ancient graveyard


Mysticisme et féerie au cimetière juif de Worms. Une merveilleuse découverte et assurément mon coup de coeur de ce séjour en Allemagne. C'est dur de trouver les mots pour décrire ce lieu, le plus vieux cimetière juif d'Europe qui a survécu au temps et à la barbarie nazie (ce qui est vraiment extraordinaire). C'est peut être pourquoi on s'y sent comme hors du temps. Coupé du monde extérieur, très peu de tombes modernes et surtout le silence absolue.

(Mysticism and fairy at the jew’s cemetery in Worms. A marvellous discovery and definetly my favourite place during this trip in Germany. It is hard to find the right words to discribe this place, the oldest jew’s cemetery in all Europe. Which has survived the ravages of time , specialy the Nazi barbarism (a trully incredible fact). It is probably why we really fell out of time here. Completely cut off from the outside world. Only a few modern grave stone and above all absolute silence.)

Sunday Respite - Necromancy: Making Friends

I will be truthful, I have never had a player choose to devote themselves to the dark-arts … in-game, obviously. Well, and out of game. Usually they avoid the venerable school with a distance rivaled only by that given to inconspicuous props upon pedestals in wide, empty dungeon rooms. Perhaps its a dislike of suiting the stereotypical (yet badass) summoner of souls and entrapper of the dead, perhaps its a desire to pursue a more immediately rewarding school such as evocation or illusion. I say bah-humbug to this. If someone wishes to play in my game and hang out in haunted graveyards, chanting ‘til the pale moon sinks beneath the horizon, then I say good on you, pal.

Here are some enticing items to tempt the pure and incorruptible over into the blackest fifth and rotten waste, where mortal pleasures and obsessions are diseases to be cured through the sacrifice and suffering of the pursuit of true knowledge. Unlock that fascination, surrender to the whispers, take our hand and join us beneath the cloaking shadows of the dungeon walls.

Hooded-Cowl of the Antler

A warm and well-made cowl which tussles and dances in the midnight winds. A beautiful inner of amber weave gleams like torchlight under the absorbing darkness of the exterior; empty as sorrow, lonely as a blackened tide washing over barren shores of ancient bones and tattered flotsam. The collar ties loop together over the chest around an iron ring, and the hood obscures face and eye from any passing observer. The wearer, upon command, can pull forth from the speechless depths of the earth a great, prideful stag of ashen bone and gleaming frost. It howls out onto the wilderness and slowly lowers its head toward its master, offering a ride upon its icy spine. The stag can run as fast as any horse, living or dead, and can outrun a jackal pack over open ground. It leaves behind a path of frigid air, with pebbles and stones lathered in peeling cold for hours beyond its passing. Those unfortunate enough to cross this trail risk having their blood lock in their veins as they idly step through its trail.

Hangman’s Gift

This decoration is a rotten, gnarled length of thick rope, tied around the wearer’s neck with a clubbish knot hanging below the chin. The trailing fibers are frayed and sliced to wire-thin strings. This necklace, or sorts, is worn by those who have survived executions and certain death through one means or quite another. The gallows aren’t suited for them, and many executioners recognise such a symbol; one of an untouchable status. This man should be dead. Whilst the Gift is adorned, the wearer doesn’t require food, water, nor even air to survive. They live on through the worst that life can throw at them, and much beyond that.

Motley Neck-Knife

The Motley blade is a tidy-little throat slicer. Its a short, silver blade, barely an inch long, secured upon an ivory grip. Its sheath is that of a simple, black leather with a crude zig-zag stitching around its opening. When the Motley dagger earns its name and separates a man from his life with an abrupt, yet precise, infliction, that same body that dropped not two seconds ago jolts back to its feet at his killer’s side. Most guards have seen a murder in their time, so corpses scares them little. Some have even witnessed petty undead, so a shambling body upon its twisted ankles and bloated joints is nothing to panic over. But none had seen the smiles that the Motley carver grows over its victim’s lifeless mugs. Certainly none had heard the screams of the dead men inside as they watched in horror, helplessly passive as they see their own, empty forms stride forth towards friend and fellow alike with a feral madness burning in their bloodshot, and crow-pecked eyes.

