The Iconar Collective (OUTDATED)

[Channelknight Fadran]

I know you know I have unreleased chapters. That doesn't mean you get to have them.

[Channelknight Fadran]

Alright! I am now redrafting all of this! Pretty much all of Act I is going to change, and an awful lot of the chapters after that are going to have to undergo some serious editing. Chapter I (mark two) is on its way, so... d'you think that I should release it?

[Experience]

3 hours ago, Channelknight Fadran said:

Alright! I am now redrafting all of this! Pretty much all of Act I is going to change, and an awful lot of the chapters after that are going to have to undergo some serious editing. Chapter I (mark two) is on its way, so... d'you think that I should release it?

As in let us read it?

Do you even need to ask?

[Channelknight Fadran]

Right, sorry. Forgot y'all hated it.

jk aight I'll post it

[Experience]

famous last words

[Flaming Coinshot]

Yes do

[Channelknight Fadran]

Well PERFECT TIMING

BECAUSE I HAVE ONE WHOLE CHAPTER WRITTEN.

Spoiler

Corrin - I
First Earthlight | Camp Ember

    The Earthmoon was still casting the horizon into shades of orange and red when Corrin arrived at Camp Ember. Flags hung limp at the parapets, manned by the spear-wielding guards waiting for their shift to end at the walls. He’d seen the place once as a child, but back then it had seemed so much more grand: a sprawling sea of tents and towers, surrounded by a wall so massive that it crested over the tops of most trees. It had been enough to make him want to be a soldier.
    Now that he was here, though, it looked a lot gritter, a lot harder, much more rough. It had probably become larger and cleaner since he’d last seen it as a child, but back then he hadn’t seen what war looked like up close.
    This place wasn’t even in the Broken Fields and it was already looking like it was falling to ruin.
    He was placed in a nondescript field full of prospective soldiers like himself, each waiting for their assignment to one squadron or another. A mess of emotions crossed all of their faces: trepidation, fear, pride. Corrin could vaguely separate the ones who would make it and the ones who wouldn’t. The ones who saw war as a game or had already accepted their own death would be the first to go; hopefully, though, the ones like himself would make it through.
    A few tables were placed around the clearing, manned by ‘officers’: more of glorified secretaries than anything, as far as he could tell. They were calling in the men to ask a few questions and give them their assignments, as well as looking very tired as they did it.
    After waiting for a few minutes, an officer called, “d’Regai, Corrin!”
    He stood and walked over to their table, sitting down on an old tree stump that it had been placed near. The officer skimmed over a sheet of paper before speaking, holding up a finger for Corrin to wait.
    “So you’re from Draycott, eh?” The officer said, not looking up. “Parents both deceased… your father was in the Enclave?”
    “Yes.” Corrin nodded. “But I never knew him.”
    “How old are you?” He continued. “Nineteen, twenty…?”
    “Um… nineteen, yeah.”
    “Any abilities to aid and abet the Enclave?” The officer was reading right off the enlistment form, it seemed.
    “I’ve studied field tactics and strategies, and I’m well-practiced in swordsmanship.”
    “Good, good… one more question.” The officer looked up. “Why do you want to join the Enclave?”
    Corrin let out a breath. “Uh… I guess it just seemed like the right thing to do.”
    Nodding, the officer checked a couple boxes, folded the form down the middle, and handed it to Corrin. “Great. This is your enlistment form: it’ll serve as your rank insignia until you get your actual one made. With it you can take standard-issue supplies, enter any registered Enclave camp, and apply for familial benefits if you need to. You’re also obligated to attend training, battles, and the like so long as your health allows. You got that?”
    “Yep.”
    “Alright.” The officer checked a sheet. “Now for your assignment… give me a number between one and twelve, if you don’t mind.”
    “Oh. Actually.” Corrin held up a hand. “I have a friend who said his squad should be here. Would it be possible to join them?”
    “I sure don’t have any reason to stop you. What’s the name of your friend?”
    “Garnell c’Arthur.”
    The officer ran his finger down the page, stopping somewhere near the bottom. “There you are. Find enlistment tent seven; his should be one of the ones in there.”
    “Thanks.”
    Corrin stood, backing away from the table and taking a quick glance around. His gaze eventually settled on a line of tents with flaps wide open and lines inside and out; he singled out the tent with seven dashes embroidered onto the side, walking over and getting in line.
    A small—but very noticeable—wave of anxiety washed over him. Maybe not hard anxiousness, but a weak nervousness that seemed to weaken his stance just a little. It was the kind of feeling he found himself faced with whenever something seemed too close to be real. Maybe that made sense; after so many years of training and study, it was a little strange, actually being here.
    His spot in the line moved into the tent, where the air became a lot muskier and heat weaved on deeper, seeming to broil them him the inside. The amount of sweat on each man’s brow seemed an indication to how long they’d been inside the tent. Once they’d been assigned to a squadron—there were five or six in the tent, each accruing a wealth of soldiers from the hundred or so men the officers were sifting through—the men would stay nearest to their captain, but against the edge of the tent, away from the squadron.
    “Alright, you’re headed to—”
    Corrin stopped him. “Um, excuse me, but… I was hoping to be placed in a squadron with Garnell c’Arthur?”
    The officer sighed, then flipped through a series of paper to a page of what looked like rough, handwritten notes. “Right. You’re Corrin. In that case, you’re with Dain.” He thumbed over his shoulder to one of the squadrons. “But you’ll be referring to him as Captain.”
    “Right. Thank you.”
    Corrin ducked away and weaved through the crowds, wiping a bit of moisture off his brow. The one called Captain Dain stood at the opposite end of the tent, sitting on a stool and watching the ground contemplatively. His newest soldiers were scattered across the floor, each alone in placement and in thought.
    The captain didn’t look up when Corrin approached. Frowning, Corrin cleared his throat; when that didn’t work, he saluted and said, “Sir! Uhm… hello.”
    At this the captain finally looked up, allowing Corrin to take in some of his features: tall, muscular, faded blue eyes, and an even set of dark hair streaked with gray. There was no start to his movement; everything looked smooth, methodical, and somewhat uncanny.
    He nodded. “Soldier. Take a seat.”
    “I’m… actually looking for someone.”
    After a moment, the captain replied, “You’re Garnell’s kid?”
    “His friend, yes.” 
    “I thought you’d be shorter.” The captain let out a short sigh, then thumbed over his shoulder. “Last I checked, they were at the smithy; what for, I don’t know. If they aren’t there, they’re getting a drink.”
    Corrin hesitated. “So…”
    “You’re dismissed, if you want to go find him.”
    He saluted. “Thanks—you, sir.”
