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For me, not being apart of the region's/community's RP is less "I don't think I can join" and more "I would like to flesh out my nation's lore and such stuff before I join, because I have made that mistake in the past." I willk probably end up joining within a month of two as long as someone keeps pushing me to actually write down lore stuff. |
personally, my lore is pretty simple, it's literally just a nation with my partner as it's religious symbol, I'm doing this more for fun than rp or lore, but I might expand upon the idea I already have of it kinda being a lil cult-ish |
Fair enough but you're both welcome if you're ever interested! |
we're always happy to workshop lore with folks too! |
I have never heard of the term "workshop lore" before, will I be able to use it for solo stuff I may do/create? |
Dawnbreak RP - Yora’s Mandate #14 The next day was spent bringing off a small about of jewels. The diamonds were gone, as were the emeralds and amethysts and lolmany other things, but there were rubies, sapphires, peridot, crystals, topaz, and bronze. There were only little amounts of each; Hallow wished to save some for this land called Stevist Guam, and maybe even Imantica. Yora was also gifted with baskets of flowers, a sampler of the types of wood, a necklace made of pearls, a golden brooch, and an intricately made Farrish dagger. She was also gifted with a map of Farrine, as well as a paper. It looked blank at first, but when she saw it, she saw figures moving. Without words, it explains a brief history of Farrine and the types of magic, using ink as animation; this was certainly the work of a skilled Spellcaster. Hallow and Joy promised they’d be gone a week. But one week soon turned into two. The crew begged to stay longer and have more food and see more sight and visit other people. Many were curious about what Liora, the “true queen”, was like. Other times they were stalled by people getting lost, or Spellcasters trying and failing to learn the same translation spell, or Hallow struggling to explain to Yora the desire to put an embassy in both their nations. The words “embassy” and “diplomat” didn’t exist in the Farrish language, so he had to use a roundabout way to explain it. Fifteen days later, Joy put her foot down one day and said they were leaving. Hallow: “Now hold on there, Joy. I have a few questions for Yora.” Joy: “Go ask her quickly.” Hallow: “Remember who is the king and who is the princess.” Joy: “Sorry.” Hallow: “My questions concern navigation you know. Something that’ll assist you as well.” Joy couldn’t help but agree that this was a good idea, so she sent Francis to prepare the ship and the sailors to go home. Meanwhile, she accompanied Hallow to see Yora. Hallow had a bunch of questions, right off the bat. Joy, despite herself, joined in. With the two of them speaking, it was impossible to chime in, and difficult to make out what they’re saying. But Yora could pick out the following: Adeline, on the other hand, had gotten quite chummy with a group of songbirds. She asked some to come with her, but they begged her to stay. She looked at the shining city of Silvarin and realized no one was looking back at her. She wasn’t odd in this city. She felt she was going to miss this place more than the others, but she made the least amount of fuss and heeded to Francis’ orders. |
Dawnbreak RP - Where are We? All he remembered was that he was born in a land named Farrine, he was in a garden of Yaishi, and he had the magical ability to grow plants in the real world. He only learned the last thing just now, when he helped a little fern grow. So he sat on the ground and leaned against a sycamore tree, trying to ignore the way his head was pounding. Poppy: “Saffron, look at this.” The man didn’t know why, but he turned his head. There he saw a woman with bright pink hair, around his age. She had just created a giant statue of a caterpillar. Poppy: “You gotta admit that’s pretty cool.” Saffron: “I’m sorry, who are you?” Poppy: “My name’s Poppy.” Saffron: “And what did you call me?” Poppy: “Saffron. That’s your name.” Saffron: “No it isn’t!” Poppy: “Yes it is!” Saffron: “No! My name…well…I guess I don’t know what it is. But Saffron? Where did you get that?” Poppy: “I don’t know, I just…knew.” Saffron blinked at Poppy a few times. Then she blinked back. Saffron sighed; she was as confused as he was. Saffron: “I don’t know who you are.” Poppy: “I don’t know who you are.” Something instantly felt off. Saffron shifted his eyes to the caterpillar. Saffron: “How did you think of that?” Poppy: “The caterpillar? Oh, I don’t know. We can grow anything we like, can’t we?” Saffron: “I suppose. I think I’ll stick to flowers.” Poppy: “Fine. But the grass will be yellow.” Saffron: “But grass is green.” Poppy: “Now it’s yellow. We can do whatever we want. I already made the sky purple.” And so she did. Saffron groaned and wondered what else Poppy messed with. Oh. The clouds. And the birds. Poppy: “The clouds are made of cotton. And those birds? Greatest creation ever.” Poppy did not seem at all discouraged by Saffron’s attitude. Poppy: “They have phoenix wings, horses legs, a tigers body, and a lions head. I think they’ll be real useful, don’t you?” Saffron: “Sure, Poppy.” And Saffron went back to his own little corner and began to grow forget-me-nots. |
