Category: Writing

The Barracks at the Eastern Front

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Sir Aeron has managed to fail upwards remarkably. His punishment for butchering the King and then his own father was to be promoted to one of the most powerful positions in the Empire: a seat on the Round Table.

In the confusion of the leaderless time, he was able to hide away any evidence of his – or his military brothers’ and sisters’ – wrongdoing. The battle had been dreadful and they’d all been wounded horribly. Whoever the attackers were, they were at least gone now. So the Fouth Company lead by Sir Aeron were heroes.

So who better to guard the dangerous Eastern Front?

The Company – leader included – have become savages. They were once pained by their urges, but now swim in them. Their wounds are not healing. Huge swathes of flesh raw and ooze-collecting are not easy to hide. The fact that these clearly terminal injuries haven’t killed them yet is hardly to hide.

The Barracks is a wonderful place for them. There around around twelve thousand people living inside of the City Barracks. It’s a poor city, too far from proper civilisation to be remembered by traders all that often. It’s main function is a garrison for the soliders, and home for their families is secondary. It has high, stone walls which were built by the giantkin when they were allies to the throne.

In the best of times, it’s not easy to leave. A solider abandoning his post is treasonous and their family leaving shows weak faith, which is also treasonous.

So the Barracks is a wonderful place for the Fourth Company to figure out what is happening to them. It’s been two months since they were attacked by the Shadow Pack. The transformation is taking hold.

Lain travelled to the Eastern Front to see how her friend was getting on. It was not a short trip. Two days on horseback, with two escorts. She had hoped to find Aeron resting, or better yet, at work and working through his temper. She barely reached the gates of the City though. There was something wrong there – if her god had ever spoken to her before, it was not as clearly as it was now: you must not enter that place.

The two woman who had accompanied her were an issue, she knew. Odds were that at least one of them was on the pay of the Round Table, and if not then they would gossip nonetheless. They may not have heard the warning she’d been given, but to turn back and not tell them why would be as if they had.

She sent them ahead, into the City, asking them to bring a blacksmith back to fix an issue with her horse’s shoe.

When they were within the walls, she turned away and began her journey home. She had no doubt that would be the last time she’d see them.

Blood Thirst

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The opening prompts for this book are incredibly bloody. I rolled a 1 (5 and 4) to start with. I remember what prompt 1 is, and I thought to myself “no, I’ll skip that one and roll again”. Then I rolled another 1 (7 and 6). Fate clearly wanted me on this path. Let the bloodshed begin.

(Checkout the setup.)

King Statton was furious with his soliders for failing to protect his lands from the … whatever it was that invaded and messed up a lot of people. He refuses to believe that it was strange shadow creatures and even though his fighters – Sir Aeron’s fighter’s – have come back very wounded he still sees them as failures.

One of the the 4th Company laughs – letting off steam more than anything – about the death of the King. “He wouldn’t be so miserable then.” But the idea catches on the wind. The men and woman of the Company feverishly taste the idea as it passes between them. Sir Aeron knows his duty – he should shut them down and order them to run laps or something – but the taste gets to him too. What the heck is happening? he has time to think, before a switch flips and he’s tearing into the King.

It doesn’t stop there. Lord Cambridge himself comes across the scene, or at least peices together enough of what happened to know who did it. He doesn’t know why or how, really. The 4th Company step in before he can do any real damage. Aeron, right then, realises he has a new family. He’s not entirely sure he’s in charge of them, but they call him Lord Cambridge now.

Side note: Faber-Castell highlights cause Uniball black to bleed. This isn’t the case with Uniball blue.

His friend Lain is too sure of him though. She doesn’t realise what’s taking hold of him. Unsure what else to do to help her friend, she suggests to her husband that young Aeron Cambridge should take his father’s empty seat. “Now is a terrible time for the Council to be broken,” she tells him.

And somehow, it happens.

A quickly receding land

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My partner hates it if I fall to sleep before he’s gotten into bed, so I’ve started doing world building things in a journal whilst I wait.

Barren Lands

2,600 miles of roasting desert. It continues further north, but this is the furthest anyone has return from. The came back with stories of populous families of sandworms, vastly more than ever imagined. Presumably, it’s them that churn and digest the land and turn it all to sand. Giant insects have evolved to be light enough to not disturb them. Fire Wyrmlings grow too numerous to reach adulthood, such is their cruelty in their youth.

Duck Patrol

The ducks are huge creatures obsessed with pushing back the sand, northwards. They’re doing a surprisingly good job. Their flat feet do not summon the worms.

They are frequently poached. The Loyal Kindred protect them as best they can, but they have limited resources.

Gywin’s Scar

The wizards of Dirnt had an idea to repel the Barrens and it went badly.

It’s now the perfect home for climbing creatures, and one last expelled family from The Dales.

Loyal Kindred Of Lucian

They believe their god still lives, despite their obvious demise. Magic is powerful here, but not for the reasons they think.

The city is slowly diminishing as they pour resources into holding back the Barrens and appearing strong, avoiding war.

The Lick

The Sopp takes more land each year. These peaceful people had no choice but war when their request for asylum was denied from their neighbours. The choice was the fight to the death or die standing still.

Hapal Kingdom

Shrinking each day from war which they appear to be losing. A recent leadership change might bring peace, but it is not likely. They worship and endeavour to wake the elephantine gods. No one else wants this.

Hapal’s Loss

One farmlands, now salted earth. Thousands of people had to relocate to the “mainland” of the Kingdom.

