The Belgariad by David Eddings

Today, I'm going to talk about my favorite book series of all time, and its subsequent sequels, prequels, and companion text. This was, of course, none other than the epic fantasy series "The Belgariad" by David Eddings. Though Brandon Sanderson is my favorite author, the Belgariad is undoubtedly my favorite series, mainly because of the nostalgia attached to it.

I grew up with these books. Right now, I'm on my sixth reread of the entire collection of books set in that world, about two-thirds of the way through it. I've read and reread these books over a period of ten or so years, and have loved them more and more with each return to their beautiful story.

The first line of the first chapter (barring the prologue, which is sort of like a history article that explains the creation mythos) is: "The first thing the boy Garion remembered was the kitchen at Faldor's farm." That line, for the past ten years, has been my entrance into a familiar world filled with characters, places, and scenes that I love dearly, almost as if I had experienced them myself.

Our main character is a farm boy named Garion, and we see the expanding world of each novel through his inexperienced yet determined-to-understand eyes. Yes, it's a cliche--a farm boy (oh, and did I mention he's an orphan too?), but this was back in the 1980's, when this was what fantasy was--the classic quest story with the orphaned boy destined for greatness. And this is still the best version of that classic story I have ever read and probably will ever read.

David Eddings is a master of dialogue. These books are so unbelievably quotable...it's not even funny. No, I lie, it is. His dialogue is hilarious. He does banter better than almost anyone I've ever seen in fantasy, and I am consistently amazed at how well he can characterize people who are (to an extent), sort of cliches.

For a long time, I've tried to see if I could get some of my friends to read this series. At first, one of them was willing to try, though it is a long series (five books, and then a sequel series of five more, the Malloreon), and they seemed to be liking it. But it turned out that it just wasn't their thing, and I was discouraged. I kept wondering if these books weren't as good as my nostalgia was making them out to be, and the only reason I liked them so much was because I had grown up reading them. But then I remembered the Facebook group I'm a part of: "Got Belgariad?". There are hundreds of people in that group that love this series as much as I do, and that was good enough for me.

But then my brother started reading the books. And he loved them.

And then one of my best friends started reading them, and loved them too.

One of the greatest feelings in the world is sharing art that you love with someone close to you and them loving it as much as you do. I've so enjoyed talking to my brother and my best friend Miranda about this series and these characters. I also sort of envy them--they get to visit it for a first time, and I can only read it again. But it's okay, I can live vicariously through their experience.

So, in close, this series, the Belgariad by David Eddings, is incredible, and is filled with lovable characters, witty dialogue, beautiful use of language, amazing world-building, and a gripping story with an epic scope. Do yourself a favor and try them out.

And remember...never forget the cabbages!

NaNoWriMo Week #1

Well, it's Sunday afternoon and I'm right on par for my NaNoWriMo novel, To Look Skyward. 15,000 or so words, and almost three chapters in (finishing up that third one today), and I'm excited for this story. Of course, my initial ideas were shifted around and rearranged in my head even with the first words written down, and I expect that to happen more and more as I get closer to the end, but I am still super pumped to write this book, and I am super pumped for people to read it!

For this project I decided to try something a little bit different on the critiquing end--I uploaded my chapters to Google Docs and shared the links with my writing group and on a writing forum I'm a member of, allowing them to comment while while reading to give me their honest reactions as they happen. It's been super helpful so far, and I'm definitely going to keep using it. From the initial feedback I've gotten on my first chapters, the book is going well, and though there is obviously some work to do on the editing side of things--for example, I didn't get the characterization of my main character quite right in the first chapter--but that is the nature of first drafts.

(Note: If you're at all interested in reading my novel as I write it and giving me feedback, send me a text, Facebook message, email, or direct message on Twitter and let me know, I'll get you the links. I'd really appreciate any suggestions you could give me.)

So far in November, I've been listening to a custom playlist I put together just for the writing of To Look Skyward, including music from Rhian Sheehan, Johann Johannsson, Hans Zimmer's Man of Steel score (which is the theme album for the world of TLS), and soon Hans Zimmer's Interstellar score. I just finished watching that fantastic movie, and though the soundtrack has yet to be released, it will fit perfectly with the rest of the music I've set aside for TLS, with beautiful piano, organ, and strings. Sorry, I'm a film score buff.

