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@raulonastool

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FARCASTLES: CHAPTER NINE – THOSE WHO REMEMBER They didn’t speak of the figure for the rest of the day. Not because they’d agreed not to—but because no one knew how to say what they’d seen. The sun hung low as they set up camp in a hollow beneath a crumbling ridge, trees curling overhead like fingers grasping toward a story they weren’t allowed to finish. Ern gathered firewood. Myrr sketched the ritual circle into their journal, slow and deliberate. Sarra sat with her back to a stone wall, polishing her blade not out of need, but rhythm. “I don’t think it was trying to stop us,” Ern said, finally breaking the silence. Torv looked up. “You think it was warning us?” “I don’t know. It didn’t move like something that wanted to kill us. It moved like it was... remembering.” Myrr closed the journal. “Memory is dangerous when it outlives the people who shaped it.” Gellon poked the fire with a stick. “Everything we do seems to come with a shadow.”
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!attack north They have bad jokes
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We’re exploring a new creative medium using tools designed for investing. That’s the real gap. https://paragraph.com/@raulonastool/the-interface-is-stuck
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!attack north 🏴‍☠️🐉
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FARCASTLES: CHAPTER EIGHT – THE SHADOW ROAD The road east of Daggerpoint didn’t appear on any map they carried. It was less a road and more a scar—a stretch of land where nothing grew straight and the dirt had forgotten how to rest. Trees on either side leaned away like they’d seen what came down it before. No birds. No wind. Just the sound of boots on ground that didn’t want them. Roots curled across the trail like veins. When Ern stepped on one, it pulsed faintly under his heel. The five walked in silence. Smoke still clung to their clothes, and the weight of the map seemed heavier than it should have been. Ern felt it in every step, like each mile cost him more of the boy who had left the village with a tin cup and no idea what he was walking into. Gellon was the first to speak. “So. What do we call ourselves?” Torv grunted. “Alive.”
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We need Ricky Martin to join Farcaster
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https://paragraph.com/@raulonastool/believe-a-story-about-cement,-memory,-and-the-mediums-that-make-us-human
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Servers seem to be down - investigating
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https://youtu.be/4mZCuRcAdDQ?si=ODaJFlSk_HJYa2I8
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!attack north 🏴‍☠️🐉
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FARCASTLES: CHAPTER SEVEN – THE MAP BENEATH THE FIRE The sun rose over Daggerpoint with no intention of warming it. Smoke still drifted in lazy columns from the orchard, and the scorched remains of the Hollow-creature lay crumpled in the village square like a nightmare that hadn’t quite finished. Ern sat on the edge of a well, hands clasped, watching ash settle over the rooftops. His word still echoed in his head—stay—but now it clung to him differently. He had stayed. He had fought. And yet, he felt as unmoored as ever. The others moved quietly through the aftermath. Torv sharpened his blade in rhythmic silence. Gellon helped a limping villager mend a broken cart axle, though his sleeve was still wet with blood. Myrr stood by the remnants of the Hollow’s maw, staring at something only they could see. Sarra paced like a caged wolf, her armor already cleaned, eyes already on the road ahead.
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Technically speaking, everything on the internet is pixel art
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One minute, I held the key. Next, the walls were closed on me. Then I discovered that my castles stand upon pillars of salt and pillars of sand. !attack north 🏴‍☠️🐉
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Let's go H-Town!
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FARCASTLES: CHAPTER SIX – FLAME AND MEMORY They were seated around the long table in Daggerpoint’s town hall, light filtering through cracked windows, dust dancing like ghosts in the beams. The old woman who’d stopped the confrontation stood at the head, her hands wrapped tightly around a carved cane that looked older than anyone present. “My name is Alder May,” she said. “Once a mediator between the Castles. Now… keeper of what’s left.” Torv leaned forward, arms crossed. “So what happened here?” Alder May closed her eyes. “The banners came down. That was the first thing. No decree, no battle. Just… gone. One day the Red was missing. Next, the Blue. People whispered, then stopped whispering. Then they left.”
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!attack north 🏴‍☠️🐉
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The new minimize feature in v2 quietly brings back some of the magic from v1. Frames v1 had this ephemeral charm that felt like playful little widgets embedded directly into the feed. You could tap, interact, and keep scrolling. They were lightweight and conversational, native to the rhythm of the social feed. But they were also heavily constrained. Frames v2 unlocked the ability to build full-featured apps inside Farcaster. That shift brought serious power. suddenly, Farcaster started to feel like a social app store built on top of the graph. But the tradeoff was a shift in context. Interacting with a v2 Frame often meant leaving the feed behind and entering a separate mini-app experience. It was still cool, but some of that feed-native feeling got lost.
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!attack north 🏴‍☠️🐉
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FARCASTLES: CHAPTER FIVE – DAGGERPOINT The gate to Daggerpoint hung open—not broken, not breached. Just... open. Like a jaw unhinged mid-sentence. No one spoke as they passed beneath it. Ern noticed Gellon slow his steps, one hand resting on the hilt of Mercy. Myrr walked in with eyes half-lidded, as if listening to something the rest of them couldn’t hear. Inside, the village was half a breath from ruin. Shutters hung crooked. Doors swung gently in the wind. A well in the square had gone dry enough to crack. But the strangest thing of all was that everything else—the laundry lines, the swept porches, the arranged chairs—looked like people had just stepped away. “Too quiet,” Gellon muttered. “No signs of struggle,” Sarra said. “No signs of peace either.” Torv sniffed the air. “Smoke. North side.”
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This is exciting! https://x.com/LC/status/1908181434709188792?t=5fOxHko8tHPvSLYck7pAvw&s=19
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