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Leo Wattenberg

@leo@wattenberg.dk

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@leo@wattenberg.dk

Crossroads on the Bridge

She was standing on the bridge connecting her island to the next. She stood there, like someone at a crossroads without a map in a foreign city, confused. Even though it just was a single path forwards she had to take. Even though the bridge was brightly lit, and dawn just around the corner. Even though she knew she couldn’t stay with her mom any longer.

One step after the next, she thought. Cars occasionally would come from ahead, coming way too close due to the lack of a proper foot path. Every time she had to stop and cling to the railing. She wasn’t even halfway across the bridge when she had to take a rest. She could just take an alternative to the dreadful path ahead. The way down always was there. She stared down for a long time, the sun probably rising up behind her, but she couldn’t bring herself to end it while looking.

With her eyes closed, she climbed over the railing, leaned forwards and finally let go. Falling the entirety of a meter or so onto a brightly lit containers of a ship, to the big surprise of herself and the captain who was anxiously watching his vessel pass tightly below the bridge.

Original article

@leo@wattenberg.dk

The Jeweler's Party Planner

“This isn’t happening to me”, thought the party planner as he tripped over the wire in the ball room for the third time, falling into the mirror again. The first two times, he just left some nasty finger print streaks and scratches across the mirror which King Louis XV once owned, but this third time was too much for the old thing. It burst into a hundred pieces.
The party planner was looking around in shock, if he admitted it was him, he’d be fired and, knowing his employer, a rich jeweler who might not get all of his money strictly legally, probably would get thugs sent after him to destroy his live. If he just carried on without fixing it, the jeweler would surely notice the mirror not working the moment he tried to check himself out before entering the ball room, at which point he’d be blamed for not providing an alternative, so this wouldn’t do either. He had to do something, and he had to do it quickly, and found just the right thing for the job


As the jeweler went to the ball room, he checked himself in the mirror as usual. But unlike usual, he didn’t have anything to criticize about his appearance this time. His face was bright, his smile perfect, even his posture seemed to be more elegant. Happy about himself, he went into the ball room, to the awe and surprise of anyone who looked him, for there was a big spaghetti over his face.

The party planner had exchanged the mirror with a photo of him.

Original article

@leo@wattenberg.dk

The Katzenjammer

The cat was bored. Every day it’d lounge around, not a worry to be seen, every night it’d bounce around, only to get scolded by just its owner. What little had it achieved in life? Thrown down a single flower pot and a cup, before the owners stopped leaving easy prey laying around? Lay on a keyboard while they were trying to work? But don’t all cats do that? It had seen others outside, roaming around freely, stealing fish from the fishermen, pooping on it’s neighbors lawn, it even had seen a cat skate, which had gotten the attention of everyone.

The cat looked around. There was absolutely nothing interesting to destroy, and nothing to get famous with, especially not at 3am. Unless…

The cat jumped on the black box with the many little knobs and switches on it. One of it made a satisfying click, it was the one which the owner would press when he started doing loud things with it. The box started buzzing quietly. The stringy thing was ready.
The cat played a perfect Bmajor7sus4 and henceforth was known as
The Katzenjammer

Original article

@leo@wattenberg.dk

The Fat Rat

The rat was fat
The fat rat sat
Wat? Said the rat
Should I be fit, not fat?

The jump was flawless
As it was lawless
The only solace
Speedy Gonzales

The rat met speedy
And was quite needy
“Will you train me, make me strong?”
“of course, you won’t be fat for long”

The fat rat that
Trained now is
A fit rit, whit’s ( // TODO: Find a better line)
No food for cat

Original article

@leo@wattenberg.dk

The Double-Triple-Quadruple Agent

Jack had picked up Dimitri, as the CIA told him. He needed to get exfiltrated as soon as possible, the message was, because his cover had blown. Therefore, Jack and him had to leave country by the least suspicious method known to man, a hovercraft across the tundra, towards the icy polar sea where a submarine would await them.

Dimitri pulled out his vodka, offering some to Jack who politely refused, he probably should remain sober on a journey this dangerous. Dimitri shrugged and downed it all. He probably was done for the day.

Jack was very surprised to find Dimitri keep his cover even when drunk, chanting “death to the capitalists” and like a good commie would do. He asked Dimitri if he maybe could stop that, now that the submarine was in sight, what would the commanders think, when Dimitri slurred something about a being a double-triple-quadruple agent. And indeed, shortly before they reached the submarine, a missile from an Ekranoplan destroyed it, shortly followed by a space laser destroying the Ekranoplan, shortly followed by Hitler in a UFO destroying the space laser.

The Nazis had won after all, Jack thought just before he froze to death.

Original article

@leo@wattenberg.dk

Silent

He didn’t get woken up by cars, usually rolling quickly through the cobbled street. He didn’t get woken up by birds, the geese, the seagulls, none of them had said anything. Neither had the helicopters, the sirens, usually passing by frequently, reminding him that the world was not okay. What happened? Was it him? Or was it the world?

He chose to believe the former, and started going to his home office. It had to be, for the latter would be too devastating to be true.

Original article

@leo@wattenberg.dk

A Live Girl's Problem

The silent crowd was cheering her on. No matter what she did. No matter if she wanted it. They’d always write the same sort of overly supportive messages. Why? She hadn’t done anything special. Were they being sincere? How could they praise her even if she intentionally messed things up? Or did they just do it for attention, out of a mis-guided feeling, confusing cheering, an inherently one-way action, with love?

Whatever the reason, it probably was best for her to play along, while always being highly cautious. Just in case they thought they were entitled to anything. Entitled men were just too dangerous.

Original article

@leo@wattenberg.dk

Ein Wort pro Jahr

Kindergarten

Kindergarten

Kindergarten

Einschulung

Hausaufgaben

Suizidversuch

Psychatrie

Orientierungsstufenbeginn

Hausaufgaben

Dänemark

Dänisch???

Überraschungstheaterauftritt

Efterskole

Gymnasium!

Freundessuizid

Abi

Informatik…

????

Multimedienproduktion!

Kurzfilm

Corona

Original article

@leo@wattenberg.dk

The EDE model: Exploring, Developing and Established Creators

Moin.

A while back, I posted a thing about “Why Grinding is bad for you” on r/youtubegaming, where I encouraged gaming creators to try different formats, instead of going for the first thing which comes to mind, which quite often is just a Let’s Play. To aid this discussion, I developed the EDE-model, which I wanted to expand on here.

The basic gist of the EDE model is that creators who just are starting out have much more freedoms on what they can do than big channels.

1. The Exploration Stage

At this first stage, a creator just made a channel with the intend to upload something, starting from 0 subscribers, 0 views and 0 videos, or something very close to this. This crucially means the following:

  • Nobody has any expectations on what this channel is going to upload. Because of this, the creator has the tough fate of complete creative freedom where they can do anything.
  • Typical channel recommendations (“upload on a schedule! stick to formats! consistency is king!”) aren’t really applicable yet, because they’re strategies which optimize for existing subscribers and thus require some degree of following to be effective.

My advice for creators at this stage would be to try anything that’s vaguely interesting to them. To not get started doing regular formats and series just yet, but just try everything they always wanted to try. To create as if view counts and subscriber counts don’t exist.

This freedom is not something which you really get later on in the process, at least not without alienating vast portions of your audience.

2. The Development Stage

At this stage, the creator probably has made a few dozen videos (depending on the type of content and effort which went into each individual video), and figured out which kinds of content they want to do more of, as well as which kinds of content they don’t like doing. With the experience they’ve gathered in the Exploration stage, they probably also have considerably better video making skills and equipment than in the very beginning, and possibly already have gotten feedback from friends and family on which videos were nice to watch and which ones didn’t work out as intended.

Based on this, the creator now can start transitioning towards doing what established channels do, namely:

  • Find a niche to be in
  • Develop formats and serial content which can be uploaded on a regular schedule
  • Start putting more care into marketing, ie SEO and good thumbnails/titles

If a developing creator and finds their initial niche to be a dead end for whatever reason – too much effort per video, copyright trouble, getting bored of it – it’s completely fine to go back to exploring other options. This is where it comes in handy to have had this exploration stage beforehand, so they already know what they’d also want to do and come up with a somewhat thought out plan on how to transition between the niches.

But, if you’ve found your idea to be sustainable and fun, you can continue on your path and eventually reach…

3. The Established Stage

At this stage, the creator has probably made hundreds of videos, and is decently well known in their niche. This also is the stage where fans start to become a significant force, be it for promotion, merch sales or patreon stuff. Micro-optimizations can become surprisingly powerful here.

Since their channel probably generates some decent amount of money one way or the other, the creator can invest into the channel much more, be it through buying better equipment, dedicating more time to the channel that they otherwise would be working on a “real” job, or getting opportunities which smaller YouTubers just don’t get. Note though that the money doesn’t come on its own, but drags a whole tail of bureaucracy behind it.

The niche they live in is pretty set in stone and difficult to escape from without losing a lot of attention from subscribers. That said, it sometimes can be very necessary to pivot even as an established creator, eg. if the niche they’re in is very small and/or shrinking, causing the channel to stagnate. Further, because the fans and subscribers have very strong expectations of the channel, it can become increasingly difficult to meet these expectations.

Which isn’t to say that an established creator has a worse fate than someone in one of the other stages; there’s a reason why all the bigger YouTubers can be found in this category. It’s just that it comes with a different set of challenges than a small one, so it’s not like the moment you become established, all your trouble will go away.

Why this model can be useful

Often, creators who start out have a fairly concrete idea of what they want to do, so they skip the exploration stage and then go straight for the development stage. And while this may work, it often times leads to this “small YouTuber mentality”, in which the creator “grinds” out videos day after day or week after week, without getting anywhere, and the advice from peers being “just keep at it, do these micro-optimizations and hope that the algorithm picks you up eventually”.

The problem I have with this mentality is that it reduces something which can be very much fulfilling – video production and the creative process in general – into a 9-5 kinda job in which the modus operandi is “preservere against the odds”, and this job doesn’t even pay well.

My hope is that this model encourages people to pursue extreme levels of creativity at first, and once they know where their creative preferences lie, start making a channel geared towards success.

Original article

@leo@wattenberg.dk

The SEE–NTS Model. A better model for Online Video Programming.

Moin.

The Hero–Hub–Help model which YouTube developed in 2014 has been a helpful tool for video marketeers to help them understand what they can do on YouTube. Namely:

  • Hero content is big events, which you can advertise in a big way. It gets huge attention on the day it’s happening, and then quickly becomes uninteresting again, such as the E3 presentations.
  • Hub content is regularly scheduled content, to keep subscribers (and viewers you’ve reached through the other content) interested in your channel. This content gets watched by your subscribers in the first couple days after upload, and then basically never again.
  • Help content (originally named: hygiene) is helpful content teaching users how to do stuff, ie tutorials. This content gets found at any time via search, but doesn’t add much value to subscribers to your channel.

Now, this model kinda makes sense if you have a product you’re making videos about. But it kinda breaks down once you put it into the context of a normal YouTuber: It doesn’t make sense to make a big event which only is relevant for a week, so Hero content is out. Hub content is more in line to what YouTubers do, but YouTubers do so much more than make videos which just are consistent and appeal to their current subscribers.

So, out of this model, only a few bits actually are usable for YouTubers, and even these only are so with caveats. So I thought about it a bit and came up with a new model instead:

The SEE–NTS Model

SEE-NTS is short for the following aspects:

Image

Image

The SEE-NTS model can be thought of as 3-dimensional space.
Also, I like to pronounce it as “sea ants”.

