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purplecowbell · 1 year

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Are We Writing Fantasy Species Correctly?

Let me paint a picture that may be familiar to the average fantasy fan. In a world with only one distinct human culture, the humans are surrounded on all sides by the other races. The Elves are living in their forests and are snooty, or wise, or druidic hermits. The Dwarves live in the mountains as either warriors, or miners, or crafters. Goblins are either greedy, or envious, or dirty kleptomaniacs. The evil Orc raiding parties terrorize all the kingdoms. What is this world supposed to represent?

Many accuse that many fantasy and science fiction races are racist. Often they do have merit. Indeed, some depict other sentient humanoid beings as being biologically evil or have their culture taken directly from racist propaganda. But some critics argue that most depictions of “races” as being inherently racist are due to them being bio essentialist in nature. But how else can there be different species? If there is no change in biology, there can’t be fantastical races or species. There can be differences in biology, but what many fantasy writers fail to consider is that the use of species isn’t racist because they don’t depict one race as evil, but because the lines between races become biological certainties rather than social constructs.

For as long as fantasy and fantastical stories have existed, human-shaped creatures have been metaphors for something else. Greek Gods were metaphors for forces of nature, ghosts were representatives of an unresolved past, and fairies were (among many things) landmarks for the contemporary norms. But when writers try to make fantastical races that cast a shadow and bleed like anyone, the metaphor no longer becomes one of greater laws and trends but instead about people and populations. And to look at the history of this trend in fantasy we have to examine the grandfather that crystalized the genre: J.R.R. Tolkien.

The Origin

Tolkien, in his grand epic, drew from what many fantasy writers at the time drew from: religion and myth. He borrowed heavily from Norse mythology and their heroic tales for his protagonists, but also a dividing line between the Good races and the Evil ones (yes, he did borrow a stark line between Good and Evil, that is an assumption of cosmology and how species might work that is not assumed). But then he had those forces fight in a haunting depiction of the horrors of war he personally experienced. Many points he made about war were valid or outright correct: he values not the weapons but what they fight for, one must fight for what’s right and push through despairing times, and that the horrors of war irrevocably change people. But the problem with these metaphors, both the cosmological structure and the metaphors of war, is that they do not mix with each other without some worrying implications. Trying to make a realistic war using unrealistic people on one side says something (whether he means to or not) about real wars. World War 1 did not occur between literal angels and demons; it happened between people. The people he fought were not biologically more evil than him, and the enemy had their own civilians who weren’t responsible for the actions of their country. And the people he fought with weren’t biologically determined to be on the right side. Tolkien did not set the story during the Third Age’s civil war, with humans fighting humans, what actually happened in WW 1. He set it during a war with a clean and solid line between the countries, cultures, and races. All the good Kingdoms of Men, Elves, and Dwarves fought bravely against Sauron and his nation of soldiers. I’m not saying he did this in bad faith, but I think too many people haven’t noticed the nuance and repeated the foundation of fantastical races without improving.

The Result

You see it all the time in fantasy, with too many examples to count. How many times have you seen a world where there’s only one human nation surrounded by nations consisting of only one race each? Or, failing that, how many times have you seen a world where all human nations are specifically European and only other species have vastly different cultures? They’re in young adult novels, comic books, cookie-cutter fantasy manga, and most predominantly, it’s seen in games, both video and tabletop roleplaying. It’s especially concerning that it’s seen in engaging media like video games or TTRPGs (table top role playing games). I understand why, often the decision is economic or due to laziness. If every species can be a part of every country, then you need one model for each species for each country, much more efficient if each country has only one species, but those economic decisions negatively impact amateur creative ones. TTRPGs are a method of play that encourages — and sometimes requires — people to start making their own worlds and write their own stories. If everyone gets into the practice of imagining worlds with these divisions, they may not break out of it as they create stories outside of the system. Now I’m not saying all writers are making stories where one species is Good and one is Evil, that’s not as common nowadays. But defining nations and cultures by species makes a metaphor about real life whether the author intends for it to or not. What it does is establish the social construct of race into a biological fact without any distinction of nuance. Worse is when the non-human races are given traits that justify their own oppression. But I’m not addressing those that want to justify racism, I’m addressing well-meaning people who want to avoid this trend that fantasy can’t seem to move past.

The Solutions

There are three solutions we have for this trend: and none of them require writing a comprehensive epic covering every aspect of the world and race. The first is to represent our real world races as humans. By having more representation, the writer proves they understand all humans aren’t biologically separated. This gives a lot more breathing room for the use of nations and cultures of other species. This solution is best for those that want to explore the other species as actually alien as opposed to “weird” humans. By actively recognizing the actual diversity of humanity, one’s perception of humanity and its hypothetical relationship with another species is better solidified as being truly something other than human.

The second option is to narrow your lens of focus without cutting reference to others. A lot of simple fantasy does narrow its focus down to one kingdom, but the problem is that they narrow it down to the point of cutting off contact, relations, or even reference to other countries and races to the point that readers may assume they’re the only countries in this world. There’s a difference between setting a story in New York City and setting it in a New York City with the only reference to other places are the evil Lizardfolk that resemble rural stereotypes. You can narrow the lens while including the existence of trade routes, treaties, or other intercultural relations.

And the final option is to not have it matter. But you can’t just not care, you have to commit to not caring. You have to make all fantasy “races” literally have no cultural differences or divisions at all. For this option you can make elves, orcs, goblins, and dwarves not different species, but just a type of human mutation that some people have (for the last example they literally exist in real life). Goblins don’t have to be vermin representing corruption on two legs, they can just be humans who happen to be short and have a green skin disorder due to random alchemical mutations that have passed down. There isn’t a “nation of elves” separate from The Kingdom of Men; there just happen to be businessmen, or rednecks, or fast food workers in Urban Fantasy America that check “elvish” on their medical files for blood transfusions. Think of them more like the My Hero Academia “quirks” or just have it as an aesthetic for readers, players, and other contributors to have fun with.

To my fellow sympathetic writers, don’t fall into the trap of putting too much focus on making diverse cultures and personalities for each of the species. It’s good, the “Planet of Hats” trope is boring for most of us, but it distracts from the problem. If the only representation of a religion, ethnicity, or culture is found in another species, the work is still suggesting they’re somehow biologically separate from humans, otherwise known as “normal” people. Don’t get me wrong, if you want to write Jewish Elves or Taoist Orcs, go for it, the exploration of the self through reflection of the other is great. But putting those traits only into the biological “other,” might send the wrong message. Don’t forget those differences are within each other too.

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#fantasy #fiction #writing #writing advice #writeblr #fiction blogging #worldbuilding

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anenterprises · 5 months

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The Meticulous Crafters of Indian Steatite Powders

A.N. Enterprises stands tall among Steatite Powder Manufacturers in India, crafting top-grade powders used in various industries. Steatite, a type of mineral, is finely ground into powder form for its exceptional electrical insulating properties and heat resistance. A.N. Enterprises ensure high-quality production, meeting industry standards to cater to diverse needs. This powder finds extensive use in manufacturing electrical components, ceramics, and even as a filler material. Renowned for its thermal stability and electrical insulation capabilities, A.N. Enterprises' Steatite Powder is the go-to choice for industries seeking reliability and excellence in their products.

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pegasister60 · 3 years

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Some stuff I drew for @marshmurmurs’s mcyt among us crossover!

Wonder how he gets out of this one.

#my post #my art #I speak #miners and crafters are among us #among us #mcyt #Tubbo #grian #karacorvus #crossover #implied death #implied murder #among us au #minecraft youtubers

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totally-not-an-awkward-okapi · 2 years

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As I exit the Wings of Fire community, I would like to similarly purge related art from my files. Therefore, I’d like to share the art I did of @spicyylemonss oc, Smoke, as part of a now scrapped Wings of Fire fashion post.

Further notes under the cut.

Please note, these are all confined to their presentations during times of relative peace and prosperity- the recent wars mucked a lot of stuff up. This is also just the typical- tribes mingle and have their outsiders

Hivewing fashion: Stark contrasts. Harsh metals and leathers layered with light and airy fabrics. CON. TRAST. Soft bodies with sharp features, etc. Also muscles. Female hivewings are noticeably larger than males. So, most trans hivewings will simply carry themselves differently to show this. Some however, will try to dress larger or smaller. This included a terrifying fashion movement of mask and, among richer hivewings (both cis and trans), GIANT MASKS

Icewings: Though outsiders usually assume icewing fashion starts and ends with silver jewelry, this couldn’t be further from the truth. Outside of the circles, their fashion is all about leathers, pelts, and even bone! A rich and varied cloak of furs means an established hunter and crafter. They don’t need furs to keep warm (and prefer to feel cold), but that has yet to stop them. Their makeup and tattoo practices are some of the richest on the continent. Which makes sense, given how much bare skin they have in comparison to scales. A beautiful icewing, to icewings, is one solid color with neat, sharp features. Not ostentatious. Makeup is, in fact, one of the two main ways of denoting gender among icewings. In the middle of winter, a light blush on the nose is a typical denotation of feminity for middle circle dragons. If it works for reindeer, it works for icewings. The other first circle tribe method of determining gender is the horn carving- straight for masculine, hooked for feminine, curved for non-binary.

Leafwings: Lack of access to metallic and mineral products separates leafwing fashion drastically from the other tribes. Instead, they typically enjoy plants along with animal products. Their leather workers are legendary, but outside of the obvious there is little they waste when it comes to fashion. I say “animal products” because they truly will wear anything. During the tree war a former tailor stitched insect wings into their troops' clothes as an intimidation tactic. Seemingly to spite their neutral scales and show up the beetlewings of their continent, they are outrageously colorful at even the most minor events. Scale paints and dyes are popular sights. Some older leafwings paint dark patterns onto their scales to ensure they absorb more light for a little extra energy boost. The height of leafwing beauty is soft with two-tone features. They have found a creative usage for leaf-speech to telegraph their gender identity: decorating themselves with plants which correspond to their gender (ie outcrosser male/female plants for binary or selfer/asexual plants for non-binary). Essentially using plants to give themselves a 6th sense based pronoun pin.

Mudwings: Though they are a very casual tribe, this doesn’t mean they don’t know how to get dressed up. Bog iron, teeth, manicured body moss, wood carvings, small beads, and colorful clays are all popular accessories. Generally at parties a sibling group will contribute most of their jewelry to one sib (usually whoever they have elected is prettiest, as the case varies). This usually leads to flocks of understated sibs surrounding a sib drenched in every piece of jewelry, antlers, plants, and makeup they could find. Once you move into mudwing nobility, you start getting ridiculous. Mudwings tend to be pretty flowy about what’s pretty, but vibrant, strong scales is one of the few things they seem to agree on. Due to a tendency to be rather antisocial outside of their sibs, there isn’t much of a consistent gendered presentation among mudwings. But, within closer knit mudwing communities they’ll usually use colored clay to denote gender. Usually dark for feminine and light for masculine, but it does vary. It’s not particularly well designed for outsider’s use.

Nightwings: Absolutely LOVE glass. Not even the volcano could kill that. Crystals too, but glass especially. Clear pieces that appear empty in the right light and flash in better light. Ever functional too- they still need to melt into shadows. Perhaps the stories about hivewings being the descendants of Clearsight is true, given how their beauty standard is roughly the same. Contrast is key! Nightwings don’t have any notable fashion or dimorphic differences between genders, so they will typically just announce themselves. A touch bland, but it gets the job done. One notable prophet dedicated themself to validating others through their prophecies. Also mindreaders can and will mess you up for misgendering someone on purpose and I won’t protect you.

Rainwings: They enjoy keeping their talons busy, so anything that can be braided will end up being braided. The most seaworthy seawing could never tie the sort of knots and braids rainwings have invented out of boredom. Other than flora, they will “wear” any fauna they can convince to stay on them. Sloths are popular, but so are ball pythons and other small (or very, very large) reptiles. Happy, bright colors and complicated combinations are key. Which isn’t particularly healthy but hey! Rainwings lack any set social cues for gender, so usually they just rely on their rich gossip culture to learn about other dragons. With rising literacy and inter tribe mingling, more and more rainwings will literally just spell out their pronouns over their scales.

Sandwings: The Richest fashion culture. Their very much into picking up pieces of other tribe’s fashions, but they do have some unique styles. Tattoos, for one. Though there’s no tribe that can’t be tattooed, sandwings scales take particularly well to ink. They usually go for light fabrics and pelts that can easily be discarded. They don’t enjoy flying or burrowing with anything on. Cool colored stones are popular for their contrast, and some superstition about water. (Yes, this makes Quibli a punk.) Among working sandwings, deeper scales are preferred (rich sand is always darker). The sandwing aristocracy, however, considered it the opposite- pale, unblemished scales mean you’ve never had to work a day in your life. A new Queen might finally dissuade this one, however.

Silkwings - Usually not super interested in fashion, honestly. At most they might use crystal powders to create an extra layer of glitter over their scales. They do, however, heavily engage in fashion to support others. What do I mean by this? Basically, when a silkwing develops any sort of visible disability or disfigurement, their community will rally to support them through all their means (but especially when it comes to fashion). You need something? Boom, the whole community is working out what craftspeople they need to hire. You just want support? Boom, a whole new community wide fashion movement to embrace you. It gets overwhelming very quickly, but they mean well. More colors is better, and Blue is considered very handsome. Also, colors and patterns which match the butterfly they're named for. There are some specific wing patterns associated with being male or female. Binary trans silkwings will typically paint or tattoo their chosen patterns, while non-binary silkwings typically have a preference for mixed or geometric patterns. They are also sexually dimorphic like hivewings (I wonder why?), but consider the mask thing a bit much. Which is a lot coming from the dragons who think fashion begins and ends with glitter.

#my art #the second great tag removal #headcannons

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ask-runaan-anything · 2 years

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ethari said there are some earthblood elves that live by silvergrove he said it a while back but I wanted to know what you thought of them

Earthblood elves are very predictable, if slow to make decisions. Their ways are very steady and reliable, however. I once heard that my grandfather visited an Earthblood village, and a small child gifted him a snack from a hidden cache inside a worktable. When I visited the same place a few years ago, the same tradition - and the same table - awaited me. It was very pleasant, knowing what to expect. I deeply appreciate that about most all Earthblood ways.

