I'm just watching the first stream and its honestly so insane to me. RT has only a Dewott and a Lilipup, and keeps talking about how he has no Pokemon, but refuses to level up Lilipup?
Stoutland is a perfectly fine option, with good Normal-Type STAB. He keeps saying that it's not worth training Lilipup...
...but he doesn't have any other Pokemon. The fuck do you mean it's not worth leveling up Lilipup?? He is literally your only other Pokemon?? I know he's probably going to get past Roxie just fine, but the snowball effect in Nuzlockes is the biggest run killer, and RT is just letting that snowball roll and roll and roll until it turns into an avalanche.
I understand that Dan wants to play this on cartridge, and I understand that he doesn't want to do rare candies. But if that's the case, then he needs to accept the harsh reality that he needs to either level grind or use the Daycare. Or, reset now and save yourself the next 10 hours when you wipe at a gym because you didn't have any options left.

I know this sub gets lots of posts like this, so if you make it through, thanks for reading.
I’ve just been diagnosed with a hip impingement with cam (left hip, 31f, athlete). I’ve been having pain in my groin, down the front of my hip, in my glutes for several years now, off and on, and then in January strained my left hamstring due to what I’m guessing is compensation for my weak, unstable hip.
I’ve been in physical therapy working on fixing my pelvic tilt, strengthening my core and trying in vain to improve hip internal rotation. The pain only got worse, so I’ve seen an ortho and had imaging. No tears, but ortho says a steroid shot and surgery to remove the cam lesion could help.
It wasn’t always this way: A year ago I was doing yoga and running and lifting with only intermittent pain. Now, my hip hurts daily. It gets worse while sitting and overall just feels disconnected from my body and weak.
I’ve never had surgery of any kind and a hip surgery at 31 sounds daunting. I want to try other interventions before that—but don’t know if there are any others. The practitioners I’ve seen have given up: basically get surgery or we don’t know how to help you.
My Achilles tendon and heel on the same side of my impinged hip have now started to hurt. I recognize my other muscles and their functions are starting to break down.
I read all sorts of advice that contradicts each other: do stretch your hip, don’t stretch your hip, do deadlift hinges, don’t do anything with a hip hinge, etc.
For those of you without tears, and who didn’t opt for surgery…yet…were there exercises you did to strengthen your hip function?
Did you find PT that actually helped you? What kinds of protocols did you do?
Did you stop all exercise activity to heal? I want to keep working out, but I fear I’m harming my body by doing so.
I’m not ready for surgery because I feel like I’m young and can do more work to help ease my pain…but I just feel lost at this point.

So I was looking for games to play on my phone as I'm currently traveling and have a lot of downtime and I saw that Morrowind runs quite well on android devices.
I'm a huge Skyrim fan and have been for years, but i have never played Morrowind before. Would my experience be drastically better if I wait to play on my computer when I'm back? I'm not dying to play it right now or anything, but i think it would be cool.
I would be playing it with touch controls only, no controller.

I have never played the original. I see the game is on sale on PS5 rn so I wanted to ask. This isnt meant to be a post to incite a bunch of people arguing over the checkpoint system, I just want a straightforward answer with a little bit of explanation if possible.
Are their checkpoints before the bosses? Like, right before?
Maybe this comparison could help: I played through both Elden Ring and Sekiro and loved both. Some of my favorite games ever. The checkpoints were very reasonable in those games and I never had to run back to bosses really with few exceptions. I picked up Bloodborne and surprisingly wasnt a fan. Checkpoints were too far away and I couldnt find my way around very well because everything looked the same despite the cool Victorian theme. I'm not interested in jogging back to a boss. If there are only a few notable instances, that's acceptable for me. But if it's consistent throughout the game that's gonna have to be a pass for me so I want to be careful before purchasing.

