Smith and wesson 357 snub nose

I would guess maybe Smith and Wesson, with Beretta another contender. But I'd really love a single-stack CZ Rami.

I would guess maybe Smith and Wesson, with Beretta another contender. But I'd really love a single-stack CZ Rami.

As the title suggests, I am stuck on my next CCW. Right now, I'm looking into summer carry, and decided against a snub nose, and have sold it. I am looking for something slim, so a aingle stack and preferavvly chambered in 9mm. I have searched for the last few days and am between a CZ P10-M, a Beretta APX Carry, and a Kahr series.
I have concerns with each, and I was hoping some of you had experience with some of these.
My top 2 are the CZ and the Beretta. My main concern with the CZ P10M is that it's been out for over a year and I've NEVER heard anything on this pistol. I went looking for holsters and magazines and such in the chance I bought it ans there is almost NO support out there. Magazines are few and far in between and holster makers don't have this in their line up. The Beretta seems to have more support than the CZ and this is obviously its second iteration from their last APX slim stack with just some modifications.
For those of you who have either pistol, or even other suggestions, any advice or words of wisdom?
I have other CCWs and am only interested in deep concealment and single stack options at the moment. Thanks in advance!

Timestamp: https://imgur.com/a/reTPAs0
Safariland Duty Holster for: Smith and Wesson M&P 9 / 40 w/ light - ALS/SLS MID-RIDE, LEVEL III RETENTION DUTY HOLSTER (6360 2192) - $60 shipped
Safariland Paddle Holster for: Smith and Wesson M&P 9/40 w/o light (7378-219) - $30 shipped
Two (2) steel S&W 15 round .40 / .357 magazines - $40 for both shipped

​
This post is going to be really hard for me. It is an act of vulnerability. Please be gentle.
Anyways. I guess I am writing about this story as a way of sharing something that a younger version of myself lacked the self-awareness to even question. It now causes me a lot of shame and grief, because it demonstrates just how out of touch with reality I have been my whole life.
When I was 23 (32m now), I used to work in a locally owned cafe/smoothie shop. Kind of a quirky, "hip" place in its day. A girl started working there. She was older, in her 30s, and struggled with an eating disorder. She was very literary, went to an Ivy League college right out of high school, and her life and mental health had recently taken a turn for the worse. She seemed to be in a vulnerable place. Even though she was much older than me, she looked young and had a sort of mousy appearance and was pretty in her own way.
At the time, I was sort of a shift leader or something. I remember the first time I really got to interacting with her, she was crashed out on the chair in front of the register. The place was a DISASTER: freezer doors left open, stuff spilled everywhere, milk left out. She might have been fucked up on something, but whatever was going on, she CLEARLY was struggling to function.
At first, being a shift leader, I kind of had to talk to her about what was going on. I started learning more about her, and she piqued my curiosity.
I was a lonely person, so sometimes I would go in on my days off to grab a smoothie and hang out. Some days, I'd go there and she was there. I got to talking to her more, and I learned more about her life story and her current circumstance. Basically, she had been struggling with her mental health for some time now, struggling to hold down a job. She received a DUI and caused a car accident with a pregnant woman, but everyone involved was okay. Since that point in time, her life had been crumbling apart: she was forced to resign from her job at the courthouse when all of this happened in a particularly humiliating, horrifying, and traumatic way. I really felt for her.
We started becoming friends, and I got to see her many different sides. She had a bit of an "attitude"-- a wholesome, endearing sort of feistyness-- a strength about her. She was wicked smart and funny. She had these silly little ways of saying things. She was religious, which was surprising to me, because (in stark contrast to my religious upbring), she wasn't a prude, was well-versed in music, literature, art, (both high-culture and low-culture stuff, she wasn't a snob), and she also had a really obscene and absurd sense of humor. Overall, I found her extremely endearing and fascinating.
Some days I would come in, and it was like a light had turned on inside of her, her smile would shine. It made me happy. Other days, she seemed bitter, angry, and depressed-- and there was no turning it around. Some days, she just seemed completely checked out, her speech was garbled--what she said often made no sense--and I became really concerned. I remember on those days she was so out of it, she often had a bead of snot just dangling from the tip of her nose, for HOURS. (Seriously though, how? How did it just stay there and not fall, and how did she not realize this was happening? Anyways.)
What a mess. What a beauty.
Savior complex triggered much? Oh yes. Without even realizing, I started idealizing her and becoming completely infatuated.
There wasn't anything particularly wrong with this scenario, up until this point. I had a crush on an older woman who was becoming my friend, and she was in a rough spot in life. It felt like nothing was wrong with it. It felt innocent. It was innocent.
What I didn't realize at that time was that something in my interaction with her was triggering my insecurities, the old "push and pull". I couldn't tell if she just liked being my friend, liked-me-liked-me, or maybe was annoyed/indifferent to me? I would come in, grab a smoothie, start talking to her, and before I knew it, I was basically doing her job for her. On a few occasions, I stayed with until closing time, helped close up the shop, and give her a ride home. I was investing myself into her without even realizing.
Of course, my narcie bits didn't always feel appreciated. Sometimes, I felt a little resentful. To be clear: I don't think she did anything wrong here (especially now). She never asked me for her help. I just came in, saw a wounded little birdie, and instinctively wanted to swoop in and help out. Her vulnerability triggered a very childlike nurturing instinct in me.
What I didn't realize was how this "push-pull" (that was probably mostly imaginary), was triggering me. I started to feel small. I started to feel like everything I was doing to help her wasn't enough, that I wasn't enough.
The more I started liking her, the more I wanted to be like her. I wanted to be smarter, more literary, more funny, more prestigious--just, more. Something that wasn't a lame, abused, sheltered home-schooler. Someone who had life experience, who was intellectual, who had done things in life.
And then, slowly, I started attaching all of my fantasies produced by all of the unmet needs in childhood, to her. I started idealizing her life, her upbringing. I found myself thinking about what her life must have been like in public school, having friends, hopes, and dreams. Almost like a nostalgia over her past. I realize now, the nostalgia I felt was actually the nostalgia from my own childhood fantasies of being connected to the world, of having friends, hopes, and dreams. It was a nostalgia over a past I never had.
I started kind of becoming what I thought was "her". Rationalizing to myself that we shared qualities, traits, and interests. I found out she liked Cat Power. I started liking Cat Power. I found out she liked poetry. I started reading poetry. I found out she graduated high school with a prestigious scholarship. I started rewriting my own history, and later found myself making up stories to people at bars, how I too, had won that same scholarship out of high school.
Admitting even this much of this makes me feel so, so creepy and ashamed.
But that's far from the end of it. I was living and projecting my fantasy onto reality. Certain songs reminded me of her, even though there was no evidence that we had even shared listening to those songs together in reality. "In the Lost and Found" by Elliott Smith was one of those songs I attached this fantasy to.
I started actively changing myself to embody this weird fantasy version of myself. Creepily, I started to dig deeper into her history via her Facebook (which only had scant information about her to begin with). I found an ex-boyfriend of hers. He was a lawyer. She always talked about how she wanted to be a lawyer. Hey, I want to be a lawyer, too!--and then there would be subsequent rationalizations for why being a lawyer was the PERFECT job for me, and for why, clearly, what I was meant to do with my life was become a lawyer. Even more creepy, I started envying her ex-boyfriend, and found myself idealizing and emulating him, too. I saw a picture of him wearing hot pink socks. "How cool, unique, and quirky!". Guess who bought himself not just hot-pink socks, but hot pink SHOES?
I wanted to be like him. I wanted to absorb his qualities, this person that I had never met and only the most superficial, vague information about. My mind filled in the blanks. I found his goodreads account online and saw that he had read something like 200 uber-hip books on post-modernism, post-structuralism, and fashionable French philosophy. Guess who started buying and reading books on postmodernism and french philosophy? Guess who started modeling himself after a person he had never met?
Yikes.
At this point, I didn't even know if the girl cared for these things--by this point I was more wrapped up and concerned with creating this idealized version of myself based upon these internal fantasies of idealized objects, than really anything that had to do with her. She encouraged me to start working at the courthouse in her old role as a courtroom clerk, which I did end up doing for two years, until I realized that being a lawyer in real life actually sucks, and I don't actually want that job. (All of that is very complex--my dad had wanted to be a lawyer too, and I had reasons for wanting to become a lawyer before I met her, like wanting to be better than my dad, etc.)
Over time, we started drifting apart. But my sense of identity had completely changed. One day, a woman briefly walked into my little life at a smoothie shop, and completely changed me.
Or, I changed myself.
Writing all of this is extremely hard to face. It's extremely hard to face the fact that I have been living in a fantasy world for most of my life, and that my sense of self has been markedly shaped by it. That I manipulated myself and lied to myself and others, because deep down, my core identity is so weak, that I am constantly molding myself to be something acceptable, if even only to myself. That it's weak because I believe "being me" (whoever that even is now) isn't enough: I must DO. I must ACHIEVE in order to be worthy of love.
It's horrifying. I feel like such a creepy freak. More than anything, now, it just makes me really sad. It makes me sad that I have spent my entire life trying to become something worthy of love. It feels like my whole personality is made up of failed attempts at being good enough to receive all the things I desperately needed as a child. I was homeschooled, abused, and never even got to interact with the outside world. I never learned how to be a child--I was born into adulthood. I never learned how to make friends or interact with my peers, or how to be a real person in the real world.
It's had devastating impacts. Failed relationships. Addictions. Mal-adaptive daydreaming. Distorted, disturbed identity. Obsessive ruminations. Grief. Just, immense loss and disillusionment, my whole life.
Can I forgive myself? Can I forgive myself for this incessant self-abandonment?
It's hard. I've hurt people in my life. I never meant to, but I have. Most of all, I've hurt myself.
I really want to heal from this. I really want to live in the real world, be a real person. I want to know what it's like to "be me", but I don't even know if that's possible at this point. My whole identity feels like the skeletons of all the people I have tried and failed at becoming.
I'm trying to look at all of this insanity from a place of self-compassion. I can see how I got here. I can see it perfectly. It's just really painful to look at, and it makes me feel hopeless.
How can I ever really get to know "me"? At what point do I know that I have learned that I am good enough for me?

