This is a slightly different article than I am used to writing, as it won’t necessarily focus on writing a novel, but more on a passing fancy I’ve always had in writing screenplays and scripts for graphic novels, both fascinating mediums for telling stories in vivid images. However, some aspects of what I am about to talk about do transcend mediums and can apply to novels as much as any visual medium.
Every year we see new developments in computer graphic technology, new and interesting styles of art, inking, and panelling in graphic novels, and these are all amazing and awe inspiring things. They make stories easier to tell in their respective mediums, because with them we can show new things that you couldn’t show before. While some fan boys might hate me for saying this, George Lucas illustrates my point the best with many of his digital enhancements of the original Star Wars movies. The addition of digital banthas and rontos in Mos Eisley (Episode IV) did, in fact, add something to the story that wasn’t there before.
Conversely, these advancements in the methodology of visual media are something of a double-edged sword; they can cut both ways and have negative impacts as much as positive ones. The users of these technologies and methodologies can, in fact, rely on them too heavily and forget the essence of storytelling: to compel people with thought provoking stories and situations.
That is, in my opinion, the core of good storytelling, to provoke discussion and thought on topics of importance or even on topics of philosophy. No matter what it is you wish to see discussed as a result of your work, you should never let how it looks surpass what it means.
Take, for example, the new blockbuster leviathan Avatar, written and directed (perhaps that is the core problem) by James Cameron, the Master of new and shiny moving pictures. Avatar has taken a lot of bad press about its overt racism, and I won’t beat that dead horse except to say my God, how obvious it was that the navi were native Americans, right down to having Wes Studi (a familiar face from Last of the Mohicans) play the Chief. I don't see that as racist, as it shouldn’t be taken as insulting to use the Native Americans as a model for the suffering of man’s Manifest Destiny.
What I didn’t like about the movie, and truthfully what spurred this piece, was the obvious lack of a new story. In fact, if I were to have effectively cut and pasted segments from a dozen other movies, I think I could have told the same story; it just wouldn’t look nearly as good. If you haven’t seen it, pay special attention to the main character’s speech at the Mother Tree, when it’s done, add, “They can take our lives, but they can never take our freedom.” My point should become very clear then.
Cameron, and anyone who helped him write Avatar, made a stunning movie with a limp story. Others have done the same thing (and some have ruined great stories). War of the Worlds and the Time Machine come to mind, where the visuals were quite good and the story was (by no fault of the original books) refuse. Then there is the knife forced into the heart of my childhood, Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen. I can say exactly what ruins the story (WARNING: SPOILER ALERT): it is the death, and rapid resurrection, of Optimus Prime.
Some of the great moments in fiction are death scenes, especially in speculative fiction genres. The death of King Arthur, Boromir of Gondor, Sturm Brightblade of Solamnia, and yes, Optimus Prime of Cybertron (at least in the original 1980s cartoon movie). These scenes actually inspire emotional response and set an example for the reader/viewer. Each person above died for a cause, most of them quite noble, and is honoured for it. The death of Prime in the most recent movie was a fine death scene, and I won’t lie, I was impressed and touched (I’m a fan boy, what can I say). The problem was, Optimus Prime is resurrected an hour later, given temporary upgrades in the style of some pulp Japanese anime, and the meat of his death, the message, the meaning, the essence of it, is destroyed because now the writer says “Death isn’t permanent and it is not a great sacrifice for a hero.”
I suspect I’ve gotten off track in my original message. I think if you suffer through it you can see I am saying that pretty pictures DO NOT EVER trump good story. Look at the lists of the American Film Institutes Top 100 movies (in any and all genres) and you’ll see that the greatest movies aren’t always the ones with amazing graphics (but it doesn’t hurt). Star Wars and 2001: A Space Odyssey top the science fiction list, Field of Dreams is in the top ten fantasy movies; Lawrence of Arabia, Ben Hur, and Schindler’s List top the Epic Movies Lists. All six movies have spectacular stories, clever cinematography, and some do use “new technology” (new for its time) to tell their story, none of them though, use that new technology as a crutch to sell tripe to viewers.
Background on the Human Species - Story Related
Just a warning to my readers: This contains spoilers! While the book isn’t published or even done, what follows might ruin it for you one day in the far-flung future as you read my book curled up around a holographic fire. BE WARNED!
Some information on Humanity in the story
Where do Humans Come from?
Where do Humans Come from?
The story is set in a variety of genres. On the largest scale, the story is science fiction pulp (or operatic) and on the smallest scale the story is a healthy mixture of Steampunk and Fantasy. Reconciling these disparate sub-genres is not an easy task, but is possible. Here we go!
There are two distinct varieties of Terrans (Terran, of course, is a blanket term for earthlings): Pre-stellar colonial Terrans and Diasporic Terrans.
Pre-stellar Colonial Terrans (or Colonials for short) represent those worlds and populations who have, since founding their worlds, forgotten the origins of their species and have yet to redevelop interstellar travel. These worlds can exist (and do) at or below the technological levels of current Earth. The majority of Terran worlds fit into the Colonial category, as Terran colonial efforts for several centuries occurred at or below the speed of light, and could take a very long time (for example, using a pulsed propulsion system could accelerate a ship to 10% the speed of light, and would still take sixty to seventy years to reach Alpha Centuari, more so on Earth due to relativity).
With these massive distances, and no way to make return trips (set amounts of fuel were usually stored for one trip, one way) Colony ships were equipped with everything the first population needed to get themselves started, and left very little room for error, with no real buffer zone for rations, machinery, and housing (including a gross error in calculating for population growth in transit). While there is no significant research into the early founding worlds, evidence suggests that 80% of them would become Pre-stellar and remain so for many generations.