TWBS Previous Next First
-
---Esme’s perspective---
---Saturday, 11th of November, 2682 Terran Calendar---
---Southern England---
Fucking Sussex!
‘Can you send me to the Forth Valley?’
‘Oh, we can try… On an unrelated note, how’s your standard English? No problems in communicating?’
I should’ve just said ‘No, I have great difficulty in communicating in anything but Lallans Scots!’ instead of putting on my poshest English speech register to say ‘Marjorie dearest, would you be a lamb and pass another buttered scone… hold the raspberry jam, it’s far too spicy for me!’ which she told me she’d take as a ‘Yes.’
“This is an English language barracks. If you have been directed here in error, please make yourself known to barracks staff for reassignment.” plays a loud, prerecorded Welsh language announcement, over speakers.
They’re fucking rubbing it in!
“This is an English language barracks. If you have been directed here in error, please make yourself known to barracks staff for reassignment.” it repeats in Scots Gaelic.
“Ceci est une caserne Anglophone. Si vous avez été assigné ici par erreur, veuillez vous faire connaître auprès du personnel de la caserne pour une réaffectation.” it says in what I’m 90% sure is a French version of the same announcement (I can’t be certain, though, as that’s not one of my languages).
Looking at the crowds, queuing to get in, makes me regret asserting that I didn’t need transport here.
‘You shouldn’t be sending someone to War that you don’t trust to navigate themself from Galloway to Sussex!’ were my exact words.
I brushed off the recruitment officer saying that I’d be processed faster if I arrived on Military organised transport.
Well, standing here’s not gonna get me to the front of the queue now, is it!
I walk forward to join the massive throng of people, almost all of which look to be about my age.
It’s astonishing how short you feel, being an average height girl in a crowd of people!
178cm really isn’t all that much when you’ve got a not insignificant number of +2m guys here!
Even guys who are the average 188cm can make a girl feel short when their packed too close…
I see a few Neanderthal hunks… perhaps conscription won’t be all bad(!)
When I make it to the front of the line, the guy just stares expectantly at me like I’m supposed to already know what to do.
“Y’awright?… Err… mah nam’s Esme Reid…?” I say, hesitantly, in perfectly comprehensible speech.
“I’m sorry, would you repeat that?” he answers, looking at me like I just spoke to him in fucking Chinese!
“Greetings, gracious sir! You may kindly refer to me by the name ‘Esme Reid’!” I say, affecting my supercilious Southern English gentlewoman accent.
“Alright, Ms Reid. Please present your draft papers and identification.”
The balls they have to ask me to prove who I am when they’re the ones asking me to go off and fucking die for them!
I think about quipping that I should ask him to show me some proof that this is a legitimate Military installation sanctioned by the government of Sol… but think better of it…
Instead, I pull out my draft papers and my holopad, quickly getting up my identification app.
The man scans the code with his own holo and spends a few seconds glancing from his screen to my face and back.
Seeming satisfied that I’m not attempting to enlist under a false identity (for whatever strange reason a person might want to do that) he glances at my papers, says “Everything seems to be in order.” and waves a hand in front of a machine which whirs for half a second before spitting out a simple chain necklace with two little metal rectangles hanging off of it.
He hands it to me and says “This is your identification tag. Please check that the information on it is correct and, if it is, put it on and never take it off.”
I check the tag.
“You’ve got my name and birthday right…” I say, making a conscious effort to keep my speech register in that that a standard English speaker would consider acceptable “…don’t know about the regiment and serial number.”
“Those will be correct.” he says with a ‘move along’ tone.
I shrug, raise the dogtag over my head and drop it around my neck.
I walk on and he’s serving the girl behind me before I’ve even rounded the counter.
I’m ushered through the barracks, herded by the staff, until I reach a building labelled ‘Billet House 279’.
It doesn’t really look like I expected soldiers’ digs to look.
Definitely prefabbed but sort of has more the look of a uni hall than anything else… though I think it’s probably a bit much to expect that I’ll get a room to myself(!)
I follow the throng of draftees through to a wide open room, on the ground floor, that looks like it’s normally a cafeteria.
The camp attendants (who I’m guessing were in the same boat as us, not too long ago) direct us to stand along the left, right and nearside walls, keeping the back wall and centre of the room clear.
Everyone in place, there follows a few minutes of silence broken only by people whispering to one another.
Then, she enters the room.
Dark skinned and clad in green camo clothing, her scalp is easily visible between her cornrows with nary a hair out of place.
Her expression looks absolutely indifferent with just the slightest hint of a curled lip.
From the broadness and flatness of her facial features as well as her single mauve eye, she is clearly half Tshwane… though, you’d never guess that from her stature!
Female Tshwane average nearly 2m… the men are more like 2.2m!
She’s shorter than me!
She’s also built like a Sapiens, not the willowy thinness typical of Tshwane
I guess genetics interact in funny ways sometimes…
Based on her age, her Tshwane parent would probably have to have been one of the very first to be cloned back!
The other eye seems to have been ripped out at some point because in its place is a bionic and there’s a patch of hypopigmented scar tissue, forming a tear shape, at the right corner.
“Recruits… Welcome to the United Terran Coalition Infantry Trainin’ Camp, Graffham… My name is Warrant Officer Simone Sands… and I’ll be your drill instructor…” says the woman, cooly, speaking in a rough sounding, London accent.
The surname ‘Sands’ probably means her dad was the Tshwane (though not necessarily… she might have been given her mum’s surname… or it might be a coincidental English surname).
“…You all know why you’re here… Most of you’ve prob’ly already lost loved ones to this War… You are here to defend our right to exist… and I can’t think of a more worthy reason to fight than that…”
I’ve decided I like this woman… She may be English but I’ll try not to hold that against her(!)
“The first thing I need to tell all of you is that, by the end of your trainin’, you will NOT like me…” she says, as if reading my mind “…that’s OK. My job ain’t to be liked, my job ain’t to make friends… my job is to make soldiers!”
She casts her biological and bionic eyes around the room, letting her words hang in the air.
“Note… that I said ‘soldiers’… This ain’t Full Metal Jacket. This ain’t the 20th Century. There’ll be no Pvt Piles here!… I ain’t aimin’ to destroy your minds or your individuality. I ain’t goin’ to physic’ly and psychologic’ly abuse you into becomin’ robots or killers… I am makin’ you into soldiers… Regardless… this process will not be easy! In fact, it may well be the hardest thing you ever do!… As the face of this process, you will come to hate and resent me for it!… I hope for it! The more you hate me the more-DO YOU HAVE SOMETHIN’ TO SAY, PRIVATE?!”
Everyone in the room is startled by the authoritative woman breaking herself off to shout angrily at someone on the other side of the room.
“STEP FORWARD AND SPEAK SO EVERYONE CAN HEAR YOU!”
The boy that steps forward is tall, bulky and muscular with a handsome, half Neanderthal face… just my type!
Then he has to go and ruin it by opening his mouth.
“I was just saying… that I find it somewhat difficult to take you seriously as a commanding officer… You just seem a little bit… little.” says the boy in the poshest, smarmiest English drawl I’ve ever heard!