The ship reaches the shores of Farrine. The ambassador alights, followed by the historians. The 10 mages surround them, and behind them, in that order, are the arquebusiers and swordsmen. The standard of the Rihaamese Empire is unfurled, and the ambassador, a young man of thirty, dispatches a messenger to the local lord or magistrate. "Tell the lord of this province that the herald of the His Imperial Majesty Shashank I, Lord of Emperors, Son of God, Crest Jewel of the Simha Clan, Beloved of Jnānavati, and the god of Rihaam has arrived. Inform them that this embassy, duly empowered by His hand, consists of one ambassador, ten historians, fifty swordsmen, fifty arquebusiers, and ten mages. Extol the virtues of your overlord and expound his divine lineage!" The messenger takes his leave. |
Dawnbreak RP Queen Fabienne was elated to read the Doyen's answer. It appeared she could not have found a better time to rekindle the flame of their relations, as the Doyen has already gone through great lengths to open her country to the world around them. She wondered if, perhaps, Imantica had re-established closer relations to the neighboring Khaganate of Enyvala? They, also, maintained close relations to Morvainne centuries ago, but their alliance was lost in the mist of false accusations and trickery, even though Imantica had severed their ties with them, just like with every other nation. Perhaps, this would prove to be another opportunity to fan the embers of friendship, unless they had already died. Though Imantica was near, both Fabienne herself, and the Royal Court decided that she could not travel to Sunnarelle on her own. Consequently, two very capable servants to the Kingdom were appointed to accompany her: Lazare Beauregard, the Lord Commander of the Order of Eclipse. He was a seasoned swordsman who had experienced a lot of unspeakable terrors over the years, and had personally saved Fabienne's life on three separate occasions. Her other companion was a powerful conjurer going by the name of Lilou Terrenoire, who coincidentally held great knowledge of Imantican history - at least, the historical period before Imantica's isolation. From Morvainne's capital city of Sombrana, the carriage that Fabienne, Lazare, and Lilou were riding towards the Imantican border, which was pulled by two echosteeds - skeletonized, eeriely beautiful horses with silver-white bones, faintly blue glowing eye sockets, wisps of mist around their legs, and dark manes made from shadow who left hoofprints that briefly glowed beneath moonlight - took four days to reach the northern Imantican border, from where it travelled for three more days to the capital city. One entire week, fortunately spent without running into greater peril. Now, however, they stood at the gates of Sunnarelle, and, to her own surprise, the Queen suddenly felt a lick of anxiety growing inside of her heart. The few Roca they had met on their way to Sunnarelle left a friendly impression on her, to which both Lazare and Lilou had agreed; who would they encounter in Sunnarelle, however? What could they expect from the Doyen? |
To Gaze upon Flight Underneath a grand pine tree, Kinlafrier caught a glimpse of the verily amazing, joyous flight and was so verily compelled to spin around from her axemanship towards the grand sight suddenly, that she, with a whiplash tripped in her turn. Snagged by a wild, twisting root, she fell flat unto the uneven ground beside her, of which laid firm, adorned with dry dirt and increasingly, (By winter's dawn) shriveled grass. But, despite the fall in that moment she could only look up and smile. Oh, what the wild-fire born Peregris had accomplished mere weeks after she guided him away from the hostile wilds. . . It was truly a sight to behold. Running down the steps of the Citadel to gaze upon whatever had made such a ruckus, flame reader Moltkind looked through the flame wrought skies and saw the pair aloft. "Unspeakable, yet verily speakable so... the torches know of wonderous sights from lands foreign and not so, yet to see those two flying beside rising smoke. I believe I have seen one such sight." Knowledge. The flame reader had taught Peregris all that time ago of the Inferno, and now she sees him so high with the flares; a wonder they had both taught each other, indeed. And, it was truly a sight to behold. And from the setting sky, Peregris surveyed the awed faces of all those who had helped him, and given his perennial coyness, one might expect that he would be overcome by the sheer embarrassment of an undertaking as bold and garish as this. But no such nervousness arose, for all Peregris saw in that swirling instant, in that fleeting moment, high in the clouds... was Pyasrion, eyes twinkling with the fire lights of his hometown reflected through the clouds in a new and wondrous light. And, it was truly a sight to behold. |
