Are Any On My Dash Brave Enough To Do Nanowrimo? I'm Considering It But Am Not Sure. It's A Big, Scary

Are any on my dash brave enough to do nanowrimo? I'm considering it but am not sure. It's a big, scary commitment and I'm not good at any of those three words. However, if there's anything I've learned it's that things are less scary with the buddy system.

Thank you so much for the Tag, @thetruearchmagos!!!

I'll go with the worldbuilding from Tales of Wilted Flowers for this one, because I talked about The Last Wrath's worldbuilding in this light a lot in other posts!

When it comes to organizations (or organization-like communities) in Ravaryn, the main ones that come to mind are the Starthread Coven, the dryads of the Whispering Forests, and the pirates from Fleetspire.

Starthread Coven -

A renowned witches coven, the Starthread were respected far and wide across all of the lands of Ravaryn. Their ranks were strict yet open to all, inspiring the flourishing of the magical arts and those talented in it. They were entrusted with a secret - and ancient knowledge - which they swore to protect with their lives, which - for generations - they had succeeded in. Until Lord Eldryc came along, dealing a critical blow to this ancient organization, and changing it forever.

Usually, the witches accepted newcomers through trials that would test their spirit and magical prowess, determining whether or not they would be worthy of learning the knowledge stored in their vast libraries. One could also be born into one of the many witch clans and Houses throughout the land, though they would attend the ritual trials all the same, they would be considered a witch by birth - though not an official member of the Covens. Arista Bryar - a half-vampire girl - grew up within one of the most powerful strongholds of the Coven.

The Starthread Witches view the world as an open book, considering knowledge and progress as the ultimate goals a society should strive for, as well as having strict codes of honor. They were very proud, especially when it came to defending their beliefs - and King Tieran considered them a threat when they refused to bow to his orders.

This organization was formed many centuries before the main story, when the First Witches were gathered, and swore to protect the new lands born after the defeat of darkness. They swore to uphold the old ways and maintain the magical barrier between worlds holding strong. To this day, such was their sworn goal. Some say the first witches were demigods - descendants of the fallen goddess who created the lands, others that they were the first faeries. Both stories could be true, or both could be false, as records of the origin of their magic have been lost in the sands of time, even to their highest leaders.

They view all races and species as equal, though some of their members consider some cities more civilized than others. Warfare is abhorred in their culture, but not ignored.

Dryads of the Whispering Forests -

In Ravaryn, Dryads are the more dangerous "cousins" of common faefolk, living deep in the untamed lands of the Whispering Forests - a place where the woods came alive as one living, breathing being. They are protectors of nature, considering themselves to be one with it - which is quite true to some extent - and they rarely ever leave their hidden kingdoms within the Forests. To protect their home and keep themselves alive, dryads often resort to drastic measures, not being the most diplomatic of all folk, and isolating themselves from the world outside their forests. Some kingdoms consider them "human-killers" due to their strict no-outsider policies when it comes to their territories, but dryads are not always violent - only when it's the last resort (when a human blatantly disrespects their territory/threatens the forest/hurts them). But usually, they merely urge outsiders to leave, sometimes aiding them, if need be.

They are known for the arts of trickery and illusion, often using spells of said nature to ward off invaders and even other forms of magic itself that may come to cause them harm.

Dryads are a species/race, not an organization (though they have their own form of government, military, and religion). Being - as mentioned before- more in tune with the wilder side of nature and isolated within their forests, they rarely ever allow newcomers/outsiders to join their cities - it is even said that no living human has ever seen what a Dryad City looks like from the inside. In the books, however, there is one notable exception - Eiralis Corben, a human girl adopted by Dryads as an infant, after showing strange signs of connection to wild magic, and raised by one of the most prominent Dryad families as an official member of their society. One of her many adoptive siblings - her oldest brother, Kaellel - became an Anwireh (an important figure in dryad society, holding military and social importance, being similar to a commander of sorts)