The main world in our story – Taleasia – is an example of a Pre-Stellar Colonial World, where the fight to survive outweighed the desire to keep things like computers, data storage devices, and electronics functioning. What value does a portable music device have to a subsistence farmer anyways?
Diasporic Terrans represent two separate but equal groups. The first are the rare 10% of early founding worlds that were able to quickly gain a footing in stellar travel. Most of these colonies maintained their ship as a fortress or base of operations (where as Colonials were usually forced to scrap the ship for metal). These worlds then, have continued the spirit of Earth, and are a far brighter light in the sky (proverbially) for other worlds to find.
The second group of Diasporic Terrans come from a time period referred to as The Second Founding. Earth, still under the constant population pressures, have begun developing FTL (Faster than Light) engines and colony ships, developing worlds at greater distances from Earth, and maintaining communications with them (using what’s called a nano-pin relay).
A Note on the Human Genome Variants
When Earth began its push into space (to cope with overpopulation and resource shortage), it was akin to infants leaving their mother’s custody for the first time. They were entirely ignorant of the real threats in the blackness of space, and even more ignorant of the impact of their own act of playing God in tandem with the unknowns of space.
While Engineers and Scientists designed each Colony Ship to withstand known levels of radiation from the pulse propulsion systems and from cosmic interference, they could not possibly prepare a ship for levels of radiation, or for the closed gene pool and several generations of reproduction.
Couple these levels of radiation with the penchant of pre-Diasporic bio-engineers to attempt to alter human populations so as to reduce any given factor, and you have a broad spectrum of potential genome variations at the destinations.
For example, some Diasporic Terran worlds have reported, from their earliest years, cases of lycanthropy in the population. Originally dismissed as folklore and campfire stories by scientists, some credence has been given to these stories. The genomes associated with Congenital hypertrichosis (ed: look it up here, I’m not making this up) causes a wolf like appearance, and social ignorance might have caused individuals affected to revert to a feral survival state.
Essentially, there is little limit to the variety expected on Colonial/Diasporic worlds, and some researchers have proposed, that with time and breeding, new varieties of distinctly unique sapiens species might have developed (ed: Yes, Elves might appear and they might be genome variant 3LF).
ed: I'm working on more content as we speak, but I wanted to post this bit of juiciness for you right now, because I got excited and wanted to see some other people's opinions
X Marks the Spot
We’ve all heard that old adage, haven’t we? X marks the spot for treasure and it always leads to some sort of adventure, fraught with head hunting savages, quicksand, and nasty little monkeys.
For Worldbuilders the map is probably one of the most priceless commodities. As we create new peoples, cities, and landmarks, we need to record their positions for our own sake. I know I’ve talked about maps before (See blog entry: In the Beginning) but today I want to talk about them in more detail, and cover a few points of interest I’ve stumbled upon over the last few weeks.
As I mentioned in another blog entry, I have been working on a world map 17”x22 that’s roughly to scale. I was less interested in the overall scale of the map (that is, one inch equals one hundred miles or something like that) and more interested in the placement of things. I have been creating various cities, ruins and landscapes for my story, and realised knowing where they were really mattered.
For example, it wasn’t enough to know that the province of Bristyl was on the western coast of the continent, as that coast is huge. I needed to know where the island nation of Coventry Boondis (the nation that rules Bristyl) was in relation to the west coast, so that I could then say, “Yes, that spot is exactly where they’d build Bristyl.” Now the placement of Bristyl makes sense to me, its history makes more sense as well, as now I’ve decided that the colonisation of Bristyl started a war with the city state of Calsis, and resulted in the formation of the Bristyl Boys Militia (this militia, by the way, does have some importance in the long run of my story).
I started work on what I call the “Genesis” map before I really did any research on how to make maps. It was on a single 8.5”x11” sheet of graph paper and if you asked me at that time, I’d have said it looked pretty good. In hindsight, it wasn’t that good. I still use it of course, as it has most of the definition I want, so I scribble lakes and rivers and all of my landmarks on it, just to see how they might fit together. Once I’m happy with where things are (and it has taken time, I did spend several hours merely concerned with the placement of some mountains) I can transfer them to my new map, which is much bigger and not even a quarter of the way done.
What I’ve learned since starting my mapmaking adventures, kicked off in its fullness by Fantasy Mapmaking is that less is in fact more sometimes. It is the concept of balance; lots of artistic types know what that means. Basically, you always need dead space as much as filled to capacity space. The way I interpreted it was that you don’t want too much of anything, but you do want a little of a lot of things. It’s rare that you’ll find a “desert” world or a “forest” world (note: to those readers who know how much I love Star Wars, I suspend all disbelief for Lucas).
We want to put everything on our maps, don’t we? We want readers to see a map and know where every village, city, river’s crook and tree are at any given time, isn’t that the goal of a map? Sure it is, we use maps to find things, but sometimes we just have too many things to put on a map. Once you count all your villages, towns, cities, fortresses, forests, deserts, swamps, roads, borders, mountains, rivers, lakes, canals, railways, ruins, and points of sundry interest you’ve now got a map overflowing with things great and small and your readers (or even you) can be lost in what you see. Only add those details that you will need now, anything else can be added later.
One of the biggest detriments, I discovered, was writing too much on your map. I try to keep labels down to the minimum, only naming rivers by writing the river’s name along the course of the river. Other places and things, like cities and ruins, I use an alphanumeric combination next to them. So, the city of Barton Wod is labelled 1C, Coventry on Bry is labelled 2C, and Calsis is labelled 3C, et cetera et cetera. Ruins, archaeological sites, and monoliths are labelled 1R, 2R, and 3R. Each one gets a unique label, which I add to a hand written legend I’m keeping on a scrap piece of paper.
At first I was using thin post-it notes with titles written on them to label places, but quickly the map became obscured by post-it notes and I realised the alpha-numeric system was probably my best bet. This of course, is just the system I use, but yours might be different.
