Transcript
Speaker: 11th Hour Audio presents Creature Feature of the Month.
Speaker: With your master of fronts, Owen McEwan.
Speaker: Greetings, listeners, and thank you for joining us at the 11th Hour.
Speaker: Greetings, minions, and welcome to 2024.
Speaker: For our Creature Feature this month, we're headed out to sea.
Speaker: Eeler's Choice is a maritime horror fantasy podcast set in Eskimo, a small coastal town whose economy has lived and died on the hunting of the great eels for generations.
Speaker: As demand for product has increased, so have the catches.
Speaker: But even the generosity of the sea has its limits, and all debts must come due.
Speaker: Slop hauler, storm caller, beacon keeper, or eel-er?
Speaker: Ran has some decisions to make, but things get complicated when you're being watched by something large and angry and far away.
Speaker: Something with an anger that reflects yours, but older and deeper.
Speaker: Ealer's Choice was created by Lou Sutcliffe and Daisy McNamara.
Speaker: They weave a tale that drags the listener ashore like a catch from the angry sea.
Speaker: Travel with them to Esmeth and sing a shanty for us at the 11th hour.
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Speaker: Hi, I'm Daisy McNamara, one of the creators of Euler's Choice.
Speaker: Stick around after the credits to hear a little bit about Electromancy.
Speaker: Euler's Choice is not suitable for all listeners.
Speaker: Full content warnings may be found in the show notes.
Speaker: Listener discretion is advised.
Speaker: We are the fisher folk of Eskimo.
Speaker: For generations, we have made our living from the sea, and from the great eels that roam us.
Speaker: But the deeps are dark, full of secrets, and the ocean never gives back what it takes, unchanged.
Speaker: What's this?
Speaker: Reckon it's a... Spider crab leg?
Speaker: Could be.
Speaker: What'd you expect?
Speaker: It is far too hot for this early in the spring.
Speaker: I'm sweating.
Speaker: Pugil, careful there.
Speaker: Don't wipe your head.
Speaker: What?
Speaker: You get eel flesh in that cut under your eye, you'll be a goner.
Speaker: Even the sawbones won't be able to help you.
Speaker: Remember that time when Fairy Brain Gutter Perch fell in the pit and- I remember, I remember.
Speaker: How did you get that cut anyway?
Speaker: And that shiner?
Speaker: Were you fighting again?
Speaker: They started it.
Speaker: One of the folk from up river called me a stinking sly pollard down at the Gleaming Hill.
Speaker: I wasn't gonna let that stand.
Speaker: Especially not.
Speaker: Especially not?
Speaker: Especially not in front of Mick's haycrapper.
Speaker: Are you still pining for that fishmonger's child?
Speaker: I mean, I have the prettiest hands.
Speaker: It's a deft and delicate, I mean, I can't take my eyes off him every time I see him wrapping a filet of haddock.
Speaker: Eating a lot of haddock lately, are you?
Speaker: I'm so sick of haddock, Ran.
Speaker: But it's worth it to it, you know.
Speaker: Chippahoe!
Speaker: Another one?
Speaker: Guess we'd better haul over to the docks.
Speaker: I'll get the cart.
Speaker: How was pit two looking this morning?
Speaker: Stinking high and noxious as usual.
Speaker: Good thing they're downwind from Eskimo, they'll solve the fancy folk to complain.
Speaker: I hardly notice the smell these days.
Speaker: Yeah, well, you can get used to anything.
Speaker: Or so I tell my relatives so they don't look all pitying at me.
Speaker: Oh, I cleaned out pit one.
Speaker: Took a while to get the seawater pumps going.
Speaker: We need to tell Blenny to get the pressure checked.
Speaker: No leaks in the pit and no cracks in the stone though.
Speaker: Nothing getting out.
Speaker: Good.
Speaker: Don't want to hear that story from my die again about that spring storm ten years back.
Speaker: A tide so high, it washed the rotting pits bare and dumped all the filth in the sea.