Dead-Shot Arrows

These arrows are made of human bone. Their feathered ends are human hairs, the shaft is a carved femur, and the head is a incisor tooth, carved to a needle’s edge. They feel heavy to hold in mortal hands, like all of the goodness in the world and your head bleeds out onto the floor as you level it upon your pale palm. The munition is said to be made exclusively from the skeletons of priests and paladins from wherever they may be found. No-other would do, clearly. For when you test the wrath of the divine you may as well go full-in. Why not desecrate the holy dead? That query becomes difficult to dispute once the arrow meets a target. The arrow stings like a wasp swarm, digging out the skin, itching the blood like the veins are full of sandpaper. Then the victim’s bones begin to creak like heavy timbers under a sea storm, bending and twisting in horrific pain. Then they splinter and fracture through skin like porcupine quills as the bones begin to pull themselves out of their flesh.

Pipes of the Grave

A lonely city-bard may perchance these wooden pipes of birch and green leather in a lonely shop window on a lonely street they have never once walked. The shop-keep promises through yellowed teeth and dry lips that the instrument is as perfect as a true-lover’s kiss, bringing true emotion to any tale told with heartful passion and intent: a memorable performance if there would ever be one. The bard may yet further be intrigued at the low price, and may further yet buy them with a smile gleaming with the thought of gold and silver coins aplenty. The performances that she plays will sing like mountain cries and wail with forlorn hopes, echoing through every generation’s ears, bringing both youth and elders alike to rapturous applause. The crowd is crying, only not in joy. They scatter like woodlice as the lush grasses of the city park grounds split open into raw dirt and clawing fingers, as the generations lost before join in on the celebrations, tearing their rotten hulks up from the ancient graveyards buried and forgotten below. His performance ceases, and the dead collapse into piles of bone. She discards the instrument, destroys it perhaps, and she returns to her original flute. Unfortunately, once the Pipes have been played, the curse it contracts is not so easily gotten rid of, and the dead will rise wherever she sings.


Pixie x


Buried For 1000 Years: The Graveyard Of Vikings.

As for the remains of settlements, it has been reported that the remains of two villages have so far been excavated, one situated to the north, and another to the south. The former is said to have been dated to 700 – 900 AD, whilst the latter to 1000 – 1150 AD. The northern village is said to consist of several houses, fences, five wells and a road. It has also been estimated that there were six families inhabiting this village, each of which consisting of between 10 and 15 family members. There were also smaller buildings for work purposes, and it has been suggested that spinning and weaving were carried out in such structures. Similar buildings were found in the southern village.  This was the last settlement on Lindholm Høje.

Lindholm Hoje is an ancient graveyard of the Vikings that had been lost for one thousand years, buried beneath thousands of tons of sand. As many as 700 burials, along with the remains of settlements from the Viking Age and the preceding Germanic Iron Age have been found at this important archaeological site in Denmark.

During the Cretaceous period, chalk formations were created along the Limfjord in Denmark. These formations, which are in the form of hills, stretch from Aalborg to the east. One of these hills is Lindholm Høje, which is situated on the northern side of the Limfjord, opposite the modern city of Aalborg. One reason that made this area an attractive place to establish a settlement is that this is where the Limfjord is at its narrowest, which made it an important crossing between the North Jutlandic Island and the Danish mainland. Apart from that, Lindholm Høje occupied a strategic defensive position. Rising to 42 m (137 ft.) above sea level, anyone living on the hill could command an excellent view over the fjord. This meant that if an enemy was approaching the hill, they would be easily detected. Thirdly, the soil on the hill is said to be drier than the surrounding area, which made cultivation easier.

Lindholm Høje was already settled around 400 AD. This is supported by the graves that were found at the site, the oldest of which have been dated to this point of time. These graves can be found on the top of the hill, and as one progresses down Lindholm Høje, the graves in turn become younger. The oldest graves are said to contain inhumation. This burial practice, however, is found to have changed not long after to cremation. Thus, the majority of graves (apart from the oldest ones) found at Lindholm Høje have been found to contain cremated human remains.