No matter what system you use to create your maps and label them, the idea that less is more still fits. In a lot of stories the borders of nations constantly fluctuate, or if you are using city-states rather than nation states, borders really are never permanent (or even really exist, look at a map of ancient Greece for proof). So now you don’t need to draw borders and label every nation by colours. Conversely, many borders (even today) are created by fairly natural boundaries, so you can just state that Nation X’s borders span from the Ural Mountains to the Danube River and not have to worry about yet another layer of detail.
I don’t think I’m an artisan mapmaker – not yet anyways – but I think I’m getting the hang of it. I imagine if my book is ever published, there will be a far better mapmaker who will take what I have done and improve on it. Until then, we all need maps to mark the spot.
My "Genesis" map, or the first map I drew of the entire world of Taleasia
Quadrant 2 of my larger map, as you can see it has really evolved since the Genesis version (quadrant two is the upper right of the genesis map)
The scrap paper legend to accompany Quadrant 2, I've used my own symbology and reference system
For Worldbuilders the map is probably one of the most priceless commodities. As we create new peoples, cities, and landmarks, we need to record their positions for our own sake. I know I’ve talked about maps before (See blog entry: In the Beginning) but today I want to talk about them in more detail, and cover a few points of interest I’ve stumbled upon over the last few weeks.
As I mentioned in another blog entry, I have been working on a world map 17”x22 that’s roughly to scale. I was less interested in the overall scale of the map (that is, one inch equals one hundred miles or something like that) and more interested in the placement of things. I have been creating various cities, ruins and landscapes for my story, and realised knowing where they were really mattered.
For example, it wasn’t enough to know that the province of Bristyl was on the western coast of the continent, as that coast is huge. I needed to know where the island nation of Coventry Boondis (the nation that rules Bristyl) was in relation to the west coast, so that I could then say, “Yes, that spot is exactly where they’d build Bristyl.” Now the placement of Bristyl makes sense to me, its history makes more sense as well, as now I’ve decided that the colonisation of Bristyl started a war with the city state of Calsis, and resulted in the formation of the Bristyl Boys Militia (this militia, by the way, does have some importance in the long run of my story).
I started work on what I call the “Genesis” map before I really did any research on how to make maps. It was on a single 8.5”x11” sheet of graph paper and if you asked me at that time, I’d have said it looked pretty good. In hindsight, it wasn’t that good. I still use it of course, as it has most of the definition I want, so I scribble lakes and rivers and all of my landmarks on it, just to see how they might fit together. Once I’m happy with where things are (and it has taken time, I did spend several hours merely concerned with the placement of some mountains) I can transfer them to my new map, which is much bigger and not even a quarter of the way done.
What I’ve learned since starting my mapmaking adventures, kicked off in its fullness by Fantasy Mapmaking is that less is in fact more sometimes. It is the concept of balance; lots of artistic types know what that means. Basically, you always need dead space as much as filled to capacity space. The way I interpreted it was that you don’t want too much of anything, but you do want a little of a lot of things. It’s rare that you’ll find a “desert” world or a “forest” world (note: to those readers who know how much I love Star Wars, I suspend all disbelief for Lucas).
We want to put everything on our maps, don’t we? We want readers to see a map and know where every village, city, river’s crook and tree are at any given time, isn’t that the goal of a map? Sure it is, we use maps to find things, but sometimes we just have too many things to put on a map. Once you count all your villages, towns, cities, fortresses, forests, deserts, swamps, roads, borders, mountains, rivers, lakes, canals, railways, ruins, and points of sundry interest you’ve now got a map overflowing with things great and small and your readers (or even you) can be lost in what you see. Only add those details that you will need now, anything else can be added later.
One of the biggest detriments, I discovered, was writing too much on your map. I try to keep labels down to the minimum, only naming rivers by writing the river’s name along the course of the river. Other places and things, like cities and ruins, I use an alphanumeric combination next to them. So, the city of Barton Wod is labelled 1C, Coventry on Bry is labelled 2C, and Calsis is labelled 3C, et cetera et cetera. Ruins, archaeological sites, and monoliths are labelled 1R, 2R, and 3R. Each one gets a unique label, which I add to a hand written legend I’m keeping on a scrap piece of paper.
At first I was using thin post-it notes with titles written on them to label places, but quickly the map became obscured by post-it notes and I realised the alpha-numeric system was probably my best bet. This of course, is just the system I use, but yours might be different.
No matter what system you use to create your maps and label them, the idea that less is more still fits. In a lot of stories the borders of nations constantly fluctuate, or if you are using city-states rather than nation states, borders really are never permanent (or even really exist, look at a map of ancient Greece for proof). So now you don’t need to draw borders and label every nation by colours. Conversely, many borders (even today) are created by fairly natural boundaries, so you can just state that Nation X’s borders span from the Ural Mountains to the Danube River and not have to worry about yet another layer of detail.
I don’t think I’m an artisan mapmaker – not yet anyways – but I think I’m getting the hang of it. I imagine if my book is ever published, there will be a far better mapmaker who will take what I have done and improve on it. Until then, we all need maps to mark the spot.
My "Genesis" map, or the first map I drew of the entire world of Taleasia
Quadrant 2 of my larger map, as you can see it has really evolved since the Genesis version (quadrant two is the upper right of the genesis map)
The scrap paper legend to accompany Quadrant 2, I've used my own symbology and reference system
The Shivasii as RP Elements
For RP playtesting of my story elements, races, classes, et cetera, I am primarily using Wizards of the Coast 3.5 edition 
era content, from Dungeons & Dragons
, Star Wars
, and d20 Modern
.
era content, from Dungeons & Dragons, Star Wars, and d20 Modern.
