Posts Tagged ‘kilted german’

I’ve owned a utilikilt for over a year now, and have been wearing it proudly as often as possible.  I have the Workman’s model, and it’s great.  Lots of pocket space, comfortable, easy to clean, rugged, pretty much everything you could want in a piece of clothing.  They’re a bit pricey, but definitely worth it for something that won’t fall apart on you after half a year of hard wear.
I’m a member of the Utilikilts Evangelist program, which basically means that I get a small commission when someone visits the Utilikilts website using my link and then ends up buying a kilt.  My unique link is  here

I signed up for the program because I think that they make an awesome product, and every guy should get a chance to try on a kilt at some point.  It really does change your whole perspective on wearing pants.  I get lots of comments about my utilikilt, and I’m always happy to talk to people about it.  For me, the main selling point is that it’s a) ridiculously comfortable and b) has lots of pocket space.  I really hate having stuff in my pockets, so big pockets mean I can carry more stuff without awkwardness.  If someone ends up buying a kilt using my link, then that’s totally awesome.  But more than anything I’d love for people to just check out the site and see what’s out there.  Like I said, they do make some really cool kilts.  And if you’re in one of the cities with a Utilikilts retail store, check it out!  On one last note, be sure to measure carefully when you order – it’s not only the ladies’ fashion industry that lies about sizes.  Get a tape measure and a friend to make sure you’re getting a kilt that fits you perfectly.


Author’s note:  The past few days have been without an update, and I apologize.  Today was rough, because my wife was having car troubles.  As always, this is the first unedited rough draft.  Thanks for reading.



The walk back to the Twilight was spent discussing the best plan of action for the journey ahead.  They would need to take on extra food supplies to feed everyone, and spaces to sleep would have to be found for Janus’ crew and the sikh’s guards.

“I’m still not certain where Slyne could have flown,” said Janus.  “We don’t want to end up heading in the wrong direction on a wild goose chase.  Are you sure that Spain is his best bet, Mellira?”

“Mostly.  Slyne doesn’t speak Arabic, so he doesn’t have many options other than north.  Spain also puts the Mediterranean between us, and with a good headwind he can gain some ground on us.  If we can, we really need to look into why he went and stole all that gold.”

“Greed? Power? Lust? Seems pretty straightforward to me,” said Ibben.

“You don’t just empty a city’s bank vaults for greed, Ibben.  I feel like there’s a reason behind his plan, and if we know what that is then we’re a step ahead of Slyne.  Janus, maybe that kid can try to keep looking for information here in the city.”

“Makhi?” said Janus.  “Yeah, that might work.  I’ll try to talk to Fahn about it before we fly.  And you’re right.  Nobody makes himself a wanted man like that without good reason.   He’s shut him himself out of the Islamic world and put a price on his head.  Damn well better believe we’re not the only ones after his hide.  We just get first crack because he’s got my damn airship.”

The air-port was bustling when the group go back – several airships were taking off, and enormous freight hauler was gliding in from the west, engines pouring black smoke as the crew tried to manhandle the giant beast to a mooring tower.  The deck of the Twilight was packed with crew and crates, and Ford directed traffic with an air of long experience.  There was a sense of urgency, but not panic.

“Janus, good to see you back.  And you brought friends, excellent.  Now we have even less space on the decks.”  Ford frowned at the red-uniformed guards and raised an eyebrow.  Janus shook his head and mouthed “later”.  

“How are we on supplies, Ford?”

“Well, they wouldn’t let me take off without you, so I took a chance and had them load extra barrels of salted meat, lemons, and salt fish, as well as extra coal.  We’re loaded to the gills, and it’s going to slow us down, I won’t lie to you.  But I figured better prepared for anything is better than nothing.  What did you get arrested for, forget to pay a port fee or something?  Can’t have been big, you’re already out.”

“Stole the city treasury.  Like you said, nothing big.” Janus gave Ford a clap on the shoulder and a grin as he walked past.  “If you’re ready, let’s take off.  We’ve got a lot of flying to do, and not enough time to do it in.”

He headed back to the captain’s cabin to look over the maps, and was surprised to see the shopkeeper’s assistant, Makhi, already sitting at the desk.  The boy looked up and smiled.