I have been obsessed with Elliott Smith for almost a decade now. I always wondered if he might have been disordered, BPD or possible vulnerable narc. Any one else a fan?
This post is going to be really hard for me. It is an act of vulnerability. Please be gentle.
Anyways. I guess I am writing about this story as a way of sharing something that a younger version of myself lacked the self-awareness to even question. It now causes me a lot of shame and grief, because it demonstrates just how out of touch with reality I have been my whole life.
When I was 23 (32m now), I used to work in a locally owned cafe/smoothie shop. Kind of a quirky, "hip" place in its day. A girl started working there. She was older, in her 30s, and struggled with an eating disorder. She was very literary, went to an Ivy League college right out of high school, and her life and mental health had recently taken a turn for the worse. She seemed to be in a vulnerable place. Even though she was much older than me, she looked young and had a sort of mousy appearance and was pretty in her own way.
At the time, I was sort of a shift leader or something. I remember the first time I really got to interacting with her, she was crashed out on the chair in front of the register. The place was a DISASTER: freezer doors left open, stuff spilled everywhere, milk left out. She might have been fucked up on something, but whatever was going on, she CLEARLY was struggling to function.
At first, being a shift leader, I kind of had to talk to her about what was going on. I started learning more about her, and she piqued my curiosity.
I was a lonely person, so sometimes I would go in on my days off to grab a smoothie and hang out. Some days, I'd go there and she was there. I got to talking to her more, and I learned more about her life story and her current circumstance. Basically, she had been struggling with her mental health for some time now, struggling to hold down a job. She received a DUI and caused a car accident with a pregnant woman, but everyone involved was okay. Since that point in time, her life had been crumbling apart: she was forced to resign from her job at the courthouse when all of this happened in a particularly humiliating, horrifying, and traumatic way. I really felt for her.
We started becoming friends, and I got to see her many different sides. She had a bit of an "attitude"-- a wholesome, endearing sort of feistyness-- a strength about her. She was wicked smart and funny. She had these silly little ways of saying things. She was religious, which was surprising to me, because (in stark contrast to my religious upbring), she wasn't a prude, was well-versed in music, literature, art, (both high-culture and low-culture stuff, she wasn't a snob), and she also had a really obscene and absurd sense of humor. Overall, I found her extremely endearing and fascinating.
Some days I would come in, and it was like a light had turned on inside of her, her smile would shine. It made me happy. Other days, she seemed bitter, angry, and depressed-- and there was no turning it around. Some days, she just seemed completely checked out, her speech was garbled--what she said often made no sense--and I became really concerned. I remember on those days she was so out of it, she often had a bead of snot just dangling from the tip of her nose, for HOURS. (Seriously though, how? How did it just stay there and not fall, and how did she not realize this was happening? Anyways.)
What a mess. What a beauty.
Savior complex triggered much? Oh yes. Without even realizing, I started idealizing her and becoming completely infatuated.
There wasn't anything particularly wrong with this scenario, up until this point. I had a crush on an older woman who was becoming my friend, and she was in a rough spot in life. It felt like nothing was wrong with it. It felt innocent. It was innocent.
What I didn't realize at that time was that something in my interaction with her was triggering my insecurities, the old "push and pull". I couldn't tell if she just liked being my friend, liked-me-liked-me, or maybe was annoyed/indifferent to me? I would come in, grab a smoothie, start talking to her, and before I knew it, I was basically doing her job for her. On a few occasions, I stayed with until closing time, helped close up the shop, and give her a ride home. I was investing myself into her without even realizing.
Of course, my narcie bits didn't always feel appreciated. Sometimes, I felt a little resentful. To be clear: I don't think she did anything wrong here (especially now). She never asked me for her help. I just came in, saw a wounded little birdie, and instinctively wanted to swoop in and help out. Her vulnerability triggered a very childlike nurturing instinct in me.
What I didn't realize was how this "push-pull" (that was probably mostly imaginary), was triggering me. I started to feel small. I started to feel like everything I was doing to help her wasn't enough, that I wasn't enough.
The more I started liking her, the more I wanted to be like her. I wanted to be smarter, more literary, more funny, more prestigious--just, more. Something that wasn't a lame, abused, sheltered home-schooler. Someone who had life experience, who was intellectual, who had done things in life.
And then, slowly, I started attaching all of my fantasies produced by all of the unmet needs in childhood, to her. I started idealizing her life, her upbringing. I found myself thinking about what her life must have been like in public school, having friends, hopes, and dreams. Almost like a nostalgia over her past. I realize now, the nostalgia I felt was actually the nostalgia from my own childhood fantasies of being connected to the world, of having friends, hopes, and dreams. It was a nostalgia over a past I never had.
I started kind of becoming what I thought was "her". Rationalizing to myself that we shared qualities, traits, and interests. I found out she liked Cat Power. I started liking Cat Power. I found out she liked poetry. I started reading poetry. I found out she graduated high school with a prestigious scholarship. I started rewriting my own history, and later found myself making up stories to people at bars, how I too, had won that same scholarship out of high school.
Admitting even this much of this makes me feel so, so creepy and ashamed.
But that's far from the end of it. I was living and projecting my fantasy onto reality. Certain songs reminded me of her, even though there was no evidence that we had even shared listening to those songs together in reality. "In the Lost and Found" by Elliott Smith was one of those songs I attached this fantasy to.
I started actively changing myself to embody this weird fantasy version of myself. Creepily, I started to dig deeper into her history via her Facebook (which only had scant information about her to begin with). I found an ex-boyfriend of hers. He was a lawyer. She always talked about how she wanted to be a lawyer. Hey, I want to be a lawyer, too!--and then there would be subsequent rationalizations for why being a lawyer was the PERFECT job for me, and for why, clearly, what I was meant to do with my life was become a lawyer. Even more creepy, I started envying her ex-boyfriend, and found myself idealizing and emulating him, too. I saw a picture of him wearing hot pink socks. "How cool, unique, and quirky!". Guess who bought himself not just hot-pink socks, but hot pink SHOES?
I wanted to be like him. I wanted to absorb his qualities, this person that I had never met and only the most superficial, vague information about. My mind filled in the blanks. I found his goodreads account online and saw that he had read something like 200 uber-hip books on post-modernism, post-structuralism, and fashionable French philosophy. Guess who started buying and reading books on postmodernism and french philosophy? Guess who started modeling himself after a person he had never met?
Yikes.
At this point, I didn't even know if the girl cared for these things--by this point I was more wrapped up and concerned with creating this idealized version of myself based upon these internal fantasies of idealized objects, than really anything that had to do with her. She encouraged me to start working at the courthouse in her old role as a courtroom clerk, which I did end up doing for two years, until I realized that being a lawyer in real life actually sucks, and I don't actually want that job. (All of that is very complex--my dad had wanted to be a lawyer too, and I had reasons for wanting to become a lawyer before I met her, like wanting to be better than my dad, etc.)
Over time, we started drifting apart. But my sense of identity had completely changed. One day, a woman briefly walked into my little life at a smoothie shop, and completely changed me.
Or, I changed myself.
Writing all of this is extremely hard to face. It's extremely hard to face the fact that I have been living in a fantasy world for most of my life, and that my sense of self has been markedly shaped by it. That I manipulated myself and lied to myself and others, because deep down, my core identity is so weak, that I am constantly molding myself to be something acceptable, if even only to myself. That it's weak because I believe "being me" (whoever that even is now) isn't enough: I must DO. I must ACHIEVE in order to be worthy of love.
It's horrifying. I feel like such a creepy freak. More than anything, now, it just makes me really sad. It makes me sad that I have spent my entire life trying to become something worthy of love. It feels like my whole personality is made up of failed attempts at being good enough to receive all the things I desperately needed as a child. I was homeschooled, abused, and never even got to interact with the outside world. I never learned how to be a child--I was born into adulthood. I never learned how to make friends or interact with my peers, or how to be a real person in the real world.
It's had devastating impacts. Failed relationships. Addictions. Mal-adaptive daydreaming. Distorted, disturbed identity. Obsessive ruminations. Grief. Just, immense loss and disillusionment, my whole life.
Can I forgive myself? Can I forgive myself for this incessant self-abandonment?
It's hard. I've hurt people in my life. I never meant to, but I have. Most of all, I've hurt myself.
I really want to heal from this. I really want to live in the real world, be a real person. I want to know what it's like to "be me", but I don't even know if that's possible at this point. My whole identity feels like the skeletons of all the people I have tried and failed at becoming.
I'm trying to look at all of this insanity from a place of self-compassion. I can see how I got here. I can see it perfectly. It's just really painful to look at, and it makes me feel hopeless.
How can I ever really get to know "me"? At what point do I know that I have learned that I am good enough for me?