Alignment: Shivasii tend towards neutral alignments and are disinterested in global politics or fights for good or evil.
Language: Shivasii speak Shivan, but are able to learn the common human tongue when necessary
Names: Shivan names are traditionally three part names, composed of the given name, the family name, and the masculine or feminine form of the Shivasii term for life (vii for feminine, va for masculine). A masculine name example is Kree vhra va.
Adventurers: Shivasii tend not to venture beyond their borders. Those who do (usually exiles) find themselves in an unfortunate role as outlanders or as simple labourers. Those who can get accepted by other adventurers tend towards amassing coin for the purposes of finding a corner of the world to call their own.
Restrictions: Shivasii do not class as rogues, rangers, or paladins and are rarely (but not restricted) bards or druids.
Shivasii Racial Traits
- Medium: as medium creatures, Shivasii have no special bonuses or penalties due to their size
- Base land speed is 30ft
- +2STR, -2CHA, -2WIS
- Automatic Language(s): Shivasii
- Colour blind: Shivasii only see in shades of black and white
- Darkvision: Shivasii can see in the dark up to 60ft away but only in black and white
- Sturdy: Due to their bulk and musculature, Shivasii are well balanced and hard to move. They gain a +4 bonus on ability checks against being bull rushed or tripped while standing on firm ground.
- Favoured Class: Barbarian, Fighter.
- Favoured Profession: TBD as this supplement is worked out
The Vrah’mi Variation
The Vrah’mi are a rare and ruling element in Shivasii culture, and are rarely seen outside of the Erudi Island chains. As a result, selecting a Vrah’mi racial must be approved by the GM.
Shivasii Vrah’mi Racial Traits
- Medium: as medium creatures, Shivasii Vrah’mi have no special bonuses or penalties due to their size
- Base land speed is 30ft
- +2Int, -2STR, -2CHA
- Automatic Language(s): Shivasii
- Colour blind: Shivasii only see in shades of black and white
- Darkvision: Shivasii can see in the dark up to 60ft away but only in black and white
- Quick witted: Vrah’mi are mentally dexterous and able to learn quickly. They gain 8 extra skill points at first level
- Favoured Class: Wizard, Sorcerer
- Favoured Profession: TBD as this supplement is worked out
images are courtesy of gildeneye and siekfried respectively over at Deviantart.com big thanks to such great artists for helping with my inspiration
When in Doubt, Play
This week seems to be one of those weeks, you know the sort, where you just can’t seem to get things down on paper and every idea just looks like something a dimwitted turtle wrote (I pray that’s not every week and people just aren’t telling me).
Since I want to adhere to my deadline of a Friday post as much as possible, and since every Friday I try to post something that is “useful” to me as a world builder and storyteller, I thought I’d share with you one of my little secrets, the ace up my sleeve. I love to roleplay (Shocker, isn’t it?), and I love to use roleplaying resources to help me think up better and better ideas.
The beauty of the roleplaying game industry, and its benefits for writers of speculative fiction, is two fold. First, someone else has done all the really hard work for us! The Legions Vast at places like Wizards of the Coast or Steve Jackson Games Inc., have created a platform for us to experiment with. Stats for races, classes, tools, vehicles, and most importantly combat and interaction have already been written, tested, and laid out in plain and simple language that most anyone can follow. From games like Dungeons and Dragons (see the 4th Edition D&D Core Rulebooks
) to GURPS or Rifts they have given us the bedrock of our universe.
With this bedrock firmly intact, we as Secondhand Gods can manipulate – almost on an alchemical level – the very essence of these games. We can change the races to mimic the world we are building; we can alter and append classes or rules to suit the nuances of our worlds (and usually, they tell you how!). Are you writing a cyberpunk inspired novel with Mega-Corporations and evil robots? Well, Wizards of the Coast has a game for you. Are you writing a traditional “High Fantasy” series resplendent with fearsome orcs, trolls, and noble heroes who always get the girl? There’s a game for you.
This is something I like to do, when I can’t really wrap my head around where things are going, I start to roleplay. For example, I’ve been tinkering with the Shivasii, creating racial mechanics for them to fit into a Fantasy/Modern Steampunk universe using a combination of d20 resources. It forces me to think of what skills a Shivasii might have, how they might dress, arm themselves, what God they worship, even what sort of rations they carry. In the end, I’ll have created more information for the Shivasii, and have a d20 entry for future gaming.
The second benefit of this massive roleplaying industry is something most creators of anything can understand, and that’s playtesting. When we create something that we want people to enjoy, we can never be sure they will. We get so wrapped up in our own new world that we lose track of it. We think the robot on orc sex scene is revealing of something deep, but in fact, your readers think it’s disgusting. You can never be too sure.
Altering (or “Homebrewing”) a game system to your own ends, then getting four or five very trusted friends to play it out with you can be very helpful. Your friends will bring new insights and interpretations to the races, places, and purposes you are creating, and will almost always provide you with some new and exciting to work with.
Don’t believe me good reader? I can prove it! If you’ve read the classic Dragonlance Chronicles
from Margaret Weis and Tracy Hickman you might know that they roleplayed it as well, getting friends to play some of the most iconic characters in the franchise and allowing those characters to become more human, and more believable, as a result.
If you think playing a tabletop game is just childish, think of it as research in some stuffy library or as some sort of public relations panel testing a swatch of society for its interest in your work. In the end, you’ll come away with some new ideas and some new ways to think about that world you’re making for everyone to enjoy.
Since I want to adhere to my deadline of a Friday post as much as possible, and since every Friday I try to post something that is “useful” to me as a world builder and storyteller, I thought I’d share with you one of my little secrets, the ace up my sleeve. I love to roleplay (Shocker, isn’t it?), and I love to use roleplaying resources to help me think up better and better ideas.