Well, I'm off to do some editing on the first scene to rectify with the prologue I just added, and then I'm off to write more. (Shh, don't tell anyone I'm editing my novel during NaNoWriMo. I'll get in trouble.)

Have a good day, and I'll give you another update in a week!

I'm Writing A Lot

Hello there! It's been a while since my last post, but for somewhat of a good reason: there wasn't a whole lot to talk about. But now there is! And so I will spill the beans.

Writing: During the two weeks my family was on vacation, I wrote a total of 11,068 words, which was fantastic! Obviously not as much as I could have gotten done, but a significant amount when compared to what I usually get done. In that time, I wrote a short story to its completion (Annoyance In The Air, which needs some revision, but should be finished soon), and another short story almost to its completion before I realized that I was going to have to scrap the whole thing because it was way too complicated to be a short story. I also got closer to completing Spend A Winter In Hell, but got stuck on the ending of that, and am going to run it by some people to get their input, and false started another short story that turned out to also be too complicated (this is me trying to put too many magic powers in a short story), but did provide a springboard for a very interesting character arc that I'll use later.

Since then, I've been doing some editing on short stories and my novella, while worldbuilding and outlining for my NaNoWriMo novel, To Look Skyward. I still have a lot of worldbuilding to do before I'll be completely satisfied with everything I need to know about the world, but tomorrow is when NaNoWriMo starts, so I'll have to be quick about that if I want it done before I have to start putting words to paper. All in all, though, I'm very satisfied with how the outlining process has been going. I've done more outlining than I usually do on a project (but recently it has all been shorter stories, so there's that), and I think the first half of the story is pretty solid in terms of story structure as a result. The last half, though... I still need to work on that. I have a feeling that once I hit that I'll either have a wonderful shot of inspiration and figure out the direction I need to go...or I'll need to brainstorm with my writer friends about where the heck I'm supposed to go with it.

Just as an aside, I also came up with a very interesting short story idea a couple days ago, as a result of one of the writing sprints for a NaNo Write-in. I didn't have time to go into it very fully, as I needed to focus on To Look Skyward, but I'm excited to write that in December sometime.

Music: Well, it looks like my plan to go to a recording studio in October has been postponed, because of crazy schedules on both sides, and so that's not going to happen until sometime later. But that's okay. I have recording equipment that suits my needs, and a good program to work with, so I can have fun with demos for now. I've been slowly but surely working on A Promise To Write's demo, but it still needs more work before I'll be satisfied with it. I did make an acoustic demo of my newest song, entitled "The Girl", and so there's that. I really like this song, so hopefully soon I'll release it somewhere. I also have the opportunity to play one of my original songs (with the rest of the worship band accompanying me) at my church this Sunday, so that's exciting. I'll be playing Somebody Has To Start, which is one of my favorites that I've written.

I'm planning on recording a rather special song in early December (after the craziness of NaNoWriMo dies down), but it's a secret as to what it's ultimate goal is, so I will not say anything more.

Reading: If you're at all interested in what I'm reading right now, you can follow me on Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/Xcarthan12 -- as of now I'm reading through a bunch of different books, some non-fiction, but mostly fiction. Part of that is my annual reread of the Belgariad and the Malloreon series by David Eddings, ten books of absolute awesomeness that formed a significant portion of my childhood.

Listening: So, the other day, I fell in love with a New Zealander composer named Rhian Sheehan. You should go check out his music. Right now. It's so beautiful. http://rhiansheehan.bandcamp.com/

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Well, that's about all, so I'll sign off. Hopefully this is interesting to you in some way.

I Am Currently Writing... Clock Strikes Death

Hello there, internet world. Yes, I know I said this was being resurrected and then proceeded not to write anything for weeks. I'm forgetful like that. Anyway, I thought I'd actually write something now, so yeah! That's something, at least. 

For the past few months I've been working on a novella entitled "Clock Strikes Death". As it stands right now, it's about 13,000 words, but it should be somewhere around 18,000-20,000 when it's completed. I haven't been spending nearly enough time as I wanted to writing it (or as much time as should have, for that matter), but it's almost finished now, and I can see the finish line. My plan is to finish the first draft by the end of this week, and then put it aside next week as I head off on the Student Leader Camping Trip. I have another short story idea that I brainstormed with Trevor Sigmund, one of my close friends, that I want to (hopefully) write while I'm there. That should be considerably shorter, however, and I have the entire story pretty heavily outlined in my head, unlike what is usually the case with stories I write. 