Speaker: Poor fishin' for years after that.
Speaker: And the fish that were caught were twisted things.
Speaker: Barely fit to eat.
Speaker: Yeah, all the older folk remember that year.
Speaker: Pit number three's lookin' good, though.
Speaker: Wheel flesh is all rotted down and sand fleas aren't stayin' away anymore.
Speaker: Pretty sure it's safe to oil skin up and go pokin' through.
Speaker: Any poly?
Speaker: I don't think so.
Speaker: Couldn't see any tendrils.
Speaker: I'd have ripped them out pretty sharp and set fire to them if I'd seen any.
Speaker: Don't want any spores floating off and infecting someone's fancy carriage or corset.
Speaker: They'd find a nest of bone worms, though.
Speaker: Wiggly little things.
Speaker: Time to kill them.
Speaker: You did, though?
Speaker: Oh, sure, sure.
Speaker: You know, don't want them eating any eel bone we could sell for a pretty penny.
Speaker: Hey.
Speaker: You remember when Fairybrand found that gold ring?
Speaker: Yeah.
Speaker: We ate well that week.
Speaker: Poor Fairybrand.
Speaker: Yeah.
Speaker: Did you go to the funeral?
Speaker: Couldn't face it.
Speaker: Horrible business.
Speaker: They had to line the coffin with oil skins.
Speaker: To stop the ground around his grave being poisoned, they said, but I reckon it was to stop and, you know...
Speaker: leaking out during the funeral and upsetting the relatives.
Speaker: I went to see him near the end.
Speaker: He couldn't talk.
Speaker: Just gurgled.
Speaker: The whites of his eyes were all spotted with black.
Speaker: Don't... I don't want to hear the details.
Speaker: And that's why we keep our hands away from our face when we're in the pits.
Speaker: Look.
Speaker: Or else someday, it'll be your funeral I'll be at.
Speaker: listening to your relatives talking about the risks of honest, by which they mean nasty, work, and the very important things you did for the town.
Speaker: Slapping me on the back and offering to buy me a drink.
Speaker: Actually, I'll take the free drink.
Speaker: Hey, you want to stop imagining my funeral?
Speaker: That would be great.
Speaker: We'll sing all your favorite hymns.
Speaker: The eulogy will be just beautiful.
Speaker: Oh, look, the docks were here.
Speaker: When we arrived at the docks, things seemed at first to be perfectly normal.
Speaker: Elan ships were moored all along the quayside.
Speaker: Sturdy things with thick hulls,
Speaker: Bells hung amidships and strong oak beams at the back for the nets.
Speaker: Each day, weather and season permitting, the eel ships sail out into the eastern ocean to hunt for the great eels.
Speaker: If they're clever or just lucky, they'll come back with one of the beasts laid across the deck.
Speaker: They'll offload it onto the quay, where it'll be stripped down by the workers and the hide will be peeled off by the netters in long pieces from neck to tail.
Speaker: Then the flesh will be split apart and the precious bone taken out, most carefully.
Speaker: Most will be sold to the dealers in Eskimo, but the bones in the best condition, they go to the scrim chantry.
Speaker: Then comes the cleanup, which is where we come in.
Speaker: Anything that's left over, muscle and innards, is left for us, along with all the bycatch and flotsam and jetsam brought up by the trawling.
Speaker: We load it onto our cart, and we wheel it back to the rotting pits to rot down and pick through.
Speaker: The eel on the dock was a biggin', and the netters were already strippin' off the skin, ready for the bone sellers to appraise what was underneath.
Speaker: But the mood today was unusually somber.
Speaker: Most crews are cheerful when they've just come in with a fresh catch.
Speaker: Took me a few moments to work out what was amiss.
Speaker: There was only one ship moored.
Speaker: Eel boats always go out in pairs, you see.
Speaker: One ship takes each half of the net, and they trawl for the eels with it strung out between them.
Speaker: And yet, in the dock there was only one ship moored.
Speaker: The boss was already waiting for us when we got to the quayside with the carts.