That said, Earthblood villages can be wildly different from one another. Sometimes I wonder how they started out so differently, with the way they enjoy remaining the same.

Nice Boulder has a fine community of crafters up in the rocky foothills. Ethari has been known to trade with them, and even to visit there.

Very Wide is home - at times - to plenty of roving herds and the Earthbloods who travel with them. The size and age of the migratory elves makes no difference - they can all outpace you. They can even outpace me, in the long run. And their runs are very, very long.

And let's just say that Muddy Wide Spot Upon Sulfurous Creek is a place one only visits for as short a time as possible, even when they have the wittiest of puns, the tastiest of root vegetables, and the purest of minerals to barter. Ethari's hair took a week to stop smelling like rotten eggs. He clutched my ponytail tightly and categorically forbade me to travel there with him, ever.

Earthblood elves are not what I would call battle-ready allies. They are far more the shield than the sword. But I have trusted them with my life, and I'm still here. Among everyone I fight to protect, my Earthblood allies rank relatively high on the list.

They also make amazing soups. Ethari's cold-weather soups are next-level because he uses Earthblood tactics in their creation. I, ah, may have accepted some thanks in the form of soup recipes once... purely for my husband's benefit, of course.

#ask runaan #runaan answers #earthblood elves #they have excellent soup #village naming conventions are on point #they do not see the fun in surprises #which i can understand actually #it's very relaxing hanging out with an earthblood elf #you might say they're very grounded

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hws-gods-au · 4 years

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Mun Information: Name: Gypty Age (You must reveal if you’re under or over 18 years at the very least): 24

Main Blog: Aph-Portuguese-of-wine

Type of AU blog (art, writing, cosplay, greek pottery, let us know): Art

What is Shiv’s favourite colour (Refer to the Rules)? Orange

Muse Information:

Name (For Gods- whatever name they had when they ascended/ a name they are formally referred to as by the other gods): Diogo

Nation/ Place being represented: Portugal

God or Human: God

Personality:

A kind of guy who is straight to the point, but is so with a relaxed personality, Highly approachable as long as you have no mean intent and will greet you as a mi casa es su casa…even though it’s a forest or something. If threatened, you will probably not be seen again but otherwise thrives on your happiness.

If a God

How did they attain godhood?:

Chicken master Divine wine crafter, worthy of the gods. Often had to make his craft and take it on the go with his travelling coup in fear of envious robbers or saboteurs…or worse, upset gods. Diogo was always half blessed and half cursed by the gods. For his wine was so valuable, it became a symbol of prestige even among gods that it gave him gifts of favours or blessings (water for crops. Minerals for plants. Sun for growth etc.) and then if a God was to become spiteful he would usually be forced to live a harsher life (no food, roving into dangerous territory, beast ruining his crops) So in short, the gods always invested themselves so much in his life they terraformed a path for him to be ascended among the gods.

What do they offer their worshippers?:

Giving a bonafide excuse to aimlessly run to the beaches and get lit. Sometimes the harvest they pray for in his name can be selected for divine offerings of high calibre, so you know, getting you on the good side of any gods you need the help of

Additional background: Don’t question the authority of his chicken. Please make it a cause for celebration when you are in his presence. He is a wine god, harvest god (comes with needing grapes for wine) God of madness to those who hate it when their labour force leaves for a good time. God of pudding…..be afraid. Keep him from silk and bacon.

Please include examples of your art/ writing/ etc. and if possible, a snippet or piece dedicated to the AU character below:

#absolute chaos #delightfull #accepted applications #submission

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rebuiltbionicle · 4 years

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Nynrah

An island in the Eastern Island Chain, home to a city of Matoran and Whovok. It was a heavily industrialised island whose inhabitants were among the finest engineers and crafters in the universe. Their skill set Nynrah up alongside Xia and Metru Nui as a trade hub and made it a focal point for local politics.

Like every other island, Nynrah’s foundations were laid by the Great Beings and built by the Matoran. Nynrah’s dome was home to an island volcano of immense size and strength, Tasulon Nui, which acted as a vent for power overloads in the GSR’s arm. Nynrah and its fellow islands therefore were not made especially habitable, and the Great Beings never expected anyone to settle there beyond a Ta-Matoran watch post who would notice if the volcano did anything unusual that might indicate a fault in the GSR’s systems.

For the first few decades of existence, Nynrah’s sole inhabitants were the villagers of a single Ta-Koro. Nynrah unfortunately was too inhospitable even for them; they couldn’t sustain themselves off the island and relying on traders to bring them resources proved unreliable. The Matoran had to develop the island somehow, and given its landscape they decided the easiest solution was underground.

A group of Onu-Matoran settlers were offered a place on the island tunneling into the rich untapped rock. The caverns they dug out were far more hospitable, allowing the Onu-Matoran to create subterranean farms safe from being choked with tephra from the volcano. The two Koro managed to make the island sustainable. The minerals the Onu-Matoran were mining also made the island able to trade for more valuable goods, but again Nynrah and its dome were precarious places for ships to traverse.

A group of Fe-Matoran crafters from an island in the next dome grew irritated by a loss of cargo from Nynrah in an eruption, and decided it was easier to move to Nynrah where they would have direct access to the resources they were importing. The Onu-Matoran prepared a cavern for them and they set up Fe-Koro, trading better tools to the Onu-Matoran in exchange. They rapidly transformed Fe-Koro from just another village underground to essentially a very small city, with metal lined halls and corridors instead of caverns and tunnels.

Nynrah was spared being a battleground between the rising Barraki, the nearest fighting being between Pridak and Mantax in the dome up north, though it was not spared from the Barraki’s conquests. It was in the line of Pridak’s southward march. The Turaga of Nynrah recommended immediate surrender to avoid destruction, though they weren’t so lucky. As Pridak’s navy entered the dome, Tasulon Nui erupted and destroyed the fleet. Despite protest, Pridak accused the Nynrah of triggering it deliberately and chose to bombard the island before landing. The Ta-Matoran were forced to abandon their village and hide underground, and multiple caves and tunnels collapsed. Pridak’s forces then took the island without further incident.

Under Pridak’s Kingdom and eventually the League of Six Kingdoms, Nynrah was made into one of Pridak’s main mining colonies. The protodermis extracted by the Matoran was shipped to Xia for arms manufacture. The governor Pridak put in charge of Nynrah was a Whovok lieutenant of his from up north. The Governor brought many of his own kind to Nynrah and started a colony. These were more along the lines of forced relocations, so the Matoran did not view any Whovok but the Governor as invaders. Though made to churn out resources, Nynrah did benefit from increased infrastructure invested by Pridak to keep the mine operational. A team of Toa was also assigned to the island for its protection.

After the Barraki’s disappearance and the League’s splintering, the Whovok governor fancied himself a potential successor for Pridak, though he was conquered by another lesser barraki from the south. The Toa Nynrah, returning from participating in the Assault of Hagah Nui, dislodged the League Remnants from Nynrah and won its independence back. Post-League Nynrah now had a dedicated mining industry but no masters forcing their hand in who they distributed to. They were a target for warlord held lands that had little resources of their own, but the Toa and Nynrah’s natural fortified geography prevented any takeovers.

The Fe-Matoran, now free of the League ordering them about, began to go back to their crafting, now with additional resources from the expanded mine. The Whovok took interest in their craft and joined them. This caused an economic shift in Nynrah from mining facility to self-sustain manufacturing. Though initially only in it for the art, the Nynrah began trading excess machinery to other islands for resources they couldn’t procure themselves. Trading increased until Nynrah became the manufacturing hub for the region. Additional Matoran were invited to the island to aid in the manufacturing. Many came from the elements already inhabiting the island, and more elements of the construction kind joined as well, topping the island up with Po, Su, and Vo-Matoran.

Nynrah developed into an island factory and entered a golden age of economic development. Their architecture improved to be impervious to the quakes of Tasulon Nui’s eruptions. They developed special armoured ships that could withstand turbulent seas and battering of ejecta, and further developed a special variant of these ships that could carry other conventional ships and airships across the dome’s water to the neighbouring domes. Underground farming became insufficient to feed the Nynrah, so its primary import became food again. They experimented with machinery to preform fishing for themselves, but were not experts in marine ecology and didn’t want to disturb the environment too badly. Ga-Matoran were uninterested in immigrating to Nynrah.

After the Metru Nui Civil War, Makuta Tridax was assigned to watch over Nynrah. Tridax found the developing island fascinating and often commissioned work from them to get resources separate from the general Brotherhood suppliers, though eventually they let the other Makuta know about Nynrah and it became one of the Brotherhood’s key suppliers.

Nynrah reached out to its neighbouring islands, Krokau and Skaal, and provided their resources to help them survive easier in the ashy wastelands. The islands formed a cooperation agreement called the Tasulon Pact, putting Krokau and Skaal as priority to receive Nynrah resources. This did not impact Nynrah’s ability to trade to other islands due to their high output. This pact would later extend to other islands in neighbouring domes, until it expanded into the East Matoran Trade Guild.

Under the terms set by the Guild to prevent Nynrah from becoming a corporate empire, shipping was provided by other Guild members. The practical upshot of which was that few outsiders interacted with Nynrah directly, and those that chose to visit Nynrah were greeted with what appeared to be a desolate and barren island. This led to a few rumours, such as Nynrah being a cover story for some reason, or that the Nynrah were inhabited by ghosts. The latter reached Nynrah at a point of social contention. The original Fe-Matoran crafters were growing disillusioned mass-production and were beginning to isolate themselves in their workshops to focus on invention as an art, though still occasionally accepting commissions and releasing designs for mass production. The Matoran of the factories began referring to them as ghosts due to their reclusive attitude. The Fe-Matoran chose to ignore the insult and willingly called themselves the Nynrah Ghosts. It soon became a sort of trademark.

When the Makuta for whatever reason metamorphosed into vaporous lifeforms, Tridax suggested that they seek the aid of the Nynrah Ghosts. The practical benefit being that while the Vortixx of Xia would price-gouge the Brotherhood for such vital work, the gift-economy of the Matoran would work out of sympathy for the Makuta’s plight. They spent several months working on the design but were finally able to create modular suits of armour that had the ability to shapeshift alongside the Makuta. Given the armour’s vulnerability to elemental Iron users, the Toa Nynrah of Iron met with a terrible accident arranged by the Makuta, while Tridax’s embassy would watch over the island to ensure none of the Fe-Matoran would become Toa. This signaled the beginning of the Toa Downfall. The Dark Hunters, under Brotherhood contracts and their own initiative, killed the remaining Toa Nynrah.

Without their protectors, the Nynrah began considering alternatives. Toa Stones were unavailable. A group of the Nynrah Ghosts began a form of biological experimentation to transform a select Matoran into a pseudo-Toa. The experiment was considered highly unethical and the Mayor of Nynrah had those involved expelled (and would end up on Xia still operating under the Nynrah Ghost title), while their experiment would disappear. The Nynrah ultimately settled on robotic protectors, attempting to emulate the fighting prowess of the Exo-Toa of Xian manufacture.

The creation of the Visorak and the destruction of the island of which they were born sent waves of refugees searching for new homes. Nynrah opened itself to accept them, though only a few Vo-Matoran were willing to stay. Others moved to closer neighbouring islands, or further beyond. Nynrah provided many free ships to transport them.

When the Brotherhood of Makuta gave them salvaged Bohrok and requested a mass-produced legion of them, the Nynrah accepted the contract. Unlike Xia, Nynrah only created armaments for clients they felt were reputable. Unfortunately, they weren’t privy to the Makuta’s betrayal of Mata Nui. There was still however concern about the manufacture of fighting machines on such a large scale. Their concerns were largely assuaged by assurances by the Makuta that they would be used for clean up, sterilisation, and demolition rather than war. Not all were convinced, and a small group of them placed a failsafe into the facsimile Bohrok that would turn them against the Brotherhood if they were used for warlike ends. These failsafes were triggered very early, causing a rampage on Destral. Makuta Teridax desired immediate vengeance on Nynrah, but Tridax talked them down into a more subtle approach. The Nynrah were kept in the dark about the Bohrok rampage, and during some factory inspection tours Tridax slowly isolated those responsible and arranged some lethal accidents for them. The bulk of the Nynrah were in the dark about it and assumed the Brotherhood were another satisfied customer.

The faith held in the Brotherhood by the Nynrah come in use during the Great Cataclysm. Though Nynrah’s city was reinforced to resist the quakes of Tasulon Nui’s eruptions, the Great Cataclysm was on a scale that shattered through the city’s foundations and caused mass collapses (which may, or may not, have been sabotage on Tridax’s part), as well as cut off power from Metru Nui. The Brotherhood “in return for their services” offered immediate relief to the island and helped them rebuild the city and villages. This was a pretense to take over the island and keep a occupying garrison of soldiers there. The Nynrah, initially, didn’t mind. The island was back on its feet long before any of its neighbours, and they immediately wanted to get to work sending relief throughout the East Matoran Trade Guild. The Makuta promised they would handle it and took control of all Nynrah exports, which were used to increase the Brotherhood’s grip over the universe.

Despite Tridax’s best efforts, the Dark Hunter’s revelation about the Brotherhood’s lordship of the Visorak and the contracts on Toa reached Nynrah. Upon learning that the Brotherhood was responsible for their own Toa’s deaths, the Nynrah protested against the Brotherhood presence on the island. They were dispersed by the Brotherhood guards, but returned as a riot. Tridax was forced to bring in a full legion to suppress and occupy the island. The island’s factory would be made to explicitly serve the Brotherhood.

Nynrah would remain a Brotherhood vassal until Order of Mata Nui revealed itself and went to war with the Makuta. Several attempts were made to dislodge the Brotherhood from the island, but the Nynrah City’s nature was an underground fortress was now working against it. Eventually a force of volunteer revolutionaries from the newly liberated islands of the East Matoran Trade Guild rallied with the Order’s army to liberate their compatriot land, and through a perilous struggle and a Nynrah uprising behind the lines were able to dislodge the Makuta’s forces. The island began manufacture again, with the intent of aiding the war against the Brotherhood.

