Friends At The Table

And so the season turns, and the cold winds sweep in, and candles and fires and stoves are lit. Black branches against a white sky. There are more stories to tell, though. There are always more stories to tell. It’s not long before we meet our old friends again, I promise. They’re waiting, right now. They’re kicking the frost off their boots, cold fingers on metal buckles. Before we find them again, though, there is an old story to tell. Perhaps you’ve heard it before. Perhaps this is the first time you’ve heard it. There’s a small island, you see? Waves crash around its rocky coast. There is the silhouette of a tower. It’s better, don’t you think, to bring everybody up to speed? Hosted by Austin Walker (@austin_walker) Featuring  Ali Acampora (@ali_west), Keith J Carberry (@KeithJCarberry), Jack de Quidt (@notquitereal), Nick Scratch (@drevilbones), Andrew Lee Swan (@Swandre3000), Art Tebbel (@atebbel) Produced by Ali Acampora (@ali_west) Cover Art by Craig Sheldon (@shoddyrobot) Episode description by

Hey everyone! Here we are again with no new episode. We really really hate doing this and promise that there will some real and true and good content for you here next week. Marielda ended at the best and worst time because someone is launching a new website and that's taking a ton of time, so at least this interruption is happening inbetween seasons but we still don't feel good about it. We're really sorry! We'll still be doing season 1 recaps the next two weeks. They're going to be very, very good but we just need a little more time to make them perfect.  If you're looking for something to tide you over for the next week Austin was a player (I know) on a new episode of RollPlay: One Shot GM'd by Adam Koebel (author of Dungeon World) and with a bunch of other cool people. Thank you so much for understanding, thank you for your patience, thank you for all of your support. See you on the other side! ~Ali Acampora (@ali_west) on behalf of the whole cast: Keith J Carberry (@KeithJCarberry), Andi Clare(@captaintr

Hey everyone! Sorry for taking a week off, but at least it gives us an opportunity to speak to the audience directly. Thank you so much for all of support for the show and especially for Marielda. While I have you, let me go over all the places you can find Friends at the Table: www.friendsatthetable.net www.twitter.com/friends_table www.facebook.com/friendsatthetable And as for the shoutouts Austin made, the Friends at the Table forum is fatt.proboards.com and Rho's art can be found over at their twitter, twitter.com/eefusi. That's all for today. Thank you again and have a good week! ~Ali Acampora (@ali_west) on behalf of the whole cast: Keith J Carberry (@KeithJCarberry), Sylvia Clare (@captaintrash), Jack de Quidt (@notquitereal), Janine Hawkins (@bleatingheart), Nick Scratch (@drevilbones), Andrew Lee Swan (@Swandre3000), Art Tebbel (@atebbel) and our host Austin Walker (@austin_walker) A transcription is available for this episode here.A full list of completed transcriptions is available here. Our tra

FOREWORD to The Illustrated Concordance of Marielda, Second Printing No chronology will be observed here, nor could one ever be observed—Marielda resists sequential arrangement. Where other atlases and dictionaries seek to duplicate the facts of a culture, treat this text instead as a replica of Marielda’s constant reconfiguration. Thus, the reader should use this concordance as if they were wandering through a city street on the afternoon of an empty day. Follow the the capricious arcs of the written characters from one entry to the next, like the scent of an unseen cafe in the distance. Or, move from entry to entry with the speed and purpose of a busy hour of errands. But understand that neither of these methods will bring you to more truth than any other. As with a mirror, you will get out of this text only as much as you put into it. But if I may make one recommendation: Begin with the entry on dreams. Though there may be no worse place to begin than the reveries of those poor citizens, there is neither a

It was strange. Every morning you’d see The Black Slacks walking to work. By this point, the air would crackle around them, thick with rumours of another potential strike, another march. They’d walk in groups, or in pairs, or alone. Hands in pockets. They whistled. But not that morning. At first, it was as if they’d vanished. District management began to panic, sending runners to nearby factories to confirm reports: The Black Slacks had disappeared. No. Not disappeared. In The Southern Bucket, a woman in plain clothes finished her drink and stood up, and, with the brilliant rush of the sound of the chairs on stone, the rest of the pub stood up with her. They poured out into the street and mingled with the other citizens and on the other side of town a storehouse containing sleeping pala-din exploded. Men and women dessed like anybody else stepped out of the crowd and moved quickly to barricade Maddermarket Street. Another pala-din storehouse became flame, and the flow of foot traffic in the city suddenly beca