As for the remains of settlements, it has been reported that the remains of two villages have so far been excavated, one situated to the north, and another to the south. The former is said to have been dated to 700 – 900 AD, whilst the latter to 1000 – 1150 AD. The northern village is said to consist of several houses, fences, five wells and a road. It has also been estimated that there were six families inhabiting this village, each of which consisting of between 10 and 15 family members. There were also smaller buildings for work purposes, and it has been suggested that spinning and weaving were carried out in such structures. Similar buildings were found in the southern village.  This was the last settlement on Lindholm Høje.

One factor that may have resulted in the abandonment of the site as a place for human habitation is the phenomenon of sand drift. It has been stated that at the beginning of the Viking Age, most of Denmark was covered in forests. Over time, however, the trees were chopped down to make various things, such as houses, ships and roads. As a result of this deforestation, the land in the western part of Jutland became exposed to the rough westerly winds. This continuous exposure led to degradation in the quality of the soil, perhaps due to erosion. Additionally, large amounts of sand were carried by the winds, and covered the land.

When archaeologists began excavating in the 1950s, they found that Lindholm Høje was covered by a layer of sand that was several meters thick. The lack of suitable land for cultivation may have led the inhabitants of Lindholm Høje to migrate to somewhere else. On the other hand, the sand helped to preserve the burial sites, as well as the stone circles that marked the graves.


’ So what do you guys think: Ancient Mayan temple off the beaten path? ’
’ It has something to do with the ruins. ’
’ Why are they doing this? ’
’ We’re being quarantined here. We are being kept here to die! ’
’ We’re being quarantined here. ’
’ We are being kept here to die! ’
’ This doesn’t happen! ’
’ Four Americans on a vacation don’t just disappear! ’
’ Help me! Somebody, help! Somebody! Help! Help me! ’
’ How about you? Are you here by yourself? ’
’ Mm-mm, no, with my brother, but he, uh, left with some girl. ’
’ She’s an archaeologist. He went with her to a dig site. ’
’ And what are they digging? ’
’ Like an excavation? ’
’ Yeah, some ruins, I think. A Mayan temple. ’
’ Kind of like the ones that nobody here wanted to go to. ’
’ Apparently, it is not even in the guide books. VIP only. ’
’ Thank you for sharing that with everybody! ’
’ How much you want to bet she kisses him? ’
’ Alright, you know what? Oral sex, the winner receives. ’
’ People come from all over the world just to see these ruins. ’
’ I’m not taking you to some tourist trap, honey. ’
’ Well, you’re already dressed, so you might as well go without me. ’
’ Hey, but I don’t want to go without you. ’
’ _______ is going to be pissed if we miss it. ’
’ I bet she’s feeling pretty awkward right now, wouldn’t you? ’
’ I’m sure the more frightening whining of _____. ’
’ What are you so happy about? ’
’ Wait, how are we going to get back? ’
’ Well, we’re going to call him when we get out. ’
’ With what? We’re not going to get a signal out here. ’
’ Yeah, my phone should work. It’s a world phone. ’
’ Hello, can you hear me now? ’
’ So, there was this girl who got really really drunk one night… ’
’ Just a stupid game they were playing last night. ’
’ It’s here. This must be it. ’
’ That’s the path? Why was it covered? ’
’ It’s on the map. ’
’ Why would it be covered? ’
’ I don’t think that’s the right path. ’
’ Maybe the archaeologists don’t want people finding the site, guys. ’
’ Well great, they’re going to be thrilled to see us then. ’
’ We could be walking through an ancient graveyard right now. ’
’ Did you just mimic me? ’
’ There’s no signal. ’
’ Because if there was a signal on the road, you should… ’
’ Can you hear me now? What the fuck was that? ’
’ They keep coming. They’re setting up camps. ’
’ Maybe they’re preparing for something, like a sacrifice? ’
’ They won’t come up here, and now that we’re here they won’t let us leave. ’
’ So what do we do? Just wait for someone to find us? ’
’ We’re supposed to check out of the hotel tomorrow. ’
’ The hotel’s going to call the police. ’
’ But we know what happens if we leave. ’
’ We should save this. ’
’ I know, it’s just that we don’t have that much. ’
’ Okay, well we can all decide. ’
’ And right now, we don’t even have a day’s worth. ’
’ One of you has to go. ’
’ Each of us needs a half a gallon of water every day just to survive. ’
’ We’re going to check the rest of the rope and make sure it’s secure. ’
’ Why do we have to go? ’
’ Because you’re not strong enough. We need to work the crank. ’
’ Because you’re not strong enough. ’
’ Somebody is going to find us. We just have to be alive when they do. ’
’ Why won’t you fucking help us? ’
’ He won’t last much longer like this. We have to cut ‘em off. ’
’ We have to cut ‘em off. ’
’ Please tell me you’re joking. ’
’ Well, what the hell is septicemia, _____? ’
’ I’m telling you he won’t last through the day like this. ’
’ Without anesthesia? ’
’ The tourniquets are already in place. ’
’ We have to break the bones first, and then cut. ’
’ There’s no flesh covering his bones, _____. ’
’ This is so not okay! ’
’ I think making a run for it is our only chance. ’
’ Do you think they’re going to find us? ’
’ My boyfriend is fucking your girlfriend, that’s what’s going on! ’
’ Well, thank God we cut his legs off. ’
’ You don’t even know our names. ’
’ I was going to be a doctor. That was my dream. ’
’ No more cutting for today. ’
’ No! There is no fucking phone! ’