This all came to nothing with the Reign of Shadows. With all the manufacture they could possibly need done by Metru Nui, the Makuta found Nynrah not only superfluous but threatening. A hefty force of Rahkshi and Skakdi arrived to help the Nynrah evacuate their island on the Makuta’s orders. The island was emptied and the subterranean city destroyed to do away with any stragglers. The Nynrah were redistributed across the universe, and the island itself became an outpost for the Makuta’s servants, both monitoring shipping and the original island purpose of observing Tasulon Nui for irregularities. Some resistance cells were able to sneak on the island and hide within the ruins of the underground city.

The Great Evacuation needed no cooperation from Nynrah, as it was already mostly deserted. The island would eventually be dismantled by the Matoran along with the rest of the universe.

...

Nynrah, at the most basic level, was little more than a rock floating in the sea. Its landscape was desolate and dominated by large rock formations and mountains, was well as canyons. It was vaguely crescent shaped, with steep cliffsides along the outside of the crescent and gravelly beaches along the inside. The island’s proximity to Tasulon Nui and its constant eruptions had several consequences for Nynrah. Firstly, the ash constantly in the sky kept the lighting of the entire dome dim at best. Secondly, the surface of Nynrah was constantly covered in a thick layer of ash. Though volcanic ash is good fertiliser, no plant could grow without being smothered to death despite the Matoran’s best efforts. Ash fertiliser became one of Nynrah’s exports. In addition to ash, Nynrah’s surface was frequently pelted with volcanic bombs from Tasulon Nui’s more violent eruptions. Water ran down through the canyons from the mountains, carrying a great deal of ash with it as an unpleasant slurry. Rahi life was scarce, and composed largely of seabound animals that come up on land to rest, such as birds, turtles, and seals.

Some had come to see Nynrah as an Onu-Wahi due to its expansive underground, though these tunnels did not exist before Onu-Matoran settlement. Since then they have carved out a series of tunnels for both habitation and for mining. One of these was settled by Fe-Matoran and over the centuries was built up and expanded into a subterranean metropolis. The city was divided into several districts, from the industrial sector to various residential districts to the parks and the community offices. The city notably different from its Xian equivalent in which workers were not required to live inside one giant factory; the Nynrah had plenty to do and see outside of the factory they worked at. The city was inhabited by far more than just the cave-loving Onu-Matoran, so it was designed with wide open spaces like the interior of a palace to make the other inhabitants feel at ease inside.

The primary inhabitants of Nynrah were Matoran. Initially this was just a village of Ta-Matoran living in a singular Ta-Koro on the western coast of the island. The Koro was made of dried clay, and they were always keeping Tasulon Nui in view. They would watch the eruptions like fireworks, though with the added caution over lava bombs. Ta-Matoran would later work the forges in the factory, but the surface villlage always remained. They invited a group of Onu-Matoran who made their homes in the mines they would dig out. Few went to work in the factory city when it was constructed, continuing to live in an independent Onu-Koro above the mines. The next settlers were a group of Fe-Matoran, whose Fe-Koro became the nucleus of the city. The island developed around their craft, though they grew tried of the factory and created a new “Fe-Koro” district of the city as a private district of private invention and engineering. The Fe-Matoran who went into isolation like that became known as the Nynrah Ghosts.

A colony of Whovok also lived on the island. They took up the crafting nature of the Fe-Matoran and became quite proficient at it. Their presence caused the Matoran to rethink their architecture to accommodate the Whovok’s height. The Whovok participated in most walks of Nynrah life, working in the factory, the mine, and everything else that needed to be done. They could sense they were outsiders and did their best to intergrate themselves with the Matoran. The Matoran were welcoming; they’re not xenophobes by nature. Some Whovok did however keep living on their own in the initial colony.

A few more tribes of Matoran settled after the economic expansion of the island. Po-Matoran were invited to do the menial labour in the factory, Su-Matoran to work in the metalworking and welding too hot for the Ta-Matoran to handle, and Vo-Matoran were welcomed to help with the city’s overcomplicated electrical grid and to help in the construction of electonics. Members of each of these Matoran elements would grow tired of the factory and would create their own rural Koro in the caves carved out for them by the Onu-Matoran, or on the surface if they felt like facing the ash.

Despite common misconceptions, the island was not ruled by the Nynrah Ghosts. Each group had its own Turaga or elder to advise their generally leaderless communal living. For issues that required island wide policy making there was an elected council of Nynrah, composed of a member of each village and each district of the city. Leading the council was the Mayor of Nynrah. Their powers were limited, since as a Matoran society they were mostly an autonomous collective.

#bionicle #bionicle rebuilt #locations

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sepublic · 5 years

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Marn Caverns

A series of tunnels set in a web-shaped pattern deep below the surface, the Marn Caverns house the underground population of the Region of Earth, protected by the land of the region itself from Skull Spiders, whose bladed instruments make poor digging tools.

Located hundreds of feet beneath the surface, miles from the Papa Nihu Reef, the main access point to the Marn Caverns is a single, heavily-fortified entry and exit, Marn’s only one, known as the Lighthouse; A massive tower of indestructible metal, with an additional circular grate on top from which defenders can fire at Skull Spiders below from, with the swarms unable to pierce the sides of the tower and thus having to rely on unconventional means of climbing. Atop the Lighthouse is its aptly-named Light, which is coded to give off different color-based signals to the Gukko Airforce, indicating various situations, including Skull Spider attacks and even a take-over (Because of this, the control panel for the light is located deep within the caverns).

A central elevator connects to the focal point cave of the Marn Caverns, which is the last line of defense against Skull Spiders and meant to be blocked off in said emergencies. Branching off from this focal point are tunnels leading to several supersized caverns supported by massive pillars, housing the main homes of the Marn inhabitants, and lit by Lightstones, crystals that emit light when in contact with a particular metal. These neighborhood caverns hold the homes of the Marn people, most of them made from metal or other materials found in the Region of Earth.

The caverns are linked by another ring of connecting tunnels, and from there, more caverns branch off, making a map of the Marn Caverns resemble a web- Aptly named the Spider Web by outsiders. Most of these caverns serve a specific purpose- In this case, near the fringes of the Marn tunnel network, or even near the bottom of hollowed-out pits, several mines have been established. These mines directly dig into the Region of Earth’s soil and access its treasures, from ores to other minerals, making the Marn Caverns the most reliable source for Okotans regarding such materials.

Mines are typically built as the outer-most caverns, stabilized by support beams, and after being harvested clean of their resources are abandoned, with new caverns then built beyond the used mines to access more mineral veins. These abandoned mines are often repurposed, as ordained by Korgot, current Protector of Earth. Some mines consist not of tunnels from which materials are harvested from the walls, but occasionally pits dug right into the bedrock of Marn.

Although most of what Marn collects (including water from aquifers, as well as oil and Lightstones) is a necessity, many Marners (a name that splices the term Miner and Marn together) collect buried gems to process and sell to the rest of Okoto, and occasionally Korgot will even give a deed to a group of Okotans to dig into a certain plot of underground land for themselves to use.

For food and water, most Marners subsist on underground insects and earthworms, with some species seen as a delicacy. Otherwise, they thrive on fungi and underground plants that lack a need of sunlight (and are tended to by Okotan and Ussal manure), or else imports from the Gukko Airforce. Water comes from an underground river, which runs through one of the caverns. The entry and exit-points of this river are walled off by impenetrable grates, in case Skull Spiders access the river on either end to breach Marn. To keep the caverns ventilated, a complex ventilation system carries carbon-dioxide out of Marn through the Lighthouse, which also pulls in oxygen from the surface.

The cramped space of Marn has led to a strict control of its resources by the Military-Industrial Complex headed by Korgot. This careful distribution has taught many Marners to make do with what little they have, an ingenuity and resourcefulness that, when combined with a plethora of ores to work with, has led to Marn becoming the industrial center of engineering in Okoto.

In the caverns dubbed the ‘Brains of Okoto’, many engineers, often led by Chief Engineer Nuparu, work with the materials they are given to design various, complex technologies, either for defense against Skull Spiders, or other, more mundane means. Hi-tech mining tools or complex weaponry are manufactured in Marn, and either used or shipped off by the Gukko Airforce. Designs are tested and implemented, and blueprints drawn, sometimes from schematics and analyzed technologies from the Creation Age. The power for these inventions usually comes from the dam built over the underground river, or else mined oil.

For Marners, you are usually either a miner, or else an inventor. To the people of Marn, the virtue of stamina is valued- Endurance is needed in the tedious process of digging, the constant trial and error of inventing, and the agonizing confinement in the underground. Many Marners are taught and learn to be patient, to endure, and to make do with what they have. Patience is especially valued, as many note that the cramped caverns slowly but surely expand indefinitely, a growth none of the other Mega Villages have- In time, the waiting will pay off, and since a few generations ago it has begun to, with Marn becoming the most spacious Mega Village.

The people of Marn are headed and controlled by a Military-Industrial Complex that operates on Martial Law and is led by Korgot. This strict complex oversees and regulates most of Marn, from the uses of its Ussal Crab labor force, to the work schedule and tasks of most Marners. Rations are carefully distributed based on need, with luxury having to be bought or earned. Due to the underground nature, many are unused to the concept of night and day, leading to a mandatory set of curfews and shifts for workers that is dictated by the number of Lightstones that are lit on the walls. Everyone usually has a designated purpose, with the exception of the incapacitated, elderly, young, etc.

Many Okotans make their home in the cramped, but ever-growing, Marn Caverns. Among them is Dosne, Mining Captain and overseer of the primary Mining operations. While not the strongest miner, Dosne has a natural endurance and patience that has allowed him to stay awake for days on end, directing and overseeing mining efforts. Dosne likewise seems to have a natural feel for the earth, and is well-situated on the signs of materials for the miners to access and harvest. From time to time, while patrolling the mines, Dosne will even step in to personally help, usually taking the shovel or pick-axe from the most tired and/or hardest worker. Currently, Dosne is overseeing an ambitious project to connect the Mega Villages through underground tunnels, a project that could improve Okotan infrastructure and travel on a massive level.

Aiyetoro is one of many small-name, yet appreciated miners. Calloused from years of work, he tends dutifully to his work, occasionally taking a sample home to keep or else carve into something else, with many joking that he is part-Levan because of this. His main hobby, however, is collecting fossils that are discovered by Prospectors, and he hopes to become one, even if it means using his luxury time to become one- As far as Aiyetoro is concerned, prospecting IS a luxury. He also has a minor issue of getting out of bed, which his husband has to deal with.

Taipu is one of strongest and most reliable miners in Marn, although he makes up for these virtues in a general gullibility and naivety that has been preyed upon by his friend Onepu. Nevertheless, Taipu’s loyalty to Marn and his humble goals make him a friend to all in Marn, and his massive strength allows him to plow through rock, although he is sometimes hindered by a clumsiness. Taipu works hard day and night, usually resisting sleep, and endures, even taking jobs for others (or else convinced into doing so by Onepu), and is always the last miner to leave for the end of his shift. Sometimes, Taipu will keep mining to the point of collapsing, but once he revives, he’ll insist on heading right back to work. Taipu has a natural faith in Korgot’s leadership, making him a surprising confidant of hers.

Mamru is the Chief Prospector, overseeing the mining and processing of more luxurious materials. Mamru has a certain intuition and occasional superstition, operating on a strange set of rules and principles for deeming certain parts of the earth as having certain materials. Oddly enough, these predictions (as well as more orthodox measurements) have been notably accurate, but nobody complains. Mamru’s skill also allows her to also spot veins of more luxurious materials, which she either has officially mined and sold by the Military-Industry to fund other projects, or else deeded off to others for their own personal benefit. Mamru has a secret hobby of trying on various jewelry made in the tunnels of Marn, but she does this only at home.

Azibo is a local, self-owned prospector in Marn. Having earned a deed to a precious vein of quartz following a lifetime of dedicated mining, he now oversees his private mine, where quartz and other gems are harvested and later processed, either by himself or others, to then be sold on the market, either in Marn or elsewhere through Zemya. Azibo has a deep knowledge of gemology and its spiritual meanings, believing them very much to be true. Azibo’s grandchildren are envied, as they are often given the extravagant gifts of jewelry mined straight from Azibo’s deeded veins.

Akamu is a Jewelry-Crafter and worker, often hired by Azibo to make products out of the gems he’s harvested. Otherwise, he is a blacksmith, an occupation usually left to those in Tawahi, although some engineers require immediately processed ores, thus forcing people such as himself to step in. Despite holding two jobs at once (with his smithing being mandatory), Akamu’s love of his jewelry craft has led him to hold onto it, at the expense of most of his sleep. Many across Okoto clamor for Akamu’s jewelry, and he has been invited to Levato on multiple occasions to collaborate on art, or asked by other Mega Villages to do local projects for them. Akamu’s favorite type of gem is either Nephrite or Peridotite.

Zemya is the local trader and a suave businessman, usually buying luxury goods from Marn and selling them off for goods from elsewhere. A charismatic extrovert, Zemya knows everyone, and usually what they want, sometimes going from door-to-door selling certain items. Zemya usually trades and bargains by haggling, of which he is a talented fan of, and he is said to have once convinced someone to give him several jewels in exchange for a single fruit, or even bought several paintings and carvings for a mere few pints of oil. Despite his sleazy nature, Zemya still has a heart, and every Naming Day he thanks all the people of Marn –even if they didn’t necessarily trade with him- by acquiring individual, specific gifts for each Marner. Zemya additionally has a nose for precious materials, leading to a humbling experience that Korgot had to rescue him from.

Luola helps overlook and tend to the underground river running through Marn. Always making sure the water is fresh and clean (and keeping an eye out for Skull Spiders), Luola helps operate the dam, and when there’s not much else to do, helps deliver water to the local fountains. As a side business, Luola runs a Mud bath spa, using water, dirt, and minerals she’s collected to prepare exfoliating baths, some free of charge for exhausted miners or Gukko Airforce members. Onepu in particular loves the Harvest package that she offers.

The Marn Ussalry is a cavalry of Okotans that tend to and ride the Ussal Crabs, massive, docile creatures that assist in the general manual labor of life. Their work is usually raising Ussal Crabs, taming them, and overseeing their work and making sure they are taken care of. Otherwise, however, the Ussalry is also responsible for military efforts and the defense of Marn, riding on the Crabs as transport and using them to scale the rocky surface of the Region of Earth. Ussals are sometimes sold off to be the pets of others, and people will get together to race crabs or ride atop them in the Marn variant of Kolhii.