After I come back from that trip, I'll give Clock Strikes Death to some alpha readers, get some input back, and then go into a second draft of that story, which will tackle the several structural problems I know exist in the narrative, and probably a few I didn't. After that, I'll give it to beta readers, who will give me final input on whatever else needs to be fixed, and then it should mostly be done. Most of my prose is pretty clean, so after maybe one or two language/prose/dialogue passes after that, I'll probably put it up on Noisetrade, and then I'll start submitting it to some different markets. I hear TOR has a new novella imprint... 

*laugh silently at myself* In your dreams, kid, in your dreams.

For those who don't know, Clock Strikes Death is part of the setting I like to call, "Clockwork Cowboy", which is part of the 374th Cycle mega-setting in which all of my fantasy books (and the ones that my brother Connor, Trevor, and my friend David will eventually write, hint, hint, nudge, nudge) take place. I say Clockwork Cowboy, but that's kind of a silly way of explaining the setting. It is basically a fantasy western/clockpunk setting, which may also seem silly, but is in actuality a fantasy borrowing elements from westerns and incorporating fantastical clockwork-based technology. While writing it, I also realized it had a lot more grimdark-iness than I originally thought it would have, and subsequently scrapped the theme album I had selected for it, Hans Zimmer's score for The Lone Ranger. 

Also, for those who didn't know, I select theme albums for almost everything I write, film scores that capture the mood I want for that book/world. I still haven't really decided on another one for the Clockwork Cowboy setting, but I do enjoy The Shawshank Redemption, so that may end up being the theme album.

Anyway, I should really get back to Clock Strikes Death, since I only have until Saturday to finish it, and I have plenty of other things to get done this week. Before I go, I will leave you with a little tease of the novella:

                                                                                                                                                

A ringing in Declan's ears chimed the hour. Nine o'clock. Time to die.

He jolted upright in his cot, tense, waiting for the inevitable sound of booted feet come to drag him away to Eternity. All was silent, however, save the muted tick, tock of his heart. The prison bars before him were a dark, unfriendly grey that seemed to grin at him like the teeth of an arrowbelly. His cell was cramped and freezing, the fireplace just outside its iron door reduced to ashes and offering nothing in the way of warmth. Just like the one other time he had been unfortunate enough to get himself locked away in one of these bunker-prisons. Declan strained to hear anything that would signal that someone was coming for him. He waited for a minute, then two, then five. A half an hour passed as he listened to the muffled ticking of the second hand, and still no one arrived.

Declan frowned, still laying on his cot. He hadn't seen any human guards since he had been thrown into this dark pit of a prison, and only once had he seen any clockwork--a Sentinel, who had silently performed its duty of giving him a plate of dried rations and a tin cup full of water, and then left, emotionless face haunting as always. He had always hated those cold, emotionless monsters.

Where was everyone? Declan stood to his feet and made his way to the iron bars, holding them tightly with calloused hands. He wore nothing but the underclothes he had been wearing the night before--dark grey shirt and trousers that reeked of sweat. Had they decided to just leave him down here to starve? Ironically, that would be a more certain fate than a bullet to the head, at this point. The only chance he had was in the journey from here to the figurative gallows. He had one more trick up his sleeve-literally-but it relied on the hallway just outside the room adjacent to his cell. If he could just get out there…

Declan cursed himself--not for the first time since his imprisonment--for not seeing the ventilation shaft on the way in until it was too late. If his jailor had fumbled for just a moment longer with his keys, he might not be in this mess right now. He would be halfway to Bunnell Creek, laughing at the stupidity of lawmen.

Well, he wasn't laughing now. If no one came to get him, he was dead. Declan couldn't think of a logical reason why they wouldn't come, but he couldn't help worrying nonetheless. He had bad luck. Blasted horrible luck, at that. Come on…you want to see me suffer, right, Biggs? I know you do. Don't just leave me here; you want to see my face when I die. He couldn't believe he was hoping for someone to try and kill him--it just didn't seem right--but that was the only thing that would save him now.

That ventilation shaft…that was the key. Declan had one Card left, his most valuable. He had saved it for years, never wanting to use it, for fear he would never find another one. They only made that kind of clockwork in Enlord City, and they were one of the most powerful types. Luckily, the guards hadn't taken his boots. They'd checked inside, of course--to make sure he didn't have a hidden weapon of some sort. But almost no one expected a boot to have a secret compartment like his did, holding an item so rare and valuable, men would kill a hundred times over to get their hands on it.