The woman does not shout, she does not scream, she doesn’t snarl or even purse her lips!
She just nods, as if considering his words, then asks “What’s your name, Soldier?”
“Rupert Forest.” responds the boy, proudly.
“And, how tall are you, Pvt Forest?” responds the woman, unimpressed
“195cm.” he answers.
“And, what’s your mass?” she asks.
“110kg.”
“I see, I see… So, by your logic… you’d make a better drill sergeant than me, would you? You’re 25cm taller and 35kg heavier, afterall!”
He smirks “I wouldn’t presume to say so, Ma’am…” in a way that definitely suggests that he thinks he would.
She seems to consider that for some moments before answering “Alright then, fight me for it!”
“I’m sorry…?” responds the poshboy.
“You heard me… Clearly, you got no respect for skill and experience but it seems like you must respect power… so fight me for it! You win, you get to train this lot, I win, you never question my authority again!”
Is this woman mad!?
She may be a soldier but this boy she just challenged is a half Neanderthal giant!
She’s gonna lose!
I do not want to be drilled by some snotty, privileged English brat who got here at the same time as I did and just couldn’t keep his fucking mouth shut!
Then again, I don’t really want to be drilled by a woman so delusional that she felt the best way to squash insubordination was to challenge a man she has no hope of beating, either!
The guy is clearly salivating over the power that’s just been slapped on the table in front of him as he answers “I accept your terms, Ms Sands…” with faux magnanimity.
There’s no way they’d let a Private run drills, is there? When he wins, someone just needs to go and complain and they’ll give us another (less stupid) drill sergeant… right?
He strips off his jacket to reveal a pair of thick, muscular arms that (in spite of his repulsive personality) are a thrilling sight.
He has to go and ruin it by flexing and posing, clearly revelling in the room’s worth of gasps he got when he revealed his arms… He obviously likes being the centre of attention.
“Done?” asks Sands, drily.
“If you still want to do this…” he says, smugly “…you could just concede defeat and I’m sure no one would hold it against you!”
Her lip curls as she answers “But… if I did that, no one would learn nothin’, now would they…”
He shrugs before launching himself at her without waiting for her to give the word to begin.
She whirls out of the way and he snatches at her, unsuccessfully, as his momentum carries him past.
“Lesson 1:…” she shouts while snapping into the space behind him and kicking out his knee “…size does not determine victory, strength does not determine victory…” levelling another powerful kick between his shoulderblades to bring him to the ground.
She backs off, allowing him to scramble to his feet and turn to face her, hunched in readiness and scowling.
“…Pvt Forest here looked at me with contempt on account of my small size and, though he didn’t say so, I’d guess that my rough accent, my lack of a graduate epithet and my lack of a penis also played a roll in his judgin’ me as less than!… He thought he could beat me, he probably still DOES, and, ’causa that, he didn’t respect my ability to lead…!”
Forest makes another lunge for the smaller woman, misses and is punished for it by being knocked back to the floor.
I’m agog as I watch this little woman… there’s no other word but toy with the giant man!
“…but victory does not care how big you are, how strong you are, how classy or educated you are or what’s in your pants or panties…!”
She dodges around his arm and pins his chest to the floor with her knee.
“Discipline and trainin’ determine victory!… Things that I have and Pvt Forest LACKS!… Things that ALL of you will acquire, over the next 8 months!!!” she turns her head down to the mountain of man she’s pinning to the floor “Concede, Private!”
The man shakes his head, trying in vain to leverage himself up.
“Alright then… Lesson 2: When faced with a resistant individual, compliance can be effectively enforced by the expedient of lockin’ their joints to induce PAIN!!!”
She grabs his thick arms by the wrists and pulls them backwards in a way they are not meant to bend!
He screams in agony!
“CONCEDE!!!… Don’t make me send you to the Medical Officer! It’d be inconvenient for BOTH of us if your pride makes you miss your first week of trainin’ while your arms heal!!!”
He holds out for two more seconds before screaming “I concede! I CONCEDE!!!”
She releases him and stands back up.
“On your feet, Soldier…” she growls down at him.
He stands back up, his face beet red.
“Are you ever goin’ to question my fitness to instruct again, Private?” she glares up at the humiliated giant.
“No.” he answers, gracelessly.
“No…?” she says as if waiting for something else.
Forest looks as confused as I am about what she’s expecting.
“No, Ma’am!” she snarls.
“No, Ma’am.”
“Good, we’ll work on your attitude, movin’ forward. Now, get back in line!”
The humiliated man picks up his civvy jacket and returns to the place he was called out from.
“Now, I don’t think I need to prattle on anymore about how you’re gonna hate me by the end of our time together, do I?… I think Pvt Forest helped me prove that point quite well, so I’ll move on… You will sleep in this buildin’, six to a room. Your rooms will be gender segregated. If you wish for a place to be… intimate with people of the opposite gender, you may request use of one of the conjugal rooms… I suggest you do the same if you want to be intimate with a same gender partner but that’s between you and your roommates! You will eat in this room at 0700hrs, 1200hrs and 1800hrs. Diet’ry requirements will be accommodated but, bare in mind, this ain’t your mummies’ and daddies’ kitchen! ‘This food is forbidden by my religion/personal ethics’ is a diet’ry requirement. ‘I am allergic to this food’ is a diet’ry requirement! ‘I don’t like how this food tastes’ is not(!)… In the mornin’s, you will be receivin’ lessons in lecture theatres, workshops and the like…”
“Oh great… just what I wanted after leaving school(!) More classrooms(!)” I mutter to myself.
Her head instantly wheels to me with unnerving precision.
“Someone else with somethin’ they’d like to say!?” she says, locking eyes with me, terrifyingly.
“No, Ms Sands!” I answer, instantly.
“Miss?! I’m not your bloody schoolteacher girl!!!”
Everyone laughs. Even Pvt Forest, like he wasn’t just humiliated himself, 2 minutes ago!
“Ma’am… err… Ma’am, no, Ma’am!!!” I say, doing my best to emulate the tone I’ve seen soldiers use in films.
She rolls her eye (it’s difficult to tell if the bionic rolls too) and says “Better… What’s your name, Private?”
“Ma’am, the Private’s name is Esme Reid, Ma’am!!!”
“Do you remember me tellin’ you this ain’t Full Metal Jacket?… You don’t need to scream when you talk to me, you don’t need to refer to yourself in third person and one ‘Ma’am’, when you’re done speakin’, is enough, Reid!”
“Yes, Ma’am.”
She points to her single, mauve eye, then to me and says “I’ll have my eye on you, Reid!”
Somehow, her tone sends a chill up my spine but I do my best not to show it.
She turns away and I release a silent sigh of relief.
“As I was sayin’… In your lectures you will learn the ins and outs of military theory; tactics, strategies, logistics etc. You will learn as much as we can tell you about the nature of the species we are fightin’; their capabilities, tendencies, political organisations and known weaknesses… bear in mind that First Contact weren’t much more than 4 years ago and we’ve been at War for almost all the intervenin’ time, so a lot of what we teach you will be little more than guesswork and hearsay from prisoners we’ve interrogated… The mornin’s’ll also be where you learn the particulars of the equipment you’ll be expected to be proficient with in the field. This includes firearms, plasmaweaponry and durasteel armour, as well as the tech you’ll likely encounter from the opposite side; kinetic pulse weapons, laser weapons, field emitters etc… I strongly suggest that no one allows word to get back to me that they’re not takin’ these classes seriously!… A stupid soldier is a dead soldier!”