“Captain! How are you doing? I have something you might wish to know,” he said.

“I’m good.  Surprised to see you, but that’s alright.  We meant to send a message to you before we left.  What have you got?” He pulled out the maps, plotting the shortest route to Spain as the boy began to talk.

That morning, after returning with no useful information, Makhi had gone back to Fahn’s shop to open for the day.  Fahn sold a variety of goods, and that morning had received a shipment of German chocolates.  Makhi was sweeping when two white men entered, asking about the shipment.  As Fahn filled their order and wrote the invoice, the men discussed the previous night’s burglary of the city vaults.

“Slyne should be well on his way by now.  The airship was seen leaving the city several hours ago, and he should be in Berlin in less than a week,” said the shorter, portly man.

“Good, good.  And the sikh, what are his plans?  He will find it difficult to fly Marrakeshi airships into the Anglo-Prussian Empire.”

“He has been secluded all morning, there is no word yet on his plans. The Sky Drake’s captain was arrested this morning, however.  Rumor has it that he will hang.  Ambassador, do you really believe this will work?”

“Dear Helmut, what we have here is a clockwork, engineered to work until no longer required to.  I have every confidence that things will go smoothly at every step.  Ah, our chocolates are ready.  Thank you, dear shopkeeper.”

Fahn had sent Makhi to the Twilight as soon as the men were outside.  The information was too valuable to risk any delay.

“I think Fahn was right.  If that really was the German ambassador, then this might be a lot more dangerous than just a stolen airship and some missing gold.  We might be in deep shit, boy.” said Janus.  The boy nodded in agreement.  The ship rumbled, and suddenly lifted several feet.  “Well, I think we just took off.  I hope you don’t get airsick, boy.”

On deck, orders flew fast as the airship Twilight was loosed from his mooring tower, and began to gain altitude.  Ford directed his crew with a skilled hand, and Janus’ crew stayed out of the way.  The engines roared as they received more power, and the Twilight moved gracefully through the desert air on a northern tangent.  The captain joined Ford on deck and watched as Marrakesh, domain of the desert kings, slowly faded into the haze on the horizon.

“We’ve got to have a meeting, Ford.  I just got some news that you want to hear.”

“How bad is it, Janus?  Do I want to be sitting down and drinking when you tell me?  I have some excellent whisky saved up that should do nicely.”

“Bring it.  Make sure everyone who needs to know is there.  We have plans to make.”

Alright.  Sounds good.  I like plans.  Plans are important.  That guard captain has been looking for you.  I think his name is Odhed,” said Ford.

“Lieutenant.  Bring him, too.  How’s your crew doing?” Janus scanned the horizon.  They were the only airship in sight, quickly gaining altitude and speed.  Soon it would get colder, and most airships had storage chests of extra jackets and blankets for the higher altitudes.  Most airmen brought their own, but the sikh’s guards would need gear, as would Makhi.

Occasionally I like to put up a few links to my Etsy store, and let everyone know what’s been going on. I’ll try to mark those posts clearly, so that people can skip over them if they choose to.

I haven’t been adding a lot of new items to the Greyed Out Etsy store lately, but I did renew a few items.
The Wilderland map sold, so it was renewed just yesterday.

As always, the Drawstring Bag section of the shop has a ton of options, everything from Freestanding Brown Suede dice bags to a variety of dice bags in colorful prints. I’ve even got a commercial up for the dice bags on Youtube.

If you’re interested in fantasy art, the Monster Skull might be a good choice… I based it off a hyena skull, but changed the proportions around a bit. There’s also a Skeletal Hand painted in acrylic on matte board.

Last but not least, my crooked houses.

This is just a small selection of the items I have listed, so please stop by and take a look. I also have a secret, unlisted coupon code – it’s 15% off your order when you enter THNXMUCH as your coupon. Pass the word along to friends, as well!

Author’s note:  I had a terrible headache all day yesterday, so I failed to get any writing done whatsoever.  This is what I’ve got for today, and I’d like to put up another post tomorrow as well, which should catch us up to the regular schedule(if my own mental math is correct).  As always, this is a rough rough unedited version, straight from brain to page.  Thanks for reading!