    The captain didn’t say anything more, so Corrin ducked out of the tent. The cooler air of the outdoors washed over him so that he couldn’t help but let out a relieved sigh, but from after then he started asking around for directions to the smithy.
    It was near the camp center, by a large commons field and a kitchen. The smithy itself was a building, unlike most of the rest of the camp. Soldiers and strikers alike were crowded around the outer counter, idly chatting as the smiths hammered away at their equipment. Smoke rose from a series of chimneys, occasionally accented with a shower of sparks.
    Corrin scanned the crowd, searching for some particular features: and a small grin poked up at the edge of his mouth when he spotted them. Of all the soldiers here, only one of them was nearly seven feet tall and covered in such bulging muscles that not even the loosest clothes could hide them.
    He strode over next to the soldier, keeping his head low and pulling out his enlistment form. It was nigh impossible to keep a straight face as he slunk up beside Garnell, pressing the paper onto the counter and waiting for an assistant to reach him.
    “...Should be coming any day now, I’m telling ya…”
    Huh. He was talking about him? Corrin couldn’t keep the smile off his face now.
    “Prolly about yea high…” Garnell held his hand above Corrin’s head by a few inches.
    Corrin cleared his throat. “I think you’re overestimating, man. Not even I’m that tall.”
    Glancing down sharply, his voice caught for just a moment. “Gods, what? Corrin?”
    “Hey, man!” Corrin replied, holding up a hand. He stopped trying to wipe off his awkward grin. “It’s been awhile!”
    Garnell grabbed his hand in a familiar greeting. “Cor—hey, um. What?”
    One of the other soldiers Garnell had been talking to—a bit on the shorter side, dotted with small scars, and in a full striker’s uniform—tapped him on the shoulder. “Is this… him?”
    “Ah… yes, apparently.”
    Corrin waved weakly. “Hello.”
    Another soldier scoffed. “Doesn’t look like much.”
    “Iolar, you don’t look like much.” Garnell countered. “Gods, you don’t look like anything, ‘cept maybe your brother.”
    On the soldier called Iolar’s right, a near identical man held up both hands defensively. “I will not be associated with this man.”
    “These two are Iolar and Quarden,” Garnell said to Corrin. “Twins. Spearboys.”
    Iolar scoffed again. “Spearmen.”
    “Spearman.” Quarden corrected. “Iolar here’s just a spear.”
    They certainly looked like one; tall and thin, with angular features. They looked to be at slightly different heights, but Corrin attributed that to Iolar’s slight slouch; otherwise, the two were imperceptibly similar.
    “And this one is Mareth.” Garnell continued, thumbing at the striker who’d spoken to Corrin first. “Slightly more responsible than these two put together, but that isn’t saying much.”
    Corrin accepted a rigid handshake from the striker, nodding at him. “Nice meeting you all.”
    “Anyways, this is the striker gang… or something like that.” Garnell said. “Which means that if you’re in our squad that I get to boss you around!”
    Iolar put a hand to his chin. “I hadn’t thought about that. Nevermind, kid; you’re looking plenty fine.”
    “Fine? For what?”
    He leaned in and said at a whisper, “An accessory to no small amount of mischief. I’ve always wanted an accomplice!”
    Corrin frowned. “Isn’t the Enclave all… uptight and whatnot? Not to mention your captain; well, our captain, I guess.”
    “So you’re in our squad?” Garnell asked hopefully.
    “Sure am.”
    “Great!” He pumped his fist. “And to answer your question: yes and no. When we aren’t training or killing demons or doing chores or whatever, then Dain’s plenty fine with us letting off a little rowdiness. The camps’re rough and tough enough that they’re okay with letting some steam out the edges of the pot so we don’t explode, if you know what I mean.”
    “Huh.” Corrin took that in. “Okay.”
    “What, did you think that you’d just consigned yourself to be stoically following orders for another six years?” Mareth asked. “Not even the Enclave is that proper.”
    “So… accomplice? Mischief?” Iolar was still whispering.
    Quarden pulled Iolar away. “Please excuse this sorry mess of a soldier who had the audacity to follow me into this world.”
    Garnell then pushed Qurden away. “Please excuse this sorry mess of a squadron who had the audacity to not get themselves killed yet and rope you into a number of years of service where I imagine they’ll continue not dying.”
    “Sorry to disappoint.” Iolar said.
    “We’ll try harder next time.” Quarden added.
    Corrin glanced at the four of them. “So… apart from the soldiers, this is it?”
    “We’ve got one more striker, actually.” Garnell replied. “Isn’t much of a people person, though, so he’ll be hanging back at the barracks; reading or summat. Uia’s probably more reasonable than the rest of us combined. He’s mage striker; runs all the drills for you magic types. You went to the Academy while I was away, right? So you’re probably going into that?”
    He chuckled in response. “Nope. Flunked out after a month.”
    “Oh.” Garnell blinked. “Well, ah… what’ll you be doing, then?”
    One of the apprentice blacksmiths strode up to Corrin. “Sorry about the wait. What can I get for the new soldier here?”
    Corrin held up a finger at the squad and turned to the apprentice. “I’m assuming you guys carry arming swords?”
    “Plenty.”
    “Can I get one about this long?” He held his hands out about an arm’s length from each other.
    “‘Course. Be back with you in a moment.” With that the apprentice stepped away.
    Garnell raised an eyebrow. “You think you’ve swung around Uncle Lars’s old blade enough to get yourself one of your own, huh?”
    “Better than a pointy stick, I’d say.”
    Mareth nodded. “Then that means you will be taking drills under me, so get used to sore muscles and sweat. Unlike the twins, I’m not one to let you off just because something’s in pain.”
    “Hey!” Quarden protested. “You never know when you might pull a muscle or… something like that!”
    “‘Healthy soldiers fight longer battles.’” Iolar quoted, even though he hadn’t struck Corrin as the type to read military manuals.
    “Training hard is fine by me.” Corrin reassured Mareth. He reached over to take the hilt of a blade proffered to him by an approaching apprentice, pulling it from a cloth and hoisting it into the air, feeling how well it balanced. “I signed up for it, after all.”
    “Does that work well for you?” The apprentice asked.
    Corrin gripped the hilt and pommel with both hands. “Perfect. Thank you.”
    “Just sign here, if you’d please… confirm your ownership and whatnot.”
    He did, writing his name at the bottom of a slip of paper, which the apprentice took and dropped into a box full of similar papers; to charge the Enclave in full for the purchases later, Corrin guessed. His attention wasn’t there, of course. He couldn’t take his eyes off the new sword; still new and shiny enough to see his reflection in. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Corrin couldn’t help but think about how this would be the tool of his livelihood for more years than seemed possible right now.
    He’d resigned himself to this blade; he’d resigned himself to this squadron. He’d resigned himself to this life.
    “So when do we start?” Corrin asked.

