22 April 2024

And here are the next three; the dad and the two oldest siblings of the lot. I quite like the idea of all the different facets of the Storm King, too.

Karthos, Father Death

Also know as the Grim Father, the Judge in Darkness, Lord of the Grave, and He Who Reaps, Karthos is generally depicted within human nations as an old, tired man in a billowing black cloak with a long beard, wielding a scythe with skeletal hands.

He rules over death and its role in the circle of life; he also guides souls to their resting places after death. His clerics generally follow the Blood, Death, and Grave domains, though it is not unheard of for them to ascribe to the Life, Nature, and Order domains. He bears a strong hatred for those who proactively try to “cheat” death, especially as most known methods to do so require harming those around them, but unbeknownst to many, he bears no ill will who unwillingly stumbled into undeath.

Known Heralds:

1) Some kind of skeletal knight

2) His steed, the Nightmare

3) 

Essayna, the Radiant Queen

Also known as the Burning Child, General Inferno, and She Who Smiths, Essayna is the goddess of the flame and the sun. She is often portrayed as a glowing, armored woman with flaming yellow hair, astride a warhorse, though depictions of her in a leather apron at a forge are also relatively common.

Through her rule over fire, she came to represent civilization as a whole, and has a strong association with law and order. As such, she is regarded as the patron goddess of the Skybreaker order, and her worship is especially strong in Solstrana; her ties to the forge also lead to a high concentration of worship amis=dst the Dwarf Holds in the mountains.

Clerics of the Radiant Queen typically ascribe to the domains of Order, Light, or the Forge, though Knowledge and Peace are not unheard of. A very few ascribe to the Twilight domain, but such are often considered borderline heretical by the rest of the clergy.

Known Heralds:

1) Sekhmet (Fell into bloodlust during the Kadrashan War 300 years ago; currently sealed)

2) Her war horse, a stallion; either mate or son to Death’s Nightmare

3) Dwarven god of the forge

4) 

Zatir, the Storm King

Also known as the Raging Tempest, Brother Fortune, and He Who Trades, Zatir is the chaos to his older sister’s order. Perhaps because of that, his characterization fluctuates the most greatly depending on where and how he is worshiped. Among the barbarian tribes of the Unclaimed Lands to the north, be they human, orc, or goliath, he is hailed as a great blue-skinned warrior wielding the storms against his enemies. In the mercantile regions of Oileanda or Duladel, he is worshiped as a gallant seaman opening the path for merchant ships.

He rules over storms, wind, and rain. As a result, he also gradually became associated with the winds of fortune, and “storm bless us” has become a common phrase for invoking luck. His clerics tend to be associated with the domains of Tempest, Nature, and Twilight.

Known Heralds: 

1) His wife, a storm giantess [Lady luck? If not, a separate herald for that idea]

2) A rare, non-malevolent kraken of great power; Neptune as a name?

3) Grizzly bear of some kind. Reference Elden Ring Rune bears

4) Famous pirate/merchant type with his ship; Davy Jones type idea?

5)

19 March 2024

Reyzha knew she was being a bit ridiculous. When you prayed to the Deep Gods, you asked for things like safety or good loot in the dungeon that was her town’s lifeblood. You didn’t ask for children; that was the domain of the Celestial Gods, particularly the Lifegiver.

But they hadn’t answered. So here she was, before another dungeon raid, asking for a child instead of something sensible like protection or good fortune.

So when she saw the basket resting on an altar, ten or so floors down, Reyzha assumed it was an offering left by a previous party. However, before she and her group could leave, they heard a baby crying within.

After exchanging a glance with her husband, a fellow adventurer, Reyzha dashed to the basket, and peered inside. Within lay a beautiful baby girl, and a note on silver paper. It read,

Reyzha,

Her Name is Seila. Take care of her.

-D

30 September 2022

This is probably where I started taking Elsenaia's story more seriously. All that backstory made me recognize her as a character more, or something? Anyway, still plenty comedic, but there's a lot more serious moments.