Hekate: Queen of the Witches

Origins: In Greece she was a pre-Olympian Goddess who aided Zeus in the battle against the Titans. He shared some of his power to with her in return. Hekate was the daughter of Perses and Asteria, she never married or had a regular consort. The monster Scylla was said to be her child. Originally she was Goddess of the wild places, childbirth and the crossroads. These are all in between spaces that are associated with the spirit world; for the wilderness is not yet tame, birth is the moment of life where death stands in waiting and the three ways cross roads intersect at a point that is between all the directions. She was called upon by the ancients to provide protection and wisdom at these critical points. As the in between spaces are the places where the veils between the worlds traditionally believed to be at their thinnest they are also associated with witches, magic and ghosts. From these links she gained the titles of Queen of witches and Queen of Ghosts and became a crone Goddess. Today she is considered to be a Goddess of crossroads as offerings were made to her on the night of the new moon. Hence she is also Queen of the night as she is linked to the darkest night. It was Hecate who heard the screams of Persephone as she was kidnapped by Hades. Later she became a good friend of Persephone, visiting her in the underworld.

Strengths: She was the powerful and wise gate keeper between the worlds.

Weaknesses: She was demonized in the early Christian era when she depicted as an ugly old woman.

Symbolism: Often shown as a triple Goddess with three faces or faces of a horse, a snake and a dog. The dark of the moon is linked with this Goddess. 

Sacred Animal: Dogs, horse and serpents were sacred to this Goddess, and black female lambs were sacrificed to her.

Sacred Birds: The owl which represents wisdom and far sightedness was associated with Hekate as she had the ability to see into three different directions at once and also had the ability to see and travel in the hidden realms.

Sacred Plants: Many hallucinogenic plants are linked to Hecate including: Belladonna, hemlock, Mandrake and poppies as these can all induce visions. The Yew tree is sacred to this Greek Goddess as it is linked with death and is often found in ancient graveyards. Other plants associated with this Goddess include aconite, dandelion, garlic, lavender and willow.

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Gravens / Gargoyles

Misery lingers.

Even long after it’s source has been forgotten it lingers.

Even after the corpses of the dead rot into nothing it lingers.

It infects the air.

It soaks into the ground.

It seeps into the very stones of the earth.

And sometimes these stones awaken and answer the call of the Yara.

In places flooded with misery such as crypts or graveyards the ancient structures gradually absorb Yara over the course of years as generation after generation gather to mourn their dead. Gradually this suffering becomes their own and animates them with cold life. They become Gravens; Dren born not from flesh and blood but from gargoyles, gravestones and

 Initially these changes are subtle; the expressions on statues grow distressed and sometimes appear to weep. Then come small changes in their position; a slight change in pose or a shift in their standing. Soon strange noises will echo from empty tombs. The statues will mysteriously move from one part of their domain to another overnight. Graveyards which show signs are likely the the domain of the Graven.