 

[Channelknight Fadran]

Oh hey want another one?

Spoiler

Aurora - II
Third Earthlight | Midway

    Her shadow cast far across the floor, vibrant and backlit by the swirling white Parallarity gate. Passing between Feylore and Ivinan had been deceptively senseless; it had seemed like all the light should’ve felt like something. She’d just walked through open air, from one side of the gate to the other in a fraction of a second.
    The warden waved for her to move along, waving his hand nonchalantly. Aurora gripped her suitcase with both hands and nodded, stepping away from the portal. A swarm of people crowded into where she’d stood just a second ago, pushing into the gate and into Feylore. They were mostly humans; merchants or refugees, most likely, moving into the only neutral realm left in the Iconar Collective.
    And then there was Aurora, instead actively running towards the realm currently fighting a war.
    “Come on, Amy!” Lacy shouted, bouncing on her toes impatiently. “If we miss our carriage it’s all your fault!”
    “We have until Airlight…” Aurora muttered, but moved along anyways.
    Crowds of humans, fey, fleeker, drake, and necromid alike filled the building: a long, tall wood-and-marble hall filled to the brim with pillars and benches. A general buzzing hum of noise echoed from wall to wall, like a river: nonstop sounds of rush and voice. Aurora couldn’t pick anyone or anything out from the crowd; instead she kept her eyes on Lacy, following the shiny blonde hair amidst a crowd of darkness.
    Then they found the exit, and pushed out into the Earthsun’s light.
    In the distance, unharvested forest still grew out, leaves bright, green, and full. Down the mountain just before the two of them, the gates of the city spanned out for a ways, lined by a wall mostly decayed and broken. Buildings—shops, houses, churches—sprawled out for miles along the slopes, with cobbled streets weaving along the mountainside. The sheer vastness of it all was enough for Aurora to catch her breath.
    Lacy grunted. “It looks too much like Feylore.”
    “It’s almost like it was made by elves, Lace.” Aurora replied. She took in a deep breath; the air was thinner here.
    “Be quiet.” She muttered, then put her hand out at arm’s length and stuck her fingers between the Earthsun and the horizon. “Looks like we’ve got a little under two hours to get all the way down there. How much you wanna bet that those streets are harder to navigate than they look?”
    Aurora shifted up her grip on her suitcase, slinging it backwards over her shoulder. “I guess we should get going, then.”
    “What about lunch?”
    She looked around at the nearby buildings. They were all built out of polished stone and well-crafted woods, with tiled roofs and metal adornments. The houses up here were multi-storied, with iron gates and fences and ornate gardens. The streets were clean, the air was clear, and there was enough space for each property that Aurora imagined one could fit two houses in each.
    “This is the rich side of town.” She replied. “Even if we could afford anything here, I doubt we could stomach it.”
    Lacy huffed. “Fine. We’ll go downstairs and eat with all the poor people.”
    With that, the two of them set off.
    They weren’t the only ones on the streets. Enough people drifted in and out of Feylore during each Parallarity passing that the roads were also pretty packed despite how long across they were. Aurora and Lacy stuck to the edges, nearest a row of expensive-looking houses. Occasionally they’d spot someone watching the crowds from out the window; pity or disgust from the adults, general wonder from the children. In any case, it didn’t seem like anybody exactly appreciated the sudden hordes.
    “Where do you think everyone’s going?” Lacy asked.
    Looking around, Aurora picked out some kinds of people she recognized: families with their lives in a suitcase, children with a box for shining shoes or building matches, old men and women looking for nowhere less than someplace different to die. There were merchants and ambassadors, sure, but by and large the people here were just looking for a better life in one realm or another.
    In Feylore there had been peace and jobs for those willing to work with their hands. Aurora and Lacy had spent days in textile shops or kilns before for a few copper coins; it wasn’t easy or fun by any means, but it could pay to feed them for a night. Human and fleeker immigrants were given the status of Fourth Verar upon entry; drakes were given Fifth, and necromids Sixth. Having lived between each, Aurora couldn’t help but wonder what these people could possibly be running from to warrant such a squalid lifestyle.
    And then there was Ivinan; where she and Lacy were headed. The other children back in Feylore told stories (mostly fantasies) about a land where every family had a farm and gold to spare; of knights defending their castles with gleaming swords and armor against a relentless tide of demons.
    She thought about that as they weaved their way down into the poorer parts of town. To avoid the crowds, she and Lacy navigated the backstreets; with dejected men eating what they could find and orphans watching the passersby. Some of them asked for coins; the others knew better. Aurora could read their eyes for how much hope they had left—some too much, some not enough. They reminded her of the orphanages back home; filled with children waiting for a savior parent.
    Nobody in the lower rings could afford another child. Most would abandon the ones they had for that reason. It had taken her a long time to find a balance between constant disappointment and abject despair, but even then there wasn’t anything she could do for anyone else. Nothing she could do for the ones who dreamt of knights in shining armor; nothing she could do for the ones who’d stopped begging long ago.
    “Goodness, Amy. Lighten up.” Lacy said. “Stop staring out into the distance and watch where you’re going.”
    Aurora blinked. “Uhm… sorry.”
    She huffed. “You’re looking around like the world’s ended already. Fun fact: we’re still alive. And close to nothing is currently on fire.”
    “Yeah, yeah. I know.” Aurora looked around. They were in a tighter road, now; quieter, emptier, and a whole lot dirtier. “It’s just weird.”
    Lacy bumped her on the shoulder. “I gotcha. Like… we’ve done nothing, but now everything’s working out for us.”
    “It feels cheap.” Aurora concluded.