She glares around the room, her eyes resting on me four a quarter of a second.
“…In the afternoons and evenin’s, you’ll be doing PT… that’s ‘Physical Trainin’’… soon to be every one of your two least favourite words in the English Language(!) “
I notice a wry smirk twist the mouths of a few of the camp attendants.
“In PT you will be drilled in agility, endurance, close quarters combat and coordinated marching… Five times over the comin’ 8 months, you and your trainin’ partner will be dropped into a remote bit of wilderness, somewhere on Earth, for five day practical survival experience. You will be given a beacon, to summon retrieval, but these are only to be used in cases of actual threat to life or bodily integrity… not because you’re feelin’ miserable!”
She takes a second to pause for breath.
“You get an allowance of 12 days off, over your time here… that’s two a month… These are subject to my approval and I may deny them for any reason, including no reason… so don’t piss me off!… You may not take more than 2 consecutive days leave at a time! Certain classes are mandatory and leave will not be approved on days they occur. If your allowance is spent, no more leave will be approved, barring a real emergency!… Now, for today, you are going to line up to have your maps and room keys downloaded onto your holos when your name is called, then you are going to have your bodies scanned for your armour measurements… at that point everyone with no uterus has the rest of the day free to settle in… If you have a uterus, you’ll need to report to medical to get your cycle paused! This is, I’m afraid, nonoptional… You are not prohibited from engaging in relations with your fellow recruits but you cannot be a soldier while you’re able to get pregnant. Attempts to circumvent this requirement in any way will land you in the Stockade!… After your cycle pause has been given, you’ll also have the rest of the day to settle in… Enjoy it! It’ll be the most downtime you get for a while!… Finally… I believe we have a 17 year old with us here… Pvt Taylor?”
A few people put their hands up, most looking confused.
“Pvt Oskar Taylor! The 17 year old?” she says, exasperated.
All but one of those with their hands up put them down.
The one remaining Pvt Taylor with his hand in the air has pale skin, black hair, brown eyes and a sharp featured face wearing a dour expression.
He stands even taller than Forest… Nearly 2m tall!
Though he’s not quite as heavily built, he’s certainly a good looking piece of boycandy!
“Pvt Taylor…” says Sands, her mouth breaking into a smile for the first time I’ve seen “…couldn’t wait to go off to War, could you(?)”
He mutters something but, while I can hear the power and deepness of his voice, I can’t make out a word he says.
“You’ll have to speak up, Taylor! Nobody’ll be able to hear you if you mumble.” points out Sands.
“I said I had some personal circumstances that made this the most sensible course of action for me, Ma’am.” says the tall, dark haired man, looking over her head rather than down at her and speaking in a grim monotone. He definitely loses boycandy points for the poshness of his accent, unfortunately…
“I see… I won’t pry into that but… you didn’t think of Officer Training? That’s the route that most people take when volunteering ahead of their conscription.”
He shakes his head “I thought of it and decided against it, Ma’am.”
“Oh? Why’s that, Pvt Taylor?”
“I didn’t believe I would make a good officer, Ma’am.” he answers simply.
She laughs “I wish every soldier could be as introspective, Taylor! I like you!… Unfortunately, bein’ a minor does mean that you can’t be put in a room with others… Sooo, that means you get a room to yourself… for the moment. Might sound cushy but before anyone else gets too jealous, bare in mind that privacy is the only advantage! His room will be a sixth the size of yours so its basic’ly a broomcupboard… the disadvantage will be severely reduced opportunity to socialise!… If that doesn’t sound doable, you can leave and come back when you turn 18, Taylor.”
“It’s acceptable, Ma’am.” he says without hesitating.
Yeah… it’s official… I don’t like him…
---later---
I rub the spot on my arm where the serum was thunked into me about 15 minutes ago.
Like with everything else about conscription, I get it… I understand the point…
But seeing the sense doesn’t mean I have to like it!
It’s not like I want to get pregnant (getting a nine month reprieve from service would be a fairly shitty reason for me to bring a child into the world) but it does feel like one last slap in the face to my personal autonomy that I’ve just had a cycle pause fucking mandated upon my body by the government!
As I draw near, door 1512 detects the key downloaded on my holo and unlocks
I open it and am greeted by a blonde girl, smiling broadly and instantly identifiable as brimming with ADHD energy.
“Hey there! My name’s Charlotte, it’s lovely to meet you!” says the girl, wrapping me in a hug without asking if I’m OK with that.
Her accent makes me wonder if everyone I meet here is going to be a posh toff!
She makes three of three of my fellow draftees!
“A pleasure, Charlotte… the name’s Esme…” I say, speaking Scottish accented standard English and gingerly patting her back.
“Oh, you’re Scottish…?” she says pulling herself off me with an expression that suggests meeting a Scottish person is just the most wonderful thing she could have imagined “…My great grandmother was from Edinburgh, where are you from?”
“Stranraer.” I answer.
She frowns “I don’t know it, I’m sorry!”
“I won’t hold it against you… Southwestern tip of Scotland? Where it nearly touches Ireland and the Man Peninsula?… ’Bout two and a half million people?”
“Oh, wooow! I don’t think I’ve ever met someone from a village before!” she says, seeming entirely oblivious to how that might be taken as an insult.
“Yeah… I guess it’s not that big.”
“Well…” she wraps me back in the hug and continues “…we’re the first ones to the room and that has to mean we’re going to be best friends!”
“I’m afraid my best friend’s name is Tamsin… the position is not open.” I say, firmly setting a boundary.
“I meant best bootcamp friends, silly!” she says, as if that should have gone without saying.
“Alright… I guess that positions open… but you’ve not got the job yet(!)” I quip, warming up a little to the ball of posh English energy.
She pulls back and beams at me “Alright then, for my first act as best bootcamp friend candidate, let me show you the view!… That should earn me some points!”
She says, leading me into the room that’s so small it makes me doubt that that goody-two-shoes 17 year old can possibly have one a sixth this size!
She leads me to the window and spends a few moments making sure I’m positioned just right before she draws back the curtain.
The view is quite breathtaking… rolling hills of snow blanketed mammoth steppe, lit by evening sun, with barely any of the sprawling military camp visible.
Though, you can see one of the tallest structures ever built by Humanity… the Sussex Space elevator… several times the Earth’s own diameter, the ‘top’, if you can even call it that, is a fifth of the way from here to Luna! …And… in 8 months, I’m going to be riding it, all the way up, to get on a troop transport.
“Look! See! There’s a herd of aurochs over on that hill! You know this place used to be a national park, before even Unification or the Reset! It’s called the South Downs! My mum told me we had family from here… obviously I never met any of them because they would have left hundreds of years ago!…”
The bubbly girl talks and talks and… just keeps talking… but I don’t particularly mind.
---
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TWBS Previous Next First