Speaker: Thank... on you're here.
Speaker: This is going to be a three-part long job.
Speaker: At least.
Speaker: Look at the size of that thing.
Speaker: We're gonna be here all day.
Speaker: Blenny, where's the other ship?
Speaker: The Froelich found dirt.
Speaker: The fortune barely made it back to port.
Speaker: See that gouge above the waterline?
Speaker: They were bailing and plugging it all the way home.
Speaker: Did they ground on something?
Speaker: That's a deep cut.
Speaker: No.
Speaker: Captain won't say what did it.
Speaker: But the sailors... What have they been saying?
Speaker: Tall tales.
Speaker: Tall tales with no sense to them.
Speaker: Must have been a hidden shawl.
Speaker: Has to be.
Speaker: Get along now, we've got work to do.
Speaker: Blenny's being cagey.
Speaker: Zay's not the only one.
Speaker: Nobody will tell me what happened.
Speaker: It... You belay that talk, Carrick Boater!
Speaker: You know what I see?
Speaker: I've seen it with my own eyes.
Speaker: So did the rest of us.
Speaker: So did you.
Speaker: It was ailed by Ketch.
Speaker: Ailed by Ketch.
Speaker: I swear it on my mother's grave.
Speaker: There are some names you don't say aloud.
Speaker: some things whose notice you don't want to draw on yourself, your kin, or your ship.
Speaker: Carrick Boater's shipmates rested heavy hands on their shoulders and gently led them away to somewhere less public.
Speaker: Swiftly, everyone went about their business, except for one person.
Speaker: Across the dock from us, someone had been sitting on an old capstan since Pugil and I got there.
Speaker: She was dressed like a sailor,
Speaker: and hard-wearing canvas and linen, but her clothes seemed too new, and she was plump and well-fed, with the softness and roundness of someone who had never worked outdoors in her life.
Speaker: It seemed when the commotion started, she had slipped down off her perch and come over to the dock to see what was going on.
Speaker: I noticed some of the workers start to side-eye her for not moving on.
Speaker: Happily, before anything could turn nasty, the dock sawbones sauntered over for a quiet word.
Speaker: I like the sawbones.
Speaker: I once saw him slip a restorative tonic to Fugil when he came in hanging one morning from a night on the sauce.
Speaker: And with only the slightest of raised eyebrows and the tiniest of smirks, very restrained, I would have properly teased Fugil for it.
Speaker: Come on, help me with these guts.
Speaker: They're slippery.
Speaker: Who's that?
Speaker: Where?
Speaker: Talking to the Sawbones?
Speaker: I don't know her.
Speaker: Maybe someone from upriver looking for work?
Speaker: Looks a bit soft for that.
Speaker: Oh, never mind, she's leaving.
Speaker: You gonna help out or not?
Speaker: Ah, sorry.
Speaker: You all ready for shoaling?
Speaker: You bet your boots I am.
Speaker: Me and the gang are gonna paint up old Elvore Jack tonight and tie the bells and oil skins on him.
Speaker: Might need to repair the jaw too, maybe.
Speaker: Wire's getting a touch then.
Speaker: Going to hate crappers first then?
Speaker: Snap ol' Jack at your beloved.
Speaker: Oh, right.
Speaker: Sweetheart.
Speaker: No, that's too obvious.
Speaker: Maybe we'll go there second or third.
Speaker: What about you?
Speaker: Got your eye on anybody?
Speaker: That bit was heavy.
Speaker: Nah, I think I'm not cut out for all that.
Speaker: Cut out for, uh... You know.
Speaker: Sweethearts.
Speaker: I don't see the appeal.
Speaker: Friends I like, but sweethearts?
Speaker: No.
Speaker: I tried walking out with Master Redfield.
Speaker: You know, the farmer's son.
Speaker: We had a good time talking and going to the fair up the river.
Speaker: But after a few weeks, he wanted to do, you know, kissing.
Speaker: You don't like kissing?