Dawnbreak RP - An Emporer’s Decree #2 Luckily, a translation spell was cast by one of the citizens of the city, so everything said was understood. And this caused a few people to chuckle, and many others to be dumbfounded. A woman of also about thirty, smartly dressed and wearing a lilac colored sash, stepped forward as the messenger left. Mayor Embey: “I suppose I am the lord of this…province? I’m the mayor of this town. Luckily the king is here.” Mayor Embey ordered someone to get the king, who was staying at a lavish hotel. Soon, King Patrick, accompanied by two knights and a servant, approached the ship and the scene. He spoke with a grand voice, and decided to…leave out the fact that there were three other rulers. Patrick: “I have just heard word of your nation. I am King Patrick Emerald of Farrine. Farrine is where you have found yourself. We will be hospitable to your people, and will certainly be curious to learn of them.” Patrick wasn’t sure who to speak to, so he spoke to anyone in general that had just exited such a grand sailing vessel. Patrick: “Where is your leader, who came in such a…grand entrance?” |
✧ Light of the Stars Sep 15: Below is our question of the day - feel free to share your answer with us! How toasted/burnt do you toast your bread? This question was brought to you by the Ministry of Gameside! |
Fun fact of the day: Mikael Svonni won the Gollegiella language award in 2014 in recognition and appreciation of the many years he has dedicated to the Northern Sámi language in Sweden. |
NEW DAWNPEAK FACTBOOK!! WORLDBUILDING!!!!! WOOOH The Volatile Ashwing is a magical type of wheat that grows in the southern volcanic regions of the Orange Cult mainland. Volatile Ashwings are christened 'volatile' because of their extreme tendency to explode when lit ablaze, and christened 'ashwing' for the environment they grow in, and their ability to fly for short distances. Volatile Ashwings are sentient plants that root lightly in the ground and are capable of breaking out of the dirt and flying forwards by flapping their pointed leaves. Ashwings generally cannot make it very far into the air and usually do a 'hopping' motion to move around. Volatile ashwings are commonly found growing in tight fields and exhibit a semi-eusociality; when a predator approaches a field, an ashwing will fly towards them, preferably into lava or a nearby fire, usually located on the predator itself. The logical purpose of this behavior is to protect the field by exploding next to the predator, while not damaging other growths, and to serve as a strong deterrence for future predators. Many beasts in the volcanic regions integrate fire into their physiology or as a tool in hunting, so usually it is best for the ashwing to fly directly towards the predator. The Volatile Ashwings possess only one apparent sense besides the simple sense of their own forms (they do not respond to visual stimuli nor smells), that being seismic sensing, which they may only possess while directly rooted to the ground (they do not exhibit any reactions to stimuli while airborne). In terms of sheer intelligence the ashwings are, as far as anyone can tell, exceptionally dumb creatures. It is theorized that the Volatile Ashwings communicate by waving their leaves as well as shifting their roots underground. The origin of the Ashwing's Volatility comes from a magical core called a volat-core inside about a quarter of their grains which are extremely flammable and explode when exposed to flames. Domesticated Ashwings generally have more volat-cores than wild ones, they also have thinner wings that can fly much shorter distances; while a flying wild ashwing may be described as 'leaping', a domestic ashwing is more accurately described as 'hopping', even when the intent is clearly to fend off predators. Domestic ashwings are grown in ashen fields by experts in the craft who educate their apprentices to be able to properly handle cultivating and harvesting the volatile ashwings safely. The primary use of ashwings is military in nature, wherein they are sold to, or grown around local forts or directly to the Grand Barracks in Infernox. Ashwings used for military purposes' grains are grinded down and excess material including grains that don't contain Volat-Cores and other plant material are thrown out or used as low quality rations. The second most common use of ashwings is in food, ashwings are not very suitable to produce bread, and on their own have a very crunchy, dry ash flavor that is quite bland. However, although sometimes dangerous, grains with volat-cores are quite the delicacy. Volat-Core grains taste much like other ashwing grains in terms of texture, but when eaten they 'pop' inside the mouth, giving way to a warm flavor which after