If I did trade in/up I would only be able to add an extra 300 bucks to my trade which is valued around 150. Or do I keep the snub nose and just work on becoming more proficient with it?
View Poll

I’m a total newbie to the gun world. Recently had a break in a few weeks ago and while my sister and I were okay (we live together, Pennsylvania) it seriously made me realize that I was a little oblivious to the dangers out there. I’ve been reading up on gun laws in my state (PA) and have been looking into conceal carry options. I’m currently waiting for my license to get approved. Once it is I plan on taking lessons and getting in some range time. Went to gun shop near me and they recommended the Springfield Hellcat, Glock 43x and Smith and Wesson SD9.
I did get to feel all three guns in the store. The SD9 was the biggest of the three. Again I’m a newbie and was taking the gentleman’s advice at the store. My friends recommended the Glock 19 and my aunt and uncle (both police officers they’re whole life) also recommended a Glock. Wanted to get some opinions from some others who are knowledgeable as well. Thanks!

I’ve got a few hair and beard mods installed and went into creation kit to edit him to my liking, but after I save my changes and load the game he still looks like this. Any advice? The changes loaded once, and then I went back into CK to remove a moustache from Brand-Shei, and Bryn is back rocking the look of my ex-boyfriend’s dad.
Modlist:
# This file was automatically generated by Mod Organizer.
+Overwrites
+Northern Roads - Patches Compendium
+Northern Roads Patch Collection
+Northern Roads
+Books of Skyrim SE - Redux
+Better Khajiit female body Texture for UNP and CBBE body
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+Better Pelts and Hides
+Ryn's Dragon Mounds Collection
+KS Hairdos - HDT SMP (Physics) - Khajiit Patch
+KS Hairdos - HDT SMP (Physics)
+ADXP I MCO ER Twinblades (SCAR Precision)
+Lore Weapon Expansion SE
+Nicos Twinblades SE
+Twinblades of Skyrim
+The Forgotten City
+Dragon.Priest.by.Kajuan
+Elden Parry
+ECPLW -ENB Complex Particle Lights for Windows-
+Bellyaches HD Dragon Replacer Pack (SE)
+Another Race Menu Rotation Mod
+Ryn's Azura's Shrine
+Skyland Noble Furniture
+Khajiit Has Wares - A Caravan Camp Overhaul
+Seasoned Traveller Armor SE-AE
+Animated Potions
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+Inquisitor HDT-SMP Armor
+Dual Casting Fix
+Traveling Mage HDT-SMP Armor
+NPCs React To Necromancy (And More)
+JS Dwemer Control Cube SE
+Vampire Lines Expansion
+Open Animation Replacer
+Cinematic Dragon Soul Absorbtion
+Dawnguard Armors and Weapons Retexture SE
+Conditional Expressions Extended
+Toggleable Night Eye Vampire Werewolf and Khajiit
+Emerald Khajiit Vampire Eyes
+Dragonbone Ebonsteel Armor SE
+Frankly HD Dragonbone and Dragonscale - Armor and Weapons
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+Weathered Furniture - Common and Upper Class - 4K - 2K (LE Backport)
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+JS Purses and Septims SE
+JS Knapsacks SE
+Asura's Guard
+League of Assassins - Dark Brotherhood Retexture
+League of Assassins Armor
+Base Object Swapper
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+OBIS SE - Organized Bandits In Skyrim Special Edition
+Immersive Patrols SE AE
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+Frankly HD Imperial Armor and Weapons
+RS Children Patch Compendium
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+Patch for RS Children Overhaul
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+JS Common Cages SE
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+Prince and the Pauper SE - RS Children Patch
+RS Children Overhaul
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+Obscure's College of Winterhold
+College of Winterhold The Missing Apprentices Quest Fix
+College of Winterhold - Quest Expansion - markers
+College of Winterhold - Quest Expansion
+Vanilla SMP Clothing waccf ace patch
+Prisioner robes fix
+Better Fur - fine patch
+Vanilla SMP Clothing
+CACO Ordinator Alternate Patch
+Vanilla Cow Tweaks- Mihail Monsters and Animals (SE-AE version)
+Heart of the Beast - Werewolf Sound - Remastered - SSE PORT
+Daedroth Titans- Mihail Monsters and Animals (SE-AE version) (''oblivion daedra'')
+Wraith-of-Crows - Mihail Monsters and Animals (SE-AE version) (''nocturnal'')
+Savage Wolves
+More Hircinic Aspects of Hircine- Mihail's Shards of Immersion (SE-AE version)
+Lustmord Vampire Armor - SSE CBBE BodySlide (with Physics)
+Kellan HDT-SMP Armor
+Frost Giant Overhaul- Mihail Monsters and Animals (SE-AE version) (''karstaag'')
+Cow Replacer- Mihail Monsters and Animals (SE-AE version)
+Birds of Prey and Felsaad Terns- Mihail Monsters and Animals (SE-AE version)
+Apocrypha's Currency- Mihail's Shards of Immersion (SE-AE version) (''coin'')
+Glorious Doors of Skyrim (GDOS)
+Security Overhaul SKSE - Lock Variations
+Frankly HD Thieves Guild Armors
+Giant.by.Kajuan
+Fur Bedroll 2-4k
+Draugr.by.Kajuan
+Troll.by.Kajuan
+Skeleton.and.Human.Bones.by.Kajuan
+Edmond's HD Nordic Snow with Parallax
+Nordic Snow
+Hedge Mage Armor SSE
+Craftable Blood Potions SSE
+Illustrious Whiterun - Alt Stonefloor 4K 2.0
+Leviathan Animations II - Greatsword Non Combat Locomotion
+Leviathan Animations II - Greatsword Low Stance
+Vanargand Animations - Sneak idle walk and run
+Vanargand Animations - Sneak Thrust Attacks
+Vanargand Animations - Sneak Strike Attacks
+Leviathan Animations - Two-Handed High Stance
+Vanargand Animations - Dual Wield Sneak Thrusts
+Vanargand Animations - Dual Wield Sneak Strikes
+Vanargand Animations - Female Idle Walk and Run
+Vanargand Animations - Male Idle Walk and Run
+Goetia Animations - Female Idle Walk And Run
+Goetia Animations - Male Idle Walk And Run
+Leviathan Animations II - Female Idle Walk And Run
+Leviathan Animations II - Male Idle Walk And Run
+Conditional Armor Type Animations
+Leather Armors Retexture SE
+Fashions of The Huntsmen- A Leather Armor variation mod (Armor Pack- CBBE-3BA and HIMBO)
+Mysticism - Ordinator Patch
+Mysticism - A Magic Overhaul
+Lux - Illustrious Whiterun - Parallax'd
+Illustrious Whiterun SE - 8K - Parallax
+Teldryn Serious Patch
+DX Necromancer Robes - HDT-SMP Physics and 3BBB Bodyslides
+The Caller - DX Necromancer Robes
+3D Whiterun Trellis
+Immersive Equipment Displays
+HDT-SMP Traveler's Backpack - My Version
+HDT-SMP Traveler's Backpack
+Simple Dual Sheath
+Weapon Keyword Unification Project
+Keyword Item Distributor
+Nightingale Armor and Weapons Retexture SE
+Skaal Coat Alternative Texture
+Hearthfires Extended and Creation Club Fishing Patch
+Spell Research Add-On - Book Transformation Spell
+Terrain Fixes for CC Mods
+Necromancers Amulet Replacement
+Immersive Spell Learning
+Wintersun patch
+Spell Research - Ultimate Add-On Patch
+Altered Spell Tomes for Spell Research - Tweaks
+Spell Research - Convenience Add-On
+Spell Research - Spell Composing
+Altered Spell Tomes for Spell Research 1
+Altered Spell Tomes for Spell Research-Apocalypse
+Altered Spell Tomes for Spell Research
+Spell Research Patch Compendium Redux 357 patches
+Origins Of Forest - Lakeview Manor Patch
+Technicolor Alchemy - CACO - More Growable Plants Patch
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+SIC SE - Add-Ons and Patches
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*Creation Club: ccvsvsse004-beafarmer