Plaguelocked city of the Dirnt

They revel in their plague and the gifts it gives them: a sleepless life where the gods can’t peer into their thoughts. They are bat shit crazy and would gladly infect the world. The surrounding countries do all they can to keep them inside.

Vassel

The hierophant lives here, and she is adored by everyone. They all need her whispers from the gods. They’re all waiting for her to convince the gods to halt the Barrens and/or encroaching Sopp.

All countries donated land to her. They all kneel to those in her white robes.

The hierophant has not shared this knowledge, but they have developed technology to stay afloat in The Sopp.

Sinder

The fire tribes whose culture revolve around growth and burning. They claim all the land the fires take, and the other druidic tribes shrug and accept it. Why argue? Some years, Sinder is tiny.

They’re very careful to not let the fires stretch to Vassel.

Wet Ditch

The water druids do not like the taint of The Sopp. They build huge dams and fill their southern-most lakes with concrete and tar to slow The Sopp’s spread. It is not working.

The lakes of the water druids are the most beautiful scenery of any in all the lands.

The Dales

The forest druids. They’re forced to fell their own trees to slow the spread of Sinder. The oldest trees they have are thousands of years old, and their power stems straight from the ever living earth.

They will not fight Sinder, but would not mourn their loss.

Carth

We are rot. Breath in The Sopp and let it reign.

The Sopp has done something to them. They all hear each other over great distances.

They fight against the barren god though have no idea what it is. In a choice between desert and swampland, there’s only one choice, surely.

The Sopp

Mulched earth, rotten to the core. No foundations can be laid. Some creatures have learnt to survive it. One day, they may be all that is left.

Molton clay will often bubble up here and resolidify on the surface. This clay is perfect for homunculus.

Five pointed star faction system

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signature scrap princess art ^

scrap was talking about the idea of friends-and-foes, inspired by the MtG colour pie. It’s not something I’d heard of before, and not actually something I’ve done a tonne of research on. (I had a pretty good green-blue Cagebreakers deck back in the day, and I’m not sure how that fits with the colour pie theme.)

What I did like was the idea of using two-friends and two-foes as a framework for factions. Unrestrained creativity can sometimes be exhausting, but wrap a constraint around a thing and suddenly some sort of internal logic starts to appear.

I’m still hoping to make The Rest a fun writing project that people do. Maybe it’ll be fun to take five cards at random and fit them into this structure (which scrap called “five point star faction system”).

Five randomly drawn cards:

  • Strength.
  • The Chariot.
  • The World.
  • The Magician.
  • The Tower.

(Strength; endurance.) Ilwater was better known as The City of Water less than a generation ago, but the siege against it has all but dried up its last wells. News stopped travelling out of their a year or so again. Their numbers have fallen into the hundreds much down from the flurishing streets of yesteryear. The Waterfolk inside still man the walls. They still watch the gates. They still tend to the animals they have left. Whilst some think it’s just a matter of time before the walls crumble against the invader’s machines, there’s no doubt that the Waterfolk will fight til their last.

(The Chariot; aid to warriors.) Ilwater is not alone. The Petty Prince, though expeled from their own country, still has his spies. His might is not as it once was, but what he lacks in an army he more than makes up for it in poisons – curses of drink and of ear – which can cripple an enemy just as well. So long as Illwater stands there’s a chance he can regain his seat and his mistakes forgotten. But, when all is said and done, and the war for the small but holy town is won, he needs it to fall at his feet, and not his sisters’.

(World; as old as time.) The Merchants of Ultima see Ilwater as their last uncollected waypoint to the east. Going around it takes weeks and going through it was impossible whilst its inhabitants worshipped at their ridiculous, puritanical church of Ilmater. The war so far had cost them greatly, but the Merchants could endure for much longer, certainly longer than those pestilant fools inside.

(Magician; unnatural power over something.) Since Ilmater had turned on the Sighted Elders, and refused to offer any help to their cause, the Elders were more than happy to join the Merchants in their crusade. If they should win, Ilmater would be crippled by the loss of his major temple, or else be forced to crawl back to the other gods and beg to rejoin. No one would go to war without the knowledge that the Elders could provide – gossip and thoughts directly from the gods – and so the Merchants entered into this unlikely coalition.

(Tower; bringer of doom.) There are four royal sisters, who in their mother’s illness have wrestled control of the country and ousted their brother. The Queen would never have stood against the Merchants, but the sisters are not quite a like their mother, yet even they are smart enough to not openly fight the Merchants. Instead, they aim to move Ilmater’s holy site, in secret. Then the Merchants can do what they like with the town. Their good allies, the Elders, will be more than happy with a slightly less powerful Ilmater rocking the boat.

It’s difficult to find ways for allies to be friends with their friends’ enemies.

Highlights of some of the relationships:

Royal Sisters and Petty Prince: The Prince was the intended heir but his politics of giving his friends more power didn’t sit well with them. They’re unsure if he’s dead or not, to be quite honest.

Petty Prince and the Merchants: Supposed allies. The Merchants stand to gain a lot by the Prince being in power. They both overestimate they can manipulate the other. However, if Ilwater was to fall it would be the last nail in his political coffin. If the Merchants insist it falls, it must happen in exactly the way the Prince intends it to.

Ilwater and the Sighted Elders: The Elders have the gods by the balls – literally in some cases. They’ve successfully tracked down and captured many relics of the gods which act as their physical anchor to the Material Plane. The Elders, whose only desire is control, became enraged when Ilmater’s relic was stolen. If he’s not with them, then he is against them, and his temples must fall.