Why Manga Publishing Is Dying... And Not Just In The USA.

SOURCE: Why Manga Publishing Is Dying (And How It Could Get Better)

Interesting article on why the Manga Market is collapsing - not just in the US but in Japan as well.

Skyrim: A Journal of War - Chapter Twenty One - One Hundred Hours In Solitude

From The Saga Of Matthias The Bather; Written by Sven

And so it came to pass that Matthias and Mjoll did journey to cold Solitude - the capital of Skyrim and seat of the High King in the Blue Palace. Ever champions of the people, they went there - not because of the ever-growing threat of the dragons but in the cause of thwarting the dark influence of The Thieves' Guild. And so it was that the duo sought out Gulum-Ei - an Argonian dock-worker of sordid reputation.


Mjoll: Well?
Me: He denies knowing anything but I'm sure he's lying. I think it best we follow him for a time.
Mjoll: As you will, beloved. But I find it hard to believe that the Thieves' Guild would conduct business this far from The Rift.
Me: Ah, but thieves go where the wealth is and there is much wealth to be had here.
Mjoll: That is true. But I still can't shake the feeling there is much going on here I cannot see.
Me: *muttered* Not if I can help it.
Mjoll: What's that, dearest?
Me: Uh... I said "If only we could help it... get better?"
Mjoll: Oh, we can, my love. We can.





SOMETIME LATER...

Me: There! He ducked into that warehouse! We'll have to go in after him!
Mjoll: I must say this is exciting! My father used to take me hunting with him all over Tamriel...
Me: *working with lockpicks* Quiet, dearest. There may be guards inside who are protecting the honest merchant's goods. And they're not likely to look kindly on us coming in here, even if we're tracking a thief.
Mjoll: Ah. Good point, beloved. I shall follow your lead, then.





Me: Actually, Mjoll... perhaps it might be best if you waited here -
Mjoll: You're not supposed to be in here.
Me: - what?
Mjoll: You're not supposed to be in here.
Me: What?
Mjoll: You're not supposed to be in here.
Me: Okay. Technically true. But we have that thief to track and-
Mjoll: You're not supposed to be in here.
Me: Okay. Would you please stop saying that? In fact, don't say anything because-
Guard #1: What was that?!
Me: Oh, Oblivion!
Mjoll: Grrrrrrrrr!
Me: Double Oblivion!
Guard #2: Thought I heard something...
Me: Thrice damned double dog Oblivion!


ONE VERY BLOODY MINUTE LATER...

Me: Okay, Mjoll? Mead Lips? Could you explain to me why you just killed two innocent dock guards?
Mjoll: You're not supposed to be in here.
Me: Fine. We'll just step outside and talk about it...
Mjoll: You're not supposed to be in here.
Me: Grrrrrrrrr!


ONE STROLL OUTSIDE LATER...

Me: Look, Mjoll. If you can't keep quiet, at least wait here for me.
Mjoll: Okay. I'll be right here.
Me: Yeah, yeah not supposed to... what?!?!
Mjoll: I said I'll be right here.
Me: ... but a minute ago, you couldn't say anything except "You're not supposed to be here"!
Mjoll: I couldn't?
Me: No!
Mjoll: Hmm... I suppose it could have been some sort of automatic reflex caused by the thought of violating the laws regarding breaking-in-and-entering.
Me: But you killed those two guys who were about to discover us! Those poor innocent... well, relatively innocent dock guards!
Mjoll: Apparently my reflex to protect my beloved is stronger.
Me: Awwwwww. You're as sweet as you are strong. But maybe you should wait out here so I can go in and deal with the thief. Watch my back so no reinforcements come in.
Mjoll: Okay!


ONE STEALTHY CRAWL THROUGH A WAREHOUSE AND A HIDDEN UNDERGROUND CAVE LAIR LATER...