    She nodded, then after a moment of silence concluded, “Well let’s not worry about that right now! I’d say that it’d be arguably worse if we don’t make it to the Academy, so we’d probably better do that first and contemplate the implications of life later.”
    “Good plan.”
    Lacy cleared her throat. “And also let’s get some food because I’m starving.”
    Chuckling, Aurora poked her head out into the next intersection of streets. The crossing road was a little wider, with a number of people walking along it. The buildings here looked more like shops than houses; and a few had makeshift tables (barrels and boxes and the like) set out in front of them. “Looks like there are a few places here, if you want to sit down somewhere to eat.”
    “Restaurants are super expensive though.” Lacy replied. “Even if they are down here.”
     “We’re in Midway now! We might as well try something nice.”
    Lacy huffed. “Alright. But I’m not eating anything until they tell me how expensive it is.”
    “Wasn’t planning on it.” Aurora replied. She stepped up to the nearest cafe and found a discarded menu. “Look, they’ve got prices right here. Just three crescents per.”
    “D’you think they’ll dock that if we take whatever they made yesterday?”
    Aurora ignored that and pulled open the door, stepping into what appeared to be a glorified kitchen with a counter in the middle. There was barely any room to stand for ordering; it was a good thing that the shop was empty except for them and the chef, who had been dozing off on the counter before they came in.
    “S—welcome in, misses.” The chef said. He pulled himself up and wiped at his eyes with one long stroke. “What can I get ya?”
    “Just two smalls, if you’d please.”
    He glanced over his shoulder. “D’you want them hot or d’you want them fast?”
    “Fast.” Lacy decided before Aurora could say anything.
    With that the chef grunted, turned around, then picked a small basket off floor and set it on the counter. “Three crescents.”
    “But the menu said—”
    “Goodness, miss, I need to get these things outta my shop. If you wanna pay half a silver that bad then you can take four.’
    Aurora fished through her pocket and brought out five copper coins, each carved vaguely into the shape of a crescent moon. “Can we keep the basket if you take these?”
    The chef grunted. “Go ahead.”
    She dropped the coins on the counter, then picked up the basket. With that Lacy tipped her hat at him, Aurora gave a short ‘thank you,’ and the two of them left the shop.
    “What’s with the basket?” Lacy asked. “You don’t want to sit down?”
    Aurora glanced over at the ‘table.’ “I saw a bug crawl out of that thing. I’d rather not take my chances.”
    Each meal came with a fist-sized lump of barley roll, a few shelled nuts, and two fried onion slices. Overall it was a pretty tasteless meal, but she and Lacy had learned not to taste much of anything anymore.
    “These come from Ivinan, right?” Lacy asked, holding up one of the onion slices.
    Aurora shrugged, then replied, “You might want to get used to those.”
    They strode down the dirty streets carefully, only asking directions from the other children and older residents; and even then only when they absolutely had to. The streets still followed a weaving pattern down the hill, though they weren’t so evenly-spaced now as they had been up top the mountain. Every once in awhile a house would be missing from its spot, and the two could gather their bearings to determine just how far from the gates they were.
    After working their way down a few more roads, Aurora and Lacy found an intersection leading out to the city’s main street. It was thinner down here, but just as crowded with people of every race and age. The gates were a stone’s throw away from their back alley, stopped up and bottlenecked by each person flashing the guards a passport.
    Lacy checked the skies. “I’d say we saved ourselves an hour of standing in line.”
    “Let’s keep going, then,” Aurora replied, stepping out into the street.
    It was easy enough to push through the crowds with just the two of them, moving through the space between each family huddled together into a tight bubble of nervous familiarity. It seemed like every pack of people eyed the others like they expected to be jumped and robbed at any moment; not that it would be so unrealistic for that to happen, though. It was easier to escape the authorities in a crowd. Aurora and Lacy knew that from experience.
    As soon as they reached the gates, the two of them were sorted into one of three lines, where they had to wait for a few minutes while the border guards ahead searched everyone that passed. They took the girls’ suitcases when they approached, as well as the now-empty basket (albeit with some confusion). One sifted through the cases while the other compared the girls’ passports against a massive ledger.
    “You’re the Academy kids, huh?” The guard asked.
    Aurora nodded. “Yep.”
    He handed them their passports back. “Alright. You can pass. Head to the stables down the road and give these to the stablemaster. He’ll direct you to your ride from there.”
    “Thanks!”
    They took off at a bit of a jog once they’d been passed by the luggage check, heading towards a large building along the outside of the wall. A number of identical carriages lined it from the outside, two of which were currently being hooked up with a pair of horses each. As they approached, the smell of manure washed over them, causing Lacy to swear (quietly) and Aurora to pull the collar of her shirt over her nose.
    From there they found their way to the building’s entrance, glancing down into the rows and rows of individual stables. They singled out the stablemaster as the man behind a desk; he pointed them to a stable not far from the entrance. Their ride was here already, and waiting.
    Aurora turned around, staring out at the mountain they’d just descended.
    “That’s the last we’ll be seeing of it, huh?” Lacy asked.
    Gripping her suitcase, Aurora let out a breath. “I guess so.”
    “Not like we’re leaving much of anything behind.”
    “I know.” Aurora replied, nodding. A million thoughts crossed her mind at once, each dashing over each other and filling her mind with a blank fuzz. “It’s just weird.”
    “Well…” Hesitating, Lacy sighed. “Whatever, Amy. We should probably catch our ride.”
    “Yeah. Right.” She said. Aurora forced herself to turn around again. “Let’s go.”