I also wanted to hurry up and get past the “reading each other's minds" bit, so I probably rushed to the end scene there. Also, I am not a therapist, and there are probably a thousand reasons why this is the wrong way to approach handling someone's trauma were you to wind up literally inside their head. But it was fun to write. And I'm looking forward to writing what I mean by “stop being a princess"!

After I heard Elsenaia’s scream, I appeared back in my own head to find her fleeing a large man in sleek black armor. He didn’t wear a helmet, but his face had a ghostly cast to it, and from the right angle it looked like nothing more than a skull.

“What is this thing!?” Elsenaia cried as she headed for me.

“Death. Or, a personification of it, anyway. For a story I’m writing.”

Elsenaia skidded past me, then turned around in shock. “Death!?”

I ignored her for a second and stepped up to Death. He raised his scythe, but I just flicked him in the forehead. “Oi. Knock it off. We have a guest.”

When he looked like he was going to be stubborn, I folded my arms and glared at him. “Do you want me to call Life over, instead?”

He flinched and sulked away. Elsenaia’s jaw gaped open as she watched him go.

I turned to her and asked, “You alright?”

“I… you… How…?”

I wasn’t 100% sure what she was asking, but I said, “Well, they’re in my head, aren’t they? So I can exert a bit of control over them, especially as characters I created.”

“Death isn’t even a person! It’s just a thing that happens! How can it be walking around in your head!?”

Is that what the issue is? “I said it already, didn’t I? That’s a personification of death.”

She still looked confused, so I said, “Okay, it’s like… Take some sort of abstract concept. Maybe an emotion of some kind. Can you think of a person, or an object, or anything, that represents that concept?”

Elsenaia nodded slowly. “Like a really happy person to represent happiness?”

“Exactly. Personification is like that. You take something that isn’t human–” I pause, then reconsider my words. “Rather, something that isn’t a person, and give it person-like traits. You can even take the concept and imagine what it would be like as a person.” I look at her askance. “Do elves really not have a concept like that?”

Elsenaia started to shake her head, then paused. “I… I actually don’t know.”

Eh? “You don’t know?”

“I… didn’t have much chance to choose my own reading material.”

Okay, that is straight up weird. I went back to Elsenaia’s head and started prodding a little more forcefully. I heard her ask, “Wait, what are you–”, but I kept pushing forward.

I found myself in front of a thick stone wall, sealing… something off. I could hear the faint sounds of someone crying on the other side.

I hit the wall once, just to see if it would react, and then looked around for something I could use to force my way in. “Oh, wait. This is all in our heads, right?” I concentrate for a second, and manage to materialize the Giant Crusher Hammer from Elden Ring.

“Oof, that’s heavy.” Fortunately, I was able to lift it still. I swung once, and the impact shook the whole building.

Elsenaia materialized and grabbed one of my arms. “Wait! Please!”

I turned to look at her. “That’s you, crying on the other side, isn’t it?”

She didn’t answer, but her eyes still pleaded with me to stop. I put one hand on her head and said softly, “If I stop now, who is ever going to let you free?”

Her eyes went wide, but after a second or two, she let go of my arm and took a few steps back. I nod to her once, and then hoist the hammer again. I called out to the other side, “Watch out, I’m coming in!”

The crying paused, and I swung the hammer two, three times. A small hole formed in the wall, and I could see a small elven girl on the other side. “Wait just a bit; we’ll have you out soon.”

I kept at it with the hammer, and soon the rest of the wall had collapsed. The little girl rushed out and hugged me. “Shh, it’s okay, it’s alright. You’re free now.”

A flood of Elsenaia’s memories washed over me, as everything she’d been keeping repressed or locked away burst out at once. I saw the day Tairsi’s family had been sent away, and how she’d told Elsenaia, “I guess princesses aren’t supposed to have friends.”