He threw a man into the room, a small man who cursed and stayed on his knees as he held a broken left arm close at his side.

“Who is he?” Mellira and Janus eyed the man curiously, while Fahn blanched at the visibly broken arm and looked away.

“A messenger,” Ibben spat, “and you’re not going to like what he has to say.  Tell him, snake.”

“The blonde man had a letter which I am to deliver to you, oh captain of captains.  He bade me wish you well as I bring it to your hand.  Here it is.”  He fumbled one-handed at his coat, pulling out a wrinkled letter that bore the seal of the Drake.

Janus took it and began reading, and his face turned grim and dark.  When he was done he threw the paper upon the table.  Mellira grabbed it and read.

“Ibben,” the captain said.

“I started at the marketplace, since that was the last place we knew you’d gone.  It was dark by that point, and I was trailed by somebody.  I found where you’d got hit.  Blood doesn’t soak up well in sand, unless you cover it well.  The body was still there too.  Well, turns out I recognized him.  He was an enforcer and hired thug, before you finished him off.  That led me to ask some more questions, and gave me a trail.”  He paused to drink and gave Janus an indecipherable look.  “I’m sorry, man.  You had no way to know.  We all trusted him.”

“I don’t understand,” Mellira said.  “We’ve all known Slyne for years and years.  He’s saved my life more than once.  Why would he take the Sky Drake and run?”

The captain was silent, so Ibben continued.  The little shopkeeper put a consoling hand on Janus’ shoulder.

“Money? Greed? All I know is that he took an opportunity, and made off with an airship.  Most of the crew is still here, by the way.  Turns out that he got them off the ship with a king’s ransom in booze and tobacco.  Guess he still had some sort of conscience.  Murdering an entire airship crew might have been too much even for him.  Len got his throat slit, though.  Poor bastard was on watch when they came over the railings.  And you know that Ben is still on the Drake.  He might have written the letter, but I know the kid, and I don’t think he had anything to do with Slyne’s plan.”

He didn’t.  I’ve always trusted Ben.  No reason to stop now.  Although I thought I could trust Ruther Slyne, too.”  Janus sighed and scrubbed a hand through his hair.

“So we’re stuck here in Marrakesh with our crew but no airship?  An airman has to fly, Janus.  We have to get the Drake back!”  The loss of the airship had hit Mellira hard.  The usually stoic and fierce redhead looked on the verge of tears.

“We’ll get him back, Mell.  I can promise you that.  The Drake will be back in our hands and I’ll send Ruther Slyne down to Hell at the same time!”  The table jumped at the impact of Janus’ fist.  He smiled at Mellira, and she gave him a grin in return.

“What’s the plan, captain?” Ibben asked.  Janus began to speak, just as everyone in the room became aware that the messenger was still there.  Ibben took two steps and slammed a fist into the man’s temple, knocking him out.

“We’ve got a crew,” Janus began.  “I think we can trust whoever Slyne left behind.  We need an airship.  Ford is still in the city, and he owes me a favor.  The Twilight isn’t quite as fast as the Drake, but we might be able to keep up with Slyne.”  Where would Slyne have flown, do we know?”

“I can ask, see if anyone’s spotted an airship leaving.  It’s not that easy to hide, and a lot of people are up before dawn,” said Ibben.

“The closest air-port is in Spain, and he’ll need to refuel, I think.  The Drake was low on supplies, so we won’t want to fly far without picking up essentials.  That might be our best bet,” Mellira added.

“Great.  Then here’s what we’ll be doing…” The conspirators gathered around Janus as he began to explain, and slowly a plan came together for the reclamation of the Sky Drake.

Finally finished Beast-09, at least to a degree where I’m comfortable fielding him on the table.  The base needs snow and static grass, and a couple minor details need doing, but otherwise he’s done.  I decided to go with a similar color scheme to my Zerkova theme force, which means lots of Cryx Bane Highlight, high lit/shaded with Hammerfall Khaki and Thornwood Green.  The metals were Boltgun Metal, heavily shaded/washed with Devlan Mud and thinned Bloodstone.  Fun model to put together, I enjoyed it.



On a related note, here’s the transport bag I’m using right now.  High time to get a new one, I think….