Speaker: I'd rather kiss a catfish.
Speaker: Just as wet and just as strange.
Speaker: Eh, not everything's for everybody.
Speaker: I don't like sardines.
Speaker: Can you manage that cart on your own?
Speaker: Yes.
Speaker: Just about.
Speaker: By the time we were done dumping the refuse into a pit and securing the covers, it was getting on into the evening, and most of the business of the docks was done for the day.
Speaker: The evening watch had already blown their horn to call out the constables to patrol the streets when we finally finished up.
Speaker: So I noticed Pugil walking a little brisker than usual.
Speaker: Pugil lived in a garret with a bunch of his... well, if I'm honest, I think it was his gang.
Speaker: I didn't ask prying questions.
Speaker: People find homes and families wherever they can.
Speaker: Sometimes the family you were born with isn't right for you.
Speaker: Some people have the guts to leave a family that doesn't suit them, too.
Speaker: Some people.
Speaker: I left Pugil on the eastern side of the river and crossed the bridge.
Speaker: As I walked, a drizzle began.
Speaker: And where there's a drizzle, it will likely turn to rain.
Speaker: I didn't fancy getting home damp, so I turned to take a different route.
Speaker: One which would take me past the railway station and into the arcade, where I'd mostly be under glass-framed ceilings and the brightly colored canopies of empty stalls.
Speaker: maybe long enough for the rain to ease off.
Speaker: Perhaps I'd dawdle a bit and look in some windows at fancy things I couldn't afford to give it a chance to stop.
Speaker: The station was quieter in the evening, but there were still people outside.
Speaker: A businessman with bushy sideburns held a newspaper over their head as a makeshift umbrella, a child huddled under their parents' coat, and a curious someone stood alone at the far end of the station.
Speaker: She was staring blankly off into the distance and fiddling with her clothes.
Speaker: The clothes were expensive and clearly in modern cuts and fashions, with fancy embroidery and shiny beads, but odd in their combination and colors.
Speaker: I realized I was staring and tried to be less obvious about it.
Speaker: It wasn't as if you didn't see eccentric rich folks around Eskmouth, shopping in the boutiques and outlandish hats, that sort of thing.
Speaker: As I walked past, her gaze did not move until I was close by, at which she followed my footsteps down the street with a cocked head, still staring in my general direction.
Speaker: It was...curious.
Speaker: I paused to turn back and look at her, and she smiled in response.
Speaker: Not at me, but smiled at the air and nodded to me.
Speaker: I held up a hand in greeting.
Speaker: She only continued to smile.
Speaker: Odd, I suppose, but that's Esmith for you.
Speaker: As I reached the end of the street, I heard the faint sound of her calling after me.
Speaker: Wait.
Speaker: But I had no intention of waiting.
Speaker: I wanted to get into the arcade and out of the rain.
Speaker: The rain did not let up though, even after I had admired all the fancy hats in the Emporia and coveted some very shiny red boots.
Speaker: It was still coming down by the time I got up to the West Cliff.
Speaker: Our street is called, unimaginatively, Cliff Street.
Speaker: It's the last one before you get to the highlight, the beacon that burns to warn ships about the dangerous shoals below the cliff.
Speaker: Wrecks still happen down there sometimes, if inexperienced captains miss the harbor or heavy mist hides the beacon.
Speaker: You can sometimes see their wooden bones at high tide, rotten masts and keels sticking out from between the rocks.
Speaker: My father is the keeper of the light.
Speaker: It's our family tradition.
Speaker: We are beacon keepers and we are storm callers.
Speaker: We tend the light, repair the scaffold, and carve the signs to protect it into its wooden struts and beams.
Speaker: We know the ways of wind and water and the knots and chants that make them hate us.
Speaker: We can calm a storm to save a ship caught in it or summon one to stir up the fish for catching.
Speaker: We guard and serve the fisher folk of Eskimoeth as we have for generations.
Speaker: That's the expectation, anyway, that I'll be the next Beacon Keeper.