  • Subscriber Content. Ie content made primarily for subscribers, featuring funny in-jokes, references to previous videos, stories that make the creator more relatable to their fans and such.
  • Evergreen Content. Ie content which will stay relevant to the world for the (forseeable) future.
  • Event Content. Ie content which is tied to certain events.

— with their counterparts —

  • New Viewer Content. Ie content which is accessible and fully understandable to someone who never has seen any of your content before.
  • Timely Content. Ie content which is relevant during a specific window of time only, and then basically never again, eg news.
  • Serial Content. Ie content which you can sure you’ll see more of next week anyway.

The individual aspects make predictions on whether the view distribution will be flat over time, or have a spike shortly after publication:

  • Subscriber content is watched by subscribers, so it’ll get most of it’s views within the first week of publication, while New Viewer content may get discovered by potential new subscribers at any time.
  • Timely content is only relevant shortly after publication, after which it’s old news. Evergreen content is ever relevant.
  • Event content is most watched during the event (→ Tentpoling), while Serial content is watched all year round.

As such, the model explains why Hero-Hub-Help makes the predictions that it does: Hero content is minmaxed for spikeyness (Event/Timely, with a lot of advertising thrown at it so that talking about the Subscriber/New Viewer axis kinda is pointless), Hub content is Subscribers/Serial content (and doesn’t nearly spike as high), and Help content is minmaxed for flatness.

SEE-NTS also allows for other content to be categorized sensibly:

  • Mr Beast’s content is no doubt Serial (it’s not really a surprise what he’ll do next), but features some Event-like qualities (he basically makes his own events in each video by giving away a lot of money). His videos are accessible for New Viewers, yet appeal for Subscribers as well. And the stunts he pulls generally age well, so: His content sits pretty much in the middle and manages to more or less cover all bases.
  • A band doing a concert live stream is an Event for everyone who already knows the band (ie Subscriber-ish), but since music doesn’t really get outdated, it also is strongly Evergreen.
  • Videos like “how to decorate your house for Halloween” and similar seasonal content is Evergreen while the (yearly repeating) Event is going on. This kind of content technically could still work for Subscribers primarily, but realistically it’s probably gonna be a optimized for New Viewers.

Using SEE–NTS for Content Programming

SEE-NTS can be used to assess a channel’s current standing to make decisions for future content programming.

Most obviously, if the vast majority of views a channel has come from subscribers and all formats on the channel are made for subscribers, that channel may want to develop a format which is meant to appeal to non-subscribers and draw them in.

If a creator feels like they’re grinding away in a hamster wheel, but can’t afford to take a day off because all their subscribers will lose interest, maybe Evergreen Subscriber content would be able to bridge these gaps in the future.

If a musician can only realistically make one big Event/Evergreen-type video a year and struggles to re-activate subscribers in-between uploads, them making Subscriber/Serial/Timely content in-between to fill the gaps and keep people engaged throughout the year may be useful.

Of course, as always: It’s hard to recommend any specifics without knowing the actual channel. I hope however it can help creators, at a glance, find out where they are with their current programming, and where they have potential left to explore.

Limitations

SEE-NTS as a model doesn’t predict how successful content is going to be, it only can predict the rough shape of the view curve. The real world (and “The Algorithm”) of course can always throw a spanner in the works by having your viewers receive the video differently than what you designed it for.

Unlike Hero-Hub-Help, SEE-NTS doesn’t do content recommendations. For example, it’s not entirely clear to me what Subscriber/Event/Evergreen content would even look like, while for Help content, the hint already is in the name, and thus are the strategies you should take (ie SEO on your customer’s troubles).

SEE-NTS is untested as a tool for content programming. The questions that need to be answered in the future are:

  • Is SEE-NTS useful to accurately describe different channel programming strategies?
  • Is SEE-NTS complete, or are there more factors which are essential for programming?
  • Do creators who use SEE-NTS understand their programming better than those who don’t?
  • Is SEE-NTS useful to find gaps in the content programming?

Overall thoughts

From what I can tell so far, the SEE-NTS model seems promising. Even if it fails as a “practical” tool that can tell creators “do this”, it may still be a worthwhile academical tool as it categorizes content way better than Hero–Hub–Help.

Of course, I’d love even more for it to be useful as a practical tool. I guess time will tell how good this thing is.

Original article

@leo@wattenberg.dk

Gnome 3. A review.

Moin.

You may know Gnome as the “ah, something simple, which… — wait, where are my desktop icons and task bar?” desktop environment. Which, no doubt, it is; it’s what I liked about it when I first started using it in version 3.8 all those years ago. But recently, I discovered that it hadn’t just been that, but that it actively helps making things more seamless.

Let’s back up for a bit.

My theory on Desktop Environments is, in a nutshell, “if you notice them, they do something wrong”, or in other words: “A good desktop environment lets you focus on your tasks without getting in your way”. This basically also is true for programs in general, if it lets you do the thing you want to do easily and in one flow, it probably is a good program.

This effectively explains why Windows 10 keeps greatly displeasing me every time I use it. It’s design changes between the most recent Fluent Design, all the way down to Windows 2000/XP-style depending on which program you use (even built-in settings programs), and things like dark theme pretty much don’t work on anything at all. And even simple settings changes like adjusting the mic gain, require you to either dive into almost-invisible text-links in the settings app, or finding the right pop-up window of the old system control center. And after each somewhat major update, Cortana and Edge greet you yet again. To add to that, there’s my personal clumsiness which causes me to click on the wrong icon in the taskbar not quite daily, but enough that I now have “padding apps” between apps which take very long to load, so that a misclick doesn’t cause years of waiting. All of these things take me out of “the zone” whenever you encounter them, and I very frequently do.

Image

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Gnome’s quick access to settings

Gnome beats this any day of the week. Changing the mic gain can be done right in next to where you know the volume slider is, if the mic is active. And since loads of apps are GTK-based anyway, the dark theme (or any theme, really) gets applied pretty much universally, with the notable exceptions of the major browsers and blender – all of which have their own, very capable theming options though anyway – and Qt-based apps.

Encountering a Qt-based app in Gnome is weird every time, but likewise, encountering a GTK-based app in KDE is weird as well. And while there is the minor problem of them looking kinda weird compared to the rest of the system, there is the slightly more major issue that Qt-apps tend to use different things for everything. For example, if I want to open a file in a GTK-based program, it gives me effectively Nautilus (aka Gnome Files), whereas Qt-based programs give me Dolphin. But look closely at the difference towards the folders on the left-hand side:

Before

BeforeAfter

After

Top: Nautilus-based “open file” modal (here: for Discord), Bottom: Dolphin-based “open file” modal (here: for kdenlive).

Where Nautilus has shortcuts for the images/documents/music/videos folders, Dolphin instead has basically the same, just slightly-different looking icons for a completely different function: Clicking on them filters the current folder for the type of file you’re looking for. And don’t get me wrong, it’s a very useful option, and on KDE, this Dolphin-modal does have the same shortcuts to drives and places, it’s just that this particular Qt-to-GTK-port is kinda confusing because it breaks the “there are shortcuts to your folders to the left” model that is established everywhere else by putting a search filter there instead.

But this is a small price to pay for what is my favourite part of Gnome: The Activity Overview.

Image

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The Activity Overview combines so many things into one place, it’s just awesome. Dead center, you have all your open windows. Not as window previews forced to the same size or just a bunch of icons as you may know from alt+tabbing or taskbars, but as actual windows which do a very decent job at conveying which windows are big and which aren’t. If you do need a taskbar, you can find it here as well, and if you need something which resembles OSX’ Launchpad and Spotlight search, they are here as well. In this view you can close windows you no longer need, or drag them to other screens, both real ones and virtual ones.

Opening the Activity Overview is as easy as pressing Super (the “Windows” key), or flinging your cursor into the top-left corner. It feels so good to use and I use it so often that it’s become my second nature: whenever I’m using a desktop environment which doesn’t have that, I’m actually starting to struggle a bit, to the point where I put the taskbar up top in Windows and KDE, so that flinging my cursor up left at least brings it in the right vicinity of the “Start” button.


Until recently, my review of Gnome would’ve stopped about there. The activity overview is awesome, and the rest is out of the way and (mostly) consistent, therefore, it’s a good desktop environment for me and I will continue using it whenever possible.

But, as I alluded to in the beginning, it’s taking steps towards making things more seamless.

Image

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Gnome’s Noficiation center

As a small example, the notification center shows notifications (duh) and your calendar, but also give you player controls for the YouTube tab that currently is playing. So you can pause and skip videos playing in the background at any time without having to find the right browser tab.

The bigger example is Gnome Online Accounts. Which isn’t actually that new, but I didn’t bother trying it beforehand. Because, what I associate with “connect your account” is that it just grabs your email and avatar for account creation purposes, and maybe starts posting farmville status updates to your timeline if you aren’t careful. But that isn’t what’s happening here. If all you have is a Google account and put it into Gnome Online Accounts, it automatically…

  • sets up your Email account in Geary and Evolution,
  • syncs your Google calendar with Gnome Calendar and Evolution,
  • imports your contacts in Gnome Contacts and Evolution,
  • adds a remote server connection to Google Drive in Gnome Files,
  • adds Google Documents to view in Gnome Documents,
  • imports photos from Google Photos to Gnome Photos,
  • does possibly more! I haven’t discovered all of the integrations yet.

Now, this sounds exactly like what Android does with the Google account, OSX with the AppleID/iCloud and Microsoft with the Microsoft Account, and to some degree, it is. The difference is however that it doesn’t try to get you into it’s ecosystem at which point it can extract money out of you for more storage space or whatever, but that it rather lets you keep your existing accounts and allows you to work with them faster. For example by letting you move stuff from and to your favourite cloud provider without having to open a browser, downloading it, finding it in the downloads folder and then moving it about.

Of course, we are still in FOSS-Land, so some of these integrations are kinda janky – I notice for example that the Gnome Files/Google Drive integration refuses to go much faster than 90 kiB/s despite me sitting on a 25 Mbit/s line – and some of the Gnome-specific apps aren’t quite as stable as the old guard – Geary sometimes refuses to connect to accounts until a system restart happens and sometimes insists that I’m working offline even though I’ve done nothing but watch YouTube videos for the past 3 hours.

And this shows the one gripe I do have with what Gnome’s UX decision imperative to keep things simple: The Geary team won’t build in a way manually reload. It instead shows you a banner saying “You are now working offline”, which you can dismiss, and that’s it. Which is immensely frustrating, because if you as a user are encountering an error which isn’t your fault, are you really supposed to… just wait until the program eventually decides to fix itself? Or did it fix itself and I am online again, but the banner didn’t remove itself afterwards? There’s no indication for when the next refresh happens either, because the only setting in Geary for updates is “automatically check for new mail”, which is either on or off, so when I see the banner, do I just click X and wait around for… ten minutes? Is that even enough? That’s not what I do! Monkey no patience! Monkey do thing! MONKEY SMASH BUTTONS!

YouTube video player

… I’m beginning to wonder if Windows’ automatic “error fixing” thing actually would be a good feature for Gnome, because even if it doesn’t do anything, it at least lets you play around with a thing until it fixes itself…

Image

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Mockup: An “you’re offline” banner that’s actually useful and lets me retry manually.