Dryad culture was shaped into what it is today by many events throughout its history, being one of the most ancient societies currently living in Ravaryn, having come into existence along with the first forests. At that time, the continent was a place of fading light, governed by corrupt rulers - and an equally merciless goddess. Many wars took place in that time, but one was especially important to Dryad society - the Banishing War, where heroes of the land stood up against the crooked Deity that governed the lands, banishing her and the dark magic she brought into being. During that war, many innocents paid the price of the dying goddess' wrath - but Dryads were hit the hardest, being almost wiped out by the Deity's last attempt to remain in power. When she was defeated, their numbers had already diminished significantly - some dryads blamed their alliance with humankind for their misfortune, believing to have been betrayed like lambs to slaughter, which led them to isolate within their last stronghold - the Whispering Forests - adopting many of their current beliefs.

Pirates of Fleetspire:

The "kingdom" of Fleetspire is located in a rocky seaside cove and is home to some of the most cutthroat and renowned pirates there ever was. They're feared by most of the kingdom's navies, especially so in the Lydean Sea.

For many years, the pirate overlords were led by one Pirate King, the mysterious young captain Meridian Grimshail. He upheld a strict code of honor, making the dangerous waters of the Lydean Sea safe for civilians and foreign merchants alike, but a nightmare to King Tieran Kallasen's navy officers. Meridian's ship was known as the Scourge of the Crown, for this precise reason.

Fleetspire thrived under his rule, becoming one of the richest - and most untouchable - unofficial nations of Ravaryn. The pirates grew rich with his help, so their loyalty was unquestionable- for some - and when it wasn't, well, Meridian made sure mutinies were not easily tolerated. That is, until, he disappeared. No one knew what became of him - except for his daughter, the only one who found out he had been cursed.

Anyone could thrive in Fleetspire - if they were cunning and reckless enough to try. Pirate captains were always in need of new crew, as long as they proved they had what it took to handle the perilous journeys to the heart of the Lydean Sea. Meridian Grimshail insisted that anyone could be anything in the pirates' city. Over time, he commanded such a great number of ships and inspired such respect, that even foreign pirate lords and the King himself grew to hesitate picking fights with his fleet.

He was a good pirate - a former navy officer of the King himself - who fought for the good of his people, rebelling against his former liege. In the past, when he discovered the truth about King Tieran's rule, Meridian resigned from his position as a Crown Navy Officer, running away to the up to then backwater city of Fleetspire, where he rose in ranks until his name became a legend, and his fleet proved strong enough to face the King's. Many of his own crew had similar backgrounds, but many did not.

Pirates of Fleetspire are known for their prowess at sea, even being allied to the dangerous merfolk that lurk in their waters. Their knowledge of magic proved valuable, giving them yet another edge against the King's navy. They're also great strategists, their captains often being known for their daring and bold plans.

World building Wednesday!

Hey all! Arch here, back this week with another Prompt! Despite being really damn out of it right now, I hope it's useful!

I'd love to know more about some of the internal cultures surrounding various groups in your setting! How does the organisation handle newcomers into the fold, or changes in its goals or circumstances? What, or who, did most to shape this shared culture, and what do those within the organisation think of themselves and the group?

Tagging @athenswrites @caxycreations @dogmomwrites @hessdalen-globe @theprissythumbelina @writeblrsupport @lividdreamz @mysticstarlightduck @moonscribbler @thatndginger @username-cause-i-need-one and anyone else who'd like to take part!

TRICK OR TREAT

OH MY GOODNESS THAT DRAWING IS ADORABLE!!!!!!

Thank you for the ask, @gummybugg!

I wasn't sure what to give you as an answer to this ask, but eventually, I decided to post this! It's a snappy lil' snippet from Tales of Wilted Flowers (mostly a dialogue exchange between Xarian and Caladin that I really liked!)