Include any justification in your choice if you want!
What should we do at level 5? If sticking with Ranger, we get extra attack and one more spell learned. Should we keep all current spells or change one for something level 2? If multiclassing, make the level 1 choices from those classes (Cleric, Druid, Fighter, Monk, Rogue).
Some details:

• The DM is running a homebrew 5e campaign set in his world that will be similar to Middle Earth
• Starting at level 5
• Standard Array ability scores
• Feat at level 1
• The only sourcebooks allowed are PHB, DMG, Tasha's, Xanathar's, Mordenkainen's MM, and SCAG

Current Build:

• Ghostwise Halfling (Hobbit)
• Ranger 4
• Squat Nimbleness Feat
• Sharpshooter Feat
• Far Traveler Background
• Proficiency: Acrobatics, Insight, Stealth, Survival, Sleight of Hands
• Expertise: Perception
• Languages: Common, Halfling, Elvish, Sylvan, Dwarvish, Gnomish
• Favored Enemy = Undead
• Fighting Style = Archery
• Ranger Archetype = Swarmkeeper (Dancing Rats)
• Spell List: (0) Mage Hand, (1) Absorb Elements, Entangle, Faerie Fire, Goodberry, Speak with Animals
• STR - 8
• DEX - 18
• CON - 14
• INT - 12
• WIS - 14
• CHA - 10
• Current HP (Average) = 44
• AC = 15
• Equipment: Shortbow (20 arrows), leather armor, 2 shortswords, explorer's pack, pan flute, dice set

Yesterday's link
Tomorrow will be character name and backstory!

• Total budget (in local currency) and country of purchase. Please do not use USD unless purchasing in the US:

$2500 USD

• Are you open to refurbs/used?

No

• How would you prioritize form factor (ultrabook, 2-in-1, etc.), build quality, performance, and battery life?

Performance, build quality, battery life. Form factor doesn't matter.

• How important is weight and thinness to you?

Not at all.

• Do you have a preferred screen size? If indifferent, put N/A.

15" and above

• Are you doing any CAD/video editing/photo editing/gaming? List which programs/games you desire to run.

Adobe Premiere Pro, Adobe Photoshop, OBS, Assetto Corsa Competizione, Minecraft with shaders.

• If you're gaming, do you have certain games you want to play? At what settings and FPS do you want?

Assetto Corsa Competizione at above 300FPS at high/ultra settings. Same with Minecraft.

• Any specific requirements such as good keyboard, reliable build quality, touch-screen, finger-print reader, optical drive or good input devices (keyboard/touchpad)?
  Good keyboard, reliable build quality, SD card reader, Displayport or USB-C Displayport, backlit keyboard. Also I want a 240Hz or above screen.
  

• Leave any finishing thoughts here that you may feel are necessary and beneficial to the discussion.

While I prefer to keep within budget, I can go slightly over budget if that means getting a better laptop.