The beauty of the roleplaying game industry, and its benefits for writers of speculative fiction, is two fold. First, someone else has done all the really hard work for us! The Legions Vast at places like Wizards of the Coast or Steve Jackson Games Inc., have created a platform for us to experiment with. Stats for races, classes, tools, vehicles, and most importantly combat and interaction have already been written, tested, and laid out in plain and simple language that most anyone can follow. From games like Dungeons and Dragons (see the 4th Edition D&D Core Rulebooks
) to GURPS or Rifts they have given us the bedrock of our universe.With this bedrock firmly intact, we as Secondhand Gods can manipulate – almost on an alchemical level – the very essence of these games. We can change the races to mimic the world we are building; we can alter and append classes or rules to suit the nuances of our worlds (and usually, they tell you how!). Are you writing a cyberpunk inspired novel with Mega-Corporations and evil robots? Well, Wizards of the Coast has a game for you. Are you writing a traditional “High Fantasy” series resplendent with fearsome orcs, trolls, and noble heroes who always get the girl? There’s a game for you.
This is something I like to do, when I can’t really wrap my head around where things are going, I start to roleplay. For example, I’ve been tinkering with the Shivasii, creating racial mechanics for them to fit into a Fantasy/Modern Steampunk universe using a combination of d20 resources. It forces me to think of what skills a Shivasii might have, how they might dress, arm themselves, what God they worship, even what sort of rations they carry. In the end, I’ll have created more information for the Shivasii, and have a d20 entry for future gaming.
The second benefit of this massive roleplaying industry is something most creators of anything can understand, and that’s playtesting. When we create something that we want people to enjoy, we can never be sure they will. We get so wrapped up in our own new world that we lose track of it. We think the robot on orc sex scene is revealing of something deep, but in fact, your readers think it’s disgusting. You can never be too sure.
Altering (or “Homebrewing”) a game system to your own ends, then getting four or five very trusted friends to play it out with you can be very helpful. Your friends will bring new insights and interpretations to the races, places, and purposes you are creating, and will almost always provide you with some new and exciting to work with.
Don’t believe me good reader? I can prove it! If you’ve read the classic Dragonlance Chronicles
from Margaret Weis and Tracy Hickman you might know that they roleplayed it as well, getting friends to play some of the most iconic characters in the franchise and allowing those characters to become more human, and more believable, as a result.If you think playing a tabletop game is just childish, think of it as research in some stuffy library or as some sort of public relations panel testing a swatch of society for its interest in your work. In the end, you’ll come away with some new ideas and some new ways to think about that world you’re making for everyone to enjoy.
The Shivasii
In sections like this, I start to post the things I am actually creating for my stories. Its here that I am the most interested in feedback from readers. Criticisms of the constructive sort are really appreciated.
Shivasii (pronounced she-va-se) are the tallest known civilised bipeds on Taleasia. Standing anywhere from 2.5m to 3.0m, the Shivasii are powerfully built, with very dense bone structure and musculature, reflecting the “Slave Origin Theory” (see histories, below).
During early interactions between humans and Shivasii, the Shivasii were called Drakes, reflecting their generally draconic appearance. They have elongated necks, snouts (snouts are one of two ways to tell a Shivasii apart from his brothers), and four prehensile, grasping, digits on each hand, complete with sharp bone claws. The eyes are mounted on the sides of their heads with a 55-65 degree overlap, providing a wider scope of binocular vision than humans.
The majority of Shivasii have vestigial tails (no more than 0.25m-0.50m long) and noticeable, non-functioning wings. These are usually attributed to a vestigial evolutionary trait, but some experts contend that the Shivasii do, in fact, use these wings for some sort of glide.
While the shape, length, and width of a Shivasii snout is one factor in distinguishing individuals, scale hue is the second. Colours of Shivasii scale range all across primary colour spectrum (ROYGBIV), occurring in various shades and depths. Most families share chromatic similarities, but rarely are they identical.
Approximately ten percent of offspring are born Vrah’mi (translated literally as blessed with gifts). The Vrah’mi are physically diminutive compared to the baseline Shivasii, but are also the only Shivasii who are able to grasp both the subtlety of science and the divinity of magic. These techno-mages are the de facto rulers of the Shivasii.
In Shivasii, Culture is synonymous with Religion (this is true linguistically. Religion in Shivasii is shii’tru and Culture in Shivasii is shii’tru va, where va translates as life). The Shivasii are extremely xenophobic to the degree of being xeno-belligerent; Shivasii religion encourages purity, preaching the “Blessed and sacrosanct va of the Shivasii” and outlines the ways that the purity of one’s va must be protected.
Shivasii are warned, in their ancient teachings, against the ”impure taint of the lesser being, the heretic, the exile, and the lame.” Doctrine demands the slaughter of children born with any noticeable defects; “lesser beings” (such as humans) are usually killed on sight, with the exception of diplomats who are just sent away with a warning (warnings, in Shivasii usually involve losing a finger). Heretics are never tolerated, and those “Heretics” of high enough influence (sons and daughters of leaders, or those who would just become martyrs) are exiled to the main lands of the human, forced to spend their remaining days in a sea of impurity.
The Shivasii are a very practical people in all things, especially religion. They have no temples, rather community centres. They worship the va of all things; killing is condoned, but requires praise. Hunters, farmers who slaughter livestock, even the warriors who kill heretics and encroaching humans must tithe for forgiveness.
The Shivasii God does not follow the same principles as most other religions in Taleasia. While humans, and the sundry sub-civilised peoples worship a plethora of gods, the Shivasii worship the energy of the universe. They worship the shek’va, or World Life, which they feel is responsible for all things in the universe. The shek’va creates good, evil, life, creativity, hatred, and all things except death, which is attributed to the counter-concept of shek’cre, World Death.