Seattle’s 2023 class represents the second half of a draft-based reload which began last year, after the Seahawks finally admitted they were suffocating Russell Wilson and traded him to Denver so that he could fulfill his destiny. We were left with an unevenly-talented but surprisingly feisty roster which outperformed expectations all the way into the playoffs.
Our front office has been candid about some of its past mistakes in the draft, the most glaring of which have come when the team goes for need over talent. Last year, with the first half of our extra draft picks, we focused on acquiring as much talent as possible, rather than trying to address specific holes. The 2023 draft is very similar in that regard. In free agency, the team was restrained but practical, and added a few mid-range players to ensure a baseline of competency at the most problematic positions. This allowed them even more flexibility and leeway to be aggressive about drafting for talent.
What Seattle wants to be in 2023: I believe that Seattle would have loved to take Anthony Richardson, but the price to trade up was clearly too high. BUT - this is also a testament to the faith that they have in Geno Smith. They were not going to give up multiple first round picks when they think that Geno’s ceiling includes the potential for a Super Bowl run. I believe that is how the front office is looking at this team: They have a boatload of high draft picks over the last two years, which means an unusual number of blue chip prospects on cheap contracts. They also have a QB who has far outplayed his expectations, and if he can continue playing to even a similar level in 2023, will be outplaying his updated contract as well. I do think that Seattle has tried to take the burden off of Geno with the way that they drafted - but again, this has always been Pete Carroll’s philosophy. Pete Carroll doesn’t want the team to live or die on the arm of the quarterback. So, Seattle drafted to make every other part of the roster stronger and more competitive.
THE DRAFT
1.05) Devon Witherspoon - CB, Illinois
While I haven’t made much of Seattle’s needs, it’s obvious to anyone who watches the Seahawks that the defense needs dramatic improvement for this team to reach the next level. Tariq Woolen was a huge surprise as a rookie and a breakout star at right cornerback, but Seattle lacked an obvious answer on the opposite side. Devon Witherspoon is a true tone-setter for the defense as well as the perfect complement to Tariq at left cornerback. Where Tariq is supremely long, fast and fluid, Devon Witherspoon is smaller but more in-your-face. He’s violent, which is an unusual as well as a very exciting trait to list among the first attributes of a cornerback. The speed at which he triggers and the force with which he strikes ballcarriers are special for the position, and that physicality is especially welcome on the left side where he’ll be playing. But he’s also an adept cover man who posted great ball production in college (3 picks and 14 passes broken up in 2022), and for as much as his hitting pops off the screen, it’s actually his mental game which is most exciting of all.
He is one of those players who always seems to know what is happening before anyone else does - it looks like he’s guessing, but when he’s consistently right, over and over, it becomes apparent that he has a truly unusual aptitude for reading the game. That’s not just my own opinion, either - in Pete Carroll’s own words: “His make-up … how he approaches the game, the way he sees his opportunities and stuff. I’ve always held Troy in high regard in that. (Devon Witherspoon) is the closest I’ve come to that, someone talking and acting and performing like that … We’ve not seen a guy like this.”
1.20) Jaxon Smith-Njigba - WR, Ohio State
Tyler Lockett is 30, and going into his age-31 season. People talk about his upcoming cap hit, but he’s still nearly un-cuttable until 2025 due to dead money. Is a trade possible? Maybe, but that somehow feels unlikely. Does the team know that Tyler plans to retire relatively soon? It’s plausible - he does already have a fairly successful side gig going as a realtor. But where I’m actually going with this is … Seattle really needed a 3rd wide receiver even if the whole gang stays together. Dee Eskridge was meant to be that guy a couple of years ago, and it just hasn’t happened. JSN is on another level as a prospect, and by taking over the slot, allows DK and Tyler more freedom to attack the deep third of the field. I think we’ll see all three of them lined up in every position over the course of the season, but the way that JSN is able to attack the short and middle areas with body positioning and quick separation will potentially change the way our whole passing game works - even if he only logs, say, 50 or 60 catches. I’d be really happy with that from him in year 1.
It’s worth mentioning as well - our current OC (who some speculate could be our HC-in-waiting) is Shane Waldron, who was with the Rams as they unlocked the 90+ catch potential of Robert Woods and Cooper Kupp. JSN has the exact attributes to thrive in that kind of scheme - lots of digs, crosses, and pop routes off of play action - probably even more so than DK or Tyler. So even if he doesn’t go huge in year 1, this feels like a slam dunk pick for the future of this offense.
2.37) Derick Hall - EDGE, Auburn
Similar to Devon Witherspoon, Derick Hall is violent. The Seahawks defense has distinctly lacked a certain intimidation factor over the last few years, and Hall is another attempt to rectify that. There were some split opinions on Hall, but there are some indications that the Seahawks had Hall rated as a first-round talent on their big board. He’s not a refined rusher, but he’s very well-built and physical, and meets blockers with speed, aggression, and power.
Oftentimes we see elite athletes at the EDGE position we assume that they’ll be finesse players, but Hall is the opposite: while he’s squatty (a shade under 6’3” and 255) and very long (34” arms), he also boasts a 93rd percentile broad and 94th percentile 40 yard dash: he’s not trying to beat you around the corner, he’s a freight train with a dragster’s throttle and he’s going to hit you at full speed. He joins an already-young and talented group of EDGE defenders that includes stud free agent signing Uchenna Nwosu and two other recent 2nd-rounders in Darrell Taylor and Boye Mafe. Especially with EDGE rushers, it’s great to have a rotation. You love having a deep group that keeps each other fresh and allows you the flexibility to adapt to situations or matchups. Taylor and Mafe bring more of the typical bend and burst you expect from athletic EDGE players, and Hall’s power and violence is a welcome addition to the mix.
2.52) Zach Charbonnet - RB, UCLA
While fantasy football nerds everywhere donned black to mourn the wasted futures of both Ken Walker III and Zach Charbonnet, I chuckled to myself. There’s quite a lot of detail on this situation in that link, but the basic upshot is this: Seattle’s front office had Zach Charbonnet very high on their draft board. He was in consideration as early as pick 37, where they took Derick Hall. Our running game didn’t work very well last year when KWIII was injured, and they want to make sure that doesn’t happen again. But furthermore, even while KWIII was one of the most explosive running backs in the league as a rookie, he was also inconsistent. He ripped off a bunch of big runs, but there were a lot of others where he left meat on the bone.
I’m not suggesting that the rookie version of KWIII is his ceiling, but there was more room for improvement than I think is appreciated by a lot of people who don’t watch the Seahawks. Charbonnet doesn’t have the same breakaway ability, but on a run-to-run basis, he appears to be more consistent at getting 3 or 4 yards in the kinds of spots where KWIII was getting 1 or 2. Pete Carroll really wants a consistent run game, and if KWIII isn’t delivering that, he might just turn out to be the most exciting 1B in the league. Or maybe he’ll really take ownership of the 1A role and this situation looks a bit like the best of Nick Chubb and Kareem Hunt for the next 3 years. Bottom line: Charbonnet provides high-end depth to a position that has really struggled with injuries in recent years while also offering more potential as a pass blocker, more skill as a receiver, and more consistency and physicality as a ballcarrier. It’ll be really interesting to see how that shakes out in the touch ratios, but it’s not out of the realm of possibility that Charbonnet comes in and takes the priority spot on the depth chart. Pete Carroll indicates that he and Ken Walker will just have to battle it out.
4.108) Anthony Bradford - OG, LSU
While Seattle managed to nab not one but two starting offensive tackles in last year’s draft, the interior offensive line continued to be a mixed bag. Damien Lewis is entering the 4th year of his rookie contract and has been a little up-and-down since moving from RG to LG after a very good rookie season, and RG Gabe Jackson is currently a free agent. One of Seattle’s only notable FA signings was Detroit’s OC/G Evan Brown, whose 1-year deal gave us a veteran baseline at both C and G going into the draft. They've also got Phil Haynes, a 4th round pick himself from 2019 who's never secured a starting role but has shown some ability when given the opportunity. Anthony Bradford will be expected to compete with both of them for the RG spot in 2023 and hopefully be ready to take over by 2024.