 

[Frustration]

1 hour ago, Channelknight Fadran said:

Oh hey want another one?

  Reveal hidden contents

Aurora - II
Third Earthlight | Midway

    Her shadow cast far across the floor, vibrant and backlit by the swirling white Parallarity gate. Passing between Feylore and Ivinan had been deceptively senseless; it had seemed like all the light should’ve felt like something. She’d just walked through open air, from one side of the gate to the other in a fraction of a second.
    The warden waved for her to move along, waving his hand nonchalantly. Aurora gripped her suitcase with both hands and nodded, stepping away from the portal. A swarm of people crowded into where she’d stood just a second ago, pushing into the gate and into Feylore. They were mostly humans; merchants or refugees, most likely, moving into the only neutral realm left in the Iconar Collective.
    And then there was Aurora, instead actively running towards the realm currently fighting a war.
    “Come on, Amy!” Lacy shouted, bouncing on her toes impatiently. “If we miss our carriage it’s all your fault!”
    “We have until Airlight…” Aurora muttered, but moved along anyways.
    Crowds of humans, fey, fleeker, drake, and necromid alike filled the building: a long, tall wood-and-marble hall filled to the brim with pillars and benches. A general buzzing hum of noise echoed from wall to wall, like a river: nonstop sounds of rush and voice. Aurora couldn’t pick anyone or anything out from the crowd; instead she kept her eyes on Lacy, following the shiny blonde hair amidst a crowd of darkness.
    Then they found the exit, and pushed out into the Earthsun’s light.
    In the distance, unharvested forest still grew out, leaves bright, green, and full. Down the mountain just before the two of them, the gates of the city spanned out for a ways, lined by a wall mostly decayed and broken. Buildings—shops, houses, churches—sprawled out for miles along the slopes, with cobbled streets weaving along the mountainside. The sheer vastness of it all was enough for Aurora to catch her breath.
    Lacy grunted. “It looks too much like Feylore.”
    “It’s almost like it was made by elves, Lace.” Aurora replied. She took in a deep breath; the air was thinner here.
    “Be quiet.” She muttered, then put her hand out at arm’s length and stuck her fingers between the Earthsun and the horizon. “Looks like we’ve got a little under two hours to get all the way down there. How much you wanna bet that those streets are harder to navigate than they look?”
    Aurora shifted up her grip on her suitcase, slinging it backwards over her shoulder. “I guess we should get going, then.”
    “What about lunch?”
    She looked around at the nearby buildings. They were all built out of polished stone and well-crafted woods, with tiled roofs and metal adornments. The houses up here were multi-storied, with iron gates and fences and ornate gardens. The streets were clean, the air was clear, and there was enough space for each property that Aurora imagined one could fit two houses in each.
    “This is the rich side of town.” She replied. “Even if we could afford anything here, I doubt we could stomach it.”
    Lacy huffed. “Fine. We’ll go downstairs and eat with all the poor people.”
    With that, the two of them set off.
    They weren’t the only ones on the streets. Enough people drifted in and out of Feylore during each Parallarity passing that the roads were also pretty packed despite how long across they were. Aurora and Lacy stuck to the edges, nearest a row of expensive-looking houses. Occasionally they’d spot someone watching the crowds from out the window; pity or disgust from the adults, general wonder from the children. In any case, it didn’t seem like anybody exactly appreciated the sudden hordes.
    “Where do you think everyone’s going?” Lacy asked.
    Looking around, Aurora picked out some kinds of people she recognized: families with their lives in a suitcase, children with a box for shining shoes or building matches, old men and women looking for nowhere less than someplace different to die. There were merchants and ambassadors, sure, but by and large the people here were just looking for a better life in one realm or another.
    In Feylore there had been peace and jobs for those willing to work with their hands. Aurora and Lacy had spent days in textile shops or kilns before for a few copper coins; it wasn’t easy or fun by any means, but it could pay to feed them for a night. Human and fleeker immigrants were given the status of Fourth Verar upon entry; drakes were given Fifth, and necromids Sixth. Having lived between each, Aurora couldn’t help but wonder what these people could possibly be running from to warrant such a squalid lifestyle.
    And then there was Ivinan; where she and Lacy were headed. The other children back in Feylore told stories (mostly fantasies) about a land where every family had a farm and gold to spare; of knights defending their castles with gleaming swords and armor against a relentless tide of demons.
    She thought about that as they weaved their way down into the poorer parts of town. To avoid the crowds, she and Lacy navigated the backstreets; with dejected men eating what they could find and orphans watching the passersby. Some of them asked for coins; the others knew better. Aurora could read their eyes for how much hope they had left—some too much, some not enough. They reminded her of the orphanages back home; filled with children waiting for a savior parent.
    Nobody in the lower rings could afford another child. Most would abandon the ones they had for that reason. It had taken her a long time to find a balance between constant disappointment and abject despair, but even then there wasn’t anything she could do for anyone else. Nothing she could do for the ones who dreamt of knights in shining armor; nothing she could do for the ones who’d stopped begging long ago.
    “Goodness, Amy. Lighten up.” Lacy said. “Stop staring out into the distance and watch where you’re going.”
    Aurora blinked. “Uhm… sorry.”
    She huffed. “You’re looking around like the world’s ended already. Fun fact: we’re still alive. And close to nothing is currently on fire.”
    “Yeah, yeah. I know.” Aurora looked around. They were in a tighter road, now; quieter, emptier, and a whole lot dirtier. “It’s just weird.”
    Lacy bumped her on the shoulder. “I gotcha. Like… we’ve done nothing, but now everything’s working out for us.”