This is the first rough rough rough version of something that’s puttering around in my head.  I don’t know if it will go anywhere, or if it will simply go away at some point.  But I’m posting it now, with a warning that it’s rough and unedited and might go through tons of changes if I feel like it.  It’s something called Airships of Marrakesh.

The form came out of nowhere, and Janus felt a fist connect with his side as he slammed into the wall, knocking the breath out of him.   He gasped and grabbed his attacker, bringing a knee into the smaller man’s belly, then pushed him hard and sent a kick toward a knee.  His foot missed, and the man danced back several steps, drawing a knife.  Janus reached for his own weapon and stepped in, slashing at the man’s face. He looked like a bedouin, and ducked under the attack snake-fast, his own blade lashing out.  Janus slapped at the arm holding the knife and stabbed, leaving a thin line of blood on the man’s arm.  Another exchange of blows left both men with wounds.   Janus felt the spreading warmth of blood along his chest, and the bedouin bled freely from his knife hand.

It was time to make an end.  Janus feinted to the right, then dropped and kicked a heavy boot at his opponent’s knee.  This time he failed to miss, and the crunch of bone and gristle was audible.  The man dropped and began to scream, and Janus was on him like an angry bear, the knife in his hand a vicious claw that tore open the man’s throat.  The fight had lasted less than a minute.

The alley was still quiet, but it was hard to hide a body, and soon other market-goers would notice the blood.  Janus dragged the corpse behind a stacked array of spice baskets, then kicked as much sand as he could over the blood.  He shrugged at the mess, and tried to walk out of the alley as inconspicuously as possible, given the blood soaking through his jacket.


Marrakesh had grown considerably after the desert kings had allowed the opening of the air fields, the potential of unlimited wealth swaying even the most traditional of the area’s rulers.  Now it was a bustling air-port, and the graceful shapes of dirigibles and airships were a constant above the city’s skyline.  By decree the mooring slips had to be a certain distance from the market, allowing local porters to make a business of carting goods from the slips to the great market square, and also keeping the ships’ crews away from the potential trouble that such crews always found regardless of the port.  The inn district was always busy, and trade only stopped for the great sandstorms that rolled in off the Sahara and blasted the city clean again.

Janus wiped sweat from his forehead, and leaned against a red sandstone wall.  The market tilted around him, and he closed his eyes and took a deep breath.  Damn the desert kings!  The inn he’d chosen was several miles away, too far to walk in his condition.  He needed a surgeon, and water.  A stronger drink wouldn’t be unwelcome either.

The locals ignored him, and a tide of languages surrounded him.  Arabic, French, English, his native Dutch, the desert patois.  Everyone came to Marrakesh, and they all wanted something.  The local people were as new to the idea of foreign trade as the foreigners, and habit was still to ignore the white men unless they wanted to buy or sell.

“Sir? Excuse me.  Sir? Please?”  The voice was accompanied by a tug at his jacket.  Janus opened his eyes and regretted it. The sun was near the horizon, and lanced into his eyes as he glanced at the boy standing next to him.

The boy looked to be about ten years old, and snatched his hand back as soon as Janus noticed him.  “I beg your many pardons for interrupting you, but you must come with me please sir.”

“Why?”  His throat hurt, and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a drink.  Dumb.  Keeping water at hand was vital in a desert city like Marrakesh.

“Shopmaster Fahn, sir.  He has sent me to keep a watch over you should you need assistance, and has instructed me to bring you to him if necessary.”  The boy ran a hand through his coal-black hair.  His eyes stopped moving only when he spoke to Janus, and he began to look even more nervous than he’d been when he first spoke.  “It is not safe here.  You are drawing attention, and we must go.”

“What’s your name, boy? Tell me that and I’ll come.  I don’t trust strangers.”  He pushed himself painfully from the wall, and gasped as his jacket tore the drying blood from the cut on his chest.

“Makhi, sir.  I am called Makhi.  I have been helping Master Fahn for many months now.”

“Well, Makhi, it looks like you’ve got a job to do.  Let’s get going before I collapse.  And if I do collapse, get me there anyways.  You hear me? No matter what.” The first step was painful, slow, but it got better the longer he walked.  Fahn could help.  He was always resourceful.