So yeah. Gnome. Very awesome almost always, but can be kinda frustrating when it doesn’t work. Highly recommended, 5/5 toes. Get it on https://gnome.org

Original article

@leo@wattenberg.dk

Ein schreckliches Schicksal

Der Glöckner saß oben auf dem Glockenturm und las ein Buch. Der Mond rahmte ihn sehr schön ein. Seine Silhouette war einzigartig, niemand sonst würde solch zerzauste Kleidung mit einem Zylinder kombinieren. Er hatte sich gerade umgeblättert, als ein weißer Blitz, gefolgt von einem zweiten, ihn zusammenzucken ließ.

Der Glöckner drehte sich um. Er sah, dass der Mond einen neuen, riesigen, roten Krater bekommen hatte. Und dass der Mond langsam größer wurde. Der Glöckner fing an, die Warnglocke zu läuten.

DONG!

Niemand regte sich. Aber nach nur einem Schlag hatte er das auch noch nicht erwartet.

DONG!

DONG!

Die ersten Fenster schlugen auf. Verwirrte Menschen guckten zu ihm hoch. Es war weder Feuerschein zu sehen, noch fernes Hufgeklapper von Pferden zu hören, noch schwere Winde zu fühlen.

DONG!

Mit lautem Krachen kamen die Schockwellen der Explosionen an. Die Bewohner der Stadt richteten ihre Blicke nach oben.

DONG!

Die Bewohner der Stadt wurden sich der Lage bewusst. Der Mond war gerade dabei, auf die Erde zu fallen. Auf ihre Stadt.

DONG!

Panik machte sich breit. Die ersten fingen an, in ihrem Nachtgewand durch die Straßen zu laufen. Alle mit einem Ziel: Das Stadttor.

DONG!

Das Stadttor war um diese Uhrzeit verschlossen. Doch so gut es darin war, Feinde daran zu hindern, unangekündigt in die Stadt einzufallen, so schlecht war es, die Bewohner am ausfallen zu hindern.

DONG!

Die Bewohner hatten den hölzernen Riegel entfernt und versuchten, das Tor aufzudrücken. Es leistete beträchtlichen Wiederstand, da niemand die eigentlich dafür vorgesehenden Winden verwendete, doch die Masse an schiebenden Menschen war endlich erfolgreich.

DONG!

Weitere Bewohner kamen aus ihren Häusern. Sie hatten sich die Zeit genommen, zumindest noch Schuhe anzuziehen, Mäntel überzuwerfen und etwas Proviant, und waren es nur rohe Kartoffeln, mitzunehmen.

DONG!

Eine Familie lief Richtung Tor, doch das kleine Mädchen stolperte über ihre ungeschnürten Schuhe. Der Vater ließ seine Koffer fallen, die er extra für Notfälle wie diese gepackt hatte, und griff seine Tochter und lief weiter.

DONG!

Ein Mann, der anscheinend seinen halben Hausstand retten wollte, wurde an einer Hausecke von jemandem angerempelt, verlor das Gleichgewicht und verstreute seine Habseligkeiten über die dunklen Straßen. Er verfluchte die Person, die schon wieder verschwunden war, und machte sich daran, die Sachen wieder zusammenzuklauben.

DONG!

Ein Kind suchte weinend nach seinen Eltern. Sie hatten die Stadt schon verlassen. Doch niemand hatte die Zeit, dem Kind zu sagen, in welche Richtung es suchen sollte.

DONG!

Der Mann wurde ein zweites Mal angerempelt, er verlor ein zweites Mal sein Gleichgewicht, und ein zweites Mal verstreuten seine Sachen sich über die Straße. Bäuchlings liegend hob er seinen Kopf um abermals zu verfluchen, doch dazu kam es nicht mehr, ein starker Fuß stolperte über ihn, und drückte sein Gesicht mit einem hässlichen Knacken in den Schlamm.

DONG!

Ein flüchtendes Paar hielt inne und diskutierte kurz. Einer von beiden lief darauf hin zurück, um etwas zu holen. Der andere wartete nicht.

DONG!

Der Glöckner hätte eigentlich schon lange aufhören können. Wer jetzt noch nicht mitbekommen hatte, dass ein Notfall bestand, der würde es auch mit weiteren Glockenschlägen nicht mehr mitbekommen.

DONG!

Der Mond war nun schon viel näher und hatte sich gedreht. Die beiden Einschlagskrater leuchteten wie böse Augen.

DONG!

Der Glöckner konnte besser sehen als alle anderen, dass Flucht im Prinzip zwecklos war. Der Mond war wesentlich größer als er je gedacht hatte, und wenn sein Experiment mit der Stahlkugel, die er mal von der Turmspitze fallen lassen hatte, irgendwie hochzuskalieren war, dann würden die Trümmer der Stadt noch Meilenweit fliegen.

DONG!

Die ersten Trümmer vom Mond regneten hinab. Einer traf den Partner, der zurücklief um seine Katze zu retten. Er stand nicht mehr auf.

DONG!

Ein Mensch seilte sich in den Brunnen ab. Er mochte vielleicht als einziger die ganze Geschichte unbeschadet überleben. Begraben unter Meilen starkem Mondfels.

DONG!

Der Boden bebte, oder war es die Luft an sich? Um den Mond herum hatte sich Feuer gebildet.

DONG!

Der Glöckner zog das Tempo seiner Schläge an.

DONG!

Auch die Letzten waren jetzt aus dem Stadttor raus.

DONG!

Der Glöckner fühlte selbst langsam die Panik in ihm steigen.

DONG!

Und Bedauern.

DONG!

Er hätte die Stadt friedlich entschlafen lassen können.

DONG!

Nur er hätte Angst gehabt.

DONG!

Der Glöckner verbrannte als erstes.

DONGDONGDO–knack

Die Glocke läutete noch ein paar Male ohne ihn auf ihrem Fall nach unten, bevor sie zerbrach.

Original article

@leo@wattenberg.dk

Observations of the VTuber scene

Moin. This thing is mostly observations of the VTuber scene a few weeks in. I end up making some content recommendations in it, so it might be useful to long-time VTubers as well, though it shouldn’t be understood as “this is how you should do something”, but rather a “this is how I see it being done currently”.

The obvious

Starting with the obvious: As a VTuber, your body can look like however you want, but your movements and expressions typically are fairly restricted. Even if you are 3D and have roomscale tracking, you still can’t really interact with objects or other people in a convincing way. At least not now, and not in real time.

That said, even with these limitations, being a VTuber just gives you a lot of benefits that you wouldn’t get as a regular person:

  • Full privacy. Which you’d also get doing Podcasts, radio or voiceover-stuff in general, but all of which would lack…
  • Facial expressions. Just having head bops and wiggles and a mouth that can change between an eternal smile and a :D when talking is enough of a fixpoint for me that I can actually watch a just-talking-stream of a VTuber without feeling the need to do something else. (For comparison, I cannot listen to podcasts on a couch, as my eyes start to wander off fairly quickly. Which then leads me to doing something else and abandonning the podcast altogether, more often than not.) Now, you also get that just talking to a camera, but then you’d be giving up your privacy.
  • A more-interesting-than-average brand, without doing anything. Even as the most generic anime girl, you’re still way, way more recognizable than a generic gaming channel that has some 3D-dubstep intro as its only “branding” element.

Branding

Umbrella brands are surprisingly powerful. You can see this most clearly with Hololive and Nijisanji IMHO:

The Hololive brand is super strong. Every new member gets to start out with thousands or tens of thousands of subs, simply because it says “hololive” next to it. And that already sets expectations: It’s going to be a woman, the woman is going to be an idol, and there in general won’t be any unbearable technical issues.

Nijisanji in contrast doesn’t have these expectations as strongly, although their members also start with at least a few thousand subscribers. That is partially because there’s just so many more members, partially because new members could be anything, man or woman, quality ranging from good to “average new YouTuber”, technical ability ranging from good to permanently clipping audio. That said, Nijisanji is offering quite a valuable service (VTuber avatars and support) to quite a lot more people. And this non-exclusivity gives the company quite a bonus in my book.

Update: It has been pointed out to me by various people that I completely misunderstand Nijisanji and the impact they’ve had, and that Nijisanji ID’s technical troubles are more a problem of Indonesia not having that good of an infrastructure. The problem is, these technical issues, though not their fault, are translating into what image I’m seeing of them, and all the awesome stuff they did in the past is invisible to me, unless I really start digging. To be clear, this is an issue of the brand, not an issue of the individual creators among them. And even though the different regional branches are more or less independent from each other, the overall brand still is Nijisanji Region (apart from China), not some wildly different naming like you get with Mars, Twix and Snickers (which all belong to Mars).

These umbrella brands are fairly rare on YouTube these days. For me, only Machinima comes to mind. Like, even the EDUtube empires of the Green brothers or Brady Haran don’t have an umbrella brand. Instead, they have SciShow and CrashCourse with direct sister channels, but keep those brands fairly separate.

Formats

Formats really matter. Most VTubers are doing game streams and talk streams. Those who do game streams tend to get discovered better, while people who do talk streams tend to get loads more super chats. For example, Flare manages to out-rank Aqua in super chat revenue, despite having less than half her subscriber count.

Doing unique formats which are more than just the generic talk/game streams also seems to be an advantage:

  • Coco grew insanely fast with her Asacoco news show,
  • 3D shows (especially 3D debuts) perform super well,
  • non-standard game streams like speedruns/races work quite well, and
  • non-standard talk streams (interviews, fairy counselling, etc) work as well.

This is true across all of YouTube, btw: Having a unique format at least gives you a chance at standing out, and even though you run the risk of having a format which just doesn’t resonate with viewers, you at least are looking for doors with each format you try instead of bashing your head against the wall with generic gameplay in the hopes of breaking through eventually

Highlights and clips are super important, especially for the Japanese scene. I don’t think Fubuki would be where she is now without her viral meme videos, I don’t think any of them would have anywhere near that large of an international audience if it wasn’t for the translators and the translators only translating highlights, rather than whole streams.

I do think that VTubers (and streamers in general) should try hiring fans to make highlight videos and upload them to their own channel, so that their channels become more accessible for those living outside of the normal streaming timezones. Nijisanji in particular has been getting better at that recently, on their company channels at least.

Misc.

Ultra-low-latency with DVR disabled is everywhere. I don’t think this is benefiting any channel that gets more than 100 concurrent viewers or so, because at those sizes, the chat starts being more delayed than the stream itself. This is because YouTube polls chat at set intervals for new messages instead of sending out each message on its own, and those poll intervals get rarer with more messages being sent.

Also, it makes it rather difficult to watch the stream on slightly subpar connections, or just if you’re half a planet away. This is because any rebuffer that sets back the latency to >5s will cause another rebuffer and skip ahead, resulting in large parts of the stream just being constantly buffering. Really as soon as you’ve got a few viewers, Low Latency is the way to go, with normal latency being great for anything which doesn’t have any meaningful chat interaction built in (eg singing streams).


Sexuality is quite a thing. It probably is easier to be that sexual in public if your real face isn’t attached to it, and it’s quite surprising how far you can get with that on YouTube without even being demonetized. On top of that, it tends to generate quite entertaining content by default. That said, I think the process of sexualising others is more problematic among the VTuber scene than other communities on YouTube, whether that is fans commenting on it on every occasion, bosses putting their talent into swimsuits, or character designs having tits so large that you’re running out of alphabet to describe them. I hope for the women involved that the disconnect between their character and the real person can helps with this.