The Ussalry is led by Captain Onepu, an ambitious and vain Ussal rider who, while brave and virtuous, has a tendency to try and shirk off work, as well as boast of her accomplishments. A five-time winner of the Great Ussal Race with her favorite crab, Pewku, Onepu leads the Ussalry in training regiments, rehearsing tactics and drill, making her one of Korgot’s trusted and effective commanders. When not leading Ussalry campaigns against the Skull Spider threat, Onepu prefers to practice in Ussal Racing and Kolhii, challenging others to the sport. Otherwise, she tries out jewelry given to her by her grandfather Azibo, and other fashions. She is never seen without her signature purple cape, which she adores, only taking it off for mining.

Damek is another member of the Ussalry, frequently patrolling the top of the Lighthouse. In the event of a Skull Spider attack, Damek rushes around the perimeter of the Lighthouse, using her hi-tech laser sniper rifle to pick off targets from a distance. Damek has some pride in being a sharpshooter, and rumor has it that she sometimes sleeps with her rifle as if it’s a Teddy Bear. In her spare time, she practices her aim, usually at the arcade, and Damek has the habit of sleepwalking. She can also see surprisingly well in the dark.

Kaj is a guard and an Ussalry member. When not running drill under Onepu’s guidance, Kaj patrols around Marn to ensure that everything is okay, checking the place all-over for signs of an attempted Skull Spider breach. As a result, he is one of the last lines of defense for Marn, and he helps operate the Lighthouse, occasionally pressing the button to change its color signal. When not on patrol, Kaj is also a toymaker, using his knowledge of engineering to craft complex devices meant to entertain, which he sells either at his shop or to Zemya. He is one of the few people who can bargain with Zemya, and a frequent customer of his.

Midak is a guard on the Lighthouse and operator of its elevator. Although a member of the Ussalry, he doesn’t ride one of the crabs, usually tending to them after leaving his Lighthouse shift, and makes an extra living selling off young pet crabs to those willing to buy, always having tips on how to treat one’s Ussal. Otherwise, Midak prefers to spend his time aboveground on the surface, having an appreciation of light in general from its warmth and brightness, and willing to talk to those with his interest in it- Those people usually being nobody, save for occasionally Zemya. Midak’s appreciation of light and the way it looks has led him to collect an assortment of Lightstones of various colors, especially rare ones, which adorn his home. Midak dreams of exploring the surface and sunbathing in as many places as he can, escaping the general gloom of the Region of Earth’s surface.

Nuparu is the Chief Engineer of Marn and head of its engineering division, sometimes cited as THE Brain of Okoto, a title he doesn’t particularly care for. Eccentric and always up to his nose in projects, Nuparu will hole himself in his workplace for days on end, devising many brilliant, and occasionally insane, ideas and machinations to test out, with Nuparu believing firmly in the quality of his designs. Although some of his ideas have been questionable (such as the infamous and touchy subject of the Squid Launcher), Nuparu’s unquestionable creativity has led him to design some of the best machines and weapons in all of Okoto. Nuparu has a natural resourcefulness, working with everything and anything he has, and his crazed hair has only contributed to the image of him as a mad scientist- Not that he denies such an idea, either.

Mavrah is another member of Marn team of engineers, and frequent collaborator with Nuparu on hi-tech defenses for the Mega Villages, as well as maintenance of them. A bit of a Paleontologist, Mavrah studies animals, using the unique anatomies of some (such as the Muaka and its neck) to inspire some of his designs. Like many before him, Mavrah has proposed trying to tame the more powerful beasts of Okoto, in the hopes of using them against the Skull Spiders, as they can’t be controlled and are generally hardier than the average soldier.

However, his efforts to tame them have failed, like those before him, but Mavrah continues to see the creatures of Okoto as the key to victory against the Skull Spiders, and refuses to give up. With Nuparu, Mavrah will, on the rare time that they take a break, help design amusement rides for the people of Marn, and even ride on a few before vomiting from nausea.

Nobua is another one of the ‘Brains of Okoto’, although her true passion is entertainment. Utilizing ancient, recovered schematics from the Creation Age, as well as her own personal inspiration, she is one of many in Marn who has designed animatronics, complex rides, and various other attractions that keep the villagers entertained and delighted. As a side-job, she frequently visits the arcade, helping perform maintenance on the games and even devising a few of her own.

#bionicle #bionicle g2 #Bionicle RaE #korgot #nuparu #onepu #taipu #ussal #mavrah #world building #lore #fanon

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yeskama · 4 years

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Prologue Draft: A Tale of Sorcery II: Dance of the Dark Dragon

The following is an unfinished draft of the prologue chapter for my next fanfic. Some pieces might make it to the final draft but I’m pretty sure most of it’s gonna end up nuked. Figured I’d share it before that happens...

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In the southwestern regions of Augustus, 25 miles from the Solidere border, the Fortress City of Delacroix stands vigil. Considered a feat of human ingenuity, she was constructed during the peak of the Agustian Empire, encompassing over 40,000 square meters of the Great Southern Lake. The steel walls surrounding her reach up to 200 feet, while her tallest towers peak at 400. Built on a solitary island, four great bridges provide entry to the mainland, each located at a cardinal point and underneath her foundations, a vast underground mining complex extracts the valued minerals of the earth. Surrounding the city are ten great spires that defend her from any act of war, be they magic, artillery or otherwise. This resilience has always been the city’s greatest boon. Indeed, the Dark Kingdom only succeeded in conquering the city by starving her citizens out. Even then, it took 2 and half years to accomplish Her accolades however don’t end there...

Behind her walls reside the finest tradesmen, crafters and scholars known worldwide. Delacroix’s Shining Star Academy has produced many great magi throughout the centuries, notably Archmage Noah. Her citizens are not only a proud and hardy people but also hospitable. The city boasts the largest demi-human and elf populations in Augustus. The Great Cathedral of Aime not only administers the Ten’s watchful eyes, but even permits other faiths to provide for their pilgrims. All these feats however will never wash away the city’s greatest shame. For it was here, six centuries ago, Lilith was sired. The very woman whose son brought the entire continent to its knees, was at a time, one of her beloved citizens...

Since it’s liberation, the governing body of Delacroix has served her Augustian masters for the past 406 years. The road between her and the capital has long been dubbed “The Golden Road” for its consistently safe conditions. For years, the gates of Delacroix stood open for all...

Now?

Her drawbridges are raised, her waters play host to dangerous beasts, and her citizens have boarded themselves within, sword and staff ready. Cannons line her walls while wyverns dominate her skies. Amongst the rolling hills of the mainland, Legion tents dot the landscape with artillery directed at the city. Bending to the banners of golden flame, the north and west bleed red, whilst across the lake, banners of the white horse stand firm as the lands bleed blue. The time is 11 at dawn and here, situated among the hills of red, two men ready their charges for afternoon drills...

“Recruit-man Lyon!” “Captain Lagnus, sir!” “You are holding your weapon incorrectly, recruit-man...” Unsheathing his own blade, he proceeds to explain. “You want your main hand resting near the guard and your off hand near the pommel. That way you have proper balance. Clutching with the hands together lessens your control...” “Thank you, sir! I will keep that in mind from now on!”

Sheathing his blade, he just gave the lad a reassuring smile and went on his way. T’was a common mistake, especially amongst enlisted civilians. After examining a few more fresh faces, Lagnus found himself staring into the clear blue sky as sweat tricked down his face.

Though the humidity had lessened since yesterday, the summer's heat was still strong. Truth be told. Lagnus himself wasn’t exactly dressed for the occasion. A man of 23 years with jet black hair and brown eyes, he had served in the Legion for six years now. A commissioned officer, he wore a standard Legion armor set but with a slight personal touch. He had it gilded to reflect his proficiency with light magic (a rather difficult element to master amongst magi) with a blue bodysuit, brown gloves and a gold circlet. Finishing the ensemble was a red cape, bearing the sigil of a gold flame on its back, reflecting the House he served under. While he looked regal in it, truthfully, it was like a mini torture cell! He wanted nothing more but to remove it but doing so would undermine his authority, or so he believed. Wiping his head, he made his way toward one of the nearby canopies wherein he took to the comfort of water, chugging away without abandon. With his thirst quenched, he sighed in delight and took a seat. T’was then another man took to the canopy, the one instructing the magi...

“Hot, Captain?” He greeted him. Lagnus just shook his head. “I can manage, my lord...” The man merely smirked as he went for a bottle of water. “I somehow doubt that...” He answered dryly

Albus Vanthe Amherst was his name and at just 17 years, his reputation preceded him. Captain of the Legion Magi Corps and heir to one of the five great noble families of Augustus. Lagnus was familiar with the stories...a generational prodigy they call him. He graduated the Augustus Magi Academy at 12, enrolled in the Severin Legion Academy at 13 before graduating a year later and quickly soaring through the ranks. It took Lagnus six years to claw his way up to Captain, a feat which Albus accomplished in four. An impressive accomplishment indeed and Lagnus was inclined to give him the benefit of the doubt...

...if not for that last name.

He had seen it before, hayseeds elevated through the ranks all on the merits of their family names. Being an orphan, Lagnus did not possess the luxury of a last name, though he was well on his way toward earning one. Regardless, it just left a sour taste in his mouth. His appearance did nothing to dissuade this notion. A face so immaculately crafted, you’d mistake it for a king’s, with piercing emerald eyes and long flowing scarlet hair. His current attire consisted of a black unbuttoned long coat with matching pants and boots, all of which had some manner of gold trimmings. Only the shirt he wore broke the trend, being a plain red in color. Clearly ill-dressed himself for the season, not that it mattered to Lagnus. He was more preoccupied with warding off the heat than anything...

“Done with your charges?” The noble asked. Lagnus nodded. “Indeed. Yourself my lord?” Albus just nodded before reaching into one of his pockets. Pulling out a bag of peanuts, he offered. “Snack?”

Eh, why not?

Rising from his seat, Lagnus stood next to the mage as the two of them picked at the bag. He hadn’t had salted peanuts since he was a boy and had long forgotten the taste. Rough and tangy but still tastey! Unfortunately, they prompted more water down the throat (the wonders of salt). As the two ate, they both looked ominously on the city. Five months have passed since Delacroix declared for independence and so far...nothing. Just what was going on in there?

“May if I inquire about something, Captain?” Albus asked “Go ahead.” “Why are you here?” Lagnus looked at the mage confused. What prompted him to ask such a thing? “What else? To do my duty. The city has rebelled against the crown. Such actions cannot be abided...” “If memory serves me correctly, did you not once call this city home?” He matched eyes with the knight. “When those drawbridges come down, rest assured, things will turn ugly. If that comes to pass...can you bring it upon yourself to draw your sword on your own neighbors?” Lagnus returned his gaze toward the city, “When we joined the Legion, we made a pledge to his majesty. A knight who cannot stay true to his word cannot be called a knight...” Albus let out a soft chuckle upon hearing this... “My friend...you are not a knight...” Lagnus just flashed a brief smile as he went for some more peanuts. “Give it time, my lord.”

It was around this time a figure ascended the hill on horseback. His face concealed by , he was on horseback and had three prisoners in tow, bound by rope and their faces concealed by sacks. One was an adult woman wearing a red maid outfit. Lagnus was well aware of its significance, only those serving one of Delacroix’s governing families wore red. The other two were just children, a boy and a girl. Arriving before the canopy, the shrouded figure dismounted and knelt before them...

“Sir Lagnus, Lord Albus...I have fulfilled my task...” Albus applauded the man as he rose to his feet. “So I see! Well done good sir! Let us meet with uncle, I'm sure he’ll find these arrivals most pleasing...”

Amherst command took up residence in a quaint tent near the lakeside. Inside, sigils of the golden flame stood proud whilst men and women of scarlet (or blonde) hair and green eyes seated themselves before a long table. Food and wine took residence upon its fine surface while its masters discussed strategy, charted maps and schemed against their political enemies. Situated in the back and installed on the most decorated seat was the Lord Victor Penton Amherst, current head of House Amherst, chief advisor to his royal highness and, both figurative and literally, the most powerful man in camp.

Of course, upon first impressions, one would hardly come to such a conclusion. A man of 55 years, Victor had already gone through three wives and sired six children, only one of which, survived to this day. At a mere 5 feet, he looked like an ant seated amongst giants, though none dared to make such a jest. His scarlet hair, now lessening and brushed backward, had dulled to the that of light ginger. This extended to the thick goatee he grew to mask his weathering features. The parts of his face visible were suitably worn, highlighting his high cheekbones and the creases under his eyes, which like the rest of his family, were a deep emerald in color. Whilst his present company were outfitted in decorative raiment, Victor settled on a simple black leather doublet, with matching pants and boot. Situated on his lap and was the Amherst family heirloom, a great tome bearing the family’s ancestral sigil, a golden flame over a red field. The tome itself bore the family’s greatest creation; a magic spell forged from over 200 years of generational knowledge...

Hellfire

Whilst the others squabbled amongst themselves, Lord Victor kept silent, his attention focused on a letter addressed from his majesty. A solemn man, he was not one for small talk, only speaking when he deemed it necessary. Only Albus’s arrival would pry him away from the whims of his king...

“Lord Uncle!” He shouted over the ruckus. Upon the declaration, the whole tent immediately went quiet. Raising his head up, he watched as his nephew hurried to his side.

“What is it Albus?” he asked. Contrary to Lord Victor’s size, his voice was deep and strong. “Have there been any new developments from the city?” Albus just smiled and shook his head. “Afraid not, my lord. But we have procured some...bargaining chips.” Signaling to the entrance of the tent, he shouted...

“Bring them in!”

Lagnus escorted the bound maid while the cloaked figure gently prompted the children in. All eyes were on the pair as they unmasked the captives. The maid was a young woman with short blonde hair and blue eyes, probably in her early to mid 20’s. Her eyes bore a tremendous fury toward the tent’s occupants though she stayed her tongue. Lagnus maintained his composure but was quite dismayed by her unveiling...

For he knew this woman...

Thankfully t’was not the maid the Amhersts were interested In. Rather, their attention was focused on the children. A delicate looking pair for sure, certainly no older than 8. Both bore eyes of red, hair of orange and were outfitted in sleepwear typically reserved for the upper-class. These factors lead little doubt concerning their identities. Like the maid, their mouths remained silent but instead of fury in their eyes, terror took front stage. This fear intensified as the short man in black approached them, his great red tome tucked under his left arm. Kneeling down to the boy, he gently grabbed the lad’s chin and studied. The boy, whose eyes were tightly shut, began to cry...