In one way or another, High Sun Day is celebrated all across Hieron. After all, there is a day each year on which the sun hangs in the sky, resplendent, for what feels like an impossibly long time. After all, there is a day each year on which the heat gets so strong, the weight of the summer becomes so much, that a celebration must be thrown. On the perimeters of encampments on the plains and forests, light dances brilliantly, impossibly. The orcs have called up thousands of reflective objects, shields, mirrored boxes, from their collections and positioned them along the tops of the walls. From a distance, the settlements appear ringed by flame. The sun does not reach the dwarven cities, deep underground, but the stone feels warm to the touch. They close the heavy doors and snuff out the light and in the darkness hear the sound of the stone cooling. In Marielda, there is a train. There is a train and a volcano and dancing in the streets. A god beloved and feared, a populace, for once, at ease. It is High Sun

Today is Sunday, and not just any Sunday, it is the Sun Day, the Long Day, the Day of High Sun. Once a year, sometime in the final month of the calendar, the sun offers its light to us for 20 full hours. Each year, this event comes on a different day, and it takes the applied knowledge of scholars and mystics to narrow down its arrival. But the moment that the particular day is known, people across Marielda prepare for the festival. Special dishes are made: fig-and-fishtail pies; huge, communal bowls of pasta; slow roasted pork cooked for weeks over the heat of the sea. Adults set aside holiday outfits, and children begin building their bracelets of iron ring—ready to be shook in arhythmic joy at the arrival of the warm glow on the eastern horizon. On the day of High Sun, Marielda celebrates life, safety, and contentedness. The city gives praise to Samothes for providing them protection and sustenance, even in grim times. In Chrysanthemum, people celebrate the day privately, among close kin and kind, sitting

According to the scholars at the Sonorous Academy, there are three important songs in Marielda. The first, “High Pyre Adagio,” has its origins in songs of performative devotion, and emulates the distant, yet deep affection of the God-King Samothes with a temperate piano. The second is “The Last Eve of Summer,” a chamber sonata composed by the so-called traitor Samot during his stay in the City of Light—allegedly written for a particularly talented clarinetist, though no records support this claim. The third, “The Autumn (Lasts A Long Time Here),” predates both Marielda and the City of Light. Built around a memorable guitar melody, it has no clear origin—both the elves of the Western Wood and the refugee population of Emberboro independently claim that it has been in their respective cultures for centuries. These, say the scholars of the Sonorous Academy, are the three songs that matter in Marielda. But the people in that city by the sea don’t care what the scholars say. They’re too busy dancing to a tune that

The nearest pub to Memoriam College is called The Blue Boar and, on the night of the Valentine Affair, the publican leaned out of the door and wondered if she smelled smoke. She ducked back inside and picked up a broom, swept the floor absentmindedly. Customers would be arriving soon, she could ask them if anything was burning. Inside The Gardeners, just down the road, two regulars were engaged in an argument about whether or not a rank of pala-din marching past the window were headed for Memoriam, nonsense, no, it’s a legitimate patrol. It is! By the end of the night, you could smell the soot from The Lamplighter’s Rest, a mediocre coaching inn on the far side of town. In cramped rooms on the third floor, people pressed up against windows to see the red glow on the horizon. The distant sound of gunfire. This week on Marielda: The Valentine Affair Pt. 4 Dark smoke fills the air Hosted by Austin Walker (@austin_walker) Featuring  Ali Acampora (@ali_west), Sylvi Clare (@captaintrash), Jack de Quidt (@notquite

The citizens of Marielda close their eyes and dream of fire and water. On some nights in Canopy Row, people dream of crisp leaves, and residents of Emberboro wake suddenly with the taste of smoke in their mouths. Some years ago, a pamphlet was distributed in the city that purported to identify the difference between dreams and visions. Sceptics passed it between themselves and scoffed, others pinned it up in the windows of shops and apartment buildings. It described the difference between a lake and an ocean. The details are unclear in the memory, more than that is hard to say. There was a lake. There was a wide, black sea through which no lava flowed. This week on Marielda: The Valentine Affair Pt. 3 Hey... pinch me. Am I dreamin'? Hosted by Austin Walker (@austin_walker) Featuring  Ali Acampora (@ali_west), Sylvi Clare (@captaintrash), Jack de Quidt (@notquitereal) and Andrew Lee Swan (@swandre3000) Produced by Ali Acampora (@ali_west) Cover Art by Craig Sheldon (@shoddyrobot) Episode description by Jac

