that runs across the heartland, they found a burning god among iron trains, whose name my lips dare not utter lest it lay its tracks towards you and I both, and aligned that beast with the Fire Alight. And finally, whether as cruel corruption or in a moment of lightness, they adopted the Ojantani Arinpata, the Smiling God of Death as their deity of Ashen Remains. Under it all is a simple belief: Even in the heartland where things sometimes find second or third life, in the end, everything burns, everything dies, everything ceases to be. And for the Disciples, the best place to be is holding the match. Hosted by Austin Walker (@austin_walker) Featuring Janine Hawkins (@bleatingheart) Sylvi Clare (@sylvibullet), Ali Acampora (@ali_west), Art Martinez-Tebbel (@atebbel), Jack de Quidt (@notquitereal), Keith J Carberry (@keithjcarberry) and Andrew Lee Swan (@swandre3000) Produced by Ali Acampora and Austin Walker Music by Jack de Quidt (available on bandcamp) Text by Austin Walker Cover Art by Craig Sheldon (@shoddyrobot) A transcription is available for this episode here.A full list of completed transcriptions is available here. Our transcriptions are provided by a fan-organized paid transcription project. If you'd like to join, you can get more information at https://twitter.com/transcript_fatt. Thank you to all of our transcribers!!

11 Maalis 20212h 13min

People will tell you that the heartland got sick about 200 years ago. When the dust came, reality left, and the panic set in. But trust me, it was ailing long before that. Don't get me wrong, you could understand why someone would die for it in the old days. Greens and golds, bread and honey. But around the time that those well dressed devils of Aldomina swept in, five, six hundred years ago, that's when things started to turn. They wanted to fence it in. Rows of corn and cane, columns of people. Nations reduced to gardens. Is it any wonder the ground itself started to ache? No one noticed until about 200 years ago, of course. See, the truth of the heartland—the truth of the world—is that it cannot be fenced in. So, the storms came, and they brought a deep sickness to the plains and valleys. Soil turned barren, animals twisted in form and character, unkind spirits swept through the fields, farmhouses, and burgs. Reality, unhinged, drew its own course. Unpredictable, though never dishonest. And as if in response, a rigid, mechanical malediction arrived, delivered by the cursed railway called the Shape. To be near places touched by such fearsome Structure was to hear a drum played too on beat, to see a circle drawn so smoothly as to make you stumble from its perfect curve. Those who could, those who held the whips and pocketbooks, fled. Those left behind tried to find stability, tried to make a home on this re-frontier of ash, metal, and ichor. Aldomina called this territory San Fielle. But there ain't nothin saintly this bout place. Now, we used the name that our ancestors, those forced to work this land or force from it, called it under their breath: Sangfielle. The Bloodfields. A transcription is available for this episode here.A full list of completed transcriptions is available here. Our transcriptions are provided by a fan-organized paid transcription project. If you'd like to join, you can get more information at https://twitter.com/transcript_fatt. Thank you to all of our transcribers!!

5 Maalis 202111min

Hey everyone! Join Austin Walker, Ali Acampora, Keith J. Carberry, Sylvia Clare, Jack de Quidt, Janine Hawkins, Art Martinez-Tebbel, and Andrew Lee Swan as we say farewell to PARTIZAN and answer audience questions! Thank you so much for listening and for your support throughout the season! We will be taking a break for the next couple of weeks as we continue to develop the next season. Any updates will appear in this feed, so keep an eye or an ear out! A transcription is available for this episode here.A full list of completed transcriptions is available here. Our transcriptions are provided by a fan-organized paid transcription project. If you'd like to join, you can get more information at https://twitter.com/transcript_fatt. Thank you to all of our transcribers!!

5 Helmi 20213h 35min