    “It feels cheap.” Aurora concluded.
    She nodded, then after a moment of silence concluded, “Well let’s not worry about that right now! I’d say that it’d be arguably worse if we don’t make it to the Academy, so we’d probably better do that first and contemplate the implications of life later.”
    “Good plan.”
    Lacy cleared her throat. “And also let’s get some food because I’m starving.”
    Chuckling, Aurora poked her head out into the next intersection of streets. The crossing road was a little wider, with a number of people walking along it. The buildings here looked more like shops than houses; and a few had makeshift tables (barrels and boxes and the like) set out in front of them. “Looks like there are a few places here, if you want to sit down somewhere to eat.”
    “Restaurants are super expensive though.” Lacy replied. “Even if they are down here.”
     “We’re in Midway now! We might as well try something nice.”
    Lacy huffed. “Alright. But I’m not eating anything until they tell me how expensive it is.”
    “Wasn’t planning on it.” Aurora replied. She stepped up to the nearest cafe and found a discarded menu. “Look, they’ve got prices right here. Just three crescents per.”
    “D’you think they’ll dock that if we take whatever they made yesterday?”
    Aurora ignored that and pulled open the door, stepping into what appeared to be a glorified kitchen with a counter in the middle. There was barely any room to stand for ordering; it was a good thing that the shop was empty except for them and the chef, who had been dozing off on the counter before they came in.
    “S—welcome in, misses.” The chef said. He pulled himself up and wiped at his eyes with one long stroke. “What can I get ya?”
    “Just two smalls, if you’d please.”
    He glanced over his shoulder. “D’you want them hot or d’you want them fast?”
    “Fast.” Lacy decided before Aurora could say anything.
    With that the chef grunted, turned around, then picked a small basket off floor and set it on the counter. “Three crescents.”
    “But the menu said—”
    “Goodness, miss, I need to get these things outta my shop. If you wanna pay half a silver that bad then you can take four.’
    Aurora fished through her pocket and brought out five copper coins, each carved vaguely into the shape of a crescent moon. “Can we keep the basket if you take these?”
    The chef grunted. “Go ahead.”
    She dropped the coins on the counter, then picked up the basket. With that Lacy tipped her hat at him, Aurora gave a short ‘thank you,’ and the two of them left the shop.
    “What’s with the basket?” Lacy asked. “You don’t want to sit down?”
    Aurora glanced over at the ‘table.’ “I saw a bug crawl out of that thing. I’d rather not take my chances.”
    Each meal came with a fist-sized lump of barley roll, a few shelled nuts, and two fried onion slices. Overall it was a pretty tasteless meal, but she and Lacy had learned not to taste much of anything anymore.
    “These come from Ivinan, right?” Lacy asked, holding up one of the onion slices.
    Aurora shrugged, then replied, “You might want to get used to those.”
    They strode down the dirty streets carefully, only asking directions from the other children and older residents; and even then only when they absolutely had to. The streets still followed a weaving pattern down the hill, though they weren’t so evenly-spaced now as they had been up top the mountain. Every once in awhile a house would be missing from its spot, and the two could gather their bearings to determine just how far from the gates they were.
    After working their way down a few more roads, Aurora and Lacy found an intersection leading out to the city’s main street. It was thinner down here, but just as crowded with people of every race and age. The gates were a stone’s throw away from their back alley, stopped up and bottlenecked by each person flashing the guards a passport.
    Lacy checked the skies. “I’d say we saved ourselves an hour of standing in line.”
    “Let’s keep going, then,” Aurora replied, stepping out into the street.
    It was easy enough to push through the crowds with just the two of them, moving through the space between each family huddled together into a tight bubble of nervous familiarity. It seemed like every pack of people eyed the others like they expected to be jumped and robbed at any moment; not that it would be so unrealistic for that to happen, though. It was easier to escape the authorities in a crowd. Aurora and Lacy knew that from experience.
    As soon as they reached the gates, the two of them were sorted into one of three lines, where they had to wait for a few minutes while the border guards ahead searched everyone that passed. They took the girls’ suitcases when they approached, as well as the now-empty basket (albeit with some confusion). One sifted through the cases while the other compared the girls’ passports against a massive ledger.
    “You’re the Academy kids, huh?” The guard asked.
    Aurora nodded. “Yep.”
    He handed them their passports back. “Alright. You can pass. Head to the stables down the road and give these to the stablemaster. He’ll direct you to your ride from there.”
    “Thanks!”
    They took off at a bit of a jog once they’d been passed by the luggage check, heading towards a large building along the outside of the wall. A number of identical carriages lined it from the outside, two of which were currently being hooked up with a pair of horses each. As they approached, the smell of manure washed over them, causing Lacy to swear (quietly) and Aurora to pull the collar of her shirt over her nose.
    From there they found their way to the building’s entrance, glancing down into the rows and rows of individual stables. They singled out the stablemaster as the man behind a desk; he pointed them to a stable not far from the entrance. Their ride was here already, and waiting.
    Aurora turned around, staring out at the mountain they’d just descended.
    “That’s the last we’ll be seeing of it, huh?” Lacy asked.
    Gripping her suitcase, Aurora let out a breath. “I guess so.”
    “Not like we’re leaving much of anything behind.”
    “I know.” Aurora replied, nodding. A million thoughts crossed her mind at once, each dashing over each other and filling her mind with a blank fuzz. “It’s just weird.”
    “Well…” Hesitating, Lacy sighed. “Whatever, Amy. We should probably catch our ride.”
    “Yeah. Right.” She said. Aurora forced herself to turn around again. “Let’s go.”

