shifting sand dunes

Shifting sand dunes reveal large Bronze Age settlement

Shifting sands have revealed a significant complex of Bronze Age buildings in Orkney.

Archaeologists made the discovery at Tresness in Sanday while on a walk in poor weather on Monday.

The remains of 14 houses and stone tools, including knives, have been described as “one of the biggest complexes of Bronze Age settlement in the Scottish isles”.

The finds on the beach could be more than 4,000 years old.

Archaeologists believe the houses were buried by sand dunes in the second millennium BC - but have recently been exposed by the actions of weather and the sea. Read more.

Regular day at work

Context: Our party and some of our men (we have a mercenary company) are out scouting. We walk along a river and the wizard feels a strange magical shift looking at the sand dunes surrounding it. This has happened before but around a bush in another area. He becomes distracted and starts focusing in on it to determine what it is etc. The cleric (who is officially the captain for the merc company) groans and glares.

C: Leave it. It will take hours. We have work to do.

W: Go on ahead, I’ll catch up.

The cleric is a soldier to the core, in the leave no man behind kind of way. They bicker about it for a while. The cleric runs out of patience.

C: I cast detect magic. What is it?

DM: Remnants of an ancient magical event, clearly black magic or death magic. 

C: Okay, it’s the remnants of an ancient magical event or what not. Necromantic or some kind of black magic shit. Can we go now?

W: That’s really interesting. You can go ahead.

C: Motherf…. Fine. Darek (second in command of the mercs) come with me, take four of the archers with you. The rest of the infantry stays here and makes sure the wizard is safe.

W: Nothing will happen. The event of undead rising is very unlikely.

Cleric and co walk away, catching up with our scouting rogue. Five hours later (in-game time not irl time), and after losing one of the archers, and almost the rogue, to a giant lizard/dinosaur and wading through leech infested marshes they come out on the other side of the river, builds a raft and fetches the wizard who just started walking down the beach again with our foot soldiers.

W: Ah there you are! Had a nice walk did you?

C (OOC): I do not hit him. Do I get an inspiration for that? 

DM: No, but your men are impressed by your self-control.


What of the wind
shifting several sand dunes;
the setting sun
behind their versants;
the night that comes
without its moon;
how are the flowing rivers
unsoiled by what makes them seep;
how is vision undistorted
by the earth they hold;
how viscous the auburn –
I’m of intent to examine
their texture in my fingers
like a connoisseur of silk, of cashmere;
what is the value of the gold
betwixt the bosoms of copper;
what if its rust is scraped
to reveal the red Nile submerged;
which god slumbers
in the shade of your lashes;
which county or country
do they call home;
whose reflection is that
in the lowered moat of their fort;
how does hope flee
such intimate cages;
where does one find
a replicate perception,
such a truth whose timbre
is douse in fiery resolution?