The Graven can take many different forms. They have been known to incorporate anything from statues to tombstones to the bones of the dead into their bodies. Some are elegant sculptures as beautiful as they are terrifying while others are grotesque tangles of cracked stone, twisted roots and coffinwood.  

In combat they slow but as strong as the stone they are carved from. Their sturdy composure makes them difficult to harm by any physical means short of a sledgehammer. However most can be outrun at a brisk pace. Thus they have to rely on cornering their victims by entrapping them in tombs or by feigning inanimacy until their victim are within reach. Once caught only a turn of the neck is needed for their victim be be at home in their crypt.

Most are bound to their domain; never venturing beyond the walls of their graveyard or out of their dark crypts. Some however will wander outside their domains and never return. Dormant Gravens have been found in the depths of remote forests and unreachable mountaintops. What compels them to do this is unknown. Perhaps they seek to flee the sadness which infects them and return once more to inanimacy.

Unlike other Dren the Graven are not entirely malevolent. Most function as guardians of their   act as gravekeepers for the nameless dead, remaining motionless unless someone is foolish enough  to disturb the dead in their slumber. Long abandoned graves have been found clean and weedless, as if worked by unseen hands. Some take this duty even further and continue gravedigging and burials, even if those they bury are not yet dead.

Artists :

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010. Re-design of an old thing. (I keep forgetting to post my doodlies here, haha!)

Safe pose is safe, but I was aiming at re-rendering/designing a monster from a reallyyyy old piece I did back in 2005 (shown below the first drawing — not sure why I was in advanced placement art, lol).

I believe different, more exciting poses/compositions might be in the works for this one…. I like the concept. The idea of random snowy monsters roaming around some ancient graveyards marked by sweet dead trees is appealing to me. B: 


So I’m officially a full week behind… whoops.

So Sunday was our day trip to Windsor! It was one of the optional trips arranged by the professors or whoever, so it’s free to us, like Harry Potter was! We have a group project for the structures class where we have to go visit three structures and then do analysis and stuff on them (construction people had to create a detailed schedule for the day we visited structures), so (due to our busy schedules) we used the day trip to our advantage! There are five us, and this is the group we’ve been doing most of our stuff in. They’re awesome! So we took the train to Windsor, had a scheduled bathroom break, wandered around town for around an hour (it was specific, but I don’t remember!) (we saw the crooked house, a church, an ‘ancient well’, cop, park, graveyard, street food, etc), had lunch, and then toured the castle! It was super pretty! Since we covered castles pretty recently and had to 3-D model one, we were pointed out all the things we had learned like good little nerds, so that was fun! The moat was turned into a garden which was pretty cool (it’s not like it was super functional by that point anyway- cannons and gunpowder pretty much made castles no longer helpful). We then toured the dollhouse (way cooler to see than I thought it would be) and state apartments inside the castle. The inside was super duper cool and pretty and ornate, but there were no pictures allowed, so you should definitely look it up! But since we were doing our project on this, we had to sketch it out just in case. So then some of the workers asked us about it and told us all kinds of stuff since they really cared about it and we listened attentively. We then heard the guards yell at somebody who was walking in their way and headed to our second structure, the Windsor Bridge, which connects Windsor to Eton. We took a break there until our schedule told us to go, and then headed to Eton to explore a little bit. There wasn’t a ton to see (especially since it was Sunday), so we went back in their gardens and wandered around and had a good time! We then caught the train back to London and went to the Chelsea Bridge, our third structure. It was a pretty far walk, and I need to go back for my research (apparently), so I might just wait until we go back as a group, since I’ll be there anyway. I don’t remember what I did after that, but it was a lot of walking and pretty late, so probably not much!

I started my tour of Hamilton’s life in reverse order, at his grave-site, in Lower Manhattan. Nestled in the modern cityscape at Broadway and Wall Street is Trinity Church and its ancient graveyard, where the dead date to the 17th century and tombstones read like a who’s who of “Hamilton” characters, on whose graves people now place rocks, coins and other mementos. A succulent houseplant was at the foot of Hamilton’s grave on the April morning of my visit.