Me: Knock Knock.
Gulum-Ei: Who's There?
Me: Um... that's not a joke. I was being dramatic.
Gulum-Ei: Huh. You want my advice? Stick to thieving and forget acting.
Me: You're right. The bow and arrow in my hands and the fact that I killed all your bandit accomplices on the way in are dramatic enough. Now tell me everything about the woman who hired you to start working against The Guild.
Gulum-Ei: Alright, alright. But I want you to promise me you'll tell them that I had no idea it was Karliah when she approached me!
Me: Who?
Gulum-Ei: ... you don't know? Really?
Me: No.
Gulum-Ei: Mercer didn't tell you?
Me: No. Who is Karliah?
Gulum-Ei: She was a thief. A damn good one. Used to be the old Guildmaster's partner. In every sense of the word. And then she decided to change her terms of employment.
Me: You mean she killed him?
Gulum-Ei: Yes. Plunged the guild into disarray for years until Mercer got it back under control.
Me: Any idea where to find her?
Gulum-Ei: She said that "it would all end where it first began".
Me: Huh. Now THAT is dramatic.
Gulum-Ei: Yes, I thought so.

Skyrim: A Journal of War - Chapter Twenty - A Change In Wardrobe

From The Saga Of Matthias The Bather; Written by Sven

Matthias returned home to Mjoll, with the tale of how brave Aerin had given his life to save Matthias from an assassin's arrow. Determined to avenge the companion who had saved her life and now, reportedly, the life of her husband, Mjoll swore vengeance upon The Dark Brotherhood and joined Matthias once more.

The battle which followed is already spoken of in my own song, The Bather Cleaned Up That Night, so I need not recall it here. Suffice it to say that it was as a result of this campaign that the couple gained fame as the slayers of The Dark Brotherhood and Matthias adopted the garb of their former leader as a symbol of his mastery over those who sought to master death. How the custom-fitted armor for a woman half his size was able to fit him is beyond my ken, as is the unusual armor that Mjoll adopted at that same time...






Me: There. A fine fit, don't you think?
Mjoll: Oh, the fit is fine, beloved... it's just...
Me: What is it, dearest?
Mjoll: It's just, when you said that you had found a rare set of Ancient Nord Warrior Women's armor... I was expecting something more...
Me: Ancient? Heavy?
Mjoll: Substantial, I think...
Me: I think you look fearsome and powerful.
Mjoll: It's just... not that I don't trust you, beloved. But if I didn't know any better, I'd swear this armor was just two small bits of bear hide, hastily sewn together and then strategically ripped and cut in various places. It's rather chilly...
Me: Chilly? Are you not a Nord, woman? Are your people not renowned for their ability to their ability to survive the harshest elements?
Mjoll: Well, yes...
Me: And are you not, as you've boasted many times, the hardiest and strongest of women?
Mjoll: Undoubtedly
Me: So you can easily stand any discomfort you may feel, as your ancestors did, and stand proud knowing that you are upholding their legacy.
Mjoll: I suppose so. But could we keep an eye out for a suitable cloak?
Me: Ahhh... sure. Maybe we can find one on the way to Solitude. There may be a shop selling cloaks somewhere out there on the frozen mountain pathways...

Mjoll: I love my husband... I will not strangle him... I love my husband..

Skyrim: A Journal of War - Chapter Nineteen: Cleaning House, Literally and Metaphorically

From The Saga Of Matthias The Bather; Written by Sven

With his training complete, Matthis and Mjoll did journey to Whiterun, where they had decided to make their home...




Me: Here we are, beloved!
Mjoll: Oh, it is a grand home! It will be a fine place to rest between adventures. Still, I think I will open a small shop while you are away dealing with Dragonborn business. I don't want to get bored.
Me: Well, I don't know how much chance you'll have to get bored. The Jarl would probably welcome another sword to deal with things around here. But I think that Lydia will appreciate the company. At least she will when she gets back... curious that she isn't here.
Mjoll: So we have the entire house to ourselves, eh?
Me: So it seems.
Mjoll: Just you and me... husband and wife?
Me: What... are you suggesting?
Mjoll: Come upstairs and I will show you...
Me: It's good to be the Thane!