Bradford is another tone-setter. His agility is average, but his combination of bulk and power is high-end - he’s 330 pounds and put up 34 bench reps while still testing in the top 25% of all interior linemen for his jumps and sprints. This pick is another demonstration of Seattle’s priorities: they want to play a physical brand of football on both sides of the ball. There’s a simplicity to this pick, summarized neatly by an anonymous offensive line coach at the bottom of of his NFL.com prospect profile: “I’ll take size and power all day over finesse guards who can move but don’t have any pop to them.”
It’s worth noting that Seattle picked here because Denver gave up their 2024 3rd round pick to swap 4.108 for pick 3.83. It seems relatively likely that 2024 pick is higher than 3.83, which in turn sort of makes this feel like a free 4th rounder. (Why does Denver want us to have so much of their draft capital?)
4.123) Cameron Young - DT, Mississippi State
One of Seattle’s biggest needs was interior defensive line, and this feels like one of the most obvious ‘need’ picks of the draft - though it’s telling that it doesn’t feel like Seattle specifically targeted a need until the middle rounds.
Cam Young isn’t a dynamic pass rusher, but he’s well-built for the interior and has very, very long arms (34.5”). He’s got a good anchor and combined with that length, gives us a viable player at nose tackle. He doesn’t have to be flashy to be an early contributor on the interior rotation, and by day 3 any consistent contribution feels like great value for any pick.
5.151) Mike Morris - DL, Michigan
Mike Morris is an interesting pick because he’s likely to play a different position for us than he played at Michigan, where he often played from a 2-point stance. He’s most likely going to be a 5-tech for us (a base end in 3-4/hybrid looks), because while he’s athletic - in the sense that he moves very well, shows decent balance, and has good hand-eye coordination - he’s not really explosive or twitchy enough to drop back into coverage or challenge offensive tackles with speed.
But he’s also huge. He’s over 6’5”, weighed 275 at the combine and will play around 290 for Seattle. Pete Carroll has indicated that he’ll play a similar role to Dre’Mont Jones and Jarran Reed, who are both 300-lb defensive ends in our scheme. Similarly to Young, a lack of depth in the rotation opens the possibility for early snaps.
5.154) Olusegun Oluwatimi - OC, Michigan
Now, he’s a pick that got a number of people pretty excited. I was personally a little bit surprised that they took Mike Morris ahead of “Olu Olu,” as center was both a bigger need than 5-tech, and Olu Olu was also widely regarded as a better prospect. But not only was Olu Olu regarded as a better prospect - many people thought that he could go as early as the 3rd or 4th round. PFF loves him, the Senior Bowl’s Jim Nagy loves him, and so did CFB’s awards - in 2022 he won both the Rimington Award as the nations best center as well as the Outland Trophy as the nation’s best interior lineman.
How did he slip to the 5th round? When you look at his scouting reports, you see terms like ‘functional athleticism’ and ‘adequate agility.’ We don’t have agility numbers for him, so it may well be that he simply knows his strengths - and that said, he does have some physical advantages. He’s about 310, which is on the larger side for a center, pretty good length, and also shows some legitimate explosiveness and power with his jumps and bench. But beyond that, he was a 4-year starter at Michigan who has loads of experience against top competition and a wide variety of defensive schemes. He’s smart. He can make all the calls, he knows where to be, and a center play goes a long way when a guy is in the right place at the right time while bringing plenty of power with him. Like Anthony Bradford, Olu will be challenging Evan Brown for an immediate role on the interior line. There’s guarantee, but there is a real chance this is our starting center for the next several years - and for a 5th round pick, just the legitimacy of that possibility represents a tremendous value.
6.198) Jerrick Reed II - S/DB, New Mexico
Not many people know who Jerrick Reed is, and that’s ok - he’s used to it. An undersized defensive back at 5’9” 196, Reed has done nothing but produce from high school, to community college, and eventually to a D-I scholarship to New Mexico State where he started for all 4 years. This continues a trend: the Seahawks again have taken a smart, tough player with lots of starting experience, who is a very hard worker, and who loves and understands the game. That will be important for a late-round pick trying to make the team, but the path to playing time might be shorter than you’d think.
When Seattle signed Julian Love in free agency, there were questions about what that meant for Quandre Diggs and Jamal Adams. Apparently, per Pete Carroll, it doesn’t mean anything - they intend to play a lot of 3-safety looks. It’s worth noting that this is something they were already doing at the beginning of last year, before Jamal Adams got injured (again). If this defense is playing with 3 safeties much of the time - which is made even more likely by the lack of depth and talent at off-ball linebacker - then a 4th or 5th safety is much closer than usual to being an immediate backup. Reed’s not going to get any looks on the outside, but he can legitimately back up the free safety, strong safety, and nickel positions. He also has a ton of experience on special teams, and the ability to fill 4 or more different roles on a squad is exactly the kind of thing that makes depth guys stick to final rosters.
7.237) Kenny McIntosh - RB, Georgia
Similar to Olu Olu, Kenny McIntosh is a player who many people thought could go much earlier than he did. The problem with Kenny McIntosh - in my opinion - is simply that he had a very worrying series of predraft measurements. He seemingly dropped weight to run at the combine, but only managed a 4.63 at 204 lbs. He was back up to 216 for Georgia’s pro day, but again only managed a 4.66 along with some other mediocre-to-poor numbers. Teams seemed more interested in other more-explosive backs, or runners with better resumes as pure ballcarriers.
But at this point in the draft, that lack of interest became Seattle’s gain. Because in Seattle, Kenny McIntosh is not only going to be allowed to play to his strengths - he’s going to be expected to, because there’s a specific role on this team for a player exactly like him. One of the Seahawks most underrated losses this offseason was running back Travis Homer. It wouldn’t surprise me if most people don’t know who he is, but he had a definite role as a third-down back in addition to special teams duties. Like Jerrick Reed, it will definitely help McIntosh’s case for a roster spot if he can prove his worth on special teams. But he may not have to. Travis Homer was not a particularly good ballcarrier. He was small - also around 205 - wasn’t creative, wasn’t powerful, wasn’t especially fast or twitchy. But he was a tremendous pass blocker and a serviceable receiver, and those two things earned him about a quarter of all offensive snaps (484) in games he played in over the last 3 seasons. If that seems high, that’s because it is - especially for a running back who only touched the ball 106 times in that span. Compare that to DeeJay Dallas, who had about half-again as many touches on a similar number of snaps.
While Ken Walker III and Zach Charbonnet are going to be the running backs who the offense specifically tries to feed the ball, Kenny McIntosh could easily be the running back that the team wants on the field in the most obvious passing situations. Zach Charbonnet was also one of the most productive receivers among college running backs, but Kenny McIntosh is probably smoother and more refined as both a route runner and a receiver. McIntosh registered zero drops on 90 targets, posted a PFF grade over 90 as a receiver, and is also already a very reliable pass blocker. That means there’s already a role for him on the Seahawks, and KWIII and Charbs aren’t necessarily in his way - if anything, those guys might be battling for the 3rd-down snaps that Seattle’s coaches assume will go to McIntosh. Again, as with several of these other day three picks - this 7th rounder enters training camp with a great shot to take hold of an important role early on. He may only log 20 carries and 20 catches in the stat book over the course of the season, but it might also be on 150-200 snaps, and in important game situations. And if he’s able to keep KWIII and Charbs that much fresher, and especially if he’s just the best for those situations, once again that’s tremendous value for the back end of the draft.
I’m really excited for this draft class.
Go Hawks.

