I write. And cheer on my friends as they also write. I finished my novel Embers and am currently working on the sequel for it, Forever Falling.
Link for my epic adventure fantasy novel series:
"How does one live? By blood and brain and heart and guts. If these four can be kept, a man will live long. But, to save a life is not as simple as a bandage. To mend a fractured skull, or suture an eviscerated abdomen, or save a bleeding heart. The best redeemers work in the Imperial Arenas, and they are wonders upon the land." --Excerpt from the Introduction of Wounded in Arena Combat: Treatments by Hildquock Pasweh
"With the exception of nearby islands, there is no land beyond the ice and oceans. Endless water awaits, unless one ventures to a point known as The Ridge. This vague 'ridge' separates those who explore and those who disappear. It is an imaginary line that swallows ships that cross it.
Does the Ridge move? Does it waver or slant? What causes these ships to disappear and why? Do waves engulf ships that tempt the gods' wrath? Sailors have oft contributed great sums to the Sea God, Drakenocsis, only to disappear after venturing to The Ridge.
The ship's size nor belief nor crew competency alters the result. The Ridge swallows everything it encounters. What is it? No one knows. It exists though, more assuredly than you or I."--Explorations: A Guide by Frozz Pickern
Uber writing session--lots of dialogue, so it seemed to go really quickly. Hence, the large amount written (although it was over two sessions to get that much written).
Delwok cared for the boy, but only so much as a relative. He and Vayad spent little time together, only the bare minimum it seemed. Whereas, he and Natali chatted often. She enjoyed the deep and varied conversation they would have—something his wife and he rarely had. He recognized that Natali merely wanted to glean information from him. So he abliged. There was no one else to talk to, and she did not come around often enough for him to resent her company. She kept mostly away, but her company over the dozen or so times that she came by in those many months was a pleasant change of pace.
After half his face burned, he had thought people would nickname him. No one dared.
Wyseld, a man of emerald eyes and red hair, lived in Nomlesk mostly. Mostly, because he was a mercenary who had made an excellent life for himself. On occasion, he traveled to Phav or Rhea on business, but he preferred the city-states to the empire life. What was it that drew him to Nomlesk? He was not sure. He knew four languages—the main ones in both Phav and Rhea, and two for Nomlesk—but, that wasn't why he preferred the city-states.
Forgot to post yesterday..ugh. Was working almost exclusively on the plot (central plotline)...spent hours and hours thinking about how different things could work together.
Edit: Added another 1154. Slaughtering it. Super exciting stuff--the next 20-30K should go by in a snap. Lots of action, intrigue, etc.
Edit sample preview:
King Ozil lived and breathed in a dynastic fashion, one that changed hands every two generations, back all the way to six hundred years prior. Their industry used to be more militaristic, but it was very costly. Their city-state languished in war and peace, ebbing and flowing with little change. All the time though, the world's population had grown. And Cvar had one of the most fertile stretches of ground of anywhere.
And so one generation, three hundred years prior, had seen the trend and negotiated for additional fertile land. They parleyed it into their main source of income. So far as Cvar was concerned, Warrick merely copied them except for the fact that they aggressively took their land.
After the empires formed, very little land exchanged hands, but now both Cvar and Warrick were in possession of great swaths of fertile land. They wisely used half the land, leaving the other half fallow. As such, it allowed a burgeoning farmer-worker class to appear. One year a farmer, one year a worker.