VTubers in general seem to do disproportionately much live content, with the notable exceptions being Kizuna AI and Ami Yamato. I think there’s a lot of potential for non-live content which strictly works with motion capturing (as opposed to hand-animation). It doesn’t need to be the current livestreaming VTubers doing that either; in fact, most of the VOD content I see from the current live-VTubers is somewhat similar to the early 2006-level YouTube nonsense. There really is a lot of different directions to explore here. Putting it out there right now: I want to see a VTuber with a degree in Astronomy teach me about Supernovae.


VTubers being mostly Japan-based obviously results in a lot of Japanese content. The search interest in the USA in VTubers is growing quickly though, so any VTuber who can do English content is at an advantage here. Also, assuming that VTubers become popular in the US, you can bet that they’ll spread to the rest of the world as well, so it might be worth to start doing VTuber content in your local language, so that by the time it gets big, you’ll already be ready and at the forefront.


A lot of VTubers have been doing daily streams. And while that definitely isn’t bad, please, do yourself a favor and take days off, where you don’t spend a single thought on your channel. Daily content tends to be unsustainable, with even the largest YouTubers burning out with that after just a few years. More well-being advice can be found in the Creator Academy.

Overall, …

… I’ve been very impressed by how compelling the content various VTubers make have been to me. I’ve never watched more than 5 episodes of Anime I think (including Pokemon or the Simpsons), but the charme of a dog girl doing cute things while playing Doom, or a chubby devil trying to convince an art student that eyes don’t grow back just gets me. More recently, I’ve been hanging out with the Indonesian crowd, as their content is 75% English anyway, so I actually have a chance of getting the jokes.

In that sense, otsuu, I’m strapped in and ready for a wild ride.

Original article

@leo@wattenberg.dk

The Money Rat

It had been a surprisingly quiet day at the Imperial Mint. The money printers had been running smoothly, not even once causing a paper jam or complaining that yellow was running out, and most jobs already were done by noon. On such a day, any minder or guard would be bored to death, if it hadn’t been for the engineering prowess of Josh, who had managed to tune one of the CCTV monitors to the sports channel. While this technically was a fireable offense, the guard room had large windows watching the fabrication hall. So they probably would notice a van coming in at the parking lot, masked people jumping out and running towards the entrance on the remaining CCTV monitors, and even if they didn’t, they surely would see those people jogging by to reach the freshly minted piles of cash.

But today was a surprisingly quiet day, and the only thing moving in the parking lot was a lonely rat. Even if the guards had paid attention, they wouldn’t have seen the rat, for the rat was small and the parking lot unreasonably big for a building that so few people would visit in their entire life. But the Imperials wanted their buildings to make an impression, so of course it had to be big, and of course it had to be near the most beautiful landscape the country had to offer.

The rat meanwhile was rather unhappy about its situation on the parking lot. The only thing kinda looking like food was painfully obvious rat poison, real cover against predators was eternities away in all directions, and the pavement was annoyingly rough compared to anything it knew from the sewers and later, enclosures. But all this pain would soon be forgotten, it could almost sense the cheesy smell of success.

A red dot was dancing across a gateway of the building in front of it. The mission was clear: Gnaw through it. The rat ran towards the gateway and went to work. The rubber tasted terrible. But, rubber being rubber and rat teeth being rat teeth, the rat made quick work of it. It was in, but the helpful red dot was nowhere to be found. The rat decided to wait for a minute for it to show up, but even after two minutes, the red dot wouldn’t show up. Cursing at its unreliable partner, the rat went on, searching. It had trained for this.

As with anything in the area, the unreasonably large hall contained unreasonably large buckets and contraptions, and a stair with unreasonably large steps leading up it. People noises were coming from upstairs, and the rat decided to check those out first. Grated stairs, the rat sighed. Of course. Humans seemed to enjoy tormenting their feet.

Finally having arrived at the top of the stairs, the rat saw a familiar color scheme in one of the buckets below. Unfortunately, it had to pass the guard room to get there, but fortunately, all the guards were staring at a screen. The rat closed in on the room, the people in it sparsely making noise. But just as it was in the room, the people started yelling and jumping around. The rat hasted forwards, through the other door, away, away from the stomping feet, which celebrated Josh turning one of their walkie-talkies into a TV speaker for the sports broadcast.

The rat looked down onto the bucket with the familiar color scheme. In it, there were more 1000 ¤ bundles than it had ever seen. The fall down onto it was, while unpleasant, definitely not dangerous, so the rat jumped. Just as the rat had landed, the guards started cheering again, their team had scored a touchdown. One of the guards quickly went back to dutifully inspecting the other monitors and the hall, but there was just as little happening now as there was fifteen minutes ago. Even if he had tried, the grey rat was basically invisible against the grey background of the bin.

The rat grabbed one bundle with its teeth, jumped out of the bucket and back towards where it came from: A dirty van, parking on a nearby road leading to the forest. The handler gave the rat the promised bit of cheese. Then, he opened the doors to the mobile enclosures. More rats were waiting. The money rat, pleased with the bit of cheese it had gotten, but still hungry for more, scurried back to the Imperial Mint. The other rats followed it.

They had trained for this.

Original article

@leo@wattenberg.dk

11. A Reflection of Beyond the Edge of the World

Moin.

I hope you had fun reading this short story. However, I’m interested in improving, so I’ve collected some criticism both from me and from others.

Alice says:

1. The protagonist is rather forgettable

I think I agree with this. I originally wanted to make them genderless (you know, “I” can be anyone! even you!), but by doing so also made them somewhat characterless. And with the plot going on to let the protagonist find a girlfriend, it’s very probable we’re dealing with a male protagonist anyways, so I completely undermined the first idea anyway

2. My world building is rather weak

I think this is partially because English still is a foreign language to me, so I don’t know the best words. Maybe I should ask Trump if I can buy some of his.
Further, I spend too little time on it. For example:

I had forged my fair share of custom tools in the factory, from the smallest springs to the biggest wrench, but I always had access to the never-ending power of steam. Ralph had his right arm. Well, he also had his left arm, a hammer and an anvil, but all in all, if he wanted a piece of metal to be flat, he couldn’t just plop it into a steam hammer and wait for a couple seconds or minutes, he had to work it flat, by hand, and re-heat it often. (Chapter 5)

This part is meant to convey to the reader that in Valand, industrialization is going on while in Greenland, it’s still all muscle power. (I do think the joke in it worked. I’ve written it so long ago, it completely caught me off guard this morning while I was reading through it again)

To make things worse, I did say in the beginning that industrialization is restricted in Valand , so we don’t even know if blacksmiths up there are using hand power usually. Overall, I think my approach this time (write first, think later) hindered me worldbuilding properly. On the other hand, it did allow me to write the story remarkably quickly. I could’ve fixed this in post, writing beautiful and consistent descriptions after the story was done, but I kinda just wanted to get it out.

3) The logo looks like smash bros, and way too clean.

Firstly, it looks like my brand identity, thank you very much, and secondly, I think both me and Smash bros ultimate try the same thing here, showing sunrise from the ISS. In my case, it symbolizes the edge of the world, in SSBU, it symbolizes the world as a whole.

Image

Image

Sunrise as seen from the ISS. Image: NASA/ESA

That said, my Logo thingy was thrown together in 15 minutes. Had I wanted to execute my other idea, a view from Valand over the lower lands, I’d have to spend quite some time in Blender making it work. Time which I didn’t have this time around, because there was a deadline. So, have the logo thingy one last time:

Logo: Beyond the Edge of the World

Logo: Beyond the Edge of the World

4. I’m jumping around somewhat and not bringing ideas to their end.

In particular, in chapter 5 there’s a bit where the protagonist is fixing the machine, and the smith is pleased with the progress. Alice says it’s confusing the smith would say that when they just had started.

In that particular case, I’d agree, I did have a note there this morning saying [[MORE]], but left it as that, so that part was plain laziness. I don’t know if this a problem on a larger scale. Because, I do intentionally jump to skip boring bits, especially between chapters. I kinda write them like L-cuts, with a brief summary of what we as readers missed in the beginning

The question is whether this is as annoying as a jump cut, or not too noticeable like an L-cut.

Algorithms say:

I’m using too few transition words.

Yoast in particular likes to yell at me for this.

I think it flows pretty well and is easy to read, but again, I don’t necessarily have the right feeling for the language. It also yelled at me for not using subheadlines everywhere, and for using the same sentence beginnings when I used repetition as stylistic device.

I say:

I did not follow Vogler’s Hero’s Journey.

If we take the city episode as approach to the inmost cave and the ordeal as per Vogler, it’s a bit weird that the protagonist gets no reward immediately, and instead Lily is both reward and road back much later on. If (as I originally intended) take the path to the volcano as approach to the inmost cave, it’s lacking a fight between good and evil (ie the ordeal) altogether.

Either way, I break with this scheme further by having the resurrection before the road back.

I did not follow Swain’s Scene and Sequel method

… in which characters have a goal, followed by a conflict, followed by disaster, all of which is the scene, ie the part where the plot develops, followed by reaction, dilemma and decision, ie the part where the character and story develops. I think my character could’ve been deeper if I had used it more.

I dislike my dialogues.

I just default to one character asking all the time and the other answering the questions. I tried to get away from this as often as possible, but the dialogues still feel kinda meh.

I keep shifting into indirect speech and speech summaries.

This probably is because I dislike my dialogues, so rather than improving them, I try to avoid writing them. This of course abstracts the dialogue to the point where you’re not really in the story, and instead reading the summary of the story.

The end comes by too quickly.

This of course is due to limited time and my long training with the flash fiction, which I have to bring to an end super fast when I run out of time (usually <90 mins). I had an entire segment planned with the volcano, with the protagonist meeting people there which help him sail to great heights using the volcano updrafts, followed by an air battle followed by him meeting the captain and the crew again — but all that kinda got binned because I really had to finish this. As with some of my other recent texts, because it’s part of the Creative Writing course of the IDW.

All in all, I think this story went surprisingly well, given the limited time and it being the first time I attempt something in this length. I may do more things like this in the future.

But for now, I’ll probably go back to Blender and video effects for a bit. And I need to redesign my website, too. See you in a few weeks, or a few months!

Oh, before I forget: Comments are open on this post. I typically keep them closed because I’ve gotten nothing but bots so far here, but, you know, maybe some of you would like to share their praise and criticism here. Go ahead, but note that I will keep your data with me if you do comment.

Original article

@leo@wattenberg.dk

10. The End — Beyond the Edge of the World

Lily was excellent at flying. Better than me, at least. She said it was because I taught her well, but also because she had a bit of time to go through the theory before actually starting. We flew almost sideways over her home, her dad waving at us, before finally ascending towards Valand. As we ascended, I noticed my breath getting shorter.

— Is the air always so thin up here?, Lily asked.
— I had never noticed it before. Either it’s better up the mountain, or you’ll get used to it.
— If you say so…

I was beginning to become antsy. Not much longer, and I’d be home again. We now were at the height of Valand. I warned Lily that there are winds coming from below towards the edge, and just as I said that, we were lifted upwards, just like it was when I started. Lily quickly nosed down, and I caught a glimpse of the edge. The steam boat still was there, so the Captain still hadn’t given up his search. I decided to keep quiet, I wanted to go straight back home, instead of getting scolded by him.

— That’s my city, I cried and pointed towards it in the distance. It was remarkably clear today.
— It’s huge!
— It’s smaller than I thought! It feels bigger when you’re actually inside it!
— Where do I land?
— Wherever there’s a road and few enough people around.