The bells of Memoriam College ring out from high in the tower. At the top of the hour, The Diligent Peal marks the start and end of classes, ushering students from room to room. At half past, The Indolent Peal chimes, waking students who have slept in, letting them know exactly how long they have to get to class. The bells don’t ring cleanly; the first note is pitched differently to the third, for example. The fifth sounds as thought it belongs to an entirely different tower. There is a rumour that, on the foundation of the college and the building of the tower, one bell was taken from the spires of each of Marielda’s parishes and installed in Memoriam. Perhaps it is untrue. Who could say. Climb the bell tower and look out at the other churches in the distance, hear their distant notes. What a beautiful view. What a beautiful city. This week on Marielda: The Valentine Affair Pt. 2 Shh! Quiet in the library! Hosted by Austin Walker (@austin_walker) Featuring  Ali Acampora (@ali_west), Sylvi Clare (@captaintr

Memoriam College only wears flowers for one week a year. On Sunday morning of that week, they send a man called Alexander to fetch them from the florists on Today-And-Tomorrow Street. He carries them back to the building and, balanced on a ladder, arms full of blooms, fixes the arrangements above the balconies. As he works, butchers and chefs down in the kitchens peer at yellowed recipe cards, trying to remember just how they made these dishes last year. In the empty refectory, Prelate Silas practices the grace he knows so well, looking at himself in the mirror. You’re getting old, he thinks. He sounds out the prayer’s vowels and its consonants carefully. He practices a smile. With eyes closed, he imagines exactly the day that lay ahead. Across town, five scoundrels do exactly the same. This week on Marielda: The Valentine Affair Pt. 1 You did remember to study, right?   Hosted by Austin Walker (@austin_walker) Featuring  Ali Acampora (@ali_west), Sylvi Clare (@captaintrash), Jack de Quidt (@notquitereal) a

For the baker, news of a brewing turf war is a good sign. Hungry fighters are mouths to feed, and so they tend to their ovens and wipe flour from their brows. For the smiths and armorers too, business goes up as neighbors and governesses double up on weapons kept behind doors and under desks, just in case, just in case. Fewer people play on the streets, but the music in pubs and cafes is louder than ever—a good fight deserves a little accompaniment. Flag-makers and seamstresses see a brief upturn in trade as symbols of gangs and factions are hastily embroidered onto collars and lapels. In Marielda’s language of flowers, the azalea has come to symbolise the moment where, just before entering the water, the diver takes one final, deep breath. They are blossoming early this year. This week on Marielda: War and Azaleas You better watch your step. Hosted by Austin Walker (@austin_walker) Featuring  Ali Acampora (@ali_west), Sylvi Clare (@captaintrash), Jack de Quidt (@notquitereal) and Andrew Lee Swan (@swandre3

To look at a city from above changes it irrecoverably, and so it was for the passengers on Train Day. And say what you like, but the windows in the carriages seemed each to show a different city, a different nest of streets. Those in the engine room saw the smoke from the factories and furnaces, and Marielda hissed and smouldered. Those in the rear carriages looked down upon Canopy Row and wondered whether Chrysanthemum Parish had always been so close. Passengers in the dining carriage looked down onto the parks and boulevards and Marielda smiled back in cypress trees and laurel bushes. No windows lit the pala-din's carriage as they waited in the dark, and for them, in that moment, Marielda barely existed at all, as if a dream recounted long ago. There is a word for all of this, my friends, taking many meanings across our wide city, and the word is reconfiguration. This week on Marielda: The Crosstown Job, Pt. 2 Just for a moment, you felt safe... Hosted by Austin Walker (@austin_walker) Featuring  Ali Acam

Marielda is a city filled with scoundrels. Bakers lean on the scales as they count loaves of bread. Men and women in pubs shoot loaded dice. Art dealers swear, solemnly swear, that this is a genuine Sabbatini, just look at the brushstrokes. No, scoundrels in Marielda are ten-a-penny. But sometimes, the sun smiles, and its light shines upon those who have something… particular about them. Look, there they are now. A strongman, binding up his fists in front of a mirror. A dancing master, marking time with a dagger. A little alchemist emerging from a cloud of something purplish. And an alabaster figure, face covered by the wide brim of a hat. Step forward into the light, my friends. This Week on Marielda: The Crosstown Job Pt. 1 When I see your face, it's like lookin' into a mirror.   Hosted by Austin Walker (@austin_walker) Featuring  Ali Acampora (@ali_west), Sylvi Clare (@captaintrash), Jack de Quidt (@notquitereal) and Andrew Lee Swan (@swandre3000) Produced by Ali Acampora (@ali_west) Cover Art by Cra