 

Fadran I need to do NaNoWrMo

Ok I'll read it.

Edited November 2, 2021 by Frustration

[Experience]

:(.

No time to read

[Channelknight Fadran]

H e l p

I'm working on revising the weapon forms because Speed and Evasion as well as Power and Strength are way too similar, but I can't find any suitable replacements.

Thus far I'm considering replacing either speed or evasion with "Precision," so if anyone has a decent replacement for Power (maybe something similar to Will), that'd be great.

[The Unknown Ajah]

Tenacity, meaning not giving ground, or as you said, will.

[Frustration]

18 minutes ago, Channelknight Fadran said:

H e l p

I'm working on revising the weapon forms because Speed and Evasion as well as Power and Strength are way too similar, but I can't find any suitable replacements.

Thus far I'm considering replacing either speed or evasion with "Precision," so if anyone has a decent replacement for Power (maybe something similar to Will), that'd be great.

1. Speed, movemnet of the body
2. Quickness, movement of the blade
3. Power, force of the blade
4. Strength, force of the body.

Strength would be more about blocking or how much force is required to move you, or break your guard.

So you have two offensive

Quickness and Power

And two deffencive

Speed and Strength

[Channelknight Fadran]

This

Writer's

Block

S u c k s

[Frustration]

12 minutes ago, Channelknight Fadran said:

This

Writer's

Block

S u c k s

I have a sloution.

1. Change into shorts and althetic shoes
2. Run for at least 3 miles
3. Shower.

Can't say it will work, but it helps me.