I saw the cold looks her father often gave her, and the countless hours of studying. I saw the harsh training Darrett, the angry guard, put her through. I saw her joy as she discovered magic, and the jealous looks from her brother at how quickly she picked it up. Countless other memories surfaced, all panting the sheer loneliness Elsenaia lived with day to day.

I hugged the little Elsie close and whispered, “I’ll be your friend.”

The little girl pulled away and said, “But princesses aren’t allowed to have friends.”

“Then it’s simple.” I turned and grinned at the real Elsenaia behind me. “Just stop being a princess.”

<-Elsenaia First

<-Elsenaia Previous

Elsenaia Next->

24 September 2022

This was fun. I loosely based the MC of the Elsenaia story off of my own head, since that’s what I have access to, and I have a lot of weird and/or terrifying characters running around in there. So what would happen if she ran into one?

I come back to this idea and revise it later; I think the idea that she was utterly cut off from fiction to be unlikely, so later I took time to map out more of what her life looked like and what she’d been through.

The rest of my journey through the palace hallway was an interesting experience. I could feel Elsenaia pouting at me; she was trying so hard to be angry and indignant, but it was all undercut by the embarrassment I could feel all around me. 

I was not surprised by her fondness for cute things, not that the weekly day where the public could petition her for things was tedious as all get-out. What surprised me was the way she entertained herself during those days; she’d try to imagine whatever conflicts were brought before had happened in ridiculous situations, like underwater, or by taking the point of the conflict to its extremes. This did, unfortunately, backfire on her, as thinking outside the box meant she came up with solutions that weren’t always immediately obvious, and people began flocking to her court over the others.

Meanwhile, she poked around in my head, trying to ignore all the memories I was sifting through. She spent a great deal of time looking at D&D things; the idea of playing out another character’s life, especially with other people, fascinating, even if she did spend a long time ranting about the elf stat blocks.

Another time, I was poking around to see if Elsenaia had anything she actively enjoyed doing, rather than felt obligated to do, when I heard her scream from my mind.

I popped over, only to find Elsenaia running desperately from a hulking skeletal figure wearing ominous black armor and wielding a scythe.

“Why do you have Death wandering around your head!?” Elsenaia screamed, and she headed straight for me.

I sighed, and with a small smile I walked past her to the reaper. He raised his scythe to swing, but I just reached up and flicked him in the forehead. “Oi. Knock it off. You’re scaring her.”

When the reaper started looking obstinate, I folded my arms and raised an eyebrow. “Would you rather I called Life over?”

The reaper flinched and sulked off. I turned and flashed Elsenaia a smile.

She just stared at the reaper, jaw gaping. When she finally looked over at me, she asked weakly, “Life?”

“His wife. Or maybe his wife-to-be? His crush? I dunno; depends on what part of the story he’s from. Time’s weird in here.”

“You have an aspect of Life in your head.”

I shrugged. “Well, sure. Why not? They’re not real; they’re just characters I made up for a story I’m writing.”

Eslenaia’s legs gave out from under her, and she plopped to the ground.

“Hey, wait, are you okay?” I crouched down and reached out to her.

“Yeah. Yeah, I just… need a minute.”

I shift so I’m sitting down properly, and we stay like that for several minutes. Finally, she spoke. “They’re… characters in a story, you said?”

“Yep. Or, well, a group of stories, I suppose. You know I want to write, right?”

Elsenaia nodded. “But I’m not sure I understand what that means.”

“Well, look.” I opened my mind to scenes of my wtiting, and to the “How Writers Become Authors” blog. “Basically, I want to tell stories for a living. Isn’t there anyone in your culture that does that?”

Elsenaia moved to shake her head, then stopped herself. “I’m… not sure. I never had time for things like that.”

I blinked, and materialized a movie drawer so I could start sifting through my memories.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“You need a chance to relax. Time’s meaningless here, right? I figured I could show you a movie or something before you go.” I growled at the drawer of DVDs. “If there’s even any I can remember the whole way through, that is.”