I realized too late that Lily was headed straight to the pompous palace road. Sure, it was mostly empty, but the guards were probably not too happy about having to duck under our wings, and unhappy guards aren’t something you want against you. We finally came to a stop and Lily turned off the engine.

— Hey Dave, I greeted one of the guards storming towards us.
— What in the..? You’re back so quickly? What happened to the crew?

I told the story, first to the guards, then to the king, then to my parents and grandpa. The king was delighted to learn that not only did we find a way beyond the edge, but also found a convenient method to trade with it. My entire family henceforth would be part of nobility, though Lily and me weren’t allowed to live a lazy life just yet - we first had to build a bunch flying machines. Lily in particular would later fly the king to visits of the various lower kingdoms, always making sure to stay low when passing her home village.

As for me, I became an inventor. Always making new things to improve efficiency of processes, because even though we had a whole new world to exploit, resource exhaustion still was a problem, especially now that our fuel was made out of plants that otherwise would become food.

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@leo@wattenberg.dk

9. The lowest Point — Beyond the Edge of the World

The way back down was more troublesome than the way here. If I had been a bit disappointed in my horse being slow, it still was faster than limping old me. I spotted the horse on the plain below. It had stopped running, but still was far away. I carried on downwards. This horse was the ticket back, and if I couldn’t reach it, I might as well throw myself into the fires.

It turned night, but this time, the moon wouldn’t help me. The mountain blocked all light coming from it. I laid down to sleep, finding a dark horse at night wasn’t really feasible anyway. I dreamt of horses, of home, of Lily, only to be woken up by the rumblings of the mountain before the dreams had a chance to turn nice. The morning after wasn’t much neither either: I had been sleeping on top of a sand dune overlooking the plain, but the horse had moved on during the night. The sun hadn’t started scorching yet, but it wouldn’t take much before it would.

I didn’t move on. It was pointless. The foot was blistering all around, I was just able to resist the pain yesterday, but not today, not without hope. I looked to my home. High up, beautiful waterfalls surrounding it, and far, far away. I wondered what happened to the crew. Had the Captain continued the search for stairs? Had he reported back that I found the way, and now was missing? Grandpa maybe was feeling guilty for sending me into this danger, into my death.

After everything had been thought through, after the tears had dried, I still was on top of the sand dune with no hope left and unable to move on. I stared into the sky. Not even vultures were waiting for me. Well, maybe one, but it still was far away and hadn’t spotted me. Or had it? It was coming roughly into my direction at least.


As the mountain shut up with it rumbling for a bit, I heard a familiar noise. The noise of an engine driving a propeller. I jumped up and waved, doing my best to get its attention, but it just passed me, going further to the mountain. I was disappointed, but curious: Who was flying it? And why was it flying again in the first place? The flying machine turned around, it was looking for someone. I raised my knife, trying to get a reflection towards it. The flying person saw me, rolled back and forth as to wave at me, and landed the machine down on the plain. I hopped down, trying to not let the burnt foot touch anything. The person from the flying machine came sprinting towards me.

— There you are!
— Lily!
— Are you alright?
— Apart from the foot and the thirst, yeah, I guess.
— I can help with the thirst, Lily said and gave me a bottle which I finished in record pace.
— Thank you! What would I have done without you?
— I’d rather not imagine. Come, let’s go into the machine.

Lily helped me get into the flying machine and sat down in front of me. The bench was designed for one person only, but she was just small enough to fit in between, and still have a good grasp of the controls. Before Lily took off, I asked her how she got it flying again.

— Oh, we were looking into the wrong direction all this time. You can just take moonshine and mix it with a bit of oil and it works just fine!
— Moonshine? And I go all this way just to see some hot rock…
— Sorry. I only got to talk to a merchant after you were gone.
— I don’t blame you.
— I know, it’s just… I was so worried about you! It feels like I sent you to your death!
— It’s alright, it’s alright… You rescued me. You’re the hero now. Will you bring me back home?
— Home? You mean, to the peak of the holy mountain?
— Exactly there. To Valand.
— Dad is waiting back in Aucrary. I wouldn’t want him to worry I got lost in here.
— We can do a flyover. He’ll understand if he sees us.
— Alright.

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@leo@wattenberg.dk

8. Scarland — Beyond the Edge of the World

I rode until the night and then some more. The goal was clear: Scarland, before the guards at the border had gotten the news of who I was. Villages flew past, and the full moon dimly lit the way. I eventually reached the ruins, the sound of hooves on dirt changed to hooves on stone. I slowed down.

— Halt! Who’s there?, a guard yelled.
— A traveller, headed to the scarred lands.
— You mean Gon?
— If that’s the place of this godforsaken place ahead, so be it.
— Business or pleasure?
— Sort of business, I suppose. I’m looking for a liquid that can burn, and I had hoped for the fiery mountains in there to help with it.
— I see, but you don’t seem well equipped to go to a desert like it.
— It’s all I have. I’m no wealthy merchant, I’m just a regular guy, desperate enough to try to invent a thing before becoming part of the poor.
— Do you have a water storage?
— No. I had hoped I wouldn’t need one if I travelled at night.
— You’re a crazy son of a bitch, just enough to have my sympathy. Here, take my waterskin. It might just help you on your crazy endeavour.

And it did. I rode onwards, until sunrise, until the heat came. Ralph had warned me that it’d be unlike anything I ever felt, but he was wrong. It felt exactly as standing between two steel melting ovens.
Ovens, which stretched into every direction.

The horse’s movements slowed down as the heat started to rise. I couldn’t be upset at the poor thing, I wouldn’t want to carry anything around in this heat either. But we had a goal to reach, the fiery mountain that was straight ahead. The scarred landscape we had travelled through in the night had changed again, the sand had given way to black rocks. But the peak still was far away.

As it turned evening, the horse suddenly refused to move on. It seemed to feel that this was the end. I drank the last bit of water I had and unmounted. The heat of the sun gave way to the heat of the ground. I stepped forwards and jumped backwards, causing the horse to run away in horror. My foot was on fire. I quickly removed my boot, maybe the foot would survive though it, and looked around. What I thought to be yet more black rocks turned out to be the crust of a burning liquid. I had reached my goal, except that I was following the wrong goal all along. This liquid was viscous, it clung like cheese on the remnants of my boot, and as it cooled down, it stopped being a liquid and became as sturdy as the black rocks around me.

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@leo@wattenberg.dk

7. The City — Beyond the Edge of the World

The city was quite a bit different to my home town. For one, it was much smaller. I think we had villages the size of this city in Valand. However, it tried its best to hide its size: A large wall was dividing up the outer and inner city, with the inner city being a dense mess of narrow, winding streets separated by tall, narrow houses which were built as closely to another as possible, sometimes joining above head height anyway. The inner city had certain quarters in which the poor lived and certain quarters where the rich lived, and they clearly were separated, but as far as I could tell, the actual living quality in both areas was roughly the same. Though of course, it is nicer to live this closely together with other people if you have enough to eat and so much to drink that you don’t need to care whether others can still hear you.

The outer city meanwhile was much less dense. The houses were much bigger, yet much simpler, and they each had their own little gardens and sometimes animals. I asked the librarian why the rich people were living so crammed up in the city centre, and they revealed that in this land, entire kingdoms form criminal bands to steal stuff from the neighbouring kingdoms, and that the walls were there for protection (and not, as I first had assumed, to build a magnificent roof over the inner city). This entire process, which they called war, would frequently get reversed with this kingdom moving out and pillaging the other. During these wars, much of the outer city got destroyed and many people died, and some parts of the other kingdom were being annexed and would belong to this kingdom in the future.

The librarian had a difficult time explaining to me why all this was necessary, because if I was to go around at home destroying the tools of one particular village, they’d lose a lot of efficiency and were mostly busy feeding themselves, rather than being able to send a lot back to us. The librarian meanwhile had a difficult time understanding why no village or group of villages had started stealing tools to get an advantage over their competitors. Overall, it was in this city where for the first time, I had talked to people where I just fundamentally couldn’t understand the reasoning of them, and they couldn’t understand mine.

As it turned evening, I had neither found someone who sold the fuel I was looking for, nor a place to sleep over the night. To make it worse, it started to rain. I asked at the taverns and really anything if I could sleep there, but none would make an exception for me, they all wanted money. Money I did not have. I finally ended up in an archway between two houses, but I had barely laid down when a guard came and threw me outside the city gates. Darkness joined the wetness and coldness for a magnificent mix of unpleasantness.

I searched around and finally found my way into a stable of some description. I laid down to sleep and hoped I’d be up before the owner came.

As it was beginning to dawn, I was being eaten by something. Rough tongues licked my face and claws were climbing up my back. I quickly got up, a move that was widely regarded as unnecessary among the local cat community. They started meowing at once. I immediately tried to leave the stable, but didn’t get far before a voice called me out.

— So you’re the lad who slept with my cats tonight?, it said. I turned around. The voice belonged to a boy who made his best attempt at sounding adult and condescending.
— I, uhm… Yes. I couldn’t find a place to sleep, and didn’t want to sleep out in the rain.
— The cats don’t like to sleep in the rain either. And you were stealing valuable space from them!
— I… have provided them with additional warmth and softness, I protested.
— Did ya now? Alright, I shall let you off with a warning this time. But you won’t get off this easily next time!
— Yes. Thank you.

The boy shooed me away, his self-confidence inflated having just won an argument with an adult. I let him be, I was just happy that I hadn’t gotten into trouble over anything in this city. Yet, anyway.

Lily was one of the first merchants to come to the city. She was eager to see me and even had a bit of extra food for me. I told her I hadn’t found any useful source of fuel, and planned to continue asking around for some.

I had barely was noon when guards came in. They were clad in long, red robes and demanded anyone from Aucrary to identify themselves. I turned away and felt I wasn’t technically wrong to do so, but a strong pair of hands turned me back around and a second pair of hands carrying a sword reminded me that it probably was best to talk to the guards to which these hands belonged.

— Tell me, where do you come from?
— I’m from Valand.
— Have you heard of Valand before?, the guard asked his fellow compatriot.
— I have not heard of this place. I think he’s making it up.
— I’m not making it up! It’s a long way in that direction!
— And what are you doing here?
— I’m looking for a special type of water that burns.
— Bold! You’re a spy from the enemy and bluntly say you’re here to commit heresy. You are hereby arrested!

Based on my previous experience with heresy, I figured this would result in death. I had to find a way out of this. The entire market looked at us, much to the pleasure of a thief who took his sweet time stealing food and potions. I called out the thief, and the onlookers turned around, as did the guard clearing the way in front of me. I hoped that the one behind me did the same and kicked him in the noodle, followed by a shove to the side. Thinking quickly, I ran towards the thief, who himself did his best to escape. Someone in the crowd tried to stop me, but wrangling with machines gives you a certain bit of strength, enough to bulldoze the poor guy out of my path. People ran after me. I shouted “he ran this way”, pointing in a side alley, hoping people would care more about catching a thief stealing from them directly than the more abstract threat of an enemy spy.

And maybe they did. As I ran out of the city, only two or three dedicated folks were behind me. I turned a corner and waited, I wouldn’t be able to outrun a good runner, but maybe I was able to outfight a bunch of people who maybe were more exhausted than me.