Speaker: The Assumption.
Speaker: You can guess whether anyone ever asked me if that's what I want.
Speaker: I doubt it'll take you many guesses.
Speaker: There are books of knots and spells and lore scrawled in many hands over many years on the shelves in our house.
Speaker: I used to read them eagerly, but now I don't see the point in learning those things.
Speaker: Most of what the storm callers do has either been replaced by modern technology, or there isn't much use for it anymore.
Speaker: My father told me in the old days there was more respect for our family than what we do.
Speaker: He said it with such bitterness.
Speaker: But I just can't find it in me to care about tradition the way he does.
Speaker: There's more to the world than knots and winds and water.
Speaker: The evening mist was starting to snake up the river by the time I quietly lifted the door latch to find my cousin there, getting ready.
Speaker: No chance for me to sneak in unnoticed, apparently.
Speaker: My cousin Nama is an eeler, with the gratitude and the good return.
Speaker: They are ships with a fine reputation around Eskimeth.
Speaker: They bring in big catches, and their captains are respectful of the sea and its ways.
Speaker: Ran, you're back late.
Speaker: The Fortune and Frolic came in.
Speaker: Well, the Fortune did.
Speaker: Uh... Hmm?
Speaker: The Fortune and Frolic, their captains are the Westgate siblings.
Speaker: If the Frolic sank... I see.
Speaker: I'll say a prayer for them when I next go to the chapel.
Speaker: You're off then?
Speaker: Yes.
Speaker: I'll see you in a few days on being merciful.
Speaker: How's things in the house?
Speaker: Let's just say that I'm glad I'm off, Elan.
Speaker: I'll see how quietly I can go in.
Speaker: Good luck.
Speaker: I'm going out now.
Speaker: Quickly, come inside and then close the door behind me.
Speaker: Who's there?
Speaker: Nama?
Speaker: Did you forget something?
Speaker: It's me, Da.
Speaker: I'm back from the pits.
Speaker: Are you still up making rag mats?
Speaker: No sense in hands being idle.
Speaker: Nama's gone then.
Speaker: Just left.
Speaker: One day they will not return to us.
Speaker: Maybe so.
Speaker: I have no respect for the sea, Helis.
Speaker: Not like you and I who have it in our bones.
Speaker: And perhaps Nama.
Speaker: There's a little of it in them somewhere, I reckon.
Speaker: Yes, duh.
Speaker: Put kettle on, will you?
Speaker: I'm parched.
Speaker: One day Nama won't return, like the fisher cliffs.
Speaker: My father doesn't add.
Speaker: Like my uncle and aunt.
Speaker: Like Nama's parents who went out on a boat as storm callers and never came back.
Speaker: Or like my other father who went away to the city to work and never came back neither.
Speaker: Like everyone who doesn't return to us.
Speaker: Like everyone my father drives away, I didn't say.
Speaker: There's a lot that ain't said in this house, because it's easier to say nothing than it is to start a fight.
Speaker: Strong though the urge was to start one at that moment.
Speaker: I'm being harsh on my father.
Speaker: I know he says these things because he loves me and Nama, and fears to lose yet more of his family.
Speaker: Careful there, what did Kettle do to you?
Speaker: No respect for sea, for the living things that's in it, for what's old.
Speaker: They're fishing in eel breeding grounds now like fools.
Speaker: I warn them.
Speaker: I say you have no idea if you're catching a mother with a belly full of eggs until she's already on your deck dead.
Speaker: They call me a superstitious old fool.
Speaker: Their only care is for money they'll get from them up at East Cliff.
Speaker: One day sea will take what's old from them.
Speaker: You mark my words.
Speaker: And why are you home so late?
Speaker: I want you to bone at those pits and for barely any pay, taking advantage on top of spilling that rot into the sea, poisoning water.
Speaker: Heel came in.
Speaker: Oh, ho, ho, ho.
Speaker: Well, someone will be making a mint then.
Speaker: Not you, of course.
Speaker: Only scraps for people like us.