More specifically, it’s a utilikilt. It’s comfortable, rugged, and lets me carry lots of things in the pockets. Calling it a “skirt” just makes you look uneducated, and when you do it in a way that’s supposed to sound insulting, it just makes me laugh. This is directed at all the dudes in big trucks out there, who like to call out “Nice skirt!” at me while you roll by in your too-big, gas-guzzling monster vehicle. If you think calling it a skirt is going to insult me or belittle me in any way, try again. All the compliments I get every time I’m out and about far outweigh the occasional jerk like you who has to prove how manly he is by insulting somebody else.
Here’s an idea: why not try to expand your horizons and try a kilt on for yourself? Utilikilts makes several different models, and they’re all awesome. I wear a Workman’s, which is great because like I said before, it’s rugged and has tons of pocket space.

I love my Utilikilt. I plan to get more at some point. They’re that comfortable, and truly worth the price. Check out the Utilikilts store here.

I spent time today working on a stencil for new dice bags… What does everyone think?  The “Greyed Out” is going on my current Moleskine notebook.

I have several more quotes that still need to get put on the stencil, but this is a great start I think.  The plan is to use either fabric ink or acrylic paint to apply them to the dice bags.  Acrylic paint sticks very well and is almost impossible to get off your clothes, so I’m fairly certain it will work for dice bags as well.

The first of these new dice bags should be live in my Etsy store next week. I also currently have a sale going on for 20% off – use coupon code SAVE20 to get the discount. You can find my shop, Greyed Out, here.

We’ve successfully moved into the new apartment, and the old place is no more.  Keys are handed in, and we are starting to unwind from what seemed like an eternity of moving boxes from one apartment to the next.  We own a lot of books, because we’re both literature-loving nerds, so there was a lot of heavy lifting involved.

The cats like the new place, and I think they’re still exploring and getting used to being in new spaces.  We’ve got almost everything set up the way we want it, except for a few things here and there.  The living room seems empty, but that’s because it’s hardwood floor, with a lot of space in the middle that’s begging to be filled with a rug when we can afford to pick one up.

I set up my desk today, which means that in the next few days I’ll be back to sketching and painting and working on dice bags.  I got supplies to start screen printing them, although I couldn’t find the right ink at Hobby Lobby, and will have to make a return trip for that.  To crowd source just a bit – do any of my readers have Photoshop skills?  I have a logo that I need modified just a little so that I can screen print it effectively, but I personally don’t have a copy of Photoshop.  It would probably take about 5 minutes of work for someone who knows what they are doing.

The plan right now is to start making dice bags with various roleplaying game related sayings on them, and I’ve posted on Reddit and gotten some great ideas for quotes.  Things like “Bag of Holding”, “Die Orc”, “May all your hits be crits”, and so on will soon be making an appearance on my dice bags.  If anyone has any other suggestions, I’d love to hear them – they just have to fit on a 6″x7″ dice bag.  I could probably do custom bags as well, which would be a great option for birthday gifts.  Imagine a friend’s face as he opens his gift and finds a handmade dice bag custom printed with an in-joke specific to your group.


Odd really likes jumping on our big mirror.


The mirror stands roughly 6 feet tall, and he can leap up to the top from the ground with no problem.  The lack of front claws doesn’t seem to be an issue for him.  I’m against declawing cats, because it’s much like having the first joint of each of your fingers removed, but I’m glad that we were able to rescue Odd and give him a good home.  He and our other cat, Bela Lugosi, are slowly starting to get along.  Now if only they’d stop initiating chases with each other at 6am…

We’ve raised $75 out of $700 in our ChipIn, which is just above 10%.  If everyone could spread the word, it would be awesome – share on Facebook, Twitter, ask your aunt, etc.  I’ll post the link to the ChipIn page again at the bottom of this picture.  I’ve been considering perhaps doing a small giveaway with donations – perhaps a dice bag if you donate $20 or more?  What’s everyone think?




The ChipIn page for our pet deposit can be found here:


Again, thanks to everyone who shares the post, spreads the word, and is able to give a bit here or there.  We love our cats, and they’re a blast to watch.