The Nature of Predators is made by u/SpacePaladin15
Previous/ First
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Memory transcription subject: Varce, Cattle Farm Δ12
Date [standardized human time]: January 5, 2137
The kitchen was once again filled with the scent of boiling crab. Al and Kyra were manning the cooking station, occasionally poking down crab parts that would try to float to the surface. The rest of the division and I were separating meat from shell.
Al’s injured arm was coming along nicely. The gauze that lined his arm under the bandages stayed clean the last time he checked himself. He could even somewhat use it now. While he couldn’t do more physically intensive activities like splitting body shells with his knife, he could still do smaller things like cooking.
I looked up from my work when I heard an annoyed sigh coming from my human. Oddly enough, Kyra was shooting a glare of pure disgust in my direction. Not really sure what I did to warrant that kind of look.
As I sat there confused, a large hand reached over me and snatched the piece of crab meat I was working on. Alright, who’s the smart guy? I turned to chew out the thief, however I stopped when I was greeted by a wall of scales. The list of Arxur I knew that were this large was dangerously short.
Yeah, danger is a good word for this.
I bowed my head down in fealty. “Your cruelness. How may I serve you.”
An audible swallow could be heard above me. “I’m not here for you Welfare Officer. Human, follow me… Also, this food is awful.”
Chief Hunter Shaza pivoted away from me and began walking towards the door that was currently being manned by a pair of guards. There was nothing more I wanted to do at that moment than to tell her to fuck off. After the wound she inflicted on Al, she would have the self-entitlement to come in and start commanding him to do her biding. I stayed silent though, maybe I’m a coward.
As I started to sink into my own thoughts, I felt my arm getting tugged. Al was standing by me, motioning his head for me to follow him. But she doesn’t want me. I don’t want to get her mad… I forced myself up. My legs felt like lead as I fought every instinct in my head. I’m not going to run and hide. I’m not a prey.
I pulled myself along, following Al into the hallway. The door guards looked me over as they began tailing us. My heart skipped a beat as Al hopped forward a few paces, aligning himself to be beside the Chief Hunter.
Worse yet, he started to talk. “Chief Hunter Shaza. I’d like to have a quick conversation with you. There is a restroom down the hall.”
She lazily swung her head towards him and gave a grunt. “Fine.”
You stupid bastard.
I quietly followed them into the restroom, unsure of what was to come. The guards stopped at the door to ensure we had privacy. Shaza stood next to a sink while looking the two of us over.
Al postured himself respectfully and spoke. “Chief Hunter Shaza. I have raised the price of my cooperation.”
The Chief Hunter gave pause. “And what made you think you have a say in this?”
Al tapped his bandaged arm. “Besides the obvious one? I suspect you’re not in a good position to be saying no. So I might as well take advantage of the situation.”
She didn’t like that. “You think I’m vulnerable? Like a weak prey.”
Al kept a straight face. “Your Cruelness. You lost a quarter of your bargaining power and have an angry Prophet Descendant demanding results. You came to me to give you those results. I will give you what you need, but I want you to do something for me in return.”
Her eye twitched in anger. Al got a bullseye on this one. The fact she hadn’t gutted him yet was proof that she was desperate. The Prophet Descendant was the only person in the Dominion that could have her executed. And it looked like she was fearing for her neck.
Shaza approached my human, grabbing the top of his head and looking him in the eyes. “What do you want?”
“I want Varce here to be given top priority in the Dominion’s eugenics program. I want every one of his kids to be supplied with big swaths of fertile land for raising syasaras. I want his kids to never know hunger.”
The senior officer exhaled a chuckle while releasing Al’s head. “That’s it? You got me worked up over nothing… I’ll write a recommendation if you offer anything worthwhile to me.”
I was speechless. I’d told Al a couple of times about how I wanted to get into the eugenics program. This was a dream come true. To not only get to father the next generation, but for them to be guaranteed a good life as well. I’d owe Al a debt I’d never be able to fully pay. I… I just… Thank you.
A firm hip check to my outer thigh brought me back to reality. Shaza was already walking out the door as Al waved me a goodbye. With everyone gone, I mulled over what happened as I washed my claws. My life has gotten so much better since I met my human. I really do need to think of a way to show him my gratitude.
As I strolled my way back to the kitchen, it occurred to me that vice admiral hadn’t given me any notice of Shaza’s arrival. I pulled out my holopad while entering the kitchen. Kyra gave me a worried look that I alleviated with a joyful nod.
I relaxed in a chair while messaging the vice admiral. “Vice Admiral, are you aware that Chief Hunter Shaza is back?”
He replied. “I was unaware of this. Thank you for the update. I’ll make accommodations for my guest.”
She just zips around as she pleases with no regard for others, doesn’t she? No one ever standing up to her has certainly given Shaza a number of “personality traits”. It explains a lot really.
I peered up from my holopad and looked around the room. The first half of the meat had been de-shelled while the second half of the crab was still boiling. Al’s hard boiled egg plate was only half eaten. I made a mental note to take that home for my human.
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I laid on my bed staring at the ceiling waiting for Al’s return. The goober left his holopad at the cooking station as a timer so I haven’t been able to get status updates from him. I know that he was acting like everything was fine when he left, but I was still concerned he’d show up with another gored arm. He really is quite fragile. His skin is soft and weak. He has barely any physical strength in comparison to an Arxur. He needs someone like me there for him. Someone that will crush those that try to do him harm.