SOMETIME LATER...

Me: Owwww, my head. Feeling woozy... vision blurry. Honey, as good as that felt I think maybe we should hold off on doing it more than five times in one night...
Astrid: I'm sure it was a wonderful evening, but the way you're feeling has less to do with the stamina of your warrior woman bride and more to do with the poison leaving your system.
Me: Huh? Who are you...?
Astrid: My name isn't important. What is important is that I know what you did to Gerlod The Kind.





Me: You know about that?!
Astrid: Half of Skyrim knows. Old hag gets butchered in her own orphanage? Things like that tend to get around.
Me: Butchered? I put an arrow in her head. That's hardly butchering!
Astrid: Oh, I'm not criticizing the death, believe me. She was a horrible person and everyone knew it. They just refused to do anything about it. Saving those orphans from an evil mistress? Good story. Makes a body feel good to hear it...
Me: I don't like where this conversation is going...
Astrid: As well you shouldn't. The thing of it is... that Aretino boy was trying to contact The Dark Brotherhood... me and my associates.
Me: I knew it!
Astrid: And while your killing was fair and just, the fact of the matter is you still stole a contract from us.
Me: Here it comes...
Astrid: We are owed a death. And we shall have a death tonight. Whether or not it is yours shall be your choice.
Me: Wait for it...
Astrid: Behind you are three people. Two of them are innocents. One of them has been contracted to die. You must use your skills to determine which is the one to die.
Me: *dead pan* No. Please. Stop. You are mad. I cannot have anything to do with the death of innocents. I want no part of this.
Astrid: You shall not leave this place until someone lies dead.
Me: You're sure that's how this has to be?
Astrid: Yes!

*THWACK THWACK THWACK*

Me: Ha! You'd think an assassin would have seen a sneak attack like that coming. Or that they'd be smart enough to take my bow away. Ah well... that's why Thieves rule and Assassins drool. And speaking of thieving, let's take a look at this fancy, faintly glowing black armor...





Victim 1: Hello? Can you take this bag off my head now?
Victim 2: Yeah! My bag smells funny!
Victim 3: I threw up in my bag!
Me: Rejoice! You are free now, my fat and greasy citizens!
Victim 2: Oh thank you! Thank you! I promise I won't tell anyone about this!
Me: What? But I want you to tell people about this. Tell any who will listen that you were saved from assassins by Matthias The Dragonborn. Thane of Whiterun. Slayer of Dragons. Beater of Ass.
Victim 1 : Whatever. Just let me out of here.
Me: No, there's no need to thank me. Rush home to your loved ones and reassure them that as long as their is ass that needs kicking, the Dragonborn is ... hey! Wait a minute! What about my loved ones? Mjoll is probably worried sick... assuming the assassins didn't kill her getting to me! By Talos' loincloth, I must hurry home!



ONE DAY LATER...

Me: Mjoll! Darling! Are you - WHAT FRESH OBLIVION IS THIS?!?!




Mjoll: Oh, dearest! I was just cooking dinner!
Me: You're cooking dinner in your underwear?
Mjoll: I didn't think you would mind. You certainly didn't object to me walking around in less last night.
Me: Yes, but... you're cooking dinner in your underwear with HIM here?
Aerin: I don't see a problem.
Mjoll: Nor do I. Aerin and I lived together for some time before I wed you. You think he has not seen me so before? Or in less when he was healing my wounds?
Me: ... yes, but.... that was then. And now we're... in OUR home.
Mjoll: Aha! So the man who saved my life is not welcome in OUR home?
Me: I never said that.
Aerin: I just came to visit and keep her company while you were gone.
Me: I've been gone less than a day! How did you get word that she was alone so quickly?
Aerin: I just happened to be in town.
Me: A likely story! You just happened to come all the way here from Riften?
Mjoll: Oh? And just where have you been all day... beloved?
Me: I was kidnapped by the leader of The Dark Brotherhood!
Mjoll: Oh really?
Me: Yes! I just barely got away with my life.
Aerin: A likely story! As if any assassin could get in here and steal you away while my Lioness was sleeping beside you.
Me: YOUR Lioness?
Mjoll: Boys, please! That's enough!
Me: Agreed. Mjoll, can we go talk outside for a moment?
Mjoll: Certainly.