“Open your eyes boy!” The man asked sternly.

He did as asked and was instantly met by the man’s emerald gaze. He stared intently before breaking his gaze and looking up to the Shrouded Man, who’s head bowed in respect.

“There is no mistaking it. This is indeed Lord Ville’s son...”

Raising to his feet, he ordered all present save his nephew, Lagnus and the shrouded man to leave. Once the tent was emptied, he gave the order to a nearby sentry to escort the children to one of the prisoner’s tents and double camp security. He was taking no chances. As the children left the tent, the shrouded figure snapped his fingers and suddenly, their tears and sniffles were now audible. The display brought a rare smirk to Lord Victor. A silence incantation? Very clever indeed...

“Remove those rags and rest yourself. You’ve more than earned it...”

The figure did as commanded and discarded his concealments, revealing a young man with short chestnut brown hair and piercing brown eyes. Seating himself at the table, he proceeded picking at the ham as Lord Victor wandered over to the maid, eyeing her curiously...

“Who is this?”

The brown-haired youth looked upward and responded, “A servant who got a bit too nosy for her own good...” The cup now full, he took a quick swig and continued, “Give her credit, she was the only one in the Ville household that didn’t buy my story...” Breaking eye contact, he looked downward, “When the opportunity to abduct the kids arose, she was waiting for me in the girl’s bedroom...” He paused briefly before finishing “Not wanting to take any risks, I brought her along...”

The maid glared furiously at the man, struggling to free herself while her mouth silently flapped like mad. Lagnus tightened his grip, garnering him an ugly look from the young woman before she returned her gaze to the brown-haired man. Without warning, she suddenly felt a vicious strike against her left cheek. The blow was strong, so much so, her head swung as she fell to her knees. A red bruise burned brightly on her face and as she struggled to open her left eye, she felt someone grip her cheeks. Orbs of green gazed into her sole opened eye, a horrifying fire having awakened within them...

“If you value your life wench, you will compose yourself...” The Lord Amherst growled. “The Golden Flame has no time for fools. I suggest you prepare yourself for questioning...less you want something unpleasant to befall those children...”

As the maid was escorted out, Lord Victor returned to his seat. Albus took a seat next to his uncle whilst Lagnus sat across from the Brown Haired Man. Lord Victor eyed him inquisitively before asking...

“Have you charted the city’s entire sewer system?” Nodding, the man pulled out three folded papers from his pocket and set them on the table. A brief smirk crossed Victor’s lips upon seeing them. It had been three months since he departed for the city. An insider them tipped off that the city intended to declare for independence. Only the royal family was privy to the city’s one weakness, and even then, their knowledge of it was lacking. Victor sent his newest acquisition into the city before the drawbridges were rose, complete with fake identifications to clear him as a Ville servant. Needless to say, the lad passed with flying colors. Passing the pitcher of wine around, all four pour their goblets and the Lord Amherst raised a glass...

“To you Canne, let us celebrate this moment as one!” “Here, Here!” Albus chimed. “Aye...” Lagnus agreed quietly. Canne kept his silence, his eyes closed as he sipped his wine. Once everyone had their fill, he asked...

“Will the children be harmed?” The question surprised Albus who softly chuckled. “Well, that all depends on Lady Ville! As we are all privy, every woman’s sole weakness is their children...Why else would we assign you to her?” Albus smirked as he raised to goblet to his mouth for another sip before continuing. “I’m rather shocked Canne! Even after three months as a servant you still possess that small-town naiveté? I would think it quashed by now...” Though he did not see it, Canne shot Albus an ugly glance as the noble returned to his cup...

“Is it not strange though?” Lagnus interjected. “What is?” Albus eyed him. “How many of the council seats have changed in the past 6 months? Lord Ville’s sudden death notwithstanding, both the Rochester and Hanniver heads passed away two weeks apart! The Cushings being replaced by the Lees? The disappearance of Lord Dolle and his daughter? And the Monevs being given a seat?! So much has happened amongst the city’s top brass that it’s near impossible to ignore!” Looking at Canne, Lagnus asked “Did you hear anything notable during the past three months?” Canne simply shook his head...

“Nothing significant save rumors and gossip. Amongst the staff, the prevailing belief was that Lady Ville poisoned her husband, though just as many say otherwise. Though the daly atmosphere amongst the household was fairly dismal...”

“Our mission is quell the uprising, not speculate on it.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

The chapter would have ended with Victor sending Canne eastward to acquire some “important desirables” his majesty requested in the letter (though what they were would not be revealed).

The only noteworthy thing about this was that in earlier stages, Lemres was present. Originally, Lemres was the one training the mages and would pose the question if Lagnus was comfortable with the situation. These interactions were repurposed for Albus with minor adjustments (Albus was always intended to appear, instead he would have been introduced in the Amherst tent).

Why was this changed?

1.) I have reservations about Sega characters appearing in the story so early. Maybe further down the road but not so soon.

2.) Lemres serving in the Legion is just too out of character of him. Also, the implication that he would have no problem blasting rebels on the grounds of treason was just pushing it.

#madou monogatari #puyo puyo #lagnus #fanfic #alternate universe #unfinished #draft

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the-purple-hero · 5 years

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🔥 The Decimation (MCU AU Drabble - The Snap) 🔥

{🔥}—; “C’mon Sparx, try ‘n catch me!” The young dragon said, participating in a race with Sparx right at his side and soon stopping right by the twin waterfalls where he could see Delbin was busy painting. “Beat ya again! Better luck next time pal, but you’re definitely really fast!”

He couldn’t deny how speedy his best pal was, he could easily pull ahead and beat him in a race he was definitely no slowpoke that was for sure. Spyro was thinking of all kinds of things to do today, having defeated Ripto again recently he thought maybe he could hang out with Sparx, some of the dragons and his friends over at Dragon Shores since after all they were due to have a buffet over there.

The young hero went over to Delbin to ask if he wanted to join him, only to see him look at his hands and him drop his paintbrush. So he picked it up for him in his jaws and held it up so he could take it back, only to see.....”Hey Delbin, y’dropped thi-...what the-?”

What he saw was the dragon slowly turning to dust and fading away, the last thing he saw was the painter’s scared eyes as he faded completely into nothing but dust that laid across the ground, some of it blowing away.

Just...what was that all about? What happened to Delbin? Did he just watch him....die? But how? Spyro looked around with an aggressive and fiery look in his eye barring his teeth and looking for what potentially did this but there was no one around. It seemed to just happen seemingly out of nowhere and for no reason.

Spyro’s breathing was beginning to pick up, as he started becoming really worried and even began to feel a big of fear and sadness...was Delbin really gone? The little dragon began to run with Sparx following by his side, they had to go and tell Nestor about this!

What the little dragon didn’t know was, this wasn’t just happening to Delbin it was happening to many, many others.

Including one, that would be very painful for the young dragon to have to see. As he was running, Sparx called to him to stop. So Spyro turned around, about to tell his best friend they should hurry but before he could get the words out...he saw something that shocked him...Sparx beginning to crumble away into dust much like Delbin just did. “Wait, wait no Sparx!”

The young dragon was so confused and didn’t know what was happening, he quickly grabbed the dragonfly and took him into his forepaws. Thinking of one thing, he couldn’t let this happen! As he held him, the dragonfly looked like he was sick and uncomfortable like something was hurting him.

It showed, as his colors rapidly drained down from blue, to green and finally to black which all dragons knew was deathly for a dragonfly. “S-Spyro...I, don’t know what’s happening I’m, sorry.” the dragonfly’s eyes turned red and sickly as he quickly hugged Spyro’s paw with his tiny little legs, before he crumbled into a pile of dust in his hand.

Spyro didn’t move, or say anything all he felt was utter shock at what he was seeing...his stomach twisted into knots, his stomach was hurting like several pounds pushed against it making it upset and hurt, while he looked at the pile of dust that was Sparx just seconds ago. This can’t be real! It just can’t, it had to be a nightmare! At this point Spyro’s eyes were beginning to sting and burn, soon making the purple dragon realize he had tears welling up in his eyes. The tears began to flow down his scaly cheeks and down into his palms, very still and completely shocked.

The effects weren’t seen by just Spyro, all across the realm this strange affect would take hold as something terrible had happened that would lead to several deaths and lead to great devastation among the realms.

Nestor was merely spending time with Nils taking a walk with his brother. “I know Spyro wanted to go to Dragon Shores, he was excited about the event today so I was thinking I’ll go. It happened to be a day where I’m not so busy.”

Heading over there with Nils, he suddenly felt something wasn’t right...only to collapse on the ground and saw his legs crumbling away to dust. The shock of such a sight struck hard in both of the green dragons, Nils taking his brother by the hand, not understanding what was going on. It happened so fast, and his brother faded as he was holding his hand. The sculptor was left speechless, but he needed to know what was happening, he couldn’t be dead!

“Remember, we always give it our all, never give up and we will fight to protect the Dragon Realms should a large scale conflict ever arise!” Titan said as he demonstrated to the dragons, using his axe skillfully against training dummies as he led several of them in a training exercise.

While Titan showed them a few tricks and helped with some who needed some improvement, he noticed as one of them started fading away to dust...soon one by one. The Peace Keeper held his axe firmly, believing they were under fire. It was no time to panic, they needed to defend and avenge their fallen if there was someone here with some kind of strong magic that turned them to dust.

If there was something Titan would not allow, it was his comrades to die in vain. This however was, strange unlike anything he’d seen before but after seeing a few fall right before his eyes he looked around trying to see what was causing his comrades to fall like flies. “Stay calm, and stay close, it appears we’re under attack!”

It didn’t appear like anyone was there, just what was doing this? Although he didn’t have much time to dwell on is, as his axe fell out of his hands as he began to fade as well. The warrior felt horrified and for the first time in a long while he felt true fear, as he soon succumbed to this and everything went black...and it was over, with the remaining Peace Keepers watching in horror.

Unlike many, Cosmos felt something wrong the moment it had begun so he quickly got up and went to his spell books in a desperate attempt to find some way to counter what was happening. He could feel a great disturbance, but as Cosmos quickly used his magic he could slowly feel the realization that there was no stopping this especially after he just watched Zantor, a student of his crumble to dust before his eyes.

He didn’t even have much time to try as he felt weak and went down to his knees, trying to hold himself up with his staff only to have it fall away as he too was a victim of this travesty falling upon the Dragon Realms, and beyond as he could sense. Cosmos was afraid, and didn’t know what the Magic Crafters will do with him gone.

The normally smug dragon elder was now afraid, knowing there was nothing he could do. All he could do was hope that someone could take his place and lead in his place...he felt sad that his time was being cut short and now, he’d never be able to finish with so much good he’d planned for the realms. He’d made mistakes...but now his life was cut short as he faded away leaving only his staff, the second leader to fall.

Bruno was spending time during the day collecting herbs and other minerals to get to work to beast making with Bubba, but of course since he didn’t have direct connections to magic and instead the environment he had no idea what was coming.

Until he saw Rosco crumble away to nothing but dust before him, making him drop the items he was carrying but taking his chieftain staff and heading back to the temple. Lighting a beacon to call all his Beast Makers back immediately, anyone that wasn’t present anyway.

He waited hours...but only three came back some of them telling him how they saw many of their fellow Beast Makers crumble to dust just like what he saw. No one knew what was going on, it looked to them as if they were under attack from something unknown, and Bruno couldn’t believe it that it seemed like many of his dragons were dead, or had disappeared with only three returning to him.

Lateef was taking it harshly, being connected and spiritually tuned the blue dragon could feel many deaths across the Dragon Realms seconds apart, even beyond their home. He couldn’t believe what his senses were having him believe.

He put a hand over his heart, and his heart feeling the shock of so many innocents and otherwise all dying off but what really got to him was...the fact he couldn’t feel their spirits after they were gone, that wasn’t possible!

Just as he thought he’d felt the worst of it he saw Revilo who was right beside him trying to help him beginning to fade away as well. Lateef was normally very calm and tranquil in even the most stressful of situations, but he couldn’t fathom losing his closest friend of several years so suddenly, and out of nowhere.

Quickly getting to his feet he took the clearly weakening dragon into his arms, holding him by his hand. Only to have him fade in a matter of seconds, speaking Lateef’s name in a voice filled to the brim with fear...

The knitting dragon left nothing behind except for his knitting needles, and what made this worse was he couldn’t immediately feel his friend’s spirit. So he quickly looked out to see many of his own fading out there.

Lateef quickly tried to calm himself and contact their spirits, but as hard as he tried it would seem there were no spirits to even contact at all...they were just gone, seemingly out of existence.

Later

The Dragon Realms for a while were facing a massive emergency, that many dragons had been crumbling to dust at a random moment in the day and it was a seemingly one time occurrence. But thanks to feedback from Lateef, he confirmed that they had passed away but had no spirit like they were just gone for good.

It was something even he didn’t want to have to admit, but as hard as he tried there was nothing he could do and it soon spread across the realms that three of the leaders had fallen. There would need to be replacements for them, very sudden but they needed to keep the realms safe and secure, later it was found out even Gnasty Gnorc had fallen.

Many dragons scrambled to also find out if Spyro was safe, and were greatly relieved to find him alive but at what cost? Sparx had died, along with many of Spyro’s friends and dragons that he enjoyed spending time with.

It was a terrible day, filled with heavy loss and sorrow...something that the realms could not easily recover from, and worst of all no one knew who or what could have done this. Many looked to Lateef and the few remaining Magic Crafters to figure it out, and they promised they would figure it out, somehow.

Many were left devastated, especially Spyro who just spent time in his room alone only being visited by Nils on occasion, he didn’t really come out for a week but it was obvious like everyone else he was upset.

The Artisan home didn’t feel the same without several of them, it felt quiet and not so cheerful with the birds usually chirping it just felt, empty...as did some of the homeworlds left with so few in numbers.