Declan liked to be prepared, even in situations that were out of his control. Especially in situations that were out of his control.

Blessedly, footsteps sounded in the hallway moments later, coming with it a hope of escape. It wasn't the metallic clank of a clockwork, but the booted steps of a man. They were coming to get him. Finally.

Declan reviewed the plan of escape in his mind as the sound grew closer. He could get out of this, if he was clever. The prison was very secure, that much was true, buried in the earth a hundred feet down, but it had one weakness. It turned out that there wasn't much air down in the bowels of Orlam, and so you needed to have some sort of ventilation system to filter air through the tunnels, or else anything stuck down here would suffocate. Not the clockwork, of course, they didn't need air, but anything living. A prisoner lucky enough to get inside that ventilation system could, potentially, make their way to the surface and escape. The only problem was that the shafts used to filter the air were entirely vertical, and a hundred feet high. That meant, despite the route to freedom built into the design, no one had ever successfully made it out alive.

Until today.

                                                                                                                                            

Oh, and here's a fake cover I made for it the other day. I obviously can't use this on Noisetrade because...it's someone else's art. But hey, it perfectly gets the theme across, so here you go:

And here is the theme song of the novella. Now that I think about it, Shawshank Redemption is definitely the theme album.

Writing and Representation

For people wondering why I am intensely interested in writing fantasy (as you can probably tell from just reading a few of these blog posts), here are some clarifications.

Well, to put it simply, I love it. Fantasy is my favorite genre of fiction, and has been for a long, long time now. I read fantasy almost constantly, and enjoy the possibilities and intricacies of the genre immensely.

For those of you who don't know, what my friends and I have done is created a fantasy universe with an overarching story in which to separately write different books in said universe. We all have our separate novels and series' planned, all set in the same galaxy and connecting to the larger story.

And we have magic. Contrary to popular belief, magic in fiction is not evil. Obviously, magic in the real world is a bad thing, because God expressly forbids it--and because there are demons behind it. But "magic" in the fantasy setting we've created (and almost every fantasy setting ever created) is simply a way of having the characters do things that normal people can't do. It isn't evil--it's simply a part of their world.

Now, there are demons in the setting as well. They aren't really demons in the real sense of the word, rather a race of beings that was corrupted by the main baddie of the universe, a guy we named Chaos. But these demons represent the real thing, and are an active and dangerous part of the universe, tempting and corrupting people. It is established very early on that these demons are evil, and the powers they give people are also evil.

The premise of the story is a battle between Good and Evil. The fine details of the plot have yet to be put in stone, but the basic story revolves around this battle. "God", as in the real God that is the Creator of our universe, is not in this galaxy (at least, I don't think so, we haven't actually ironed out the details yet), but we have set up our books to be allegories (though very subtle ones) about different spiritual truths and moral problems.

For example, one of the worlds in the galaxy has a type of magic that revolves around truth and lies. The basis of the novel written on that world is going to be focused on the morality of truth. My own series, The Proanadi, is built to be a representation of the journey of redemption, along with a lot of other spiritual truths about friendship, revenge, and other things.

As a Christian, I understand that the only thing that really matters in this world is serving Jesus, serving others, and telling others about Jesus. And I want to do this by writing books. I want to give people good entertainment, but get them thinking about spiritual truths and moral issues, as well as allegories that represent things about Jesus and other spiritual things. And I want to write fiction in which the junk that permeates our society now is nonexistent. I want to show people that you can write books without swearing and sex scenes. And that it will actually be better without it.

But that's just me.

History, Mythology, and Maps

I know I haven't updated this in forever, but that's mostly been because I've been involved in other writing--and heavily involved at that. As I near the finish of the first part of The Proanadi, I realized that I needed to really nail down the history and mythology of the races and kingdoms involved. There were plenty of sections when I hinted at both events in the past and various gods, but most of that, I admit, was made up on the spot, and all of it wasn't very well thought out.

So for the past few weeks I've been really digging into the past and the religion of the kingdoms that take a major role in The Proanadi, and what I've found is pretty cool. For one, I made a comprehensive timeline spanning from the beginning of civilization as the world knew it to the present day--well, more like ten comprehensive timelines, each from a different kingdom's viewpoint. I'll put them together soon, with all of the events of the nations in one place.