Speaker: The fortune came back without the frolic.
Speaker: Ah, see, what did I tell you?
Speaker: What did I tell you?
Speaker: Un takes a Jew.
Speaker: I wish Nama would go on a lobster boat.
Speaker: They don't fill sand and water with poison.
Speaker: They throw their catch back when they find it bearing eggs.
Speaker: Respectful and safer for all there's any safety at all for those who go to sea.
Speaker: That's what's needed, a little more respect.
Speaker: And you?
Speaker: Duh.
Speaker: Cleaning up their messes, picking through their leavings, scraping whatever coin you can from their scraps.
Speaker: Banked fires still burn and can burst out with the slightest breath of air.
Speaker: You know what?
Speaker: You're right.
Speaker: I am.
Speaker: Well, yes, of course.
Speaker: The rotting pits are piss poor pay for hard work, unless we find something good.
Speaker: Haven't you told me so a hundred times?
Speaker: If I'm to be in danger all day, it might as well be for a high price.
Speaker: Where do you think you're going?
Speaker: Run!
Speaker: I was angry.
Speaker: Of course I was.
Speaker: I was angry and I was sick of coming home to that.
Speaker: Day after day.
Speaker: Week after week.
Speaker: Sick of spending a hard day hauling ill flesh just to come back to a curmudgeon who growls at me about respect.
Speaker: It seemed to show none for me or anyone who did anything he judged wanting.
Speaker: And there was so very much he judged wanting.
Speaker: I stormed the fastest way I knew through the darkened streets and all the way back to the docks.
Speaker: I barely noticed where I was going, I was so angry.
Speaker: At the Night Harbor Masters, I asked where the gratitude was birthed and was sent down to the quayside.
Speaker: I could feel the weather in my head and my feet and the sea in my bones.
Speaker: The thought of that was hateful to me.
Speaker: It reminded me that my father was right.
Speaker: and the storm calling was in me and strong too.
Speaker: My fingers made nimble by years of knots helped me pick through the pits.
Speaker: My keen eye trained by him to observe the patterns and movements of the sea, making it easier to spot things shining or growing.
Speaker: A life that could never be truly my own.
Speaker: A world that seems so small, hemmed in by a sea so vast and unending
Speaker: And now my blood was up, I could not prevent my ears and my senses being open to whatever was out there in the darkness of the sea.
Speaker: Something in the back of my neck was prickling.
Speaker: I suddenly knew that I was being watched by something large and angry far away.
Speaker: Something with an anger that reflected mine, but older and deeper.
Speaker: Something that had noticed me and now was drawn to me.
Speaker: I shook it off.
Speaker: Dragged myself back into the world.
Speaker: Tried to calm myself down.
Speaker: Tried to be small and unseen.
Speaker: Flynn?
Speaker: What are you doing here?
Speaker: Is something wrong?
Speaker: You're soaked.
Speaker: I'm done, Nama.
Speaker: Done?
Speaker: What are you doing about?
Speaker: I'm sick of the rotting pits, Nama.
Speaker: I want to go even.
Speaker: Stay the way, haul away, anchors away.
Speaker: Haul in thine nets at the end of the day.
Speaker: Tidy thine lines and let none go astray.
Speaker: Else bycats shall catch thee and drag thee away.
Speaker: White is the crest and the furrow is deep.
Speaker: Down through the darkness our heads slowly creep.
Speaker: Out in the night while the folk are asleep.
Speaker: Pray gentle and for our souls to.
Speaker: Sail away, haul away, anchors away.
Speaker: Fall in thine nets at the end of the day.
Speaker: Tidy thy lines and let none go astray.
Speaker: Else by cats shall catch thee and drag thee away.
Speaker: Black is the storm cloud that stirs up the water.
Speaker: Twisted the boat and asleep as an water.
Speaker: Sharp-eyed the sailor who quickly shall spot her.
Speaker: So we pursue her and bring her to slaughter.
Speaker: Sail away, are the way, anchors away.