The tenets of the Shivasii faith create a very strict hierarchy in society. The Vrah’mi rule from above, their abilities in science and magic making creating a form of techno-theocracy. They assign absolute power to the demands of the shek’va, which they claim their powers and knowledge allow them to communicate with.
Directly below the Vrah’mi are the Shi’sa, the body of the people. Any individual can petition to enter the Shi’sa, and after rigorous tests and challenges, they are assigned to any one of the administrative branches of the people.
Next to the Shi’sa, sharing equal power is the Shi’vsa, the arm or the people. Only the strongest Shivasii enter the ranks of the Shi’vsa, becoming great warriors and defenders of the purity.
The remainder of the population, the Shi’sii are farmers, merchants, and the assorted workers of society. Placements in one of the castes of Shivasii culture can happen as early as birth (in the case of the Vrah’mi) but more usually it occurs in adolescence, during the rites of passage all Shivasii participate in.
In regards to Shivasii family life, they do mate for life, but do not have any rituals. The females maintain true dominance in all things, and are in fact the larger of the species and the dominant hunters. Females are the rulers of Shivasii society to a large degree, with the exception that both male and female Shivasii can become Vrah'mi.
The Shivasii occupy the Erudi Island Chain, situated on the southwestern edge of the Great Bay. While they have made attempts at expansion, most recently the colonisation (and subsequent expulsion) of territories under the dominion of Coventry upon Bry.
The Erudi Island Chain is probably one of the more desolate sections of known Taleasia, at least by human standards. The soil is not satisfactory for farming, and there are no conventional forests. The Needlespire Forest, on one of the largest islands in the chain, consists of the dense, quasi-metallic, needlespire tree, which grows approximately five metres tall and branches very little.
The island chain is, however, well suited to the Shivasii, who subside on diets of fish and game. The island’s second largest species, the spiny-ridged boar, is the staple of Shivasii diet, followed closely by the blue-finned oceanic grouper.
Shivasii have not built many cities, rather they rely on numerous small towns called rooks, where a dozen large family units will reside. The exception is Kre’rin, a medium sized central island in the chain, which has flourished as a city of its own. Kre’rin is said to be the most beautiful natural sight in Taleasia, where the Shivasii have combined the natural rock spires of the island with their technology and magic to create a stunning city.
History
The “official history” of the Shivasii states that, in the depth of time, they were the first creators of empire on Taleasia before humanity had even crawled out of their caves. They spanned the two great continents and dominated everything under their heel.
To this day, the Shivasii claim to have built the Monoliths of the Croucous plains, the Great Walls of the Caminus mountain range, and the ancient roads that crisscross the two great continents in varying states of disrepair.
However, the Shivasii – or at least those in exile – cannot justify this historical interpretation with the evidence at hand. How, then, can a species who claims to have held dominance over a world, now reside on a small chain of islands?
Most Shivasii would claim it was the will of the shek’va, or the punishment of shek’cre (interpretations vary) and that would be enough for most Shivasii.
Evidence from archaeological digs in Wod’s Crook, Solsis Hill, and the Barrow Terraces suggest a new theory of Shivasii origins. The “Slave Origin Theory,” postulated by Charlston Kenth, Lord Grenok, suggests that the Shivasii are in fact the first builders of Empire, but nothing more than that. They were, Lord Grenok claims, the well-bred, or well built, slaves of a yet unknown empire.
Lord Grenok supports this by pointing out the drive to perfection in Shivasii culture and religion, which he links to a need for the perfect slave in construction. It also explains, he claims, why the Shivasii don’t have colonies across the two continents.
Whatever the true history is, many aspects will remain shrouded in mystery, either due to the xenophobia of Shivasii, or due to the lack of empirical evidence from current scientific study.
Appearance
Shivasii (pronounced she-va-se) are the tallest known civilised bipeds on Taleasia. Standing anywhere from 2.5m to 3.0m, the Shivasii are powerfully built, with very dense bone structure and musculature, reflecting the “Slave Origin Theory” (see histories, below).
During early interactions between humans and Shivasii, the Shivasii were called Drakes, reflecting their generally draconic appearance. They have elongated necks, snouts (snouts are one of two ways to tell a Shivasii apart from his brothers), and four prehensile, grasping, digits on each hand, complete with sharp bone claws. The eyes are mounted on the sides of their heads with a 55-65 degree overlap, providing a wider scope of binocular vision than humans.
The majority of Shivasii have vestigial tails (no more than 0.25m-0.50m long) and noticeable, non-functioning wings. These are usually attributed to a vestigial evolutionary trait, but some experts contend that the Shivasii do, in fact, use these wings for some sort of glide.
While the shape, length, and width of a Shivasii snout is one factor in distinguishing individuals, scale hue is the second. Colours of Shivasii scale range all across primary colour spectrum (ROYGBIV), occurring in various shades and depths. Most families share chromatic similarities, but rarely are they identical.
Approximately ten percent of offspring are born Vrah’mi (translated literally as blessed with gifts). The Vrah’mi are physically diminutive compared to the baseline Shivasii, but are also the only Shivasii who are able to grasp both the subtlety of science and the divinity of magic. These techno-mages are the de facto rulers of the Shivasii.
Culture & Religion
In Shivasii, Culture is synonymous with Religion (this is true linguistically. Religion in Shivasii is shii’tru and Culture in Shivasii is shii’tru va, where va translates as life). The Shivasii are extremely xenophobic to the degree of being xeno-belligerent; Shivasii religion encourages purity, preaching the “Blessed and sacrosanct va of the Shivasii” and outlines the ways that the purity of one’s va must be protected.