Second, I made the various pantheons of deities that each race pays homage to. The way gods work in the world of The Proanadi is similar to the way Tolkien's world of Middle Earth and the Undying Lands works. A higher power created the gods and set them in the world as stewards, each watching over a particular aspect or function in the world. In the misty past of Serragon, the world on which The Proanadi takes place, groups of stewards who were like-minded gathered together and made races that also shared their mindset. These races split into groups themselves, and the stewards split with them, until a few dozen separate groups of cultures, with their own gods, had developed.

Now that I had this foundation in mind, the things I wrote in my novel had meaning. The things the characters were talking about had depth, and the gods that they spoke of had history and a foundation in the culture of the kingdom. It was pretty cool.

Not only that, but I've also updated my world map--extensively. Originally, the two areas where the book takes place in (Torius/Azatharia for Nimlar, Daelis, and Striker; and Umhati for Poddle, Daegoth, and Tahlavel) were miles and miles apart. I had a big problem trying to figure out a way to get them going towards the same place.

But a month or two ago, I had an idea. I started a hotseat game of Civilization V, in which every civilization represented one from my story. The map that was generated--with a little tweaking--was absolutely perfect. It landed the Crossroad Kingdoms just north of Umhati--solving one problem--and gave me great locations to set the various nations in.

Since then the world has really come alive with history, mythology, sociology, and geography. And I love it. This is one of my great passions--creating a race's culture and constructed their past. I find it immensely satisfying to build the backstory for a story's world, almost as much as I like writing the story itself.

Well, that's my update. Sorry that there's nothing mind-bogglingly monumental in this post--I'll try to think of something a little bit more stupendous for next time.

Thanks, and good reading!

The Rules of Creation

My brother Connor, my best friend Trevor, and I got together one day almost a year ago now and decided to make a world. We started talking about this world, who would live in it, what it would be like, and how we could make it unique. With a random idea and a roll on a chart (and a lot of refining), we thought up the world that would be the backdrop for the story known as The Rules of Creation.

The world operates on the premise that a powerful being called the Creator roams the universe, creating worlds and populating them with diverse life and intricate designs. He creates these worlds with an incredibly powerful substance: his own blood. Using this "Kingsblood", which, whimsically, has been referred to as "creative juices", the Creator made the tapestries and art of the universe, making each planet with unique and utterly amazing lifeforms that functioned perfectly in their chosen world and environments. When he was done creating the worlds, the excess Kingsblood would be "dried up" and become the lava which resides in the worlds' cores.

Where the world of The Rules of Creation comes in is here: the Creator had started on another world, forming it with his blood, when something happened. It is not specified what event took place, but whatever occurred, the process of creation was interfered with, leaving a half-formed blob literally seething with excess Kingsblood.

That's where the epicness begins.

It turns out that, left unchecked, Kingsblood takes on a life of it's own, and begins to create independently of it's designer. In the initial years after the planet's birth and subsequent forming and shaping, great sprays of Kingsblood rocked the world, creating plants, animals, and sentient beings in amazing complexity.

After thousands of years of turmoil and chaos, something happened--something still unknown--which changed the world and considerably diminished the amount of Kingsblood activity over the face of the earth. Kingsblood was still a very essential part of the world, however, and lay across the world in lakes, bubbling ponds, and--still active in some cases--geysers and volcanoes.

The world began to realize that Kingsblood could be harvested--and controlled--and since then, the nations haven't been the same. A great nation of humans, luckily located near one of the greatest areas for the harvesting of Kingsblood has shaped their kingdom to revolve around this powerful substance: harvesting and selling it in mass quantities, capturing and selling new creations as geysers make them, and studying and researching the liquid, eventually creating a whole science out of it.

About this time, one of the greatest scientists ever to walk the face of the earth wrote a book that would help all of the sentient races of the world understand Kingsblood: this book was named The Rules of Creation. This tome compiled a list of circumstances, conditions, and rules that defined how things were created using Kingsblood. Even though the chaotic forces of Kingsblood lacked the Creator to guide their design, the functionality of the creations were obvious and complex, and always seemed to fit their environment. In other words, a creation was always fully functional, able to survive their immediate extremities, and had features that specifically benefited them.

What was created was directly related to the amount of Kingsblood that was released, and the velocity in which it hit a surface (for to create something, Kingsblood had to have sufficient time to activate under the effects of oxygen, and had to hit something with enough force). How much Kingsblood there was determined either how many creations were made and/or how big they were. The velocity determined the complexity of the creation.