Me: Mjoll, I'm trying to be understanding about your and Aerin's special bond but... what the? You didn't even put a robe on?!
Mjoll: It's the middle of the night and we're on the porch. Nobody can see us.
Belethor: Hi Matthias!
Me: Son of a... Hi Belethor.
Belethor: Is this your new bride? Niiiiiiiice. I could make you a good offer for her.
Me: Not. Now.
Belethor: I could even trade you my sister for her, if I had a sister...
Me: NOT... EVER...
Belethor: Alright, alright. Do come back...


Me: *sighs* Now, as I was saying...
Aerin: Are you done? Mjoll was supposed to be teaching me about swordplay later.
Me: ... was she?
Mjoll: Oh yes. I've tried to teach him some basics, but I keep having to correct his grip. Many is the night I've had to stand close, my arms around him... my hands on his...
Me: Yeeeeeeeeeeeees. Well, I'm afraid that won't be possible.
Aerin: Oh?
Me: Yes. You see, I came out here to ask Mjoll to come with me and deal with the rest of The Dark Brotherhood. You're welcome to stay here though, Aerin. I mean, they do know where I live. And having just killed their leader, I'm sure they're itching for revenge. But I'm sure it will be safe since only a total idiot would stay in his own home after killing the leader of The Guild of Assassins. Especially since they already know where he lives. So knowing I'm not an idiot, they probably won't come back here looking for me.
Aerin: Aha... yesssssss. But I really must be heading home to Riften. That city won't cleanse itself of evil. Especially with Mjoll gone, now.
Me: Yes, yes. Much to do, I'm sure. Safe journey and all that.
Mjoll: Yes, safe journey Aerin! Well, beloved... shall we be on our way?
Me: Ah... not just yet, dear. Why don't you wait here while I run a quick errand?
Mjoll: A quick errand? At this hour?
Me: Ah-ha-ha.... yesssss. The Drunken Huntsman - finest store for archers in town. They're also a tavern. I need to get some new arrows.
Mjoll: Well, alright beloved... but don't take too long. And don't sneak any drinks while you are there.
Me: Oh, no dear... no drinks! I'll hurry as fast as I can!


*run run run*




*sneak sneak sneak*

*THWACK! THWACK! THWACK!*

*loot loot loot*




Me: Scratch one home-wrecker. And hey - now I really DO need more arrows!

Skyrim: A Journal of War - Chapter Eighteen: Back To School.

From The Saga Of Matthias The Bather; Written by Sven
Matthias and his bride did leave Riften that very day, for while he loved Mjoll he could no longer neglect the duties of the Dragonborn. With the shield maiden at his back and her trusted companion Aerin in tow, the trio did set off for the ancient tomb Ustengrav - the resting place of the magical horn of Jurgen Windcaller...

Mjoll: Oh, Matthias - this is everything I dreamed of in a Honeymoon.
Me: Well, I'm glad you're enjoying yourself.
Mjoll: Oh, how could I not? Getting a chance to go right back into the field? Fighting undead monsters by my husband's side? And more... getting to aid you on a quest given to you by The Greybeards themselves!
Me: I do have one question, my darling.
Mjoll: Yes, dear?
Me: Did Aerin really have to tag along?
Mjoll: Why shouldn't he?
Me: Well... this IS supposed to be our time. And besides, how can I perform my... marital duties with another dude watching you all the time?
Mjoll: Oh, there will be time enough for that once the world is saved.
Me: I suppose. Hey, I think this is the final chamber before the horn...
Mjoll: Yes, it does have a certain grandeur. But wait - there appears to be a note on the stand there!
Me: What? Let me see...