--- Table of Contents ---
Autumn 4986, 16 Aoimoth
Shon and Nangran hobbled their horses at the base of a steep hill deep in the woods north of Hamerfoss. They'd left at fourth bell, before any of the other Squires had woken for their morning run, and it had still taken them hours of riding through narrow trails to reach this place. At least they hadn't run into any monsters. The snow that had dusted the landscape during the night lay thick here, crunching underfoot and occasionally flopping noisily to either side as it fell from the tall evergreen branches.
Shon adjusted the strap of his sword across his chest and reached his left hand back to brush shaking fingers over its hilt. He'd been glad when the Paladins insisted he take it with him. To them, it marked Shon as a representative of Hengist and the Temple. To Shon, it was a sign of his hard work and resolve. Having it was a comfort.
Nangran started up the hill, and Shon hurried to follow. The smith hadn’t spoken a word since they set out, not even to try and ease Shon’s anxiety, for which Shon was grateful. Master Daunas had tried to sound confident as Shon saddled his borrowed horse, and The Major General had offered him encouragement as they mounted. Neither realized how much that just drove home the desperation of the situation in Shon’s mind.
The smith pulled his heavy cloak tighter, and Shon looked away. He hadn’t bothered to wear his cloak. He'd never really felt chilled in the winter like others seemed to. Now that he knew why, he wished he had. Cold continued to swirl around him, enhanced by his worries. If he could just block those emotions, the power would never have been a problem to begin with.
The trees thinned the higher they climbed, disappearing almost entirely as they crested the top of the hill. The clearing looked over the treetops, offering an unimpeded view of the horizon. Forest all around, with flatland to the south and rocky mountain peaks to the north. Only a handful of small trees grew in the clearing, and in the middle stood a little ramshackle hut only slightly larger than an outhouse.
Nangran threw his arm out, stopping Shon from walking past him, "Don't touch anything. And don't be surprised if he says no right off."
Shon nodded, trying to swallow down his fear so it wouldn't be seen in his eyes. Dropping his hand, Nangran started forward again, finishing, "Be honest, but not insulting." The instructions, -or perhaps advice?- seemed like common courtesy, which made Shon wonder why quiet Nangran had bothered to say anything.
As they drew closer to the little shack, Shon could make out a sign on the door. He squinted to read it and had just made out 'No Soliciting' when the door swung open, banging against the wall and sending birds into flight. An old man, so thin he looked like a skeleton with yellow skin pulled tight across its bones, stormed out. Wearing nothing but a loincloth, he was shaking a thick stick at them that glinted with red rubies in the low autumn light.
"I already paid my dues for this decade! So you can take your request and shove it-" Shon’s hand instinctively reached for his sword, but Nangran just crossed his arms over his barrel chest. The old -virtually naked- man stopped yelling mid-rant and lifted one shriveled arm to shade his eyes as he squinted at them, "Eh? Flintchest, what’re you doing way out here with a blasted mage in tow?"
Rather than answer, Nangran started forward again, he didn't much care for talking, let alone shouting. Looking from Nangran to the loincloth man, Shon slowly lowered his arm, but still took position to the left and just behind the Smith as they approached the crazy man with the glittering club.
"No mage." Nangran said as he came right up to the strange old man, "Squire." he glanced over his shoulder at Shon and finished, "Sorcerer."
The old man spat on the ground and moved his squint to Shon. Running his eyes from the top of his black head to the tip of his polished boots and back, exaggerating the movement before he stopped at the Squire’s cold blue eyes.
He spat again, then barked "Where's your familiar?" scanning first the ground at Shon's feet then the sky above his head.
Shon blinked at him, furrowing his brow in confusion at the question. The mage snapped his fingers impatiently, "Your familiar! All Sorcerers have a familiar."
Nangran came to his rescue, "Just woke last night," he said shortly.
The mage spat again but didn't argue, "Well, come in then." Shon looked sideways at Nangran, but the Smith had already begun following the skinny old man into the shack. Shon hurried to catch up.
Inside, Shon's eyes were assaulted with a sparkling rainbow of colors. The room they'd entered was considerably larger than the outside would suggest, with plush carpet and a stuffed high-back armchair in front of a blazing fire in the opposite wall. Shelves full of exotic plants, glowing glass jars, and glittering stones filled every available space, reflecting off one another and setting streaks of light to dance on the floor and walls like sun rays through crystal.
There was too much to take in, so Shon focused on their host. The old man was slipping into a thick robe of deep purple velvet. He'd hung the club on the wall beside the door, which looked just as decrepit on this side as it had on the outside.
"Make a habit of greeting visitors half-naked and swinging an old fireball wand?" Nangran asked as he slipped out of his cloak.
"Keeps the conversations short." the old man replied tersely, tying his belt and turning to his guests. With boney knuckles on boney hips and glare firmly planted on his wrinkled face, he snapped, "Don't bother getting comfortable, Flintchest; you'll be leaving soon enough."
The Smith ignored him, hanging his cloak on the hook that had presumably held the mage's robe. "Got a favor to ask," he said, but the old man was already shaking his head,
"More like a favor to cash in. That's the only reason you're in here and not smoking in a hole outside."
Nangran ignored the threat and motioned from Shon to the old man and back. "Archmage Ivelm." The mage looked Shon up and down again as Nangran made the introductions, “Squire Shon.”
"Not much longer, I'd say." Ivelm said to Nangran as he finished his second examination, "It's to the Guild with this one. Too much magic." he turned his head and spat in a brass can by the door. It rang out with a loud ‘ting!' and Ivelm sniffed, looking down at Nangran again, "What do you want, Flintchest?"
"Need a seal. So the boy doesn't freeze Hamerfoss more than it already is." the smith crossed his arms, watching the mage and somehow still seeming completely at ease.
"Eh?!" Ivelm exclaimed, leaning far forward. Shon had to try hard not to crinkle his nose as the old man brought his face close enough that Shon could smell Ivelm's breath. Garlic, the mage ate a lot of garlic…
"So… you don't want to be a mage, do you?" he demanded, glaring down his nose at him. Shon shook his head and would have answered with a 'no ser.' except the mage continued, "Rather swing around some hunk of metal like a brute?"
Shon blinked stupidly, and Nangran cleared his throat, "Watch what you say about my swords, old man."
Ivelm ignored the smith as soundly as Nangran had ignored the Archmage, and continued to Shon, "The powers of the universe are at your fingertips. Blood blessed with the strength of the elements, and you wanna throw it all away," he threw his arms into the air, still uncomfortably close, "And for what? Some illusion of an honorable death by the sword?"
Shon didn't know what to say. He looked past the affronted mage's face, only an inch from his own, to Nangran. But the smith gave no sign he was going to help. Shon’s future depended on convincing this strange old man, this Archmage, to help…
Shon wasn't the type to try and convince anyone of anything, but the least he could do was explain himself. Shon stepped back from the mage to address him from a more comfortable distance. "I chose to dedicate my life to perfecting my art, and my art is martial combat," he said. Ivelm wrinkled his nose, his mouth twisting as if he were going to spit again, but Shon continued, "magic would be better served in the hands of someone who wants it badly enough to work for it. Like I've worked for my martial skills."
Ivelm leaned away from Shon, his eyebrows lifted into his frizzled gray hair. Shon looked to Nangran, hoping for some sign that this was a good response. The smith smiled from behind the mage.
"Soooo…" Ivelm drew the word out, "You think only those who dedicate themselves to strict study and practice should wield the power of the universe?" he leaned forward again, turning his head and fixing one eye on Shon like a bird. As if trying to catch him in a lie.
Shon nodded, confused, then asked, "Isn't that what it takes to effectively wield magic? Focused study?"
Ivelm didn't answer the question, instead turning his face to examine Shon with the other eye, scanning him up and down yet again. The old man had looked him up and down so much Shon wouldn't be surprised if the next question were about his hair or boots.
But Ivelm didn't ask another question. Instead, he stood straight and spat into the brass can with another ringing 'ting!' "I like this one," he said, turning his back on Shon and facing Nangran, "But it's too much." he shook his head, lifting his hands in helpless surrender, "Too much power, and ice at that. Stubborn element that one. And it's so finicky to block just elemental magic..."
Ivelm continued talking but Shon heard very little of it. A hole had opened in his gut, and it felt like his heart was racing his stomach to fall into it. But Nangran just rolled his eyes at the mage, interrupting, "Used to be the name in new magic items... made shackles to hold Archmages." he squinted at Ivelm, who had frozen mid-head shake, "Must've gotten rusty out…"
Ivelm snapped his fingers under the Smith's nose to stop him talking, "The mind does not rust, Flintchest!" he huffed, one bare foot tapping under his robe, "Not like your swords and shriveling muscles." Nangran just stared stubbornly, his thick, muscled arms still crossed over his broad chest.
The mage continued to tap his foot, his nose in the air. But as the silence stretched, Ivelm looked down at the smith, who continued to say nothing. The silent battle of wills ended when Ivelm threw his arms up in disgust and shook a finger under Nangran's nose, nearly hitting it, declaring, "I'll show you. I'll make a gem especially for this lad, and you'll see the mind only continues to grow sharper!"
He spun on his heel back to Shon, who had just made out the smith's returned smile from behind the mage when the old man snapped his fingers in Shon's face, making him jump. "Well, what are you waiting for? Come here so I can take some measurements!" Ivelm swung around again and marched across the room to a large workbench with plants and gems scattered across it. Shon scrambled after him, praying his thanks to Hengist and suddenly feeling light enough to float. His anxieties dropping away and melting like snow in summer.
***
It was already noon, and no one had come to see Her. She jumped up to grab the bars of Her window, pulling Herself up to peak out but seeing nothing but new snow and tree trunks. She was full to bursting with nervous energy, amplifying every sound and sensation. Footsteps sounded outside Her door, and She dropped from the window, sprinting across the room and resting Her ear on the wood.
“Ran, recheck the lab. Brom, with me.” Archmage Morndancer spoke with his strange alternation between draconic and common as he passed Her door without stopping. She could easily make out the swish of their robes on the stone hall leading away. Three people, Brom, Ran, and Archmage Morndancer. And yet the scurrying of too many feet to be only the two apprentices and Archmage Shaloon, sounded from the floor above. There were strangers in her tower again. Many strangers. Something was happening, something big…
She ran to Her window again, just for something to do, seeking some way to burn off some of the anxiety of not knowing what was going on around her.
A roar from down the hall, a roar of pain, sent ice washing through her veins. She slammed into the door at full speed. Pounding on the wood, She called out, “Brom?! Ran?!” Nothing. Then a yip cut short, followed by barking and yowling.
She shook the handle with both hands, rattling the door on its hinges, “BROM! RAN!” Something was happening to Her treasures, something terrible… The door handle began to glow, the metal warping and sagging as it melted. The knowledge that She would be in more trouble than She had ever been in before was nothing compared to Her terror. She wrenched the handle back with all Her might, splashing molten metal across Her bed, lighting fires that flared in her panic, and sending smoke to curl up to the ceiling.
She didn’t care. She shouldered the door open and ran.