Survivors/Victim List

#drabble #verse introduction #au #v. in the dark

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josthecommision · 5 years

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WIP

Been working on a new original story with several inspirations from things I love. Thanks to the great works of artists and their commissions, I am able to tell my story. Despite being only a pilot chapter that I am working on, its still a brand new story so ill be working on aspects of the world I am building like the races and even the world map (as soon as I find a good artist for that course). Here is my first breakdown, the first two members of the main cast representing their races. (if you want, you can ignore the DnD/Pathfinder gimmick there, it was for fun) from right to left! Disclaimer that wile there are some Inspirations from real world lore and history, I took artistic liberties. With that out of the way, lets start!

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Aos Sidhe - The fairy of the hills, they are members of the Tuatha De Danaan or the people of the goddess Danu along with the Ondines if the river lands and the Half Fae that still take to the old ways after the great Fae schism. they were lead by their ancestral founder gods: Caernunos, Morrigan, Nuadha and Cu Cullain, Bridgid, and Danu as their queen.

The Tuatha De Danaan being peaceful people unless provoked, the Sidhe have taken this deeper to heart than the other three two off shoots. Hanging up their swords and spears for plows and fishing poles, they live a life of happiness and indulgence away from the worries of the violent world. Living and breading for the harvest and party, they have become skilled fishers, farmers and shepherds and all that entails, their magic having slowly shaped to meet their everyday needs. This is why a Sidhe with offensive magical abilities is rare now days.

The Sidhe have actually in a way evolved into two sub groups shaped by their environment and daily needs. The first group is the Inland Sidhe who mostly still live in their land of origin Fa-Ire’ but deep in great underground kingdoms carved from stone. They tend to be taller than their forest and island dwelling cousins and more likely y to retain the warrior way of their ancestors due to their closer proximity to the rest of the world.

Their culture is built in mining of precious stones and metals as well as harvesting roots and fungi that grows in their great complexes. Wile mostly self sufficient, trading almost exclusively with the other Tuatha De Danaan, some of the more industrious and daring Hills have begun to compete with the Dwarves of the mountain kingdoms. Inland Sidhe have also developed the ability to see in the dark allowing them almost perfect night vision but effecting their sight out doors, specially for those that live in the deepest recesses of the hill underkingdoms which is why they wear hoods when outside in the day. They tend to be the paler of the Sidhe but share hair colors and the magical eyes normal attributing to their immense magical ability and the freckles.

Exports are metals, quarry stone, precious stones, paint, art, spider silk clothing, spider silk and outside exports. Imports are fruits, vegetables, grains, fish, art wool clothing, game and farm raised animals, wood among other goods.

Some hills deep in the forest and near the east coasts have actually grown into great multicultural cities were all of the Tuatha De Danaan live together. It is in this metropolises were the second sub group if the Sidhe can began to be seen here attributed with their distinct shorter statures, darker skin and a peculiar culture that marries the traditional Sidhe culture with more exotic tastes and colors.

The sea Sidhe or water Sidhe are the second group of the Aos Sidhe. Short, darker of skin and almost exclusively peaceful, they are less likely to have members with combative abilities.

They are the farmers, fishers, shepherds and artisans and that is echoed in their proclivity for festivities and great artistic arts. Happy to keep to themselves for the most part, they happily rely on the rest of the Tuatha De Danaan for anything they are missing. Their magic almost exclusively focused on their labors, they are known to have a miraculous green thumb and even “cheat” at fishing, easily using Aquakenisis to pull their catch to their small and swift shifts only to freeze their catch for the way home.

Being islanders, their Hills a re not as grand and majestic as inland hills and don't run as deep so their houses tend to spill into the surrounding island. Despite of being masters of practical magic and overall reclusive, the fog that surrounds their territory giving it the name “Sea of mists” is some how natural and not of their doing and seems to be thickest at the very center of the sea. Being a culture of sear faring people, they have learned to navigate the thick fog flawlessly even during the day. Its this remarkable ability that has allowed them to not only conduct a perfect web of trade with the mainland unseen but also allowed them to remain hidden even to the point of becoming myth. The trade with outsiders once in a wile, conducted as if it were a dream has evolved their culture to mix with western and eastern customs, becoming some what unique and exotic.

Common traits between both groups besides their short statures are their exceptional sense of hearing, prodigal dexterity and their near eternal youth after reaching 16-18 years of age. Along with their rather long lifespans has made the illusion of immortal young adults with no adult supervision. It is this fact of near eternal youth and long life that has made the older males grow and bleach their beards as an elder status as well as woman with the tips of their hair.

As safe as the Sea of Mists is, the very center were the fog is the thickest is actually a place of great danger. Along with the forbidden pit, the Dragons pond deep in the underkingdoms and wyvern mountain’s top, the island at the center of the sea of mists is home to a biomechanical leviathan. It is said that the founding gods gifted their people artefacts, coral horns to pacify the fierce guardians of this places. It is with this few and highly treasured artefacts that allow the Sidhe to roam the most dangerous places of their homes. Despite the horns, the territories of the guardians are avoided. The Sidhe culture’s focus on a simple, honest and peaceful life away from the rest of the world can be quantified and organized by the teachings of their god founders.

Followers of Caernunnos or Cernunnos would respect nature in all forms when seeking bounty and would happily let their natures flourish. Hunters are to enjoy the challenge in the woods or at sea and would give thanks and respect for the bloody bounty. In correlation to this, butchers, cooks and crafters would strike to use every single inch of the catch from horns to bones and even organs. Waste is taboo. Followers of Cernunnoos would also freely express them selves lovingly and intimately with their lover or wife in celebration of life. To live a passionless life alone was a tragedy and followers of the horned god would even help others find their true love as “love packs on the hunt” as they were playfully called.

Just as Morrigan shares the spheres of passion with Cernunnos and war with Cu Cullain who focuses on martial prowess wile she focuses on magical might, the usual followers being female. A goddess honored in more in the hills of the deep due to more warrior like people living there, her female followers tend to be the most skilled female warriors and miners. What sets her aside from her fellow patrons besides magic is the duty to the dead the followers of Morrigan enact. In the past were war was much more prevalent, the followers of the war goddess would scour the battle fields to retrieve the dead and clean their corpses and armor for burial. Her worship has dwindled in times of peace but not gone as the guardians that keep the hills safe hold both Cu Cullain and Morrigan in high regards. It is believed that the thick endless mists are a gift of the war patron.

Nuadha is the high king of the Tuatha De Danaan second only to Danu. Patron of monarchs, Nuadha blesses the followers of the old ways and their rulers with greater skill in their arts to aid in king and country. Chiefs that follow the way of Nuadha are honor bound to lead the vanguard of every battle and thus are blessed with nearly unmatched skill so long as the pact is kept. Also patron of the brave cripples, it is believed that when he lost his arm in battle, magical artificers were divinely inspired to inspired to create arcane prosthetics. As patron of the brave cripples, it is believed that those that rise up from weakness no matter the reason are empowered when they strive to surpass their weakness.

Cu Cullain is one of the two war and martial patrons of the Tuatha De Danaan and holds over physical dominion of combat. Followers of Cu Cullain tend to be more militaristic and so focus more in the broader aspects of combat. Skilled in the lightning fast warfare of chariots, accurate marksmen ship of archers and strength in spear, sword, axe and hammer, his warriors aim to maintain such prowess. This days of ever lasting peace has seen a decline in war god reverence yet not forgotten as even peace needs safeguarding. Wile the Aos Sidhe favor violence much less than their river dueling Ondine cousins, each of the 20 Hills spread out the islands hosts 50 Sentinels at the time. Operating as Militia, scouting and peace keeping force, Cu Cullain and Morrigan Sentinels make it their duty to keep their skills honed at all times. It is debated weather it is a problem or not but Sentinel numbers have began to dwindle in numbers and youth as most of the Sentinels today are veterans that have lived several millennia, some members even being founding members. Still, as interest dwindles, the Sentinels view it as misguided indulgence and continue their endless vigil in land and sea. Waiting for the muster of the two thousand strong to fight for their land under Cu Cullain and Morrigan’s guidance.

As Bridgid discovered the Fae steel that would not burn the Fae on touché, her followers are skilled smiths and artisans. Followers of the fire patron created some of the best and sharpest weapons the world had seen, not only safe for fairies due to Fae metal but also easier to bind magic to. Now days very few still practice martial metallurgy as the smithy of a Hill now focuses on metal for every day use from simple nails to beautiful works of art. Followers of Bridgid have become so diverse that commerce has become one of her spheres and the number of her devoted grows almost rivaling Caernunos and Morrigan. few merchants of the Tuatha De Danaan go about this business with out her fiery charm.

-----

Nahual - Shape shifting beings of unknown origins, the Nahual are a scattered people with few homes to call their own. With their origins having been lost during the ancient war that herald the apocalypse of the civilized world giving way to savagery and a regression of civilization, the Nahual themselves know little of their origins. Only known records are passed down by oral accounts in that they may have been artificially created as eldritch abominations with ever shifting forms. The Nahual generally accept to be the creation of mad artificers for war only to be gifted control and sentience over themselves by beings beyond anyone's understanding.

The Nahual are tall and stout, being as tall as ten feet tall in extreme cases and are able to shape shift into any beast they choose. Their appearance are rather mixed between lupine and feline with tufts of hair, pointy ears, claws and fangs. A fact that gives credence to their origins as manufactured weapons is how they are stronger and more resilient than normal humans. It is this fact and their lack to a true home and country that the Nahual turn to blades for hire in hopes of obtaining a home to live in or simply for riches and love for battle.

Nahual who practice the ever perplexing arts of Eldritch magic can potentially empower their already potent shape shifting into any form they wish. Living normal lifespans of around 100 years tops, this are descendants of Nahual that lived through the end of the prior world and have seen the world change. Despite their natural life span, there are reports of a select few that claim to have slept in stasis sarcophagi that have proven to live beyond that and still maintain their prime. It can be theorized that this individuals can live indefinitely and are the cause of some eldritch blessing or even a prototype procedure to further improve on the already formidable super solders. Sadly, nothing more can be learned as this “immortal” that had lived up to five times the normal life span had been killed in battle. However, it is a possibility that youth was granted by some form as the Nahual maintained relative youth with appearance at around mid 20s. It is sadly only speculation and cant be truly proven to be real or of a special case entirely.

With no king and country and being too ostracized as unnatural, run of the mill Nahual tend to be self serving and selfish. It has been accounted that Nahual mercenaries would defect when believed to be cheated or when their contractor dies. It is theorized that millennia of being seen by the general populace as nothing more than fighters for hire or even entertainers of less reputable forms have embittered the race into a belief of survival of the strongest and most clever. It is in light to this face that surprises scholars at how Nahual bandits aside from cartels are relatively none existent. Some how, the Nahual are more than happy to engage in genuine business just as long as prospects don't go under.

Wile occasionally atheistic, there are few who adopt the religions of the land for genuine need for higher powers or as tools to manipulate socially. There are others that follow the pantheon of gods believed to have taken part in their creation and the characteristics of this eldritch orders vary. One must note that the very concept of eldritch beings originates from their entities and thus almost impossible to truly comprehend. Many a scholar have gone mad trying.

Z’yag Zathakh the Amused is an eldritch god with questionable yet apparently benevolent motives as far as it is known. The only eldritch god to have some level of genuine benevolent interest in mortals, he is believed to be the one that created what is now known as the Nahual. If it created them from nothing or by changing their nature is unknown. What is some what understood is that Z’yag Zathakh has an interest in the day to day life of mortals in a way that could be described as amused providence. What ever the motives if there are any at all, all understood examples of his interference have been playful and even curious to a point of view. It is as if mortals are his playthings or puppets played with by an adolescent. A curious fact as its fellow eldritch gods have a sense of indifference if not malice towards mortals.

Some question if there is even a point to the god’s machinations.

Z’yag Zathakh’s curiosities upon our world and its chaotically random miracles have given birth to cults of fertility, philosophy and even candy. Magic that derives from reverence of the eldritch god is as curious as the god itself. Most of the magics one gains are mostly esoteric in nature, some also bend space time to the will of the user. It should be noted that ability and use with the magic derives from the approval of Z’yag Zathakh. It is theorized that if one strays from the path set by the eldritch god that gifted such magic, the ability to use it vanishes until the time one returns to such path. What is perfectly understood is that the eldritch god finds the results of his acts highly entertaining as new reports of out of this world miracles continue to sprout seemingly at random with the same unpredictable yet relatively harmless results. What most of its cults understand is that the eldritch god has a stark opposite in the form of the eldritch god of destruction Apophitehp. Were Z’yag Zathakh is chaotic creation, miraculous chance and curiosity, Apophitehp is destruction and malice.

Apophitehp is understood as a god of destruction that believes in its nihilistic view point that life’s true destiny is destruction. revered and feared by both the Nahual and the Wadjat

#Aisling #Aos Sidhe #Zer-Jo #Nahual #original #tuatha de danann #RobD2003 #commision

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1-michelle · 2 years

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What glitter company is used most by crafters such as tumbler/resin crafters?

There is no definitive answer to this question, as each crafter has their own personal preferences when it comes to glitter. However, a few of the more popular best glitter craft brands among crafters include Glitter Fuel Shop LLC, Diamond FX, Ben Nye, and Global Colors.

Each of these brands offer a wide range of glitter options, including a variety of colors, textures, and sizes. They also all produce high-quality glitters that are resistant to fading and chipping, making them perfect for use in crafting projects. As a crafter, you know that choosing the right glitter can make all the difference in your finished project. But how do you know which glitter is best for your needs?

In this article, we'll take a look at the most popular types of glitter used by crafters and explain the benefits and drawbacks of each. We'll also give you some tips on how to choose the right glitter for your needs. How do you use glitter?

Glitter is a fun way to add visual interest to any project. Whether you're creating decorative projects or crafting projects, you can add a variety of types of glitter to your projects. There are different types of glitter that you can use for your crafting projects. Keep in mind, each type of glitter has different properties that you should consider before using it for your own projects.

1. Glitter Crystals

Glitter Crystals are the most popular type of glitter used by crafters.

The most common type of glitter crystals is the best glitter that you see in craft stores and craft magazines. These glitter crystals are made by heating plastic at very high temperatures and then pressing the melted plastic into a mold to create the glitter.

The glitter crystals can be cut into any shape, and they can be used in a variety of different ways.

While glitter crystals are easy to work with, they are very porous, which can make them prone to fading in the sun. It's also difficult to get a smooth finish after you've used glitter crystals.