What it hit also had effects: if Kingsblood hits a desert for instance, the creation is specifically designed for that environment. If it happens in water, the creation is designed for aquatic behavior, whether it be fresh or salt. And all this it does instantaneously. Numerous and amazing creations abound in the world, and all are specifically suited for their terrains and have been designed for functionality.

It is in this world that our story begins...

• The balancing force that has kept the Kingsblood checked for centuries now is suddenly disrupted, and the earth begins to careen towards how it was in the years of chaos following it's birth. Since the people that inhabit the world didn't know what kept it balanced in the first place, they have no way to restore it, and as such are helpless to stop the oncoming torrent of destruction... er, creation.
• A mysterious singular sentient has appeared in a recent geyser blast of Kingsblood, shocking amvasologists (scientists studying the substance) in the region. This person appeared in a torrent that created a number of other creatures all similar, except for him, the black sheep of the bunch. Now this goes against everything the world knows of Kingsblood, since anything that is created in a particular blast is always related somehow, and there is rarely ever a singular person made, since the Rules of Creation state that the thing that is created has to be able to reproduce in some way.
• A particularly bright scientist and scholar of many subjects (AKA our hero), gets his hands on said mysterious stranger, and begins to study the strangely mute individual, trying to learn more about this odd occurrence. He is confronted with other rival scholars and unscrupulous businessmen, all trying to get their hands on the individual, for their own selfish reasons.
• This individual (as the reader learns from scenes with him as the viewpoint character), is amnesiac--he has no idea who he is, what he can do, and how to go about in this world. Which is another oddity--created beings are always aware of what they can do and how to survive (and how to communicate, at least in their own tongue), per the Rules of Creation. This individual seems to learn extraordinarily quickly however, learning the local language just by observing the young scholar who is studying him, a fact which even he does not understand.
• As the mystery deepens, the scholar and the strange being are dragged into the situation involving the disintegration of the balancing force that checked the King's Blood, and learn why it is happening, and how to stop it. 

There is more--much more--but I cannot reveal it, lest it ruin the book for you. But those are the main points. I hope you enjoyed reading the idea, and I hope you like it well enough to read it when we finish writing it (which will take a while, because of the epic scope of the story and the world).

The Nine Disciplines

I've been agonizing about not having a very good magic system for my novels, but a few month ago, that finally changed. Below is a set of guidelines and lists for my magic system, known as the Nine Disciplines. This is the magic system I am using for my series, The Proanadi, as well as the world in which the scene Prisoner is set in. If you read closely, you can figure out how Alaeph can do what he does.

The way it works is thus: any known magic-user has access to one, several, or all of these Disciplines. All "magic" as people know it derives itself ultimately from the Nine Disciplines. Where magic-users differ is WHERE they get their power from--their power source. There can also be differences in areas of focus, and ways that they use the different disciplines (because, the possibilities within the Disciplines are almost unlimited).

Here are the Nine Disciplines below, grouped as they would be commonly, with three groups of three:

The Nine Disciplines

Material

1 Physical (change in physical matter)

2 Sensory (change in perception)

3 Elemental (manipulation of the elements)

Ultramaterial

1 Influential (change in feeling)

2 Intellectual (change in thought)

3 Essential (manipulation of life energies)

Supernal

1 Continuous (disruptions in space or time)

2 Creative (creation of new energy or matter)

3 Potential (manipulation of force)

Examples of something being done with each Discipline below:

Physical: Enhances your (or another's) strength

Sensory: Tricking another individual's perceptions, making you effectively invisible

Elemental: Shooting fire from your hands

Influential: Providing a morale boost to your comrades

Intellectual: Tampering with someone's memory

Essential: Bringing someone back to life

Continuous: Teleportation (space) or slowing time (time)

Creative: Creating food and water out of nothing

Potential: Throwing up a wall of pure force

Now, there are many different limitations and tricks associated with each Discipline, and points where they overlap, but different Disciplines work better in different situations. Where the line is drawn between the different types of magic-users in the world comes from one major thing (though there are other, less important differences): Power Source. Where do they derive their power from?