“Red?!” She passed the first open door but couldn’t stop as Ran called out to Her. Reaching Her treasures' room, She tried to stop but slipped, slamming into the ground with a sticky splash. A final whining bark started a buzzing in Her ears as She stared, transfixed, at Her hands. They were painted red. Warm and sticky. The overpowering stench of iron nearly made Her gag as She looked up to see Morndancer toss aside a glittering golden wolf pup, the body flopping limply over the corpse of its mother and siblings.
Her world went red.
***
The last sample was taken care of, but something roared with enough ferocity to shatter glass.
Morndancer's head snapped around in time for him to fall back, shielding his face with his hands as the Firewyrm exploded. White-hot fire engulfed Her and spread out to the stone floor and walls. His robes began to smoke, the new fire protection spells woven into them being overpowered by the sheer ferocity of the blaze.
Brom had no such spells, and he had only managed a single step towards the girl before he fell to the ground, writhing for only a moment before lying still. The Archmage heard Ran scream from the hall before the journeyman stumbled past the door, flailing wildly. Barely discernible as human inside the flames.
The Firewyrm moved towards him, stepping through Brom’s head, turned to ash, and blown up to dance in the air on the same heatwaves causing the girl's hair to wave wildly about Her. She didn't seem to notice, Her face was expressionless and her eyes glowed as red as the scales across Her cheek. Morndancer tried to snap his fingers, but the golden collar around Her neck melted, Her clothes burning off and leaving Her naked and terrible in the flames.
His robe was burning now, and only the pain of that could pull his eyes from the Firewyrm as he pointlessly tried to beat the fires off. He fell back, hitting the wall, which drooped, sagging and dripping molten stone onto his head and face. Then he fell further back, into a gate that opened behind him.
Shaloon pulled him through the portal and into the library three stories up. The Firewyrm roared again and the tower walls shook with the force of it. The gate closed, but Morndancer continued to burn. He could hear screaming. Was it him? Was he screaming? Fire burst up the spiral stairs in the middle of the room, and apprentices, both their own and many sent from the central and western Talon, scrambled about in a panic, some even leaping from the windows.
Shaloon cursed, holding out her hand and summoning her sword again. She had to draw the circle five times before a second gate finally formed, and she dove through it, pulling Morndancer along with her as it quickly closed. An apprentice reached through, and his arm fell at Morndancer’s feet, miles away in the sitting room of his manor back in Smildna.
He laughed. Shaloon slapped him, and he laughed. Ronni, his daughter, burst through the door, her own daughter, only a year old, perched on her hip, and still, he laughed. “What’s wrong?! What happened to him?!” he barely registered his daughter's words and continued to laugh, rolling around on the ground in mirthful madness.
“The Firewyrm She…” Shaloon started, but Morndancer yelled over her in draconic,
“She is true! She is pure! She is rage! The children will come and raise the grandchildren! We have only to await the coming of those Chosen!” the room faded around him, becoming washed out and gray then finally black as he continued to laugh and shout, “They take those who slew them and use them to raise themselves anew…”
He couldn’t feel his burns or the hands trying to settle him. He saw only darkness and stars. And the eyes of his Master boring into his soul from the outer planes.
***
Shon couldn't remember ever feeling so drained in his life. He'd been tired before, exhausted even, but it had never felt quite like this. The eccentric Archmage Ivelm had ordered him to 'empty his energy' into stone after stone. Measuring the weight, color, and temperature of each. Making notes in chalk directly on his table and talking to himself. Shon was shocked the first time he saw the smooth rock handed to him change from a translucent white to an onyx as black as his hair, but by the time they'd gone through the twentieth stone, Shon had decided to stop counting.
Ivelm, however, seemed to get more and more excited with each one. Giving Shon reason to suspect the mage may be taking the energy for himself. After what felt like hours, Ivelm finally stoppered the potion he'd mixed with the most recent jewel, glowing a soft pale blue, and stepped back from the workbench, bony hands on bony hips.
"It can be done." Ivelm swiveled to face Nangran, "He's strong, I don’t know how he managed not to manifest until now, but it's all focused in one elemental direction." he rubbed his chin and looked at the ceiling, completely ignoring Shon's arched eyebrow. "It has a bit of divine flavor as well. But I suppose that shouldn't be surprising for a training Paladin." The mage stopped musing and glared down his nose at Nangran, who had made himself comfortable in the oversized wingback chair by the fire, "It will have to be a lot bigger than a piece of jewelry would allow."
The smith just hummed and sipped at his mug. When had he gotten a mug? Shon looked from one old man to the other. It was apparent Ivelm wanted Nangran to ask him for details, but the ever stoic smith said nothing.
Shon was tired. His limbs felt heavy, and the weight of his simple uniform felt more like platemail. He was just about to ask what the Archmage meant, to hurry them along, when Ivelm threw his hands in the air and said, "You'll need to find somewhere to put it. I would recommend that." he pointed at the hilt of Shon's sword over his shoulder, continuing, "If the lad is insisting on swinging a metal stick around instead of harnessing the ultimate powers of the universe then that same stick might as well sap the power literally as well as figuratively." Shon arched an incredulous eyebrow but Ivelm wasn't paying attention, finishing, "I can get it down to about an inch and a half orb. At the smallest. If you want something different, say so now."
Nangran set his mug on the ground and stood with a grunt and a groan. Shon just wanted to go home and sleep for a week, so when the smith reached for the hilt of his sword for a closer look Shon hardly noticed, until the squat smith jerked it down to eye level. Shon swung his arms like a drowning man and stepped wide to prevent himself from falling over.
"Quit wigglin'," Nangran grumbled, studying the sword's pommel with a professional eye. "One and a half'll do, preferably in a tear…"
The mage snorted and continued to ignore the struggling half crouched Shon, his voice dripping sarcasm as he addressed the smith, "Shall I wrap it in silk for you as well?"
"Na." Nangran let go of the sword, and Shon stood straight, lifting his leg to shake out the knee. "Drop it off when you’re done." the Mage snorted again but didn't counter.
None of them were interested in extending the visit, so Nangran grabbed his heavy cloak and shrugged it on while Shon waited by the door. "It will be at least a fortnight," Ivelm called from his position by the workbench, not about to walk them out.
Nangran grunted his confirmation and opened the battered and decrepit door, letting the wind and early autumn snow blow in on their way out. Shon followed numbly, his eyes unfocused as he walked, and ran right into the much shorter man. Nangran hardly moved as Shon bounced off of him. He was squinting into the distance, one large hand shading his eyes. Shon stared at Nangran for a moment before following the direction of his gaze over the tree line.
Smoke. A LOT of smoke. The black clouds billowed violently into the sky, occasionally lit from below by sparks shot high into the air.
"Elm!" Nangran shouted. Shon had never heard the man call so loudly. The Archmage must have also been shocked because the door to his hut swung open and he stuck his head out to look to either side, eyes wide.
"Flintchest, what?" but he soon saw what, "But, that's the old chemist's tower… What?" he stood in shocked confusion for a heartbeat before turning back into the hut. Shon looked from the shack to Nangran, but before he could say anything, the mage was back, struggling with two long rods, one blue with what looked like waves painted all around, the other black and studded with diamonds.
"Don't just stand there!" Ivelm snapped at the two as he finally managed to slip the blue rod into a sheath at his side. He then pointed the diamond rod at the space between two close-growing trees. Shon heard him say something unintelligible, and one of the diamonds shot out of the tip of the rod to hover between the trees before expanding into a portal.
Beyond the magical gate, Shon could hear the fire roar. It sounded how he imagined the burning hells might sound, but as he followed the two men through, he realized his imagination was tame by comparison.
The smell of burning flesh and hair choked him as they stepped clear of the gate's magic. The heat smashed into them like a wall, and all three brought their arms up to shield their faces. Around them were the charred remains of what looked like humans, their faces buried in the mud as if they'd been trying to run from the blaze. Shon had to swallow the bile that rose in his throat and focused instead on the fire Ivelm had said was a tower.
It was completely engulfed in bright flames of all colors. Squinting through the light, he could see the stone walls melting like wax. The arch of the doorway sagged in the middle, and Shon's eyes went wide. Someone was in there.
He would've had to shout over the roar of the flames, but it didn’t matter; Ivelm was already raising the blue wand, jerking his fingers in strange ways and mouthing words impossible to hear. Water shot out the tip of the wand with the force of a ballista and hissed against the glowing stones.
It wasn't possible. It must be a trick of the flickering flames. But the figure turned its face to them, long hair whipping about as it took steps in their direction.
"Don't just stand there, boy!" Ivelm screamed. "They must have a fire-resist spell; those things don't last forever!"
Nangran grabbed Shon’s upper arm, pulling him a step closer to the fire and down so he could shout in his ear, "Freeze a path."
Shon swallowed. He was so tired, literally drained. He didn't know what to do or how to do it. But the figure in the fire reached out to them only to pull away from a drop of molten rock. Shon fell to his knees, placing his hands on the ground and pleading silently to Hengist. He didn’t know what to do, didn’t know how to control the power. He tried picturing a path of snow between himself and the tower base, concentrating on it until the mental image overlaid the real world, as he did when imagining phantom fighters during practice.
Ice snaked its way from Shon's fingers towards the burning tower along his mental path, powered by the fear that he wouldn't be fast enough to save the person inside. The water from Ivelm's wand helped carve the way, and Shon grunted physically as he struggled to push mentally. His breathing came heavy and ragged. He could feel the fire melting the edges of the ice as if it were a part of him. Still, he fought back and forced it to continue to form into solid sheets moving closer and closer to the figure still trapped in the tower.
Wherever the ice formed solid, it stayed. The fire drawing back from it until, finally, it reached the doorway. He urged the ice to climb up the doorframe, to hold it in place and keep it from falling, from moving at all.
Shon was seeing double. He struggled to focus on the figure and flinched as they stepped onto the frozen path. The ice hissed and melted under their bare unsteady feet, he could feel it... feel them, their heat, on his ice.
It was a young woman. Or an older girl. She was naked; her clothes burned away by the fire. Her long hair was being blown forward by the heat of the burning tower, obscuring her face. As she moved closer, Shon could make out strange red stripes snaking around her body, standing in stark relief against her pale skin.
Ivelm stepped in front of him then, throwing Nangran's cloak around her shoulders as she crumpled to the ground. Nangran himself knelt beside Shon, resting one massive hand on the Squire's back. "You can stop, lad…" his voice trailed off, and Shon felt an emptiness open in his chest. No one could have survived that, not if they hadn't already made it to the entrance like the girl. As if to punctuate the thought, Shon managed to focus his eyes only to see the tower's entrance wall fold and collapse in on itself, the stones flowing like soft wax.
--- Table of Contents ---
Sorry for the double post today. I wanted to keep Ch 14 & 15 together.
Thanks for making it this far, you are the real MVP