some time quickly becomes spicy. Cores usually take an extended period of time to digest (up to multiple weeks), which can still explode violently inside of you if exposed to any flames. The most expensive version of this delicacy is in eating a live ashwing, an experience which many call extraordinary because. . . "The little things wiggle and squirm in thine mouth oh so delightfully! The squirming to the popping, to the warm, to the oh, so, so hot conclusion, simply extraordinary I say, simply extraordinary! Thou hath made a delightful meal for me today, indeed!" - Grand Torch Scormerart to Sootcher Fest, owner and lead chef of KindleFeast, a restaurant in KindleSale Praise the Inferno! Wise, and encouraging the quest for wisdom still. - Article written by Pyotansi Scalor - |
In response to  The Great Lizards of The Lizard Army“Who I am is none of your concern” The Cuchimilco said, backing away from Ylja after she touched his head. “What you need to know is this: your continued presence in these lands is troubling to the Emperor. It matters not what Lord Inshiren has said on the matter, for he is not the Emperor.” He walks closer to Ylja, his green eyes more visible than ever, “But do not worry. I am not here on behalf of the Emperor. I am here on behalf of the Council of Jades. This item that it is that you seek… it is very interesting to us. We wish to know more about it, and why you so strongly believe this item exists here in the Empire.” The Cuchimilco turns around with his back facing Ylja and begins walking further away from the city. “Will you come to our temple willingly?” he says, stopping in his tracks but without looking behind him. |
Dawnbreak RP - External Pressure Ryo'sha found it surprisingly comfortable not having to breathe. He knew very well how to submerge without having to rely on gills to provide him with oxygen; this solution, however, was a lot more convenient, and if what they were told was true, it would hold up for longer than his spells could, which could definitely prove useful. They eventually made it to the seafloor, where the actual problem came into view, as he realized when he watched Tina struggle to speak. He understood what she was trying to get across by pushing away water with her arms, and quickly swam towards the center of their stay, where he collected a lot of aether. Heart of Water, Wings of Wind: Air Dome. Between his hands, a little orb of compressed air began forming, and expanded as he pulled his hands apart. The orb quickly grew in size; it appeared to absorb all the water surrounding it. In reality, however, it merely pushed the surrounding water away, and created a large air pocket for the crew and the fish people to comfortably stand in. As the water beneath his feet disappeared, Ryo dropped on the floor and looked around. The pressure down here was rather severe, as he quickly realized. "I do not believe I will be able to keep the Air Dome up for much longer than ten minutes. Fifteen at best", he admitted. "Let's get this over with before long, lest we get into serious trouble, water pressure and all." |
I'm still mourning the loss of a hat I lost in like January or February. |
A Day in a Life After days of travelling over snowy hills and barren plains, a bit before noon, they caught sight of a small village in the distance, and a message came down from the front of the convoy. "We're heading for the village" The message was passed down by the teamster, and Kristoph looked towards the village in question; small, simple, probably less people than the circus itself. Charming, a cozy town seems nice, hopefully all'll go well... The caravan turned along a diverging path, making towards the village. The two clowns had been without their makeup since leaving Aurellus, and were asleep. Sleep itself had been a difficulty for everyone, seeing as the circus' focus had been on swift movement, they did not stop often, and instead slept in their wagons, which were as peaceful as one might expect. They bundled up well, and the three in this wagon, instead of separately on the seats, slept in a huddle on the wagon floor; Kristoph envied those in covered carriages; it was a miracle the cold had not sent him ill; although, those in the covered carriages were most likely in them as to not get ill themselves; perhaps the weak and the elderly, much deserved. Enchanters and other magic-folk had often gone around casting endurance spells upon the horses, and the drivers of the wagons, who rotated with a crew of other drivers. It was by far the worst job in the caravan; the job had enough to do to keep one awake, but not enough to occupy them. The clowns; who Kristoph had discovered were named Benjamen and Leonard; Benny and Lenny; and Kristoph had taken it upon themselves to entertain the drivers on rotation, telling stories, singing, occasionally moving up next to them to keep them company over long nights, but it was quickly growing old; this was probably one of the longest stretches of the journey, save