Below is a list of some magic-users and their power sources:

Wizards – Power through learning (words and rituals that channel the energy)

Clerics – Power through prayer*

Sorcerers – Power through lineage (having some form of magical creature’s blood in your DNA)

Favored Soul – Power through divine connection*

Dragosamns – Power through dragon totems (similar to Stewardic power)**

Roshi – Power through Chaos**

Druids – Power through natural connection and energy

Talir-Knights – Power through one’s own energy

Demons – Power through destruction (breaking down of matter or energy)

* Both Clerics and Favored Souls gain their ultimate power from the Stewards. Only the means are different.

** Although both Roshi and Dragosamns gain their abilities through their dragon blood, their actual power sources come from outside their bloodline, unlike sorcerers.

Different ways of organizing the same categories of energy are found below:

Clerical Blessings

Earthly Blessings

1 Physical (Blessing of the Flesh)

2 Sensory (Blessing of the Eyes)

3 Influential (Blessing of the Heart)

4 Intellectual (Blessing of the Mind)

Holy Blessings

1 Elemental (Blessing of the Burning Blood)

2 Essential (Blessing of the Living Blood)

3 Potential (Blessing of the Compelling Blood)

Heavenly Blessings

1 Continuous (Blessing of the Soaring Soul/Eternal Soul)

2 Creative (Blessing of the Inceptive Soul)

Dragosamn Totems

Physical (Totem of Substance)

Sensory (Totem of Image)

Elemental (Totem of [Insert Element Name Here])

Influential (Totem of Presence/Inspiration)

Intellectual (Totem of Reason)

Essential (Totem of Blood)

Continuous (Totem of Foresight/Passage/Intervention)

Creative (Totem of Origin)

Potential (Totem of Impact)

That is the extent of it, but there is much more in the way of details to be ironed out with this system. Thanks for reading, and I hope you liked it!

Prisoner

Today I sat down to write. But I wasn't sure what to write. So many ideas were running through my head, but none of them were ready to be worked on yet. So I tried something I hadn't done in a while--I wrote something completely random.

A website I like, Chaoticshiny.com, is filled with random generators for writing and role-playing games. One specific generator is a writing exercise generator. It gives you something random to write about, whether it be "Write for at least 250 words about a purchase, a rodent, and a payment." or "Write for at least two minutes about a heroic deed, a thug, and a businessman."

With no thought beforehand, I ran the generator, and came up with: "Write for at least five minutes about a prison and a bottle. Focus on creating one compelling character." And so I wrote a random scene, set in the world of my trilogy, the Proanadi. But in a completely distant section of the world that I hadn't worked on much before--an elven nation in the east with a pseudo-Asian culture, Peraian.

And that is where Alaeph and Hatrex were born. Here is the full scene, at least, as much as I've written so far.

Prisoner

Alaeph sat up in his cell, head thumping from a hangover. He pressed a hand to his temple and sighed, wondering how he had gotten here. The iron bars of the cell door were rusted, only barely hanging on their hinges, and the floor of the small, cramped chamber was incredibly dirty. Alaeph cringed, taking his hand away from the side of his head. As he feared, it was covered in a thick layer of grime.

Lovely, the Perenari thought, wiping the hand on his silk trousers. Another pair of pants soiled. At least this time it’s not directly my fault.

“You’ve made quite a mess of yourself,” a voice said from outside the cell. The owner was another elf wearing a cotton uniform, a gold badge pinned to the front. Some sort of prison guard? The clothing is a bit too nice, though…

Alaeph ignored him and shook out his fatigue, getting to his feet and looking around. Pale light filtered in from a small barred window at the corner of the room, and though it only slightly illuminated the tiny chamber, it was like fire to Alaeph’s sensitive eyes.

”You are a matter of public record, my friend,” the guard continued, taking a drink from a cup. Alaeph’s eyes adjusted to the light, and he saw clearly now that the man sat at a wood table a few feet away from the door of the cell, in the corner of the chamber beyond the iron bars. “You’ve been arrested seventeen times in the last six months. Three of those times for disturbing the peace, seven for thievery, three for resisting arrest, and the other four for public indecency.”

“I was under extraneous circumstances,” Alaeph said off-handedly, squinting at the guard as his eyes tried to fight through the stabbing pain that the light caused. “Who are you, again?”

“My name is Hatrex,” the guard said, taking another drink from his cup. “I'm the jamini of the city you just shocked so profoundly.”

Of course, Alaeph thought. That explains the badge.

“Why are you here, Hatrex?” Alaeph asked, his curiosity heightened suddenly. “Couldn’t a less important man be sent to coddle me while I rot in this cell?”