I lamented the fact that I didn’t follow him after the restroom. That was another failure on my part. It wouldn’t have been the end of the world if I stayed with him. He can barely handle a couple of pissy humans, yet he thought he could stand against a superior being like Shaza. I sunk into my darker thoughts.
What if I were to lose him? I’ve effectively been alone my entire life. The danger of Betterment labeling me defective for reaching out to others prevented me from ever forming anything meaningful with people. The only reason I risked it with Al was because I figured I could pass it off as a weird human thing. But now that I have him, I just don’t think I could let go. I can’t see myself going back to pretending to be an empty husk.
I almost felt sickly. My stomach felt weighted down by the intrusive thoughts of being alone again. Kyra would probably fade into the background again. Tarth would still be chatty, but I’d imagine his words would return to being meaningless noise meant to incite anger.
The sound of the common room door opening made me bound out of bed. I darted to my bedroom door and opened it to greet Al. The blond hairball happily waved as he walked over to greet me. I pulled him into my room so we could spend time together.
My human started talking with a big grin. “Hey Varce, guess what? Tomorrow morning, you’ll be receiving a flight itinerary to Wriss. Make sure to have lots of fun. I’ll hold down the fort for you here, okay? Oh! And drink lots of water.”
I couldn’t stop myself from letting a grin slip. “So Chief Hunter Shaza liked your offer?”
“Oh yeah. The Dominion is going to be in a much better position here in a couple of days. Probably not going to be great for our job security though.”
As long as I get to keep Al around, I don’t mind. “That’s good. Your probably hungry by now. Take a seat.”
I led him over to my bed and gave him his egg plate. I loaded it up with some crab from dinner as well. He really doesn’t eat enough in my opinion, so I’ll make sure he stays in tiptop condition.
Al gave me a smile when I sat next to him. “Thanks Varce. I’m gonna be honest though. I just ate a bunch so if you could help me with this, it would be greatly appreciated.”
How? Did he stop by the main facility to cook something on one of the hotplates? “I’m not going to turn down free food. What did you eat anyway?”
“Vice Admiral sent a harchen over as a gift. Shaza offered me some. I think she was trying to do some kind of purity check on me.”
I missed my favorite little predator’s first foray into something besides tilfish? Dammit. She stole that moment from me.
“Oh. So how was it?”
Al grimaced. “It sort of tasted like somebody accidentally dropped it in the dirt. Maybe some of the ‘gamey’ flavor could be cooked out.”
I plucked a couple of eggs from Al’s plate. “Next time some harchen rations show up, I’ll give you a bit to cook up back at the kitchen. Deal?”
“Sure. I don’t know if it’ll beat these eggs though.”
I can’t argue with that. The cooked crab meat is kinda meh, but these hard boiled eggs with salt? I could live off of this stuff. Cleaning the cooked tilfish egg slime out of the pots in the restroom was even a fair trade off as far as I was concerned.
Speaking of… “What was the deal with you wanting to talk to Shaza in the restroom of all places? There are plenty of empty rooms you could have used.”
“I didn’t want any unwelcome eyes observing our conversation. The only places that don’t have cameras in this cattlefarm are staterooms, officer quarters, and restrooms. Shaza doesn’t want anything we talk about to be recorded.”
That got a little chuckle out of me. “Is she seriously THAT concerned about someone seeing her with a human?”
Al gave me a confused look. “What? No. Varce, the humans captured Chief Hunter Isif and then suddenly showed up right behind our fleet. There’s a very real chance that humans have infiltrated almost all of our digital systems since Isif had access to them. All of the higher ups in the Dominion are going radio silent right now until the situation gets resolved. Don’t tell anyone this. It’s supposed to be super secret. We’ve actually been giving out tons of misinformation on our communication systems while we patch things up.”
Shit… I wasn’t aware of that.
My human continued. “Yeah. It’s a whole thing right now. According to the tech guys, they’ve pinned down most of the potential leak points. They’re going to do a mass shut down and purge sooner or later… Oh. Funny thing. They all thought for sure that you were a smurf account that was giving out human propaganda for like the first week after you released the guide. They thought they were extracting sensitive data when they asked us questions. Fucking hilarious.”
What? “They thought I was a UN internet spy? Okay, there’s some irony in there somewhere.”
We (mostly me) finished off Al’s food plate and set it aside. It was fairly late, so we decided to call it a night. Al crouched down to fish out his foam pad from under my bed. The pad was really thin all things considered and not really appropriate to sleep on long term. Well that’s one thing I could do to improve his quality of life.
I snaked my arm around Al’s abdomen and pulled him onto my bed with me. I knew for a fact that he would be more comfortable on a soft officer mattress then some crap foam sheet.
I dragged him under my bed covers. “Here. Just sleep on the bed. Making you sleep on the floor for a month was honestly a really shit move on my part.”
Al awkwardly responded. “Uh… Okay. This is a lot better.”
“No worries. You’re a few degrees warmer than me, so this is an improvement for both of us.”
I was very much intending on stealing some of his body heat. I’d say the arrangement was mutually beneficial overall. Who knows, maybe one day humans and the Arxur people could have a something beneficial like what my friend and I have.