At Trinity, Eliza’s grave is next to Hamilton’s and Angelica is thought to be in a nearby vault belonging to the influential Livingston family. Hamilton’s friend, the improbably named Hercules Mulligan, is several plots away.

“We don’t have the official numbers, but we anecdotally know that there’s more people that we see in the churchyard” since the musical opened, Trinity spokeswoman Lynn Goswick told me. Case in point: Our conversation was interrupted by a woman inquiring where Hamilton’s son Philip is buried. (He died in a duel more than two years before his father. The church doesn’t know whether he’s in an unmarked grave or plot somewhere nearby.)

My logical next stop was the ancient dueling grounds in Weehawken, N.J.

A quick Uber ride through the Lincoln Tunnel brought me to the cliff-top Hamilton Park, which stretches along the Hudson River and overlooks the bank where Hamilton was mortally wounded by Vice President Aaron Burr. The exact spot — approximately where Philip also was shot — is lost to history. But the picnic-perfect park reveals a phenomenal Manhattan skyline and a nearby bust of Hamilton marks the rough location where the statesman fell. Placed beside the bust is a rock that, according to legend, Hamilton leaned upon after being shot. People now throw pennies on it.

I asked a man who lives in the house directly opposite the bust whether he had witnessed the same Hamilton mania I had observed at the graveyard in Manhattan. No, he said, because New Yorkers think New Jersey is impossibly far away.

“Hamilton did not die in New Jersey, thank God. That is the worst thing that can happen to a New Yorker. They got him back into a boat. He did make it across to the West Village,” said Jimmy Napoli, who leads Hamilton walking tours, including a “Hamilton’s Wall Street” walk I went on. (For the record, I, too, took a boat back across the Hudson, in a ferry named “Alexander Hamilton.”)

At $50, the walk is a fraction of the musical’s price. And unlike Miranda, who gave his final performance as Hamilton on July 9 (the role is now played by his former understudy, Javier Muñoz), Napoli isn’t going away anytime soon. In fact, he has been giving Hamilton tours for decades.

“I have great vision and foresight. Twenty years ago, when I became a tour guide, I said to myself, ‘It’s just a matter of time before somebody writes a hip-hop musical about Alexander Hamilton, and I’m going to be on the ground floor when that happens,’ ” Napoli told my tour group of seven with a laugh. He then went on to pull history from the pavement for three hours, explaining where critical events happened and the founding fathers once lived, spots now mostly covered by high-rise buildings.

With his fast-paced New York gusto, Napoli’s could be the second best “Hamilton” show in town.

His favorite tour spot is Federal Hall, site of the First U.S. Congress, as well as the first Supreme Court and executive branch offices. But for me, the highlight was the room where it happens, the very location where Thomas Jefferson, James Madison and Hamilton held a private meeting in which the two Virginians agreed to round up congressional support for Hamilton’s plan for national assumption of state debts in return for Hamilton rounding up support to move the capital to Washington. The room, which was in Jefferson’s house, no longer exists, built over by yet another office building.

My next stop would be a house with rooms where a lot of things happened: the only home Hamilton ever owned, his Grange estate. But not before saying goodbye to my tour at Fraunces Tavern, where the nascent Treasury Department once leased rooms and both Burr and Hamilton attended a meeting one week before their duel.

Over lunch, William Carter, a dad from Fredericksburg, Va., who brought his teenage daughter, Kayla, told us how at first he had doubts: “I said ‘Rap and Hamilton? How dare you,’ ” but then was won over.

As Napoli put it, not only has Miranda “made Hamilton cool with the kids, I’ve got 80-year-old women from the South rapping in my face, which is really surreal.”

With that, I headed uptown to the Grange, Hamilton’s Federal-style house in Harlem in the shadows of what today is the City College of New York.


“Our visitation numbers have skyrocketed since the play came out and the demographics of the people have changed,” said park guide Gregory Mance, who explained that history majors and school groups have given way to “everybody.”

Archaeological Museum of Chania:

Teracotta figurine of a woman, which preserves its bright colors and gold-plated jewelry. It was found in the ancient graveyards of Kydonia (present Chania). Early Hellenistic period. It’s probably connected to an Alexandrian workshop.