— Here you are, cornered like a rat in a trap, the first person to turn the corner said. He was a hulking beast of muscle, and the success probability of my plan decreased sharply. — I’m gonna tare you a second asshole before I’m done with you!
— I’m not an enemy! I just want to get back home!
— Back home to spill all the secrets you have collected here. Of course I should let you go!
— Leave him!, a woman said. It was Lily. — He’s no spy, he came down flying from the holy mountain! I saw it myself!
— Are you his lover or what?
— Rudy! What she says is true, Ralph said. — I have his flying machine in my shop.

If someone had been sitting in the stable, they would have heard some storytelling, plans being forged and goodbyes being said. If there had been someone watching through the slits in the stable, they would’ve seen a man and a woman falling into each others arms and crying. If someone had been in the stable, they would have seen these people entering, stealing a horse and putting twice its value in gold down. But nobody was in the stable, and this act by us four conspirators in broad daylight went by unnoticed by anyone.

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@leo@wattenberg.dk

6. A Dark Hour — Beyond the Edge of the World

In my new campsite, it was just like in the Valandian forests, with trees rustling in the wind and a campfire crackling away. However, unlike the forest at home, this one was dead. There were no fireflies lighting up for me. There was no squirrel or bird keeping my company. There was no grandpa looking after me. And there was no buffer forest of quickly growing spruces, instead, half a mile of stumps divided the last village field from the forest. Just like the forest, I was dead inside. I had nowhere to go, no hope to get back, and not enough energy to even cry about it. I laid down and tried to sleep, but the ground here wasn’t mossy, it was full of small, dead and dry branches. Branches that snapped whenever I moved around, and continued to snap rhythmically after I stopped moving.

— Hey, said Lily, — are you still awake?
— Yes, I replied as I got up again. — What are you doing here?
— I don’t know. I guess I wanted to talk.
— About what?
— You. The machine. The village. The world.
— I just don’t know where to go now, what to do.
— Where would you like to go now?
— Home, naturally.
— We could try climbing up
— It would be long and difficult and pointless. Valand is surrounded by water, and nobody has really reached the edge before us.
— Us?

I told her about my crew, the captain, and the things we had lived through together in the brief time we had known each other. I told her about the view I had from up there, how the land she was living on seemed to survive only on this one stream, and that around it, there only was dead and cracked earth and fiery mountains.

— Fiery mountains? Are they made out of the same stuff you had in your machine?
— I wish I knew. If it was, I’d only need to go there, fetch some of it and come back. Well, “only”. There probably are plenty of opportunities to die on the way there, and I can’t really return to get the fuel into the machine.
— We could meet somewhere outside the village. Here, for example.
— I don’t think that’s a good idea. People would think you’re possessed by a demon eventually, coming to this one place for no reason. Is there somewhere outside the village you go regularly?
— Yes, the market in the city! Every wednesday, I sell dad’s things there.
— Great! And maybe someone is just selling the fuel on this market, so it should be the first place I go. When are you there next time?
— Well, today is monday, so in just two days.
— Fantastic, I’ll head towards the city tomorrow and then see you there on wednesday.
— Yeah…

Lily suddenly wasn’t nearly as enthusiastic as she had been when she came.

— What is it?, I asked.
— My parents will get mad if I don’t return soon. See you on wednesday!

And off she went.

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@leo@wattenberg.dk

5. Friends and Foes — Beyond the Edge of the World

My stay in the village went surprisingly well. The smith was nice enough to take in my machine, he maybe couldn’t repair it himself, but if someone had the tools necessary, it’d be him. It was however also noticeable that a lot of the niceness from the villagers didn’t come from the bottom of their heart, but rather always with an unspoken wish for something to happen in return. I tried to explain how our lives went up there, that I had been working in a factory and that a lot of people went jobless thanks to the industrialization, but all they heard was that we made ourselves an easy life. I wanted to leave as soon as possible, and the flying machine was my only ticket back home.

Thankfully, the smith was a good man. His name was Ralph. He inspected the wrecked legs of the machine and started working on new legs. I realized only now what the villagers meant by lazy. I had forged my fair share of custom tools in the factory, from the smallest springs to the biggest wrench, but I always had access to the never-ending power of steam. Ralph had his right arm. Well, he also had his left arm, a hammer and an anvil, but all in all, if he wanted a piece of metal to be flat, he couldn’t just plop it into a steam hammer and wait for a couple seconds or minutes, he had to work it flat, by hand, and re-heat it often.

Because of this, I still was in the village, which was called Aucrary, a week later. Ralph had apprentices and journeymen himself, so my help wasn’t needed all too often, and in the evening, after doing some good deeds for other people, I mostly was trying to figure out how the flying machine actually worked. Ralph’s daughter, Lily, found this machine just as interesting as me, and luckily for me, who was able to get a crude drawing down every now and again, she was able to make some brilliant drawings of the things we inspected. Without her drawings, I would never have dared to disassemble the engine.

Ralph checked in every now and again, glad that we were making progress and possibly even more glad that his daughter was creating a copy of the machine.

One last problem remained though. Power. We quickly identified the location of the fuel tank, as there are only ever are two different stinking and nasty looking liquids that you’d take with you voluntarily. One is oil, to keep everything operating smoothly. One is fuel, and the liquid coal this machine was using made me glad that our coal would only stink after it was burned. We experimented a bit with it, and it turned out, it really liked to burn. Like, really liked it. To the point where you could pour it over a candle, and it would not only catch fire, but also burn so quickly that the fire was travelling up the stream, leaving you with a cup in your hand that a second ago was just stinking water, and now was a raging inferno. Naturally, you’d try to get rid of this cup as fast as you could, and so I did. I dropped the cup and jumped back, Lily did likewise, as did Ralph’s chickens. The burning stream made its way towards a nearby puddle, and instead of drowning out, it floated on top of the water.

If before the villagers had thought of me as some sort of semi-useless person helping them for semi-bothersome tasks, they now had seen me throwing around liquid fire.

— He’s the saviour, said one of them.
— No, I’m not! I just wanted to try some experiments with this liquid coal, I replied
— He can make coal to a liquid, said another.
— Can you turn lead to gold?, a third.
— Please, the tax collectors are bound to come any day now! Please give turn just one bit of gold so everyone of us will survive the winter.
— This spoon! Turn it into silver!

On and on the discussion went. The more I tried to explain that I wasn’t a god, the more angry the villagers became.

— He’s not a god! He’s a demon!, someone finally shouted. This was a sound explanation why I wouldn’t help them.
— I’m neither god nor demon! I’m just a regular human, I can’t help you more than you can help yourselves!
— To prove you’re not a demon, you’ll need to pass the trial of cleansing!
— The what now?
— You’ll have to dive across the lake without surfacing once, the man explained, — there hasn’t been anyone who ever passed it.
— It’s not a trial then, it’s just a death sentence!
— If you’re a demon, yes, but not if you’re a man!
— So why haven’t you completed it?
— I’m not a demon! I don’t need to do the trial!
— But I’m no demon either!

With demons, it’s always best to not take any risk. So the villagers ended up sending the one who was refusing to do the trial to the trial as well, though now careful to not argue about it anymore so they wouldn’t have to do it themselves. It now just was a fact that the two of us had to do the trial.

A few hours later, we arrived at the lake. It looked way bigger down here than it had looked from above, and it most definitely was impossible to swim across it in one go. Lily had hurried me to arrive way before the others and now was walking towards the shore.

— See these?, she asked
— It’s reed, isn’t it?
— We call them thatch. Look what you can do with them.

Lily cut one off, put one end into the water, the other into her mouth, aimed towards me, and squirted the contents at me.

— Hey!
Lily giggled. — I find it most fun to use this way, but they also work the other way. Letting you breathe under water.
— Man, that’s cheating this competition, is it not?
— It says get across without surfacing, and you’re not surfacing. Sounds fair game to me.
— If you say so.

Horses could be heard.

— I’ll make my way to the other side and wait for you there.
— Alright, bye then!

Shortly afterwards, I was waist-deep in the water, my opponent to my side. The smith, who also acted as head of the village, read out our charges and the rules of the trial. And indeed, not once did the word “straw” or “breathing device” fall.

And off we went. I lost my opponent quickly in the murky water and decided to turn right to basically walk underwater and keep near the shore as I wasn’t a good swimmer. The straw was working wonders, it certainly was easier to breathe through it than it sometimes was in the factory. I was roughly halfway over, judging by the sun’s position, when the water suddenly became cold and the shore made a turn. Of course, the river. I decided to swim on my back, careful to not actually surface, directly towards where I thought the goal to be.

Then, suddenly, something yanked away my straw. Was it a fish? Was it a bird? Was it my opponent? I didn’t know, but I did know that I now actually had to manage my breath. While I wasn’t a good swimmer, I had been good at sinking like a rock and harvesting mussels. As little kid, that is. Now, I could barely remember the techniques I used back then, so I just tried to stay calm and hope for the best.

The longer the dive went on, the faster my movements became. The goal couldn’t be this far away anymore! My lung was burning, my arms and legs were cramping up, until finally, I became relaxed again. So relaxed that I took a deep breath which filled my lungs with water. I looked at the sun, why wasn’t it over yet? The sun, instead of answering, disappeared and a shadow fell on me, grabbed me, and pulled me out.

When I woke up, I was laying on a rocky beach. The villagers surrounded me, but weren’t looking at me. Instead, they were discussing something.

— I say, let ’em drown in a puddle if they are too weak!
— No! He clearly made it over, it started waist-deep and ended waist-deep. Pulling him out was within the rules.
— The rules, the rules! Who came up with these rules anyway?
— I don’t know. It’s an ancient tradition that…
— It’s bollocks, that’s what it is. Demons! It’s impossible for a human to hold their breath for this long, it must be a demon who makes it!
— And a half demon who almost makes it!
— He’s no half-demon, he’s got no tail!
— Maybe he is an evil god?
— Do we have a trial for evil gods?
— No.
— How would we know he’s an evil god then?
— Let him dive across the lake and back!
— Yes! No god would be able to do that!
— No human would be able to do it either, it’s a shit trial, I finally interjected.
— Oh, you’re awake, Ralph said calmly and the discussion died. — We’re unsure what to do about you. You did master the trial at least halfway, so we won’t hang you. But you also didn’t master it fully, so you can’t stay either.
— So what do you think should happen to me?
— I think…, Ralph waited for an uncomfortably long time. — I think you should be banished.

A brief silence. Followed by unison agreeing mumbling. It wasn’t as fun as slaying a demon, but at least the problem was gone.

— Can I go back and take my machine with me?, I asked.
— No, you’re banished. You mustn’t enter Aucrary.

And just like that, all my hopes and dreams had died.

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@leo@wattenberg.dk

4. The Way Down — Beyond the Edge of the World

We had looked around for days now. There were no stairs, other than in people’s basements, one of which had such a lovely view outside and was just the right size that we had declared it as our base. We had been in every house at least a dozen times now, and it still didn’t look like the people that lived here ever had wanted to go down. The farm boys in particular had bugged the captain now so often that they didn’t think there was anything to find here that the captain got mad and threatened them with throwing them down the cliff if they asked one more time. Because of this, I kept my mouth shut and went out to check something out I had spotted earlier: A machine.