Context: After escaping a series of rather life-threatening events, the team (at this point consisting of Xarian, Lorelai, and a couple of their friends) settles down to camp overnight, and a rather brutally honest rant takes place.

"So let me get this straight - a false King, a scheme from the most ancient sorcerer Houses, and a wrathful Banished." Caladin began, tapping his knee with the back of his knuckles as he listed their current misfortunes, half-heartedly, sitting on a fallen tree at the edge of their camp. "Remind me why I have anything to do with this, again?"

Lorelai cheerfully turned towards him, ready to answer, but Xarian was quicker to interrupt. He was done with Caladin's carelessness.

"Well, for starters, you did take out a squad of mercenaries - very loudly - with a power that I've only seen once in my entire life. In front of that whole village, and the Royal Guard. I want to know why you - a human - hold such magic and why." As Xarian got up and all but paced around the clearing, Caladin listened on with clear disinterest, as if more busy sharpening his sword than paying attention.

The fae scowled, exasperatedly teleporting the sword halfway across their camp with one flick of his wrist, putting the blade far away from Caladin's distracted hands.

Earning an annoyed glare from the young human, Xarian continued answering through a bitter laugh, vitriol barely hidden behind his calm explanation.

"And, of course, since you made the decision to save me and my friends, a decision which - by all means - you weren't obliged to make, you're now wanted in all corners of the kingdom, same as us." Xarian gestured widely, between them both and the others, who were watching his explanation with a mix of concern and awe.

"Your only real shot at making it out alive is seeing this mess - a mess that you're currently a very important part of - through to the end. Unless, of course, you fancy getting a very private tour of the gallows, when the royal soldiers inevitably catch us all, my not-so-dear friend." He paused, now muttering under his breath, through gritted teeth. "That is if you don't make me completely lose my patience and do something incredibly stupid, like killing you before the King ever does. Is that a good enough reminder?"

Caladin's mouth formed a thin line, the words dawning on him rather quickly. There was a moment of very awkward silence before he nodded quickly. "Yep, reminded. No need for extreme measures."

Xarian sighed, stopping right in front of Caladin. "Thank you." These two words were forced behind a smile, quietly coming through his exasperation, but the intention was - mostly - the same as always.

Trick or treat!

Treat! 🎃

This is a flashback snippet from Tales of Wilted Flowers, taking place a few years in the past when Ahren and Faellyn were still traveling the kingdoms (after the destruction of their homeland). At this time, they're just kids who dream of becoming heroes. It's a more angsty/sad (with a hopeful ending) snippet, which I think fits the Halloween theme quite well! I hope you enjoy ;)

"They'll write stories about me one day." Ahren declared, voice waveringly sure. He wanted to believe it. "...And, um, about you... too, I suppose."

He quickly added, realizing his slip-up, throwing a small pebble up in the air, watching it sink into the nothingness below, inches away from where he lay on the edge of the ruins of what he believed was an abandoned temple. On the crumpled staircase to his left, Faellyn giggled at the rushed, absentminded addition.

"You laugh, but I would be perfect. Steadfast, brave, cunning. The whole deal. Like the Old Rulers! Bards will sing songs of the day I slice my sword through the neck of the Betrayer King, just like he did to -... I'd be a hero. Yes, that's it - I'll be the hero. I should be. That'll show them." He continued, at first loudly, gesturing around like a true storyteller, however gradually losing steam, until the last words ended in a dejected whisper.

Faellyn leaned forward, thinking, her laughter faded. She fiddled with the strings of her bag, as Ahren's rant delved into unintelligible, bitter mutterings. At the same time, such foolhardy daydreams should've given her glee - to see her cousin dreaming of adventures, just like he used to be. But those final words had caught up to her, bleeding through the pretense of what could've been.