Elsenaia’s eyes were drawn to one; the Hobbit collection of movies. An image of Tauriel flashed across like a mini preview. “What’s that one?”

“Oh, that’s the Hobbit, based on the book by J.R.R. Tolkein.” I noticed her expression and asked, “I don’t remember it very well, but do you want to watch it?”

She nodded, and I began letting it play. When she first saw Fili and Kili, she complained, “Those aren’t dwarves.”

“Agreed. They’re definitely men.”

“They don’t even look like dwarves.”

“Hm. But at least Fili has a cool beard.” I glance over at her. “Have you met many dwarves?”

“Only a couple.”

Sensing a bit of awkwardness, I peeked into her memories to find one of a dwarf catching sight of her for the first time, only to immediately propose as dramatically as possible. The rest of his fellows came and dragged him off while the leader of the group apologized profusely, and explained that this was “the young lad’s first time abroad, so he hasn’t gotten used to the sights yet”. The whole thing had made Elsenaia feel very awkward.

I laughed, but rather than the indignant reaction I’d expected, Elsenaia just told me to hush.

When I glanced at the screen, it was the parts about Tauriel’s romance with Kili. Elsenaia was completely enraptured by it. At one point she asked, “Do you think I could ever have that?”

I shrug. “Why not? I mean, I don’t know how anyone else will react, but I think the choice should still be yours.”

<-Elsenaia First

<-Elsenaia Previous

Elsenaia Next->

18 September 2022

This is the creation story for my homebrewed D&D story. Or, well, the first part of it. I may add more later. It’s been ages since I’ve played, but I do enjoy it, and I enjoy the worldbuilding aspect it inspires. My setting does differ from mainstream D&D settings in a few ways here and there, but that’s part of the fun for me. I’m not the first person to think of Life and Death being a couple who gave birth to everything else, but it’s an idea I find fascinating.

If I were ever to make this serious, there are definitely some things in this I’d expand upon. Also, this is 100% fiction, and doesn’t represent my actually religious beliefs. I probably didn’t need to say that, but you never know.

Before the beginning, there were only two, Mother Life and Father Death. Some say they were exiled from other realms, others that they wandered from their home to grow beyond the limits of what they were. And they stepped into the dark, and it was empty, and cold.

To stave off the cold, they embraced each other, and Mother Life conceived. To comfort her in her pregnancy, Father Death formed earth for her to lie on, and soon a baby girl was born to them, with flaming gold hair, and brought light to the darkness. In joy, the two gods wept and held their baby close. The Mother’s bed became the earth and the spirit Genbu, and their tears became the oceans and the spirit Aruna.

The baby grew, and as she grew she laughed loud and often. When she did, her hair would flare flames so furious it would boil the new oceans. The first flames fell deep in the earth, and became the spirit Pele. Mother Life wished for her daughter to know beauty, and so with her power grew a garden bed for her little girl. And even as her flames burned it, so too did her light sustain its life.

In time, Mother Life and Father Death again conceived and bare a son, who could shatter mountains with his cries. His first wail became the winds and the spirit Zephyr. With his winds, the boy learned to bring water to the garden the children now shared and let it rain, softening his sister’s flames and creating the first storm.

The two children would often fight and grieve Mother Life and Father Death. When they saw this, the four great spirits gathered and said, “We must do something.” So each shared of their essences to create a being in the image of their makers, and thus the first giant was born. They made many more, and brought them to the children, who stopped fighting to admire them in wonder, and play with them.

Mother Life and father Death were also impressed, and praised the spirits. “However,” Mother Life said, “they do not yet truly live. They are still little more than puppets.”

The spirits sorrowed, and Father Death cautioned, “If we grant them life, we must also grant them death. They will not be eternal, as the gods or the spirits. Do you still wish them to live?”

With one voice, the spirits pleaded for them to make it so. And the Mother and the Father granted life to the giants.