Fodder for the Earth

[This is entirely @rrrawrf-writes‘ fault, because we can’t create minor character without them becoming fully-fleshed and adorable. So have some relatively unimportant backstory for two unimportant characters that I adore. Boar is @rrrawrf-writes‘, and Jyyr is mine. This is from my Wolf at the Gates universe/her Bannerworld universe, because there are no rules here. Content warnings for wartime violence.]

Jyyr never wanted to be a soldier.

He had made that abundantly clear when the group of ‘recruiters’ first found him in Rivercrest. He had told them exactly where they could stick their letters from the crown. Cordell may have been at war, and maybe they were seeking mages to help, and maybe a metal mage would have been extremely helpful to their efforts against Eola, but he didn’t care. He was a craftsman. He bent metal to make sconces and horseshoes and jewelry, and he offered to craft them swords and arrowheads, but that wasn’t enough. They wanted him in battle. And he couldn’t bend away a rope noose, or a casual threat against his family that made their swords rattle in their scabbards. 

So Jyyr Darbinyan went to report for duty. A leather set of armor left something to be desired, as did the military-issue weaponry, but that didn’t bother him as much as it bothered him to see the others suited in it. He could turn away arrowheads, bend swords, curve knives back on their owners, but the men around him, they–

They felt like fodder for the earth.

“You know, if you keep making that face, it might get stuck that way.”

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Boromir gets the fright of his life their first night on the road

Haven't been writing much lately, because we've been focusing so much on our business. We're an LLC now, and gearing up for craft shows and various events. Living the dream!

Valet tray mania over here lately! Various styles available as we get stocked up for fall shows. Which is your favorite?

Find them here!

what people think writing is: worldbuilding, churning out entire chapters in one sitting, metaphors, character building, finishing novels, flawless plotlines

what writing actually is: random 1 am thoughts, zoning out into fictional worlds, associating songs with characters, writer’s block for six weeks at a time, coming up with plot twists at the most inconvenient times

Bro, We Are Homies . Its Ok To Infodump To Me . Im Ur Friend . I Love You . And Your OCs. … Bro, We Are Drawing Eachother Fanart Now . . No Dont Stop Randomly Messaging Me Bro .. Bro … 

All this site ever talks about are Italian Grandmas, where’s the appreciation for my Italian Found Grandpas?

Hi! About the WatD AU where Delgos is going to make Kendrick break: I thought you should know that I have read it 4 times in two days. And retreaded it in my mind inbetween. Aaaaghh! When Kendrick hits milestones towards breaking he will recognise them as milestones. He is going to know that Delgos could have used a brank but didn't need to; a "too soft" gag was enough to make him beg. It's catnip. It's gold. I think he is perhaps not yet scared of how making that analysis will feel 1 /Calluna

but he knows he will make it. And you've made it loom over the story, how knowing he's going downhill will eat at his hope so his very expertise makes him contribute to his own breaking. It's probably clearest* in the line about how "hope of escape would poison into the despair of inevitability" and I love how "the pit of his aching stomach" calls up both his dread and his hunger. (*Clearest as in: I might have only felt and not seen this shadow without that line.) 2 /Calluna

Also wonderful is bracketing a paragraph inside "Kendrick didn't sleep." and "He didn't sleep." Actually the movement of time in the whole piece is another thing I very much enjoy. More lovely phrases: "A bubble of curses" "You let me know when your pride has started to whimper, huh?" "holding his gaze like a viper pinning a mouse". And "each word like a grain of sand in an hourglass" as the reading experience crescendoes in that absolutely delicious escalating pleading for water. 3 /Calluna

I might read it again tomorrow. 4 /Calluna

---

So um I want you to know that I read this about four times and might have cried a little. I haven't written in a long time; between having a pretty bad mental health breakdown last fall, and then moving this winter/spring, and then focusing on our side business, I haven't had time or inclination to start writing. I couldn't tell you the last time I put words on a page. I actually thought about Wolf at the Gates today and how sad I was that I had shelved it and not sure what else to do with it. And how I still need to finish Horseshoes and Hand Grenades. And all the other stories still lingering like smoke from a blown-out candle.

But it didn't feel much like it mattered, because who else was really waiting for me to write it, other than me?

Apparently more than I thought.

Thank you, sincerely. I didn't know how badly I needed to hear it.

losing it over this

he's entirely correct

This is definitely my new favorite piece! 100% hand stitched and made with pride, this tote is real black leather and hair-on acid washed rainbow cow hide. Finished with rainbow stitching and a rainbow heart zipper, it's super shiny, soft, and durable. One of a kind! What do you think?

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@sketchy-panda​

The fact that 2021 begun with a sea shanty renaissance and three months later ships are back on the 1700 trade routes is, actually, extremely funny.

Some fun new stock added in the shop today! I’m in love with the green and white necklace myself. Which one is your favorite?

Vendave Excerpt - Roger’s Ford

Here is an excerpt I promised @knightedwriter, which comes from book two, Dragon on the Mountain. It’s a long excerpt, but I figured she wouldn’t mind.

Okay, so for context: T'ke and Alastair are traveling together because of Plot Reasons, and they’ve come upon a city called Roger’s Ford. They need to cross the bridge to continue, but there is a large celebration going on in the city and the bridge is closed until after the celebration is over. No big deal, they’ll hang out for a day or two. Even though the city gives them both odd vibes. They hear the celebration is about the founding of the city, wherein a fisherman was dragged along by a giant albino catfish and landed in Roger’s Ford. The whole city is oddly obsessed with this story, and upon seeing T'ke they all think he must be incredibly lucky. T'ke very much doesn’t like the attention and is hiding in his room at the Inn. Alastair is wandering the city before the main ceremony, taking in the sights. Excuse the old writing, as this is before rewrites and it has its issues, but it’s a fun scene anyway.

——

“Hey!” one of the fishermen called, waving a free hand. “Knight! You’re the one that came in last night, right? You and the lucky man?”

Alastair turned, making his way towards the man. “Yes. Are you having any luck this morning?”

“I was hoping one of you would come out.” The man stood, pulling in his line and holding the hook against his pole carefully. “Come with me, I want to show you something.”

“Me?”

The fisher nodded emphatically. “Come along! There’s no better luck than a newcomer on a day like this, much less someone who came with a great white man like you did.” He gestured for the knight to follow, leading him downstream, away from the the bustle and noise.

Alastair smiled some, shaking his head. “You know I’ve never been very lucky. I don’t think I’ll be able to help you catch a fish.”

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