for the oceanic voyages and the return home. Kristoph slowly shook the clowns awake from the floor; if they were going to the village to entertain, they should have their things on. "Hey, hey, wake up." "Wuh... wha..." Benny slowly opened his eyes, rubbing them as he moved himself to a slouch. "ngh... what time is it?" Lenny woke up slightly after the first. "Are we there yet?" "No, no. We're headed for a village," Kristoph pointed to the village, growing ever closer. "You should probably get your makeup on, chances are, we'll be doing a little show for them." "Oh, goodie!" The clowns brought their carry-ons out from underneath them and took out their assorted makeups, powders, and other clown dresswear. As they got ready, Kristoph himself took out his neatly folded jacket, wearing the white garb over his blue vest, straightening it out as he took Terry out the same box. The village grew closer in the distance, and Kristoph lounged back in his seat, wondering what to do. There was nothing really, other than wait, and so he did. A jester on horseback moved down to ride aside Kirstoph's wagon, a large sack on the back of the saddle. "Hark! The King sends his gifts to give to the village folk!" He grabbed a small bag from the saddle, and tossed the closed bag into the wagon, before slowing down again to meet with stagecoach behind them. Oh, these must be for the children, how nice. The convoy eventually reached the village, the villagers themselves were in awe, though mostly at the animals further up in the convoy; he couldn't blame them; even he was in awe of the elephants, he had no clue where in the realms they could've come from. "Hullo! It's so nice to meet you! Hi! My name's Terry! You look amazing!-" As he did this, with his other hand, he threw handfuls of lollies into the crowd. Lenny eventually stopped his performance, sitting down into the wagon, grabbing handfuls of treats and throwing them out to the crowd. "This is so fun!" "You know it is!" The two continued tossing candies into the cheering crowd, eventually, the crowd began tossing coins back, Terry catching one in his mouth. The coins landed in the cart with light thuds against the cloth-covered wood. Kristoph was laughing with delight now, and eventually, sank back into the wagon along with Benny, who had finished his juggling. Coins continued to rain down on them, much to Kristoph's delight, in awe of their effect on the group. Until now, he had only performed for small groups of people, and at most, families at parties. "They- They really love us!" "You get what you give, I suppose" Kristoph smiled as the procession reached a plot of open land near the edge of the village. What a wonderful world. By the time night fell, the circus had set down their wagons and pitched some simple tents to spend the night in. They gathered around a large bonfire, twinkling into the night. Over the fire there stood a large pot of stew, and around the area were tables, courtesy of the villagers. Around the nearby tables were an assortment of food platters, both from the village and from the circus. Villagers and Circun alike shared stories and food, joyously celebrating the night; Kristoph had since lost Lenny and Benny, and was sitting with a villager by the name of Audrey, and a member of the band named Winston. Kristoph himself was eating a bowl of the beef stew; a piece of sourdough dipped in the side of the hearty meal. He gulped it down, not having food this good since the night before the journey. Gods, this is good... Audrey had an assortment of lavish meats and cheeses, this was probably the first time she had tried any of them, and so with each bite, her eyes widened more and more. Contrary to the neatness of the platter, Winston had a sort of stew sandwich, it was very messy, but it allowed him travel between the tables and talk with more people; he seemed a very outgoing person. "What's it like? Living in a circus?" "It's fun, very-very fun. It's a bit exhausting on the open road, but it's very rewarding. I like it. Performance is my life, I couldn't imagine it being any different now." "Oh? That sounds... Freeing." "It is." Audrey nodded intently as she ate a strip of pastrami, she was considering something. As this happened, Kristoph glanced over to the stew pot, where he saw Garrathen residing; talking with a group of people; various circun and villagers. He's... Here? Kristoph moved closer, slowly approaching the monarch, the waft of a sweet, vanilla-y scent mixed with the smell of the stew. He felt a trance of peace and relaxation come over him. My lord, what is this I'm feeling..? He was almost over there, and empty spot was right next to the King. He walked around the group of benches surrounding the fire, and was meters from the seat. Kristoph recovered, sitting up from the ground, looking to the fire. The calm over him faded away, Garrathen was on the move towards one of the temporary tents. He debated whether to follow after him or not, but decided against