Shivasii are warned, in their ancient teachings, against the ”impure taint of the lesser being, the heretic, the exile, and the lame.” Doctrine demands the slaughter of children born with any noticeable defects; “lesser beings” (such as humans) are usually killed on sight, with the exception of diplomats who are just sent away with a warning (warnings, in Shivasii usually involve losing a finger). Heretics are never tolerated, and those “Heretics” of high enough influence (sons and daughters of leaders, or those who would just become martyrs) are exiled to the main lands of the human, forced to spend their remaining days in a sea of impurity.
The Shivasii are a very practical people in all things, especially religion. They have no temples, rather community centres. They worship the va of all things; killing is condoned, but requires praise. Hunters, farmers who slaughter livestock, even the warriors who kill heretics and encroaching humans must tithe for forgiveness.
The Shivasii God does not follow the same principles as most other religions in Taleasia. While humans, and the sundry sub-civilised peoples worship a plethora of gods, the Shivasii worship the energy of the universe. They worship the shek’va, or World Life, which they feel is responsible for all things in the universe. The shek’va creates good, evil, life, creativity, hatred, and all things except death, which is attributed to the counter-concept of shek’cre, World Death.
The tenets of the Shivasii faith create a very strict hierarchy in society. The Vrah’mi rule from above, their abilities in science and magic making creating a form of techno-theocracy. They assign absolute power to the demands of the shek’va, which they claim their powers and knowledge allow them to communicate with.
Directly below the Vrah’mi are the Shi’sa, the body of the people. Any individual can petition to enter the Shi’sa, and after rigorous tests and challenges, they are assigned to any one of the administrative branches of the people.
Next to the Shi’sa, sharing equal power is the Shi’vsa, the arm or the people. Only the strongest Shivasii enter the ranks of the Shi’vsa, becoming great warriors and defenders of the purity.
The remainder of the population, the Shi’sii are farmers, merchants, and the assorted workers of society. Placements in one of the castes of Shivasii culture can happen as early as birth (in the case of the Vrah’mi) but more usually it occurs in adolescence, during the rites of passage all Shivasii participate in.
In regards to Shivasii family life, they do mate for life, but do not have any rituals. The females maintain true dominance in all things, and are in fact the larger of the species and the dominant hunters. Females are the rulers of Shivasii society to a large degree, with the exception that both male and female Shivasii can become Vrah'mi.
Geography
The Shivasii occupy the Erudi Island Chain, situated on the southwestern edge of the Great Bay. While they have made attempts at expansion, most recently the colonisation (and subsequent expulsion) of territories under the dominion of Coventry upon Bry.
The Erudi Island Chain is probably one of the more desolate sections of known Taleasia, at least by human standards. The soil is not satisfactory for farming, and there are no conventional forests. The Needlespire Forest, on one of the largest islands in the chain, consists of the dense, quasi-metallic, needlespire tree, which grows approximately five metres tall and branches very little.
The island chain is, however, well suited to the Shivasii, who subside on diets of fish and game. The island’s second largest species, the spiny-ridged boar, is the staple of Shivasii diet, followed closely by the blue-finned oceanic grouper.
Shivasii have not built many cities, rather they rely on numerous small towns called rooks, where a dozen large family units will reside. The exception is Kre’rin, a medium sized central island in the chain, which has flourished as a city of its own. Kre’rin is said to be the most beautiful natural sight in Taleasia, where the Shivasii have combined the natural rock spires of the island with their technology and magic to create a stunning city.
History
The “official history” of the Shivasii states that, in the depth of time, they were the first creators of empire on Taleasia before humanity had even crawled out of their caves. They spanned the two great continents and dominated everything under their heel.
To this day, the Shivasii claim to have built the Monoliths of the Croucous plains, the Great Walls of the Caminus mountain range, and the ancient roads that crisscross the two great continents in varying states of disrepair.
However, the Shivasii – or at least those in exile – cannot justify this historical interpretation with the evidence at hand. How, then, can a species who claims to have held dominance over a world, now reside on a small chain of islands?
Most Shivasii would claim it was the will of the shek’va, or the punishment of shek’cre (interpretations vary) and that would be enough for most Shivasii.
Evidence from archaeological digs in Wod’s Crook, Solsis Hill, and the Barrow Terraces suggest a new theory of Shivasii origins. The “Slave Origin Theory,” postulated by Charlston Kenth, Lord Grenok, suggests that the Shivasii are in fact the first builders of Empire, but nothing more than that. They were, Lord Grenok claims, the well-bred, or well built, slaves of a yet unknown empire.
Lord Grenok supports this by pointing out the drive to perfection in Shivasii culture and religion, which he links to a need for the perfect slave in construction. It also explains, he claims, why the Shivasii don’t have colonies across the two continents.
Whatever the true history is, many aspects will remain shrouded in mystery, either due to the xenophobia of Shivasii, or due to the lack of empirical evidence from current scientific study.
The Name is the Thing
Many bloggers, editors, writers, and critics have said this over the years, and it probably always needs to be emphasised every so often, or we’ll forget the lesson.
You must walk a very fine line when naming characters, places, things, and even ideas, especially in the different genres of speculative fiction. At its core, it is actually rather counter intuitive. We create a dazzling sentient species that communicates verbally with our human characters. This species is non-human to its core, its tongue can’t pronounce certain sounds, and its civilisation’s evolution over five hundred thousand years has developed a language entirely extra-terrestrial.
Deep down, in the spirit of creativity (even more perhaps, in the spirit of pseudo-realism) we want these aliens to have names like Xxxyz’la or Qho’kree’tik’lana, or even be so bold as to add some very odd phonetics and use a name like !Klagtagranze (the exclamation mark represents a tongue cluck). These are certainly very alien names, and yes they invoke the foreign, the strange, and the “final frontier.” But are they right for literature?