2. Glitter Powders

Glitter Powders are another popular type of glitter that crafters use. They come in a wide variety of colors, but they aren't as popular as glitter crystals.

Unlike glitter crystals, glitter powders are not pressed in molds. Instead, they are simply ground from solid mineral ingredients. Glitter powders don't have the same high quality as glitter crystals, but they do have a higher durability, which makes them perfect for projects that involve lots of cleaning and repeated exposure to water.

While glitter powders are easy to work with and maintain the highest quality, they can be difficult to mix into your projects and are not as versatile as glitter crystals.

3. Glitter Glo

Glitter Glo is a type of glitter that crafters love to use for their craft projects. Just like glitter crystals, glitter glo is made by melting plastic and pressing it into molds. The glitter glo can be cut into any shape, just like glitter crystals, and it comes in a wide variety of colors.

Unlike glitter crystals and glitter powders, glitter glo is not pressed into molds. Instead, it is simply poured into molds and then cooled. It's also more expensive than the other two types of glitter.

4. Glitter Flakes

Glitter flakes are popular with crafters, and they come in a wide variety of colors and shapes. They're also very durable and have a high resistance to fading.

Glitter flakes are created by grinding down the mineral ingredients that make up the glitter. The glitter flakes are then passed through sieves to ensure that they have the right size and shape.

While glitter flakes are an economical type of glitter, they are difficult to work with and are not as versatile as glitter crystals or glitter powders.

5. Metallic Glitter

Metallic glitter is a type of glitter that is commonly used by crafters. Metallic glitter is often used to add a metallic effect to projects.

While the glitter itself may not be metallic, it can have a metallic effect after it is mixed with certain colors. Metallic glitter is a great way to add a unique look to your project.

While metallic glitter is commonly used in crafting projects, it is not as popular as the other types of glitter.

Is it better to use glitter that glows in the dark or a glitter that lights up?

Some people say that using glitter that glows in the dark is the only way to go, while others insist that using a glitter that lights up is the only way to go.

So, which is better? And more importantly, which should you use?

Well, to answer that question, we first need to look at what each type of glitter has to offer. Glitter that glows in the dark, as the name suggests, glows in the dark. This means that it will light up under any kind of light, even if it's just a light from your phone. Glitter that lights up, on the other hand, only lights up when it comes into contact with another light source.If you need to work in complete darkness, you may want to consider using glitter that glows. However, if you want to use glitter that lights up, you may want to consider using glitter that doesn't glow in the dark.

That said, it's important to note that the glitter that lights up is not necessarily better than the glitter that doesn't light up. For example, many people prefer using glitter that is opaque. This means that it will cover any other colors and light up, rather than revealing the other colors and hiding them.

#glitter craft #Art and Craft #art #glitter

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alleycat4eva · 6 years

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Blood in the Water, Fire on the Land

I dedicate this to @tricneu who never let these guys die and @temahri who breathed life into the old cast once more.

It’s been two years since she settled with her choices and Ryuishi feels…old.

It’s a sensation in her bones; a weight, a hollow sort of density that sits in her ribs like lead. The number of years on her soul hangs across her shoulders like a shroud, constant and pressing. Sometimes it lingers in the line of her jaw, touching ever so faintly in the corner of her eyes. There are lines there now, faint ones she never grew old enough to see in her past life, and each one feels like it carries a metric ton.

It so much more than her body’s age, instead of something ephemeral and intangible that somehow takes shape in the heart of her. How many years has she been living now? How many in this world, and the one before?

She doesn’t know. Stopped counting things in years, only events.

She was born. She lived, she loved, she grew and played and learned. She died.

She was born. She lived, she loved, she grew and fought and fought and fought and learned.

Fights. Learns.

And still, somehow, with all that fighting and learning, she ends up here. Staring at the orange glow of a fire that will take days to burn itself out, eating its way across the plains of Grass Country, ravaging the countryside and laying waste to crops and homes alike. The heat of it prickles at her cheeks, and the ash falls from the sky like a gentle rain, sizzling where it lands on her damp skin.

There is no trail to find. There is nothing left but embers, she thinks passively, her heart weary but unmoved. Clever Hanako. Clever, clever Mumei.

She should have seen it coming, really. She taught them this trick decades ago when Kiri burned.

Her body shifts, unnatural chakra pooling at the base of the feet submerged far below her. It’s like finding grip midair, and the liquid solidifies into something that will hold her weight. Though the current still tugs at her clothes and hair, she rises steadily, smoothly ascending from the waters into the fiery night. Her movements are practiced and smooth, as old as she is in her soul, and there is no noise to give her way. No sound to speak of from her.

Nor is there any sound from the man already on the bank.

She turns to look at him anyway, his silhouette cast in dancing red and yellows. A strong build, sturdy and tall. He looks fierce, she thinks, the jutting lower half of an Oni’s jaw -all teeth and wicked snarls- covering the lower half of his face. Combined with his cutting eyes, it’s quite the picture. But not enough of one to stop her gaze from flickering just a further down to his chest. Even in the unsure light she can see it, that pasty paper white flesh keeping Zabuza alive, the remnants of a deal made with a trickster to pay for her mistake.

Something oozes inside her head, sloshing around a bit. The faded spark of a rage not just her own, accompanied by loss. The niggling sensation that there should be a smaller figure beside him, all ice and composure and a piece of her heart.

Ryuishi turns away, toward the fire once more.

There used to be a village here, several hundred yards from the edge of the river to allow for the flooding that naturally occurs every season. It was small, a stopover town built up over the past few years. It produced little other than agricultural goods, but there was a glass shop on one of the beaten dirt paths. The crafter in there used dye to turn sand up from Suna into works of art, twisting the molten material like taffy into creations and colors that could take your breath away.

Idly, she wonders if that’s where they started the blaze. It would be a tactically sound, the glass ovens kept hot near constantly so the glass inside did not destroy them, and wood placed out back to feed those ovens. The powders and minerals that brought out such rich color could be added to and tweaked to make something a bit more destructive. Something not what it was meant to be. Another errant thought ponders if that crafter is dead, while a third yet asks how the Mumei knew. How they figured out that she was close.

A heavy hand rests itself on her shoulder, warm despite the chill of the water. But, then again, almost everything feels warm to her these days, contrasting with her uncomfortably cold skin. A symptom of a deeper shift.

“I will put it out.”

The voice is deep and warbling, the presence at her back towering over her smaller frame. Kisame is, as ever. a behemoth of a man, his eyes reflecting light in the night the way no human’s could. His presence is a shroud against her back, solid and sturdy and so, so careful still.

“Suiton on that scale is a dead giveaway. The Mumei aren’t the only ones being hunted,” Zabuza grumbles from the bank. His voice is coarse, rough, even half muffled behind his new mask.

Ryuishi doesn’t make a face at the pronouncement, simply accepting the truth of the statement. The three of them have forever been targets in some shape or form, but these days the number of those who wish to see them stopped has grown exponentially. The semi-regular opportunistic bounty hunter and enemy nin has morphed and stretched into entire nations worth of ninja on the lookout, waiting for a word, a whisper of The Kaijuu.

Of the Ryo.

It is not wholly undeserved, she thinks. In most ways, she has earned it.

Conniving and deceiving your way into power for around three decades will do that. Especially when one of your factions goes rogue and lights the fuse of a long-standing silent grudge by killing off a despot who was implied to rule by divine right. That single action, in turn, igniting a ruthless civil war and rampatting up tensions between civilian, noble, and shinobi across the elemental nations.

All that’s to say nothing of the undead menace with a too powerful eye and the literal eldritch horror mucking about.

“Only really have to worry about Konoha this close to the border. They’re the only ones with the skill and attention to spare right now,” Kisame returns.

“And Suiton of that level would get them to send who?”

Ryuishi’s stomach twists oddly, and she’s unsure if it’s her own reaction or a ghost of anothers. There’s a flash in her mind’s eye of silvery hair and the smell of ozone, a man leading a sunshine child -her heart, her child- away on a beach that is melting into a graveside.

She blinks and it’s gone, but her distaste for a mixed headspace lingers.

“Doesn’t matter. We have shook him before, we’ll do it again.”

“But they will know where we were. Useful information.”

“Not something they can do much with.”

Zabuza grunts. It is, she supposes, true in some ways and not in others. If someone does figure out where they were tonight, not much would change. Another sin might be added to their long and sordid list of them, but at this point, that scroll is so long it would take scribe weeks to right anyway. Not that scribes are a thing, here. They are unneeded, even among the rural towns these days. The population is growing past that, learning in new schools, rapidly outstripping previous generations with innovation and development. So quick, so clever. These days, people just know things.

Maybe things that make they shouldn’t, like tonight.

“The Mumei knew they had a tail. I can’t say if they knew it was us, but they knew something was up. They shouldn’t have. We need to know how.”

The men shift, her husky, ruined voice drawing their attention. The hand on her shoulder tightens its grip briefly, broad fingertips pressing in to the corded muscle of her shoulder. For a moment, the only sounds following her words are the steady crackling of flames, the soft drip of water from her clothes, and the running river beneath them.

“We’ll get them, Ryuishi,” Kisame says softly. His voice is closer now, and she can feel the rough material of his traveling cloak brush against own clothes. “People can’t run forever, not even nameless ones.”

Her eyes stray toward the flames, a part of her already thinking of cargo to be moved and calculating the loss of product in the harvest, crunching numbers as it recalls the direction of the wind and close by settlements.

“Monsters can,” Zabuza answers, and Ryuishi looks at him once more. She doesn’t know how to feel about that distinction, what to think of it.

These days, she doesn’t know much of what to think at all.

#otrats #idk #ryuishi #kaijuu #kaiju no kiri #fic #naruto

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beingatoaster · 6 years

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What if I'm far from home? Oh brother, I will hear you call What if I lose it all? Oh sister, I will help you out Oh, if the sky comes falling down, for you There's nothing in this world I wouldn't do

I probably couldn’t actually play these two as DnD characters, because they’re pretty entwined, unless I just picked one of them for a campaign--picking one would be the really hard part. (They are separated as of their “starting” points, so that much would be easy, but giving the other up as a character....) But I was bitten really hard for then this evening, so I figured I might as well write them up.

Gyrda was a hill dwarf born into the Hardhelm clan, proud keepers of the storied history of their dwarven hold. Their hold was an open one, and more of its people were merchants, facilitating trade between the surface world above and the deep-buried isolationist dwarven holds below, than were crafters or miners or warriors. They were more open-minded, more welcoming of new ideas, than most dwarves, and when from a young age Gyrda showed not just the scholarly bent of the Hardhelms but an outright fascination with the nature of the surface world, she was encouraged in her interests. She was allowed to make excursions to the surface, to study its flora and fauna in person, for her clan thought that it would be to their benefit for her to expand their knowledge while she was still young and unattached enough to embark on such expeditions without disrupting the clan’s work. But she was still a dwarf; once she hit fifty or sixty, they assumed, she would settle down underground, compile her findings for the Hardhammer archives, and then take up her proper task of recording the events of the clan and indexing its histories. None knew that her fascination with the natural world above had as much to do with the dryad friends she’d made there as with the forest itself.

The concept of names for people, places, and tribes strikes firbolg as strange, but to the wood elves and forest gnomes who dwelled nearby, the lack would have caused distress and confusion, and therefore his tribe used those species’ style of names in dealings that required such monikers. Therefore, when he asked, they let the young firbolg choose the elven name Eirelis, against the time when he might someday have to speak to their occasional allies in the protection of the forest. More social and inquisitive than most of his kind, Eirelis often crept out of the forest depths that his tribe occupied and protected, lurking at the edges of the elven and gnomish settlements that fringed the Wood in order to study their ways. He was also close friends with the many dryads who lived in the woods, and those on the edges helped him understand the people he observed, even when he felt too shy to go among them. His tribe was unsettled by his frequent journeys to the fringes, but they’d been cautious allies of both the gnomes and the elves for centuries, and they trusted the fey folk of the wood to keep an eye on Eirelis and prevent him from exposing their existence to foreigners or come himself to harm among them.

In her twenties, Gyrda was a young woman (though with strong emphasis on the young, from a dwarven point of view), while Eirelis, barely into his second decade, was still an adolescent when the great stone fell from the sky and, in its landing, set the forest ablaze. Much of the firbolg tribe was no doubt killed in the first few moments, but Eirelis, once again on the fringes of the forest, had time to flee from the worst of the inferno. So did Gyrda, who had been studying the patterns of the falling leaves in the forest when the flames suddenly roared dwon upon her. They ran to the same place, the dryads’ grove--Eirelis seeking protection from those he’d always looked up to as guides and guardians, Gyrda in the desperate hope that she could somehow save her tree-bound friends. They stumbled into the grove, the firbolg first, the dwarf minutes later, and as the fire encircled the dryads, they did the only thing they could to protect their mortal friends: they twisted the planes around them, transporting the entire grove and those within it into the Feywild.

Portals between the planes require a close similarity between the terrain of one plane and the other, and so, with the fire speeding through the dryads’ grove, it was a one-way trip. Many of the dryads did not survive, unable to fully transition to their Feywild habitations before the fire burned away too much of their essence on the Material Plane, and by the time they had been fully dragged through, Eirelis and Gyrda had both been badly burnt. They might not have survived had they not been found by curious eladrin, who carried them home to the Seelie Court and healed their wounds. There was no going home for either of them, said the mercurial eladrin noble who took them into his household, and so they might as well make themselves at home as Cildraele’s children.

The fire had been much worse for Eirelis; he was badly traumatized by the loss of his forest and his whole tribe, and he clung to Gyrda like a constant shadow. He couldn’t bring himself to speak to all these strangers, and so he and Gyrda developed between them a sort of simple language of gestures and signs. For her part, Gyrda fell easily into the role of guardian for the young firbolg, seized with a fierce compassion and affection for this child who seemed to trust only her, and the few remaining dryads, and no one else. They were bonded more closely together by their life in a fey-lord’s household, for while some of the eladrin were at times kind, at other times they were cold, or bitter, or cruel, and most of the other fey might be gracious or gentle but seemed to see kindness as an alien mortal flaw. As the only mortals among them, Gyrda and Eirelis had to struggle to survive the endless machinations of the household, and not even Cildraele himself was always a safe point of anchor. The sense of alienation was the worst part to Gyrda, who did not have even the trace of fey blood that Eirelis had to anchor herself in the Feywild, and she spent as much time with the dryads, who had at least dwelled on the Material Plane, as she could without neglecting Eirelis.