It, too had been covered in roof tiles, with the the house it had been in being so close to the edge, one of the walls had fallen down. And it was this pattern that I thought would let any search for stairs end unsuccessfully: This city used to be on ground level on both sides, that’s why the way was leading to nothingness, that’s why the basements had a view, that’s why this wall was missing. So really, me finding a machine that could maybe lower our world back to the rest of it was way more useful. The machine had a bunch of levers and buttons, every one of which had been helpfully but oh so unhelpfully labelled in foreign squiggles, and stretched on to the sides for no reason. It really was mostly a tube with the machine in it, and then large metal sheets on the side of it, a tiny part of was able to flap around. But like tail-wagging doesn’t propel a dog, these flaps had very little chance of propelling…

— What are you doing?, the captain asked.
— Uuh, I found this machine, and…
— Does it look like stairs to you?
— No, but…
— Then get out of it and look for stairs again.
— … Aye captain.

I cleared more of the rubble and threw it over the edge until most of the floor, and most importantly, the area around the machine was rubble-free. I now could see it’s full shape, and indeed, it had wheels, so it was supposed to move. At the front, judging by the seat’s position anyway, there was a socket something should be screwed in. After searching around some more, during which time the captain thankfully checked back in and approvingly nodded when he saw me searching for definitely the stairs, I found something that looked like it’d fit there. A tiny windmill, with 3 instead of 4 blades for some reason, made out of an material that wasn’t quite wood but not quite metal either. I screwed it in and turned it, and the machine sprang to life. And how quickly it did! It didn’t lose any time to warm up the water to make steam, it didn’t even seem to heat up. All it did was exhaust a tiny smoke trail, which did stink, but was decidedly less sooty than any machines I had ever worked with. I got into the seat, maybe some of these buttons would now do something. Alerted by the noise, the rest of the crew came by.

— What is happening?, the captain asked.
— As I said earlier, I found this machine. I think it may have something to do with how to get down there.
— If this was a mechanical bird, I’d believe it could! But it doesn’t look like it can flap its wings!

I pushed the big lever in the middle. The windmill started to rotate faster, blowing a lot of air into my face. Some of the buttons lit up, some remained dark. Strange. One button was blinking yellow, demanding my attention. I pressed it just as the captain said “that’s a wind machine you have there, come down again”, and suddenly the machine jumped forwards. Before I realized what had happened, the wind from below the edge caught the wings and lifted the machine and me up, and away I was.

The wind blew so hard and so cold in my face that I sank into my seat for cover. Now I had rescued the astronomer only to jump down myself, and no net would save me. I turned around and saw my crew for another moment before another cloud coming from below covered them up. Astonishingly, I wasn’t falling straight down like I had thought previously, instead I was gently curving back to the cliff where I started from. Just a bit lower. Which, as I now realized, was a problem, because I was quite fast on this thing and did not want to experience any crashing into walls. I turned the steering wheel that was broken on top and bottom. And hooray, it now turned the other way. But now I was definitely steeply flying downwards.

The bad news, it was a long drop downwards and I was steadily accelerating and couldn’t really see. The good news, it was a long drop downwards, so it gave me plenty of time to figure out how to fall down slower. I first tried pulling back the stick that put the windmill in motion. The machine now was quieter, but it didn’t really help my fall. Then I tried pushing the pedals in the bottom. It did help in that it steered me sideways, so now I was parallel to the cliff, but I also was sideways, which caused me to almost fall out. I pushed on the broken steering wheel to secure myself, and strangely enough, it caused the machine to pull away from the cliff, and also made it go more straight.

Over the following minutes, I learned to control the thing and even became somewhat confident, as the machine suddenly went quiet. I was still in the air, but the windmill stopped turning. I decided to head towards the fields of the big city in Greenland, if there was any hope of landing without hitting a wall or tree, it would be there, and in the meantime looked for the engine hatch to see if I could fix anything before landing. The only hatch I could find revealed a pair of goggles. Fantastic, I thought, I could’ve used those much, much earlier. My sore eyes agreed.

I flew over the fields trying to find a good spot to land as I didn’t want to ruin anyone’s harvest. People stared at me in amazement, or so I hoped anyway, as I soared just a few dozen feet over their heads, gradually reducing speed while keeping flight level. I pitched up higher and higher and just as I was about to pitch forwards again to land on a fence-free piece of road, the flying machine decided to remove the flying bit from its name and smashed onto the ground.

I was stunned, but intact. Then I climbed out of the seat to observe the damage. The wheels and legs of the machine were badly damaged, but the rest seemed somewhat fine. And the windmill bit - which really should be called propeller, as it quite apparently was the thing making the flying machine go forwards - still wasn’t working. I tried spinning it again, but alas. Couldn’t have luck with it every time.

A stampede was coming my way. Horse rider, ox rider and foot folk came running by to see me and my machine. They obviously hadn’t seen one before, but then, I hadn’t either. They looked at me, but nobody seemed to want to speak the first word.

— Moin moin, I said to the crowd.
— Moin, they said back, apparently relieved. I was thankful that we had at least some common ground to go by.
— So, uh.. Where’s the next tavern? I’d like to stay over the night.
— We have a spare bed, said a woman in the back. She was speaking strangely, stressing syllables the wrong way round, pronouncing silent letters and swallowing letters that ought to be spoken. — You can stay with us.
— Thank you. Can you help me bring my flying machine to this place?
— Yes, of course, said the crowd.

On our way to the tavern, I got bombarded by questions. I tried answering all of them to the best of my ability, but it seemed to take no end. Nobody had heard of the Kingdom of Valand before, and as I pointed out it was up the big mountain, whispers started.

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@leo@wattenberg.dk

3. The Edge — Beyond the Edge of the World

A few months later I was again working on a machine. I made sure it went round and round, because the entire kingdom was depending on me. Well, not quite. The kingdom itself was now depending on Johso, but the kingdoms goals were depending on this ship, the first steam-powered ship that ever had been built, and I was managing its engine. The king had agreed to my plan remarkably quickly, as if he just had been waiting for someone with any sort of plan that went further than desperation.

The rest of the ships crew were a very mixed bag. Some were indeed former farm workers that had been unemployed because of my machines. An astronomer was tasked with steering the ship. Most astoundingly, the captain was a fisherman who had sailed together with my granddad all those years ago. And while one farm worker looked like a coal miner and the astronomer like a farm worker, the captain looked like a captain had to look like: White beard, pipe, dark blue sailors cap, wrinkled face — yet always relaxed.

We had been sailing for just over 3 days when the captain screamed “MACHINE HALT”, followed by “ALL HANDS ON DECK”. I was last to come up, and almost fell back down the stair when I saw another ship in the distance. The captain knew the ship.

— Those are the remnants of my ship you can see there. You can see the fog starting closely behind it. We’re almost there.
— But didn’t you say the edge was weeks of sailing away?
— Of sailing against the wind, yes. We have the luxury of not having to care about the wind this time, we plowed right through it. We need to be careful now. Everyone with good eyes, go to the bow. Look for stones and anything flat. I want the machine on the lowest possible power. If we crash, I want people in the lower parts of the ship immediately to fix leaks. If there is a current sucking us beyond the edge, I want full power backwards. Be prepared. Understood?
— Aye, aye, Captain!

The machine now was so slow that I could have added power simply by pushing the paddling wheels. It was now more of a cat, hissing with steam than the roaring monster it had been before. We slowly approached the edge, or at least I hope we did, as I couldn’t see. Another “MACHINE HALT”. We had reached the wreck. The captain went on board and returned with a book. He didn’t say what it was, only wanted to move on, even slower than before. This time, I actually had to help the crank turn.

Suddenly, a tumult occurred on deck. I wasn’t sure what it was, but the command was “half power backwards”, followed by another “slow forwards”. As it turned out later, the crew had spotted regular pillars and archways on the sea floor. Pillars, that surely had ripped through the old wooden ship like a lance into a heart. But we were prepared, our steam ship was extra flat and also made of steel.

After another “MACHINE HALT”, we finally were as close to the edge as we could comfortably be. We tied the ship to the pillars and waded through the chest-deep water on the other side of the pillars. With every step I took, it became clearer: This was a path. It hadn’t always been flooded here. Remnants of houses appeared. Some of them full with amphorae, some empty, one was overflowing with plants which had survived all odds and were finally able to flourish after the roof had collapsed. Some of its offspring tried to repeat its success on neighbouring buildings, but if they managed to not get washed into the water by rainfall, they’d quickly die on the nutrient-free concrete.

The path now was up high enough to be dry, and the fog was getting thicker. A statue of someone appeared in the middle of the road. There was a helpful plate on the statue’s base, but it was unhelpfully written in foreign squiggles. With enough time, it might have been possible to decipher it, maybe get a copy to the intelligent archivists back home, but it’d probably just be just some king, his name, and a praise that he’d built this city or something.

We carried on. The astronomer shrieked as he stepped on a skeleton of a rat. If even those bastards didn’t make it, nobody else would be here. The fog was getting uncomfortably cold, the dankness penetrating our clothes. Just as the wind was picking back up, somehow from below, wheezing through the cracks of the ground, the astronomer shrieked again, but was nowhere to be seen. Suddenly, the fog revealed its true form, rising to the sky and becoming a cloud. The path had found its end, and the astronomer had gone beyond it.

If I had been brave, I could have ran towards the edge and watch him fall down to his death. If I had been brave, I could have enjoyed the view that opened up for us. But I was not brave, and found myself assuming a backwards crab position, scurrying back to the statue. Nobody was brave. Nobody but the captain.

The captain ran towards the edge, shouted something, and then hurried back to a house we passed earlier where he had seen a net in. “Come with me”, he cried on the way back to the edge, “the astronomer is still there!” And indeed, he was. The net somehow had survived the ages. It was made out of a weird green fabric and looked way too weak to catch anything but the smallest of fish. But it was this net that had to hold the astronomer, with all his hopes and dreams. We lowered the net to him. The astronomer caught on to it and started to climb up it, step by step. The captain lost hold of his part of the net, and the jolt sent the astronomer flying down, down but not away, for his foot was still stuck in the net. He struggled to get into a more useful position, but it was hopeless. “Pull up the net!”, the captain shouted. He wasn’t the strongest anymore, but the two farmers and I were.

The three of us started to pull, but it was quickly interrupted by a “STOP”. The edges of the path would cut through the net if we did that. We should go closer to the edge. I tried, but couldn’t bring myself to get closer than one foot to it. The captain laid his hand on my shoulder. Calmly, he ordered me to go the other step, to reach just the edge. He would hold me.

And he held. The astronomer was pulled upwards, first limp like an exhausted fish which had tried and failed to escape from the net, then desperately struggling to free himself from the net once he was back on land, also quite like a fish.

Only now could I properly process where we were. Beyond the edge of the world, there was no void or fog or anything, there just was more world. Far, far down, but clearly: World. Complete with its own clouds we could look down on, mountains that wouldn’t even go halfway up to us, its own forest and meadows, and…

— It’s own cities!, cried the astronomer. One of the reasons he couldn’t climb back up earlier was the telescope he wouldn’t let go of.
— Where?, I asked.
— Where my finger is!
— Oh, yeah! I see it!

We stood like this for a while, in a respectable distance to the edge, passing around the telescope and seeing the new world for the first time. It was strangely similar to our world, but it seemed to not have nearly enough water. Apart from the stream that clearly originated from our high perch there were no rivers, and besides the lake the river formed at some point, there were no lakes either.

And indeed, as another cloud passed, it revealed a region down to the south that was scarred and scorched, where the mountains themselves were burning. Between this scarred land and the green land (which I named Scarland and Greenland, accordingly), another grey structure. Just like the ruins we were in, it, too, looked mostly broken, with one impressively big hall that even stood out to the naked eye. Well, the foundations and walls and pillars of it anyway, the roof was long gone.