it. The kids were long gone, and now that he was over here, he instead helped himself to a bowl of soup, bitter at the missed chance to talk with his idol. Early in the morning, the Circus began packing again. They bid farewell to the villagers, and mad their way to the vehicles. Kristoph, still peeved about his failure the night before, was set on at least something going right, and so, he made the acquaintance of an elderly animal whisperer by the name of Stávi, helping him with packing, supplies, and other menial tasks. This kindness landed him a position in a large stagecoach. He helped Stávi up, and got in himself, packing his items into underbed storage. "Hey! Anyone up there!" "Yeah? Wait- Audrey, is that you?" "How do you know- Oh, are you the puppeteer from last night? Uh, what was it, Kris- Kristoph!?" "Yeah!" "Amazing! I've decided to join the circus!" "Great! Need help up?" "If you could open the door, thanks" "No problem." Kristoph opened the door to the stagecoach, and Audrey climbed up, a small bag in tow. "There's compartments in the floor for your things." "Great" Kristoph closed the door as Audrey moved to the back of the coach. He looked back at the village as the procession continued its journey. "Are you sure about this? We probably won't return to your village..." "I, uh.. I Don't have any family there. And besides, it's like you said, it'll be my life. And now, I can't imagine it being any different." Kristoph smiled and laughed. "Glad you see it that way..." "mm?" "We're in for a long ride." |
Post self-deleted by Helena Post Apotheosis Global Order. |
Dawnbreak : Alliance of Rebirth / Into Dawnbreak IX. - "No tree can reach up into heaven unless its roots have sunk unto hell." Undisclosed location, evening time Jelena woke up, groggy, and hardly moving at all. |
Dawnbreak -- Horizon's Official Fantasy Roleplay As Racine landed at KindleSale, Racine did not find a settlement with much precedent in his life. First of all, for a port city so vibrant in the ways of trade and central to the 'Orangecult' he now found himself in, he did dock in a place that was much large -- really, a settlement more than a city, created from the Inferno itself to have all the qualities of a cultured life but clearly not maintained further to grow into a metropolis. Second of all, KindleSale just felt weird to him. The sands were not their normal, calming beige color as they were in Stevist Guam, or really any port Racine has sailed to before; they were dark black, the color of ash, and like so all-around the coast rather than just limited to a volcanic beaches' curiosity. The sea itself held strange 'creatures,' foreign to Stevist Guam's norms, compared to the largely stripped-down version of Liberty that saw most animals, wild animals, and even livestock systemically expelled from the city limits. Indeed, the land was not much more normative to the Steguanian than the sea; the land had farmers who, for some reason, kept to their work at night and grew strange volatile ashwing that certainly didn't seem safe to grow in his eyes. But Racine was not here to make judgements on another country. Gone were the days where Stevist Guam had that luxury -- it could not afford to deal with more domestic uncertainty within its borders, nor was it willing to expend so many more knights in the effort, as angry as some knights were with his mission to negotiate some sort of aid or peace. Being at the center of the world meant that one had to be selective about what borders to fence and which to keep open, and Racine told himself this repeatedly as he continued walking along the exotic streets of KindleSale. Besides. Perhaps Racine should have learned more before he passed a judgement. Currently, he lacked quite a bit of clarity: he did not even know where he should go to petition those who held power in this country. And so, Racine did something that was rare, but all too important for an envoy of a proud country -- he talked. He talked, by starting conversation with someone in Orangecult, breaking down a fence between the two societies forever in that dialouge ... "Excuse me, good sir." He asked someone who looked like a supervisor for the dock, seeming to be important in the affairs of KindleSale. "Name is Racine. I am from the country of Stevist Guam." He did his best to offer a smile, hoping that the people of this country saw them as a friendly gesture. "I'm bearing a message from the capital, you see, and I'd like to talk to someone to whom that message will find a good answer for ..." |
I keep forgetting, but I do own a meme page for NS on imgflip, need to log in again sometime sooner rather than later. |
Worldbuilding Wednesday #60: On an Elite Tell us about someone of high status in your society. Ideas for inspiration:
Bonus Section: Status
Bonus Section: Lifestyle
Any other notes? |
Hello to everyone in this LOVELY REGION OF Horizon!!! |
I have to go now, but I'll be back tomorrow! |
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