You wouldn’t kill me. You’d miss me.
I never miss.

Pierce Brosnan is an Irish-American actor, most notable for his seven year tenure as British secret agent James Bond. The 1990s offered a sleek new vision for what was becoming “an old-fashioned spy series”, or so the studio feared. Bond was now in the Information Age, and his arsenal included high-tech computers and weaponry along with his standard firearms and gadgets.
This Bond is very much the most gadget-centric Bond to date. Things as mundane as watches, sunglasses or ballpoint pens could, in reality, be grappling hooks or incendiary grenades. However, he doesn’t rely solely on technology to get through his many adventures. He’s a competent martial artist and excels in gunfights, even when wildly outnumbered. Brosnan’s version of the secret agent is, in my opinion, the most well-equipped and one of the most physically able versions of the character.
Feats come from Goldeneye, Tomorrow Never Dies, The World is Not Enough and Die Another Day. Hover over a link to see which film it comes from.

Physicals

Strength

• Knocks over a large bookshelf
• Resists being pushed off a ledge by another man
• Tosses a chain onto a low-flying helicopter to cause it to crash

Endurance

• Swings through a window on a grappling cord, and he’s up and running a moment later
• He’s knocked down a ladder, but recovers by the time he gets to the bottom rung
• He jumps a helicopter on a motorcycle, then crashes through a roof, unharmed
• Continues fighting Stamper after a number of blows to the face
• Falls from a low hot air balloon onto a domed structure, and he recovers by grabbing some nearby cables
  • Bond suffered a dislocated collarbone after this fall, however
• He’s in close proximity to a small explosion, but stays mostly unharmed
• Gets electrocuted with a gauntlet that can output 100,000 volts, which leaves him writhing in pain but conscious
  • Scene describing the electrical weapon, where the 100,000 volt figure is from

Torture Resistance

• A look at some of the tortures Bond suffered in Korea, including beatings, being held underwater, and scorpion stings
  • This torture lasts 14 months, and Bond doesn’t share any details on MI6 in that time
  • A medical check up reveals scorpion venom and antidote in his system, confirming that specific torture method

Agility
Movement

• Catches up to an aircraft taking off on the runway
• Safely rolls out of a speeding car
• Runs and jumps into a closing metal door
• Catches up to an airplane during takeoff, jumping into the plane through the landing gear

Reflexes

• Evades a hail of automatic gunfire by dashing into cover
• When a man attempts to shoot Bond’s knees from nearly point blank range, Bond moves his legs to avoid the shots
• Performs a combat roll down stairs to avoid handgun fire
• Ducks to cover the moment he spots a shooter’s laser sight

Skill

Unarmed Combat

• Descends from an air vent and into a bathroom stall to take out a soldier
• [NSFW] Fights off Onatopp, an assassin who’s sexually excited by combat and murder
• Knocks out a man by slamming him into the walls of an elevator twice
• Has an extended fistfight with Alec Trevylyn, former agent 006, ending with Alec grabbing a handgun to hold Bond at gunpoint
• Punches a guy out in two strikes
• During a fight, he breaks a man’s arm, then punches him off a ledge
• Consistently one-punches goons
• Takes a couple strikes from a martial artist standing, then throws one right back
• Fights Mr. Kil in a room full of moving lasers

With Weapons

• Spots an attacker in the reflection of a bronze decoration, then uses the decoration to bludgeon them
• Knocks out Onatopp with a blow to the head with his pistol
• While on the ground, he kicks a chair at a man, then punches him out. He goes on to take a gunman out with punches and an elbow.
• Fights off four men who were beating him with a bat moments before, making heavy use of furniture and blunt items
• Steals a man’s knife, then pins his tie to a nearby counter
• Swordfights with a trained fencer, eventually switching to broadswords, where Bond draws first blood from the torso
• Stealthily dispatches a guard with a pistol whip

Gunfighting/Accuracy

• Shoots a cage holding many barrels, causing them to fall on a room full of gunmen
• Kills at least 8 men with a submachine gun in a short timeframe
• Turns around and shoots a gunman before he can kill his hostage. Note that Bond turns and fires right after the gunman receives orders to kill the hostage.
• Kills Onatopp by using her gun to shoot at a helicopter, causing it to crash and pull her into a tree
• Kills two men in a hallway with his Walther
• Disarms a former double-oh agent, then tosses him down stairs and fires on him with his own gun
• Spots a sneaking soldier dressed in black and kills him with a rifle
• Dual wields a rifle and a silenced handgun to clear a room of gunmen. He also makes use of a mounted missile launcher against groups of enemies.
• Fires on a guard before the guard can fire his weapon
• Shoots a gunman through a wooden floor
• Uses a human shield to block bullets, then returns fire, killing a gunman
• From a speeding hovercraft, Bond fires a submachine gun at a control panel to slam the doors shut
• From a speeding hovercraft, Bond hits small land mines to detonate them on his pursuers
• Uses a pistol to shoot a chandelier, causing it to fall on Lao

Athletics

• Performs a HALO jump into water, then immediately begins scuba diving
• Evades grenades and gunfire while skiing
• While skiing, Bond suddenly stops before a cliff, tricking a pursuer into falling off
• Performs a dive into a river from the third floor of a mansion
• Swims outside of a submarine, scaling the surface until he can re-enter the vessel on the other side. He had to hold his breath for almost two minutes while scaling the outside of the submarine.
• Infiltrates North Korea by simply surfing onto the coast of the country
• Parasurfs off a collapsing iceberg

Other

• Drives off a cliff on a motorbike, catches up to a falling plane in midair, then pilots the plane back into the sky
• When restrained, Bond uses his head to start a helicopter, then uses his head again to hit the eject button
• Drifts a tank, then drives through a building to cause untold property damage
  • Destroys a monument with the tank too, because why not
• While being choked, he uses the ejector seat on a fighter jet to fire an enemy soldier into an enemy fighter jet
• Along with another secret agent, Bond descends a skyscraper with a long banner, then kicks in a window to reenter the building
• Descends a tall building with some rope and an unconscious body
• Lowers his heart rate to trick medical staff and an EKG, then dispatches the staff and escapes the hospital
• Starts a helicopter in midair and lands safely

Arsenal

Weapons

• Sidearms include
  • Walther PPK with suppressor functionality
  • Walther P99
  • Smith & Wesson Model 10 HB
• A grenade disguised as a ballpoint pen
  • By tossing the grenade pen into a pool of fuel, an explosion and destructive fire is formed
• A grenade disguised as a lighter
• A combat knife
• A flashbang explosive disguised as a handgun, used to stun three gunmen, allowing Bond to dispatch them

Gadgets

• Bungee jumps off a dam, then uses a grapnel gun to safely pull himself closer to ground level
  • Uses a laser device to carve through metal, seemingly attached to the grapnel gun
• A small camera with a powerful zoom function. It can print the pictures when plugged into his car.
• A belt with a hidden high-tensile cord, enough to support Bond’s own weight
  • Using the belt cord, Bond swings Spider-Man-style across a room and out a window
• Sunglasses with built in X-ray vision, allowing Bond to detect concealed weapons and see through women’s clothing
• A jacket that contains an inflatable protective bubble, used to protect Bond and another person from a short fall and falling snow
• A lockpick disguised as a credit card
• A rebreather device
• Surprisingly low-tech wire cutters

Watches

• Laser emitter hidden in his watch, used to carve through the floor of a train
• A powerful flashlight built into a watch
• A small but powerful grappling hook built into his watch, able to lift him up to a high ceiling by attaching to a metal girder
• A small C4 detonator, controlled by a button on his watch
  • Turning a knob on his watch lets him activate the detonator

Cell Phone

• A cell phone that acts as a fingerprint scanner, a powerful taser and as a remote control for the BMW
  • Uses the taser device to fry an electric lock
  • Tricks an assassin into tasing himself with the cell phone
  • The fingerprint scanner quickly bypasses an electronic fingerprint lock by replicating the last fingerprint on the lock
  • The cell phone also holds a small lockpick

Pulse Ring

• A ring used to shatter unbreakable glass with a high-frequency pulse
• The ring is used to shatter a glass floor, allowing Bond to escape gunpoint
• The ring can be used to destroy the Vanish’s windshield, which is bulletproof

Vehicles

BMWs
General

• A BMW with machine guns, GPS tracking system, a remote control system and a voiced computer
• Bond pops the back window, then jumps in to drive himself away with the cell phone remote controller

Durability

• Windows resistant to sledgehammers
• A body resistant to gunfire
• Automatically re-inflatable tires

Armaments

• The BMW has an electric security system to deter intruders
• The BMW can release stun gas from the sides
• Small missiles can be fired from the top of the vehicle to destroy obstacles
• Caltrops to destroy tires
• An extremely situational tool, a small buzzsaw to cut wire

Other Models

• He drives BMWs modified by Q to carry weapons and gadgets
• A different self-driving model of BMW
  • Equipped with guided missile system

Speedboat

• A small speedboat with afterburners
  • An armored body, resistant to mounted gunfire
  • Limited diving capabilities
  • Equipped with dual homing torpedoes
  • Can even drive on land for a limited time with use of the afterburners

The Vanish

• The Q-modified Aston Vanquish, a high-tech, light-bending sports car, invisible to the naked eye
  • The Vanish does appear on thermal imaging, however
• Target-seeking shotguns on the hood
  • The automatic shotguns can intercept missiles before they hit the Vanish
• Resistant to bullets, although they disrupt the adaptive camouflage
• It’s flipped over by a rocket, but with clever use of the sunroof and ejector seat, Bond can flip the car back over
• It uses tire spikes to maintain traction, allowing it to drive on ice unimpeded

Miscellaneous

• M believes that if there’s any chance of success at all, then Bond will succeed, admitting that he’s the best agent in MI6
• He will absolutely kill women he’d loved in the past
• All those vodka martinis have left him with a less than perfect liver
• Once carried cyanide if he were ever captured, but Bond threw it away years ago
• He keeps his weapons in good condition

Timestamp: https://imgur.com/a/5vn3blL
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https://imgur.com/a/5vn3blL
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