Unlike our ruins however, there seemed to be life in that city. A colourful patch indicated the presence of a market, the forest-free farmlands around it indicated that it, too, had quite an impressive number living in it. But even further south, in Scarland, there clearly was a city. How it survived there, I didn’t know, but our telescope unfortunately had no mouth or ears to ask the people down there.

— Alright, kids, the captain said, — we’ve had enough of this view, and we still have a mission. We need to establish whether a trading route is possible between the lands down below and our kingdom.
— But, can’t they find out themselves?, one of the farm boys, my fireman, asked.
— No. The king already knew it’s possible to get here. We now have the technology to easily do so. The part until now was the routine, it’s the part ahead of us where you’ll need to be daring.
— So what should we do?
— Get looking. There ought to be stairs down somewhere.

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@leo@wattenberg.dk

2. Adventure Calls — Beyond the Edge of the World

On my way back home, I stumbled across a poster. It was advertising freedom and glory and riches, all you needed to do was find the edge of the world. Awesome, I thought, let me just get a rope to hang myself with, it’d have the same result, but cheaper and faster. The further I went, the more I noticed the strategy these posters had been put up with: Low, and in streets leading to the poorer districts. If you were walking home with your head hanging after being rejected from a job, you’d see them. You’d see them and die in the search of glory, just so that the king could clean up the streets from people who were no longer needed.

I arrived at home angrily. Mom, Dad, Grandpa and my brothers were waiting at the table already. We didn’t talk until we finished eating, at which point grandpa finally asked what’s wrong. I told him how the king was a lying bitch who wanted to kill his citizens, and announced I’d go to the forest to catch some bugs and calm down.

The forest was no doubt the nicest part of all of Valand. Once you got past the artificial ever-same spruce part which was there to provide fire and building wood, that is. In these deep woods, all sorts of creatures would bounce around, some weird, like the glowing bugs, some creepy, like the little tree climbing monkey with its huge eyes, and probably some dangerous, although none seemed to take interest in someone with a lantern and a campfire. If only I could come here during the day, I thought and sat down to listen to the sounds of the forest.

There was the occasional flapping of wings, and one bird was singing. I had only seen it once, but it always sang for me in the evenings. Wind was rustling through the sea of leaves, though I barely could hear it these days. Either the wind had gotten weaker, or my hearing worse. Some insects were buzzing towards my torch, though I had already collected all of them. The campfire was happily crackling away, warming not just me, but also the squirrel I had befriended over the many times I’ve been here. But there was something more. Something big, moving slowly. It walked with a strange rhythm, bum-bum-but … bum-bum-but. Did it have three legs? Maybe a bear that escaped from a trap by biting off its own leg?

— There you are, my grandpas voice said as the squirrel fled the scene.
— Grandpa! What are you doing here?
— I needed to talk to you. You know, with the edge of the world…
— Yes?
— It’s not the first time they’re sending out explorers to it.
— Oh, so generations of kings have been dickheads?
— When I was young, I was on this search. And I found the edge.
— What?
— Yes. The edge is not what you expect. It’s not the end. There is more. The king knows this, we told him. He wants to find a trade route.
— Haven’t you found one?
— Not really. We were sailing against the wind for most of it, and wrecked out ship as we came to the edge. We came back on a raft, driven by the wind.
— Did the king not reward you for finding it?
— He did. The captain became a nobleman. The mates became rich. I, the kitchen boy, got free food from the royal kitchen until I founded my own family.
— Alright. So I guess I shouldn’t be judging him this harshly.
— I think you should go on the search yourself.
— What?
— You make machines. A machine could go against the wind much easier. The boat could even be shallower as it’d need no keel.
— But I like it here!
— Do you?
— Yes!
— Your job, the air in the city?
— Well, it’s not that bad, is it?
— You’ve done nothing but complain about your job for 3 years now.
— But I know how it works! No-one else can do it as well as I do! It would be irresponsible to the entire kingdom if I left it now!
— Johso is nearly done with his apprenticeship. He’ll manage.
— He fucked up a machine this night.
— Two, actually. He fixed the other one.
— And how do you know that?
— He came by this morning and told me. He felt bad for not admitting it to you.

I didn’t respond.

— How long has it been since you have found a new bug in this forest?, asked grandpa.
— Maybe two years now. Why do you ask?
— How long has it been since you’ve seen something breathtaking?
— I don’t know.
— How long has it been until you ventured out further than Ausfield?
— Why do you keep asking me these questions?
— Because when you were little, you’d get so much joy out of new things. Dad and I would take you out to the light house and the forest and the fields, and you were always happy when we took you out to the unknown. And look at you know: Always angry when coming home, disappointed that nothing new happened. I tell you, you need to get out there, to the edge, and find something new!
— But can’t I just go past Ausfield and then see something new?
— There’s nothing new on this island Past Ausfield, there is a bit over a week of travel, then you have the sea again. You can surround this entire kingdom with everyone in it in two, maybe three months.
— And there isn’t another island anywhere?
— If there was, we’d know of it by now. But we only know of the edge. If there is anyone else, it’s beyond the edge.

I went quiet again and stared into the flames. Grandpa did likewise.

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@leo@wattenberg.dk

1. I, the Mechanic — Beyond the Edge of the World

The light was gloomy, the air filled with ash and the ground was vibrating ever so slightly. And I wasn’t even halfway towards the factory yet. It was this hellscape I had to keep unbroken, our society depended on it. Now anyway, granddad would tell me stories of how difficult yet simple life was when he was a young boy. Since the machines came, a huge spike in unemployment forced the king to take action, and action he took: Machines in general may only be used with approval, and steam machines in general may only be used in the two royal manufactures, and on farmlands. This would ensure that we wouldn’t burn up all the trees we had so far, yet also ensure a level of agricultural yields that was necessary to sustain the capital city, especially now that unemployed from the entire country had come here to ask for help.

I finally arrived at the pounding heart of productivity. My apprentice already was waiting for me. He had been keeping the machines running all night and looked appropriately tired, but also scared.

— Good morning, Johso, I greeted him, — is anything wrong?
— Yes, master! Machine number five broke just after you left, I don’t know what happened!
— Did you turn it off?
— Yes, of course, immediately!
— Alright. Let’s see what may be the problem.

I went over to the machine, Johso following me by my side at first, then slowly trailing behind. The rotator, basically a hamster wheel for rocks and stuff, had left it’s usual position and gone on an adventure towards machine number 9, spilling its contents along the way. I rolled my eyes and went to the control panel to confirm my suspicion.

— Say, Johso, do you see anything wrong with these controls?
— No, master.
— There is something wrong with them which I told you on your second day.
— What is… oh no.
— Tell me what it is.
— The rotation rate was set to eleven.
— Correct. Who set it to eleven?
— … I did.
— Why did you do it?
— Because I thought the process would be faster if…
— And why did you have that thought?
— What? I don’t know, I just wanted it to be better, I guess.
— No, because you were bored on your night shift.
— Yes, master.
— What should you do now?
— Clean it up, master.
— Almost. Help me get the rotator back in place, then get some sleep. I don’t want you to sleepwalk into the fire pit at some point.

And thus, another working day began. I secretly was glad for Johso’s mistake, because now I could finally sort out some kinks in machine 5 that had annoyed me for weeks now, but which hadn’t scheduled maintenance for another half a year. When my boss, the royal something something inspector whose title I never could quite remember, came in sometime in the afternoon, he might have noticed machine five running quieter than usual, but would never have guessed anything wrong had happened. For that, he’d need to wait for the parts it manufactured to be put together, and in the months it took to get through the pile, they’d catch up to it. If not on eleven, then on ten.

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@leo@wattenberg.dk

0. Foreword — Beyond the Edge of the World

Moin!

You are about to read a little short story. It’s Fantasy with some Steampunk elements, I guess, and (without spoiling too much) is attempting to follow Vogler’s version of the Hero’s Journey. I say attempting, because I did not do one important plot point that would usually be required.

Reading Notes

Some reading notes before we get started: I’m using Danish Dialogue style. This means that dialogue is written as thus:

— Good morning, Johso, I greeted him, — is anything wrong?
— Yes, master! Machine number five broke just after you left, I don’t know what happened!
— Did you turn it off?
— Yes, of course, immediately!

The same dialogue in standard style would look like this:

“Good morning, Johso”, I greeted him, “is anything wrong?"
"Yes, master! Machine number five broke just after you left, I don’t know what happened!"
"Did you turn it off?"
"Yes, of course, immediately!
”

While the Danish style looks mighty silly with a middle dialogue tag and creates some confusion by not having a special character in front of the dialogue tag, I do think it’s somewhat easier to read as it separates explanatory blocks from dialogue blocks. Also, I tend to forget to close my "" quotation marks, but that totally isn’t the reason why I like just using the Danish style.

That out of the way, the story starts here:

Chapter 1

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@leo@wattenberg.dk

Mortred in the City

Mortred thought the city was strange the moment she came into it. There were no trees around for miles, no animals, only a few grey birds. The buildings were boxy and tall, but did not appear to have a roof. But man, were there a lot of people. Every window of every building had one, if not more, and she had to find the right person, and kill him.

The person was male, it said. More than half of the people she saw were.
The person was tall, it said. Quite a few people less were tall, but still a lot.
The person was wearing a suit, it said. Everyone was wearing a suit here.

The list went on for a bit, but each detail seemed to fit on way too many people, and even if she knew who it was, it would be way more difficult to find him than usual; usually, the location alone would be reducing the number of targets to a few dozen.

A scream was there, somewhere from below. Someone must have found the corpse, or at least half, of the important looking man who asked her to show a permission for her two swords.

She almost gave up on her hunt when something in her mind started highlighting something. Of course, the Oracle knew best who she had to kill. And of course, the target was sitting in the highest building in the highest floor. Which she had to climb up on.

Or just continue waiting, until he’d come down.

The city was strange from the moment she entered it. But the many lights in the city made her wait worthwhile.

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@leo@wattenberg.dk

A Froggy Instrument

It was a regular and warm Friday evening. The insects were doing their noises, the frogs were ribitting, the ducks were quacking, and overall, it was nice. Until I noticed a little frog instrument sitting on the wayside. The idea with these things is simple, you just rub a piece of wood onto it and it makes a noise not too unlike a frog. And with all these things making noise, I thought I may just join in with my newfound voice.

The frog instrument was loud. Like a shockwave, it sent the entire lake into silence. Then, a single ribbit. I answered, with a more careful stroke of the instrument. Suddenly, the entire lake started boiling with frogs coming towards me. I ran away, but the frogs came from all sides. I ran and ran, and just as the frog-flood was about to catch up, I finally was in my apartment and closed the door. But the worst was yet to come.

Deafening croaking from all sides. Little eyes reflecting through the windows. The frogs stacked up higher and higher, with the lowest layers of frogs turning into sludge. Soon, I’d be trapped in here for good.

Frogs started to pour in through the toilet and sinks, a window shattered, the bedroom was lost. I climbed up on the balcony, worked up my courage and jumped right in, or rather, on, the frog pile. The slippery bastards gave way, but only to some extend. I slid down the pile like a water slide, and ended up on the street, only to be covered by frogs again.

There only was time for one last prayer.

Suddenly, the croaking ended, and the frogs were gone. What had I done?

“Ah, here it is”, said Jesus. “Dad thought he’d lost it in Egypt a long time ago”.

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