“You know why I’m here,” Hatrex said, smiling. “I really don’t think I have to mention the sixteen times you’ve broken out of prison under the noses of less important men.”

Alaeph didn’t return the jamini’s smile. “You won’t be able to stop me. No one else has, and I don’t plan on living out the rest of my life in a filthy hole in the ground.”

“We’ll see about that, my little magician,” Hatrex said. Alaeph gave him a look, and the jamini smiled again. “Yes, I know about your little secret.”

“You don’t know the half of it, lawman,” Alaeph retorted, turning away. The elf sat deliberately on the other side of the cell, facing away from the man. “We’ll see how important you really are in a few moments.”

Alaeph crossed his legs, concentrating. He cleared his mind and brought the force of his will to bear, channeling the energy around him, and causing it to flow into the Continuous Discipline.

And then, Alaeph stopped time.

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Who is Alaeph, and how is he capable of stopping time itself? How did he commit the crimes he did, and for what reason? Who exactly is Hatrex?

I have no idea. But I'm hoping, as I write a little more of this, I will start to understand it myself. This is pretty short, and mostly improvised, just making it up as I went along, but I feel there is a story here--something bigger that I have yet to unravel.

We'll see where this goes, and if I go anywhere with it. But that's all for now--thanks for reading this!

Note: A jamini is just a word that sounded exotic that I used for a profession that is basically a sheriff. The role a jamini plays might change as I figure this budding story out, but that's the basis of it.

The Proanadi

As some of you may know, I am in the process of writing an epic fantasy (swords, magic, armies, dragons...  you know, the works) trilogy entitled The Proanadi. I've actually been in that process for over a year now, but I've only gotten about a hundred pages done--mostly because I've only seriously buckled down and began plugging away at it for a few months now. The funny thing is, that hundred pages, sixty-two thousand words, and eleven chapters is only Part 1 (and that part isn't even finished yet!) of an enormous work that is going to take years to complete.

The story is based off the adventures my friends and I played through in a role-playing game, albeit loosely. There are six prominent characters (bumped up to eight in the second book), each played by one of my good friends in our game. The plot has changed drastically since I first decided that I wanted to write a book (now trilogy) detailing the characters, places, and events that occurred in our collective storytelling effort--so drastically, in fact, that the world of our game is vastly different in every way from the world I've begun to create for The Proanadi. 

For those of you who didn't know I was writing a book, and haven't read anything I've written yet, never fear! As soon as I finish and then polish up the first part of the first book, known by the working title Incipient, I'm going to try to get it to anyone who is interested. If you end up reading it, I hope you enjoy it! I've put some serious blood, sweat, tears, and nausea behind those hundred or so pages. 

And for those of you who are interested in it now, here's a brief synopsis for you to hang on to:

A horror that the planet has never known corrupts all.

Those that protected the world are dead, their blood spilled at the hands of men who once shared their convictions. The land is ravaged by war, hunger, plague, death, as it eats itself from the inside out. First, the hearts of men, then the souls of those once noble are devoured. Even the heroes now cower at the darkness that lies at the threshold of the meager light that remains. 

The sins of the fathers break the lives of the sons.

Ordinary men, their blood fating them to become saviors, try to fight a force they cannot begin to understand. A swordsmith has everything taken away from him. A rebel desperately tries to regain his usurped throne. A monster stained with his misdeeds sinks further into despair. 

 A single drop of redemption falls into an ocean of blood. 

Secrets that none possess reveal the past, a stained history of nobility intertwined with horrible sins. The world stands on the brink, awaiting those that would decide its fate, for good or ill. A creature with the blood of a dragon is king and god. A merchant betrayed faces his curse. A man with no memories is torn by his mistakes. 

The ground underfoot begins to crumble.

Yes, I know that's a little vague, but it's actually quite simple. Just reading the first part allows you to understand fully this little synopsis. Well, that's all for now--I'll be updating the blog with news of how the writing is going, as well as some different snippets of scenes and writing I've done for this or other works of mine. I know what you're thinking: "Wait, he's writing other books, too?" Yes, yes I am. None of my other ideas are in any way as fleshed out as this one, but I do have plenty of other novels in the works, including a series about superheroes, and an enormous collective novel (another epic fantasy work, though much more unique) written by some of my friends and I .

All right, that's about it. Thanks for reading these ramblings (unless you just skimmed this and saw the bottom line, then shame on you!)