Speaker: Fall in thine nets at the end of the day.
Speaker: Tie thee thy lines and let none go astray.
Speaker: Else my cat shall catch thee and drag thee away.
Speaker: Red is the deck with the blood we have sealed.
Speaker: Slick is the deck with the gore of the kilt.
Speaker: Strong blows the wind homeward icy and chilled.
Speaker: To our children with bellies that need to be filled.
Speaker: Ah, ah, ah.
Speaker: I'll sail away, haul away, anchors away.
Speaker: Haul in thine nets at the end of the day.
Speaker: Tidy thine lines and let none go astray.
Speaker: Else bycats shall catch thee and drag thee away.
Speaker: Healer's Choice was curated by Lou Sutcliffe and Daisy McNamara.
Speaker: Ran Fishercliffe was played by Ray Lundberg.
Speaker: Pijol Flensery was played by Binar.
Speaker: Lunny Pitforer was Rowan von Princeton.
Speaker: Captain of the Fortune was Wyatt West.
Speaker: Carrick Boder was played by Tal Muneer.
Speaker: Murray Whitechanter was Tanya Milovic.
Speaker: And Nama Fishercliffe was Lindsay C. Bletton Stormsinger was David Ault.
Speaker: With additional voices by J. E. Haywood, Diego Herr, and Meg Malloy-Tuton.
Speaker: Our writer, composer, and sound designer was Lou Sutcliffe.
Speaker: Our producer and dialogue editor was Daisy McNamara.
Speaker: Script editing was by Cale Brown and Pacific S. Obadiah.
Speaker: Our theme for this episode, Ale Bycatch, was sung by Derek Valen, Cale Brown, Daisy McNamara, Elijah Harper, Diego Rivera, and Lou Sutcliffe.
Speaker: If you enjoyed the show, please leave us a review and follow us on our socials at EhlersChoice.
Speaker: Social media and our website can be found in the show notes.
Speaker: Thank you for listening, and we will see you in two weeks.
Speaker: And now that that's squared away, I want to tell you about a show I love called Electromancy.
Speaker: Electromancy is a new audio fiction fantasy adventure podcast which follows the story of Jenna, a teenage lightning mage, or Electromancer, who, after hiding her powers for years, is finally discovered and forced to attend the Royal Institute for the Study of Sorcery.
Speaker: There she will find allies, enemies, mysteries, monsters, and intrigue.
Speaker: And you thought your high school was bad.
Speaker: I love this show.
Speaker: I love the sound design.
Speaker: I love the acting.
Speaker: It is all top-notch.
Speaker: If you like our show or shows like The Kingmaker Histories, you are going to love this podcast.
Speaker: You can find them on social media at ElectromancyPod or at their website at ElectromancyPod.com.
Speaker: Links will be in the show notes.
Speaker: You don't need to take my word for it.
Speaker: Listen to their trailer now to see for yourself.
Speaker: These two mages we've just saved, Tessick and Donovan...
Speaker: I need to know.
Speaker: Are they worth the trouble?
Speaker: You've seen their files.
Speaker: They're prodigies, both of them.
Speaker: Brynn, give me back my book.
Speaker: Okay, talking a little loudly about this stuff.
Speaker: Hem, there was nothing suspicious about the interaction until you said that.
Speaker: She could have been talking about, like, a textbook.
Speaker: Hello, Electro-pensers.
Speaker: For the record, I think all five of us together is inherently kind of suspicious.
Speaker: I see how it is.
Speaker: Happy to hang with me when we're imprisoned by evil necromancers in the distant past.
Speaker: But once they save your ass, it's back to the cool kids' table.
Speaker: To be fair, I didn't have any choice but to hang out with you then.
Speaker: That's what imprisonment means.
Speaker: We need a normal thing to plan and talk about and work towards so that everything isn't schoolwork and memory wipes and time travels and monsters and death.
Speaker: Electromancy, a fantasy adventure show now available wherever you get your podcasts.
Speaker: No!