For a while, everything was going just fine in Marielda. Sure, there was some dissent among the citizens—but what city is free of that? In general, people were coming together, rebuilding, taking care of each other. Canopy Row wasn't thriving, but it was definitely surviving. Knowledge was spreading throughout the city. Even them Cobbins had begun to find their place. And then, sometime in the middle of the year, everything seemed to turn. First, the marble-faced pala-din came marching from the sea, half-alive extensions of Samothes' personal brand of justice. Then... well, as we'd soon learn, the pala-din weren't even the half of it.   This week on Marielda: The City of Light Pt. 2   I wonder what ever happened to her...     Hosted by Austin Walker (@austin_walker) Featuring Keith J Carberry (@KeithJCarberry), Janine Hawkins (@bleatingheart), Nick Scratch (@drevilbones), and  Art Tebbel (@atebbel) Produced by Ali Acampora (@ali_west) Cover Art by Craig Sheldon (@shoddyrobot) Music by Jack de Quidt (@no

In the time of fraught paladins and wavering wizards, of contemptible fighters and indignant druids, of wide eyed rangers… and of bards, the people of the continent of Hieron recover and rebuild in the aftermath of a cataclysm.    But, after all, for every inside there is an outside—no disaster was the first of its kind, except, of course, for… well...     And so, in the years prior to the event that would come to be called the Erasure, in a time of civil conflict, the people of Hieron faced calamity, and they sought to recover and rebuild.    For a long while, blessed Samothes led His Somber Campaign against the heretical armies of the Boy-Traitor Samot, clashing steel in valleys and volleying arrows across plainlands. In time, though, your wise lord, the god-alive, recognized that there had been a stalemate, and that you, His people, were suffering.   And so, He returned to you, to His home, your city in the south, moving at fast pace, the dust of the Traitor Charioteers rolling like thunder behind him. And

With COUNTER/Weight firmly wrapped up, we take some time to answer fan questions, discuss the highs and lows of the season, and talk a little bit about what’s coming next for Friends at the Table!   For those following along at home, make sure to check out the following things during the relevant segment of the show: This map of Mode City, September; this tweet which explains the actual, true origins of Divines and Riggers; this picture of a robot friend from Titanfall 2.   This week on COUNTER/Weight: Live Post-Mortem   Take a bow.   Hosted by Austin Walker (@austin_walker) Featuring Keith J Carberry (@KeithJCarberry), Jack de Quidt (@notquitereal), Ali Acampora (@ali_west), Sylvi Clare(@captaintrash), Andrew Lee Swan (@andrewleeswan) and Art Tebbel (@atebbel) Produced by Ali Acampora Cover Art by Craig Sheldon (@shoddyrobot) Music by Jack de Quidt A transcription is available for this episode here.A full list of completed transcriptions is available here. Our transcriptions are provided by a

Hey everyone, we are taking a week off here at Friends at the Table but we do have an announcement to make. We're going to be doing a post-mortem for COUNTER/Weight that will be streamed live at twitch.tv/friendsatthetable on Tuesday, June 21st at 7 PM EST! We're really looking forward to looking back on the show and answering some of your questions so please send those questions in to friendsatthetable[@]gmail.com or via DM to our Twitter, @Friends_Table. We will be recording the discussion and releasing it as a proper episode, so please send in questions even if you don't think you'll make the live stream! Thank you so much for listening and for supporting us. Making COUNTER/Weight has been something really special for us and a big part of that has been due to all the support we've gotten from you. Ali goes over all of the games that we played this season and you can find more about them here. See you next week~! A transcription is available for this episode here.A full list of completed transcriptions is a

15,000 years or so before the September Incident, it went something like this:   Somehow, they'd survived. They'd peeled across the galaxy itself, launched by the combined force of a half dozen stellar combusters. Shielded by Rigor's endless mass, they'd subsisted on machine-assembled proteins and nutrients, suffering in the lonely dark at high speeds.    They weren't quite candidates, but they were the closest thing Rigor had. So it stung, in so far as Rigor can be stung, when they slipped from its grip in the light of the Golden Branch. As the bulk of its body bore deep into the ice of Ionias (and deeper still into slumber), they wrenched free from it and found land elsewhere, taking bits of the machine god with them.   There was a debate among the survivors, though. What to do with the remnants? With living technology that protected and provided for them in the dark just as it had once exploited and used them?    Some survivors joined under the banner of a young, charismatic leader--Chess Kesh--whose optim