Edited November 19, 2021 by Frustration

[The Unknown Ajah]

I recommend... writing random words for hours with no basis whatsoever. Can't writer's block nonsense. 

[Voidspawn]

On 10/26/2021 at 0:02 PM, Channelknight Fadran said:

Pet Peeves in Writing (by Fadran):

- Only chapter numbers: Where the scud are all the chapter titles? How am I supposed to talk about my favorite chapter in a book if it's just a number? Do you have any clue how lazy it is just dropping a number, or a roman numeral if you're trying to be fancy? Just name your dang chapters!

 

On 7/10/2020 at 4:51 PM, Channelknight Fadran said:

Soldiers and Orphans:

Chapter II

Chapter III

Chapter IV

Chapter V

Chapter VI

Chapter VII

Chapter VIII

Chapter IX

Chapter X:

Chapter XI:

Chapter XII:

Chapter XIII

Chapter XIV:

Chapter XV:

The Noble and Nobles:

Chapter XVI:

Chapter XVII:

...

I know that Iconar was over a year before RitingWrite, but still...

I was opening up Iconar so I could keep reading it but then I noticed that and it kept bugging me to send this. So... yeah.

[Channelknight Fadran]

Hey, I named my chapters!

...Right?

[DramaQueen]

Yeah, if you open the spoilers the names are there.

There just aren't names outside of the spoilers, there's only roman numerals.

[Channelknight Fadran]

Some updates! Y'know... finally.

• You guys might be aware of my new commitment to redo the worldbuilding. Basically, I was so focused on making things realistic that I forgot to make them awesome and fantastical, so I'm going through and refreshing pretty much everything.
  • The magic systems of the six realms are getting a makeover. They made sense by themselves, but not really as a collective whole. I've already redrafted them, and I like where they're going, so hopefully I've found the sweet spot.
  • I'm changing up the races of each realm because they were... kinda dumb. Haven't quite finished that up yet, but here's a lil' sneak peek of what it'll have:
    • Something better than humans for Ivinan ('cause humans are overdone)
    • I'm reducing the Fey of Feylore from a massive racist hiearchy to a slightly smaller racist hiearchy
    • The Viterans are now nature-y guys who take on the forms of various natural thingses (tree bark, mountain stone, etc)
    • Drakes are now stubby dragonling dwarfmen instead of dragonlings plus dwarfmens
    • Demons are.......... completely unchanged. They're perfect and will never be rewritten
    • I've taken the old Viteran creatures (they were called Fleekers and were basically brightly-colored humanoids) and repurposed them for Carnon because.... reasons (I have them I swear)
  • All this ^ ^ ^ stemmed from changing up the realms, which means that now I have to change up the gods as well. I haven't quite gotten started on that, but you'd best believe it'll happen.
  • I'm also gonna start adding the awesome thingses. Iconar as you know it has normal castles, normal cities, normal people, and normal magic... which means that Iconar as it'll be is gonna have massive castles, epic cities, amazing people, and awesome magic! I haven't started working on this, but it's gonna be way cooler.
• My worldbuilding may have been boring, but that's got nothin' on the storyline. It was a trilogy (overdone) about a group of chosen ones (overdone) trying to bring down [redacted.big.bad] (overdone). It was basically like "what if Stormlight but different."
  • The characters will probably stay the same... mostly. Given my new specieses (species's? speciesssss?), I'll see about changing up their appearances and such, but their arcs will all remain pretty similar. Frankly, at this point, my biggest character design flaw is that their visual design just isn't cool enough, so I'll see what I can do to fix that.
  • I'm yeeting the trilogy idea out the window. Begone! The whole point of this series is to be an epic, sprawling world, with massive battles and gods and this and that. I'm not going to pull a Robert Jordan on y'all, but I'm not going to limit my most in-depth work of worldbuilding to just three books. Hopefully it'll be shorter than the likes of Stormlight, but certainly longer than Mistborn.
  • The prose itself is hopefully gonna be better (not hopefully; definitely. My old prose is bad), and I'm going to start modeling the sequences after my new favorite medium: ANIME. There'll be intrigue like Fullmetal, fight scenes like Demon Slayer, everything like Attack on Titan (haven't finished it yet but I am LOVIN it), and... maybe a power dynamic like in Hunter x Hunter ().
• Oh yeah also I'm gonna make art for it. After watching Daniel Greene's video about making decent cover art, I've decided that I totally want a solid manga-style art for it.

Spoiler

Here's some love if you actually read through that all and made it to the end:

 

[Frustration]

1 hour ago, Channelknight Fadran said:

 

  Reveal hidden contents

Here's some love if you actually read through that all and made it to the end:

 

Why thank you. And I look forward to seeing where this goes.

1 hour ago, Channelknight Fadran said:

The characters will probably stay the same... mostly. Given my new specieses (species's? speciesssss?),

It's just species, it sounds wrong but it's already plural.

[Experience]

[Channelknight Fadran]

Also I do need ideas for my replacement humans. I was thinking of strong skin tones with natural tattoo designs…?

[Frustration]

2 minutes ago, Channelknight Fadran said:

Also I do need ideas for my replacement humans. I was thinking of strong skin tones with natural tattoo designs…?

So what body plan are you looking for?

[Channelknight Fadran]

Still generally humanoid, as are all the other races