Mjoll: Damn thieves! They are taunting you now, taking items that are rightful yours and trying to lure you into a trap.
Me: I ah... don't think the Thieves Guild is involved in this, beloved. They aren't in the habit of leaving notes behind to taunt the people they steal from, telling them where they can be found.
Mjoll: That's just what they want you to think!
Me: Ah, but they won't expect YOU to be coming to watch my back, will they?
Mjoll: Well, that's true...
Me: So we're off to Riverwood then!


ONE DAY LATER...




Delphine: Welcome to the Sleeping Giant Inn. Will you and the woman be needing a room?
Me: Yes, we'd like your attic room, please.
Delphine: Our attic room, eh? Well... we don't have an attic room. But you can have the one on the left. Make yourself at home.
Me: Thank you, fair innkeeper.
Mjoll: So now what do we do?
Me: We wait.

SOMETIME LATER...

Delphine: *slipping through door* So you're the Dragonborn I've been hearing so much about.
Mjoll: Back off, wench! He's my husband.
Me: Relax, dearest. I don't think she's come in to offer us a way to spice up our honeymoon.
Delphine: Indeed. But it;s not safe to talk here. We shall go to my room.
Mjoll: *growls*
Me: Down, girl. I take it you're the one responsible for the horn disappering?
Delphine: Yes, I have it here. You see, I needed to find the true Dragonborn. I think I may know where the dragons are coming from. But I need the True Dragoborn to prove that I'm right. Because only the Dragonborn can kill a dragon and absorb its' soul so that it can't come back. You have done that, haven't you?
Me: Oh yes... lots of times!
Delphine: Good. Then we shall make our way to Kynesgrove! And if you are the real Dragonborn, you should have no trouble slaying the dragon there.


ONE DAY LATER...

Delphine: A dragon! And it's resurrecting another dragon with the Thu'um!
Me: Hey, I recognize that dragon!
Delphine: You what?
Me: Never mind that now! RUN!





SOMETIME LATER...

Delphine: ... I don't believe it.
Mjoll: That's my man!
Me: NOW will you explain to me why you know all this and why you were so hell-bent on finding the Dragonborn?
Delphine: I am a member of The Blades. One of the last Blades. In times past we were the bodyguards of the emperors and dragonslayers. Now... we're not much of anything.
Me: Go on...



Delphine: I believe that the Thalmor - the Elven government - are behind the recent dragon resurrections.... somehow. I need to infiltrate their embassy to find out for sure. Now that I have you here, we can sneak in there and look for evidence.
Me: Woah! Woah! Woah! Hold on a second...
Mjoll: Indeed. My husband is far too honorable to sneak into another's home!
Me: Oh, I don't object to the sneaking in part. But I have a bunch of old men who are expecting me to take them this horn. And since they're the ones training me to be able to fight dragons AND they have the ability to make mountains collapse by saying "Boo!", I should probably go complete my training before they decide it's not worth waiting for their Chosen One and they decide to just destroy the whole sub-continent with a word.
Delphine: Indeed. Go finish your training. We can plan how to spy on the Thalmor later.


ANOTHER LONG JOURNEY LATER...



Arngeir: And so as it was written, The Dragonborn has returned to us with The Horn of Jorgen Windcaller. Come with me. It is time for us to recognize you formally as Dragonborn. Savior of Us All. Then I shall teach you the final word of the Unrelenting Force Thu'um.
Me: Is this going to involve a big, boring ceremony?
Arngeir: Oh, no, no, no. Well, a short one. More of a hazing than a ceremony, really.
Me: What?
Arengeir: Now, my brothers! Teach him what it is to shout at someone!
Me: Gah!




Arngeir: Meka Leka Hi Meka Hinei Ho?
Greybreads: MEKA LAKA HI MEKA HINEI HO!
Arngeir: Meka Leka Hi Meka Chani Ho?
Greybreads: MEKA LEKA HI MEKA CHANI HO!
Arngeir: You are now the Dovahkiin. Long live Arngeir. Now go, and never darken our towels again!