Just looking for tips on what to look for. I don't know much about the intricacys of building yet so please keep it simple. I'm trying to build said PC not to run the latest graphics/ run at 4k, but instead be able to hold a consistent if not great frame rate with some of the bigger titles on the gaming market along with lasting a good while. It doesn't have to look pretty with lights and all sorts of flair, just looking like a standard office computer would suffice. Budgets about 2.5k to 3k (or just how much I'm wiling to spend).
I think the advice I'm looking for is how to go about looking for parts without going over budget or... what areas should I focus the most on for what I'm trying to do for this first build?

I hate 3 gen killers in this game because they drawn out the match and make it boring.
But then i think about long drawn out game, I actually play Techies in Dota and love the drawn out games because there are actually stuff to do in Dota to make those long game interesting, so you are not just waiting for time to pass.
In DBD when playing a 3 gen killer all you do is walk back and forth the same 3 gens and maybe hit the survivor and wait for the to heal then come back. For survivor, all you do is run back and forth the same 3 gens, maybe get hit and heal then come back. What if you give players more stuff to do to keep their brain stimulated.

Alright my first post here
So this is mostly expanding from a content I made under a post about mj conspiracy theories in the regular mj subreddit.
This theory argued that Michael was never born a Jackson but is rather the love child of Diana Ross, lead of the Supremes, and Smokey Robinson, lead of the miracles and the king of Motown (or as I like to call it the "Michael Jackson is Michael Ross Robinson" theory).
The theory goes that Diana and Smokey had hooked up in the fall of 1957 while Smokey was committed to someone else (who he eventually married) and somehow, Diana got pregnant with Michael (supposedly). When news of a little teenage girl spread and reached Smokey's music business partner, Berry Gordy (whom the pair met in 1957 to form Motown just a couple years later), he was horrified. He feared that with news that Smokey Robinson, then 17/18 and rising star, getting a 13/14 and future star in Diana Ross pregnant, that would destroy everything before everything began properly. Plus this was the height of the Civil rights movement so they wanted that picture perfect image. So, Berry got into contact with Joe Jackson (Michael's father) and arranged for Diana's baby to be raised as a Jackson and live with them until the time came. As we all know, Michael became a star at a young age with his brothersin the Jackson 5. But it was around this time in 1970 was when Michael was living with Diana and she told him the truth and he was forever scarred. That, the theory argues, is why Michael was innocent because he was an abandoned child, an outcast in his adopted family and his birth family refusing to take him back all to keep the Motown secret under wraps.
That is just the summary of the theory. It's evidence include (but not limited to) Billie Jean being about Michael learning he was Diana's love child, his physical appearance (even pre surgery, pre Pepsi, and pre vitiligo diagnosis) and his mannerisms and style were similar to Diana and Smokey, Smokey calling Michael "the one", Diana jokingly calling Michael her child in early interviews, and the Jackson family were inferior talentwise to that of Michael who was definitely superior (even calling his sister Janet nothing more than a female impersonator).
As we all know, without DNA evidence, photos of Diana with a baby bump in 1958, or a certificate of live birth for Michael, I don't buy this theory (although with interesting pieces of circumstantial evidences and song analysis). Michael was and always will be a Jackson.
However, even with everyone using evidence to disprove the theory, the creator of the theory and his followers disagree.
The theory was created by John Odinham who also created the YouTube channel An American Scheme to share the theory (or as he claims, Michael's real and true story) and to get everyone, especially those in the mj community to talk about it, except with no respect. He has thrown insults at mj content creators, made a now deleted video where he dreamed of one mj fan dying in a fire despite the fact that she was and still is dealing with mental health struggles, called mj fans take and frauds, went after content creators' families and insulted their character (and mind you, he did this on a secondary channel he created call A Sports Reckoning), etc. I can go on all day. His top supporter, James L was the one the created the subreddit with the theory and all the evidence that supports it (either from him or from a couple other contributors). He has even told people who debunk that we're just reciting the official story that is no longer fact. He has been banned from reddit multiple times (since he also spreads other harmful theories himself like the flat earth theory) and has often cross post the theory into other subreddit including the mj subreddit.
I just want to know you guys opinions on the theory itself, an American Scheme himself and his entire YouTube channel and secondary channel (whether you heard of him or just hearing about it today), and the an American Scheme subreddit. I think the theory is not true and the scheme head as I like to call him has severe mental problems and and his bullying attitude and behavior towards others who don't want to talk about his theory simply call him out should have gotten him terminated from YouTube a long time ago.

Welcome to your Sunday Free Talk! Feel free to ask any questions that you missed out on posting last week! Let's just remember to keep things GTI (or VW hot hatch) related! Have fun and hope you all have a good week!
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This is the best tl;dr I could make, original reduced by 84%. (I'm a bot)

Authorities have proposed many explanations, including climate change, altitude sickness, exhaustion, falls, novice attempts, running for Mount Everest records, colder temperatures, and more.
Most officials attribute the changing weather as a major reason for climbing Everest this year.
While some claims were based on an increasing number of Everest climbers, as they were in previous years, "478 permits were simply too many,", Ang Norbu Sherpa, president of the Nepal National Mountain Guide Association, told The Guardian.
"We had two Sherpas suffer from frostbite, which is the first time in 30 years that we have ever had any of our Sherpas suffer frostbite. Luckily, one case was superficial, and the other may lose the end of a finger," said Guy Cotter, who has been climbing Everest since the 1990s.
More and more things have happened on Mount Everest in recent months.
Although there was a discussion going about moving Everest Base Camp, it has now been rejected by officials as an ideal location to keep everyone safe.

Summary Source FAQ Feedback Top keywords: Everest^#1 climb^#2 death^#3 year^#4 camp^#5
Post found in /worldnews, /climatechange, /Everest and /Mountaineering.
NOTICE: This thread is for discussing the submission topic. Please do not discuss the concept of the autotldr bot here.

There are way too many posts that keep hyping certain new games. A lot of games get hyped too much around release and then there's not much talk or discussion after which speaks about the actual quality of the games in the long run. I want peoe to enjoy what the enjoy but the constant hyping up of frankly some mid games is annoying.
RE8 and GT7 still get talked about to this day so the hype there doesn't seem artificial. Almost every other game gets pretty much ignored after the first couple of weeks of release.

Just like the title says. Right now it sometimes feel like we are keeping old people alive for the principle of it. At some point you lived your live, your body is too frail and your cognitve abilities are too dull to experience anything meaningfull anymore. At some point we as a society should recognise that someone had a good run, and not torment with some extra years with constant healthcare.
For example, my grandpa is nearing 95 and has found little enjoyment in his life as his body is too weak to do more than sit around. I wouldn't want this for myself, I would rather die once my health deteriorates.