Nothing was much the same, anymore - not even them. Their dues had been stolen, much like her father's kingdom - which was now a forgotten pile of ash, lost to time and memory. Stolen, by King Tieran Kallasen. Much like Ahren's peace of mind, she suspected, if the muttering habit he had recently taken up was anything to go by.

She pouted, looking up. The sky was bleeding red and gold, the sun fading beneath the trees, just out of sight. They should've reached the city by now. Ahren claimed having learned from someone trustworthy, that an old friend of her mother awaited them in the next city. Faellyn dared to hope it was true - they'd had their fair share of traps and ambushes by now. She decided it had to be true.

As she watched the last rays of sunlight disappear from their makeshift camp, Faellyn turned to her distracted cousin, reckless determination filling her words as she stood up, strapping her bag to her back. "Yes, you're right." Faellyn paused, weighing her words. "We will be heroes - maybe not now, maybe not tomorrow. But we'll be. I'll make sure of it, one day."

She walked up to Ahren, who was still sitting on the edge of the ruins, but no longer muttering, and reached out a hand to him. Snapped from his musings, Ahren looked up.

"What do you think, now? To the city?" She asked, hopefully, as her cousin grasped her hand, standing up. Ahren nodded, and though he didn't look her in the eyes as he started walking, Faellyn swore she saw a shadow of a smile in his features.

"To the city."

I know I’m late to the party for this ask game, but in the spirit of Halloween, I simply couldn’t miss out! So…

Trick 👻 or Treat 🎃?

Treat! 🎃

Thank you for the ask, @elshells!!!

Have a snippet from my WIP, Enchanted Illusions! It's a funnier one (at least I hope)!

(This is the scene where Evangeline, daughter of one of the most powerful sorcerers in their city, meets her soon to be vest friend - when Ambrose clumsily tries to steal a priceless artifact from her mansion)

"Who are you?"

The young man jumped at her unexpected question, almost falling to the ground. While he managed to regain his footing, all his tools around him fell to the floor with a loud clatter. He cringed.

"Uh, I - um" He [Ambrose] frantically looked around, as if wanting to rewind time to the moment before he'd screwed up. He continued quickly, stumbling over the words to fill the awkward silence. " - can we just pretend you never saw me and that this never happened?"

Evangeline narrowed her eyes, taking a step closer, while still clumsily brandishing the fire poker with both hands. "Nope."

There was a moment of uncomfortable silence, both teens awkwardly staring at each other - admittedly with difficulty, as the only light source was the moonlit creeping in from the window left ajar.

"Fine." Ambrose broke the silence, holding both hands up, placatingly and stepping away from the pedestal beside him "What do you suppose we do now?"

She tilted her head. "You could start by explaining to me what you're doing in my house. In the middle of the night, inside my father's room of spells."

Ambrose smirked, with a little flourish of his hands. "Ambrose Prosper. Part-time antiquarian, aspiring adventurer. A pleasure to meet you again - we've met before, I'm the apprentice at that clock repair shop..."

Evangeline stared at Ambrose for a long moment, before recognizing him. She recalled the awfully clumsy clerk running around the shop, almost toppling a stack of priceless machinery. "I knew you looked familiar."

He continued. "As for adressing the uh... dragon in the room..."

Ambrose paused, considering how to say the words he was about to speak, before blurting it all out in one breath. "I've been hired to steal the artifact currently standing on the pedestal right behind me. Hired by a.... very intimidating sorcerer, if that makes it any better..."

"Oh, okay. Of course. So you're a thief now. A magicless human one. And not very good at it either, given our current... stalemate. About as threatening to me here as a fruit fly."

Ambrose smiled, awkwardly nodding. "Yep, pretty much."

She sighed. "If this is what you want to do for a living, how have you even survived this long? "

"I have literally no idea. Luck?"

[...]

Trick or treat!

Thanks for the tag!

Trick and treat! 🎃

You can share something of your own, and choose/let me know in the post what you want me to share from my WIPs (which I'll then post in the next reblog)!

Happy Halloween!