Time moves strangely in the Feywild, the more so by mortals who are affected by it. Though it seemed to Gyrda that she trained as a druid for years, with the eladrin and the dryads and other, stranger fey brought in to tutor her, and while Eirelis grew and grew until he was nearly an adult, she never quite seemed to age. Into her thirties, perhaps, for her beard grew in full and some of the lines of her face refined themselves, but once she’d reached them she hung there for all that time that seemed to run on and on but that she couldn’t quite track. And Eirelis seemed to reach that near-adulthood, old enough for stubble but not quite old enough for a full beard, and then hang there too. It ate at Gyrda. Not very much at first, for she was immersed in a study of nature deeper and fuller than any she could have pursued at home, and in the learning of magics and secrets that she had never thought a dwarf could learn. If it had only been herself, perhaps it never would have crossed her mind. But in time she realized that Eirelis, while he’d grown, and while he’d healed in body from his terrible burns, never had seemed to have healed in mind; he still could not speak, still shied away from even a candle’s flame, still curled up in her bed at night and wept silent, shuddering tears, every night that passed, over and over again for what might have been weeks or might have been years. Cildraele waved it off, no matter how often she asked, and while for a while she took his word for it, in time her own education made clear that this was wrong.

She began to study further, not just into nature, or into magic, or into the planes. And finally, carelessly, in passing, one of her tutors dropped enough to make it clear: in the Feywild, time did not run right, as she’d suspected. And in the Feywild, her brother would not heal. Nor would Gyrda grow and mature into the full wisdom of either dwarf or druid, though that seemed to her a lesser trouble. Here, they would be Cildraele’s children forever, and neither could grow and change, for this wasn’t their plane and they could not fall in sync with its patterns.

This time, she didn’t speak to Cildraele. It was clear that he knew what had been the problem, all along. They were showpieces, almost property: look at these mortals that Cildraele had saved, look at his children, look at these pampered, decorated jewels of his household. Now that Gyrda looked at it from a new perspective, she could tell. And Eirelis, he was eventually able to communicate to her, had known even longer than she had--he just hadn’t wanted to trouble her, not when she’d been so buried in her learning, not when it had brought her such joy.

So Gyrda further shifted the course of her study, learning about the planes and the portals between them. It would take more power than she currently had as a druid--or that she could gain here in Cildraele’s household, in this perpetual youth that she’d been locked in--to actually open a portal back to Material Plane. But she learned enough about the making of them to learn the details of how the dryads had brought her and Eirelis here. And so at last she asked them. They had saved her and her brother once; enough time had passed in the Material Plane for the forest to begin to recover, so had they regained their strength, and did they have once again the connection required to do it again?

They had, and they did, and, since it was her and Eirelis asking, they would. They prepared for a secret departure, under cover of darkness. But perhaps they were seen, or perhaps her tutor realized the bent of her questions, or perhaps Cildraele was simply even more powerful than he had seemed. For as they stood in the center of the grove, enmeshed in the power of the dryads, watching the portal open before them--Cildraele appeared, resplendent in his anger. He scolded at first, the indulgent father forced to withdraw his favor, and then coaxed and pleaded, a concerned parent trying to dissuade his children from a course of action; and when Eirelis took Gyrda’s hand and tugged her towards the portal he finally lashed out, striking out with the power of a fey-lord at them both. Gyrda did her best to shield Eirelis, taking the brunt of the assault, and was thrust through the portal by the force of it; her last sight of Eirelis was of Cildraele’s bindings settling around him, pulling him back so that he could not follow. And then she was sent careening through the Ethereal Plane, the portal distorted and disordered enough by Cildraele’s power that Gyrda came back through not in whatever had grown up in the forest that she’d known, but in rocky badlands so far away that not a soul she spoke to in the following days knew of the dwarven hold, or the forest, or even the surrounding nation that she remembered from her childhood.

As for his part, Eirelis was caught firm in Cildraele’s bindings, forced to watch in stillness as his sister was sent hurtling into darkness. From what he saw--the shadows and stone that were all he made out of where she landed--she had been sent straight through the earth into the Underdark. But he could learn no more, for Cildraele gathered him close, once again the gentle and soothing parent who had rescued his child from potential harm, and took him home. Eirelis was wrapped in magic, in bindings and glamours and spells to make him settle and make him forget, and he might have stayed trapped forever, locked in nameless fear and mysterious mistrust, if one of Cildraele’s enemies hadn’t seen in the over-protected firbolg child a point of weakness in the eladrin’s armor. The rival had no concern for Eirelis himself, only a desire to distract Cildraele so that he would be vulnerable in the machinations of the Court, but the end result was the same: the other eladrin snapped the bindings, dispelled the glamours, undid the spells, and snatched Eirelis up as a hostage. Her escape, however, took her through the Ethereal Plane (in order that the kidnapping not be traced back to her), and as he was being carried away, Eirelis gathered up his courage and bolted during a moment of inattention. He fled through the murky mists of the Ethereal until he fell, perhaps by the power of his dormant fey blood and his own desire, back into the Material Plane.

Like his sister, Eirelis ended up in an unknown land, a cold evergreen forest unlike any woods he had ever known on a mountainside that towered over the rolling hills he’d once known. He stumbled through the snow until he was spotted and rescued by some dwarves, but not dwarves Gyrda or the clans she’d described--these were sturdy mountain dwarves, comfortable with the cold but preferring the depths of the mountain tunnels far below. They took Eirelis in out of pity, but their lives were hard, and they could not support an unknown, silent being who could do no useful work. Rather than cast him out, they chose to teach him: first simple tasks, stitching clothes and cleaning pots and doing anything else that kept him well away from fire, and then, later, when he began to build strength and muscle, the combat arts. He didn’t have the physical courage or sheer stamina needed to be a front-line fighter, holding the line with a shield or charging into the foe with an axe, but he had the patience and stealth needed to learn the bow and become an effective hunter.

In time Eirelis even began to speak, a little, though he would ever be more comfortable expressing himself with actions and gestures. In the long cold nights with the other dwarven hunters, he told them bits and pieces of his life, confused by his trembling grasp on language and the long-scarred hurts of his mind: that he had lost his first family in fire but had gained from that horror a new sister, a dwarf, and a terrible adoptive father from whom they both had fled, and how his sister had been cast into a darkness that could only be the Underdark in her efforts to protect him. And how he had to find her someday, if he could, and make up to her all that she’d spent and lost for his sake.

The dwarves listened solemnly (as they did almost everything, for these were a dour folk), and talked quietly later among themselves. They waited a while, for Eirelis was young, and uncertain, and had barely just started growing out his beard. But in time, when his beard had reached a handspan’s length, and he was so tall that he had to hunch nearly double to navigate their rude tunnels, a few of them took him aside, and told him that they had new training for him, and led him down secret and well-secured tunnels into the top crusts of the Underdark. There they trained him in more arts than just those of a hunter: not just stealth but ambush, not just perception but the art of true darkvision, not just simple tricks and traps but deep and secret magic. And when he’d showed a firm grasp on all of these, they told him that he was free to go--that he had always been free to go, though they weren’t sure if he’d known that, but that now he could go not only freely but safely, and have a good chance in the Underdark, if that was what he desired.

And that was indeed what Eirelis desired. He would set out into the Underdark, and search it and the places on the surface that it would sometimes rise up to touch, turning over every stone and breaking into every darkened prison until he found Gyrda.

In the meantime, for the two years and counting since she’d been flung into the badlands, Gyrda had been seeking out the forests she loved and the fey who dwelled in them, searching relentlessly for a portal back into the Feywild, where she had left Eirelis.

Time ran differently in the Feywild, after all, and they’d separately learned that the era they’d known had been centuries past. There was nothing here on the Material Plane that they could go back to, no one who would know their faces or their names, except for each other.

---

Gyrda: Hill Dwarf

Ability Score Increase: Constitution +2, Wisdom +1

Age: Late 30s (dwarven young adult).

Size: Medium. 4′5″ and about 140 pounds.

Speed: Base walking speed is 25 feet, and heavy armor does not reduce speed.

Darkvision: within 60 feet.

Dwarven Resilience: Advantage on saving throws against poison, resistance to poison damage.

Stonecunning: Double proficiency bonus to History checks relating to stonework.

Dwarven Toughness: Your hit point maximum increases by 1, and increases again by 1 every level.

Dwarven Combat Training: Proficiency with battleaxe, handaxe, light hammer, and warhammer.

Tool Proficiency: Brewer’s tools.

Alignment: Neutral Good.

Languages: Common and Dwarvish.

Eirelis: Firbolg

Ability Score Increase: Wisdom +2, Strength +1

Age: Early 30s (firbolg young adult).

Size: Medium. 7′4″ and about 270 pounds.

Speed: Base walking speed is 30 feet.

Powerful Build: You count as one size larger when determining carrying capacity and the weight you can push, drag, or lift.

Firbolg Magic: Once per short rest, can cast either Detect Magic or Disguise Self* (*can appear up to 3 feet shorter), using Wisdom as your spellcasting ability.

Hidden Step: Once per short rest, as a bonus action, you can turn magically invisible until the start of your next turn or until you attack, make a damage roll, or force someone to make a saving throw.

Speech of Beast and Leaf: Beasts and plants can understand the meaning of your words, though you have no special ability to understand them in return, and you have advantage on all Charisma checks to influence them.

Alignment: Neutral Good.

Languages: Common, Elvish, and Giant.

Gyrda: Druid (Circle of Dreams)

armor proficiencies: light armor, medium armor, shields (no armor or shields made of metal)

weapon proficiencies: clubs, daggers, darts, javelins, maces, quarterstaffs, scimitars, sickles, slings, spears

save proficiencies: Intelligence, Wisdom

tool proficiencies: Herbalism kit

skill proficiencies: Insight, Nature

language proficiency: Druidic

starting equipment: wooden shield, wooden club, leather armor, explorer’s pack, druidic focus (a yew wand from one of the dryads’ trees; also her treasured item)

guiding aspect: Yew trees remind you of renewing your mind and spirit, letting the old die and the new spring forth.

mentor: Your favorite tutor was the eldest of the dryads who survived the transition to the Feywild. During your training, she taught you the importance of moving forward and the natural cycle of birth and death.

Eirelis: Ranger (Gloom Stalker)

armor proficiencies: light armor, medium armor, shields

weapon proficiencies: simple weapons, martial weapons

save proficiencies: Strength, Dexterity

skill proficiencies: Animal Handling, Nature, Stealth

language proficiency: Sylvan (from favored enemy)

starting equipment: leather armor, two shortswords, a dungeoneer’s pack, a longbow, and a quiver of 20 arrows

views of the world: Visiting a town is not unpleasant, but after a few days I feel the irresistible call to return to the wild.

homeland: You patrolled an ancient forest, made mysterious and wild by many fey creatures and crossings to the Feywild.

favored (sworn) enemy: Fey. You seek revenge on your own and your sister’s behalf for the great transgressions your foe has committed.

Gyrda: Sage background

skill proficiencies: Arcana, History

languages: Elvish, Sylvan

equipment: a bottle of black ink, a quill, a small knife, a letter from a now long-dead cousin posing a question about dryads’ children that you have not been able to answer, a set of common clothes, and a pouch containing 10 gp

feature: Researcher (if you do not know a piece of lore, you likely know where or from whom you can obtain it)

Personality Traits:

I’m used to helping out those who aren’t as smart as I am, and I patiently explain anything and everything to others.

There’s nothing I like more than a good mystery.

I’m willing to listen to every side of an argument before I make my own judgement.

Whenever I come to a new place, I collect local rumors and spread gossip. (from Entertainer)

I have a lesson for every situation, drawn from observing nature. (from Outlander)

I’m always polite and respectful. (from Soldier)

Ideals:

Beauty: What is beautiful points us beyond itself toward what is true.

Greater Good: My gifts are meant to be shared with all, not used for my own benefit. (from Hermit)

Change: Life is like the seasons, in constant change, and we must change with it. (from Outlander)

Bonds:

I’ve been searching my whole life for the answer to a certain question.

I have a family, but I have no idea where they are. One day, I hope to see them again. (from Folk Hero)

An injury to the unspoiled wilderness of my home is an injury to me. (from Outlander)

Flaws:

I am easily distracted by the promise of information.

I overlook obvious solutions in favor of complicated ones.

I can’t keep a secret to save my life, or anyone else’s.

I’d risk too much to uncover a lost bit of knowledge. (from Hermit)

Eirelis: Outlander background

skill proficiencies: Athletics, Survival

tool proficiencies: Pan flute

languages: Dwarvish

equipment: a staff, a hunting trap, a trophy pair of deer’s antlers, a set of traveler’s clothes, and a pouch containing 10 gp

feature: Wanderer (can recall general geography, and can feed up to five people per day off the land)

Personality Traits:

I place no stock in wealthy or well-mannered folk. Money and manners won’t save you from a hungry owlbear.

I’m always picking things up, absently fiddling with them, and sometimes accidentally breaking them.

I feel far more comfortable around animals than people.

I am incredibly slow to trust. Those who seem the fairest often have the most to hide. (from Criminal)

I’ve been isolated for so long that I rarely speak, preferring gestures and the occasional grunt. (from Hermit)

I hide scraps of food and trinkets away in my pockets. (from Urchin)

Ideals:

Nature: The natural world is more important than all the constructs of civilization.

Independence: I must prove that I can handle myself without the coddling of my family. (from Noble)

People: I help the people who help me--that’s what keeps us alive. (from Urchin)

Bonds:

My family is the most important thing in my life, even when they are far from me.

I am the last of my tribe, and it is up to me to ensure their names enter legend.

I owe a debt I can never repay to the person who took pity on me. (from Urchin)

Flaws:

I am slow to trust members of other races, tribes, and societies.

I judge others harshly, and myself even more severely. (from Acolyte)

I like keeping secrets and won’t share them with anyone. (from Hermit)

My hatred of my enemies is blind and unreasoning. (from Soldier)

#dnd chars #gyrda #eirelis #anyway i have a lot of feels about these two #even if i have no idea what i'd do with them

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