Like so many questions about writing, the answer is yes, and the answer is also no. As I said earlier, names like those above break the suspension of disbelief (that is, an engrossing story is capable of making us believe in the unbelievable, and names like those break the mystery). The imagination is an amazingly fragile thing, when we have to consciously think about the words we are reading, we stop being immersed in the fiction, we literally resurface from the vast lake of an imaginary world and we lose or tenuous connection to the surreal.
Constantly using names that stretch the limits of the English language will result in an equally constant resurfacing of the reader’s conscious mind. As a result, the reader is constantly torn away from an otherwise relaxing piece of fiction (imagine a 56k modem trying to play an online video game, these big names are just like the constant disconnects one would be forced to endure).
On the other hand, the “occasional” disconnect from the fictional world doesn’t really hurt the overall suspension of disbelief. If you as the writer (and therefore the GOD of your universe, Lord and Master of all things in creation) want to use a monstrous name like !Dröwginexxiak, you should feel free to use it sparingly and be prepared to have a handy (and lets face it, clever) nickname.
Let us assume that !Dröwginexxiak is part of an extra-terrestrial race of sentients. They are tall, very creative, and entirely anarchistic. Since the crew of rough and tumbled space pirates he’s crewing with just can’t stand to try and say his name, they’ve decided to shorten it to Draw, because the beginning of his name sounds like Draw, and because he spends most of his booty and spare time on artistic supplies and sketching respectively. Now if you use his real name (you know, that big long one that starts with a cluck) every so often, it will reinforce how alien Draw really is rather than just making the reader cross-eyed trying to pronounce the name.
While my example has been about character/creature names, the logic still works for anything. The Planet Quiigiiwiggifier (it’s the worst possible name I could come up with) will just scare off your readers and fast.
I’d also like to mention a couple of tricks worth remembering for naming your characters and all things in your stories without creating a suspension of disbelief and still sounding unique.
The first trick, a rather popular one actually, is to use common names and words for things they don’t normally apply to (in a military sense, these are thought of as call signs). This trick doesn’t work for everything, for example you can’t call the holiest of holy sites on the world Belinta IX just Steve. You can, however, call your rough and tumble commando Fixer (this is an example taken from Star Wars, along with his battle brothers Sev, Niner, and Boss. They don’t have other names). You’re pretty redhead barmaid turned adventurer can be called Blaze. Common words oddly used don’t often suspend disbelief but can be just strange enough to represent the fiction of the universe you have created.
The second trick, and one I am a big fan of, is the use of “root” languages. What do I mean by “root languages” you ask? English (since my entire body of work is English) is rooted in the Indo-European Language Tree, and is heavily influenced by Germanic and Latin (or Romance) languages, as well as some Gaelic. So, using these languages can be a useful way to create odd and unique names without suspending disbelief. I say this because, while foreign, these languages possess recognisable roots and components that are not outside the realm of comprehension in one’s subconscious, that means you never have to really “Think” about the name.
Take for example the name George. You could, if you were so inclined, name your character Jorge without much o a dilemma. Little “Easter eggs” can come up from this method, like the alien god Dios (google it if you don’t get that joke) or the Deus Xe Cult of the Planet Po (again, I’d suggest you google it). These two examples are Spanish and Latin/Italian respectively, and not entirely outside one’s understanding.
Hopefully this helps you with your monstrous names and preposterously alien places.
NAMES NEED TO BE EASY TO READ OR YOU WILL BREAK THE SUSPENSION OF DISBELIEF!
You must walk a very fine line when naming characters, places, things, and even ideas, especially in the different genres of speculative fiction. At its core, it is actually rather counter intuitive. We create a dazzling sentient species that communicates verbally with our human characters. This species is non-human to its core, its tongue can’t pronounce certain sounds, and its civilisation’s evolution over five hundred thousand years has developed a language entirely extra-terrestrial.
Deep down, in the spirit of creativity (even more perhaps, in the spirit of pseudo-realism) we want these aliens to have names like Xxxyz’la or Qho’kree’tik’lana, or even be so bold as to add some very odd phonetics and use a name like !Klagtagranze (the exclamation mark represents a tongue cluck). These are certainly very alien names, and yes they invoke the foreign, the strange, and the “final frontier.” But are they right for literature?
Like so many questions about writing, the answer is yes, and the answer is also no. As I said earlier, names like those above break the suspension of disbelief (that is, an engrossing story is capable of making us believe in the unbelievable, and names like those break the mystery). The imagination is an amazingly fragile thing, when we have to consciously think about the words we are reading, we stop being immersed in the fiction, we literally resurface from the vast lake of an imaginary world and we lose or tenuous connection to the surreal.
Constantly using names that stretch the limits of the English language will result in an equally constant resurfacing of the reader’s conscious mind. As a result, the reader is constantly torn away from an otherwise relaxing piece of fiction (imagine a 56k modem trying to play an online video game, these big names are just like the constant disconnects one would be forced to endure).
On the other hand, the “occasional” disconnect from the fictional world doesn’t really hurt the overall suspension of disbelief. If you as the writer (and therefore the GOD of your universe, Lord and Master of all things in creation) want to use a monstrous name like !Dröwginexxiak, you should feel free to use it sparingly and be prepared to have a handy (and lets face it, clever) nickname.
Let us assume that !Dröwginexxiak is part of an extra-terrestrial race of sentients. They are tall, very creative, and entirely anarchistic. Since the crew of rough and tumbled space pirates he’s crewing with just can’t stand to try and say his name, they’ve decided to shorten it to Draw, because the beginning of his name sounds like Draw, and because he spends most of his booty and spare time on artistic supplies and sketching respectively. Now if you use his real name (you know, that big long one that starts with a cluck) every so often, it will reinforce how alien Draw really is rather than just making the reader cross-eyed trying to pronounce the name.
While my example has been about character/creature names, the logic still works for anything. The Planet Quiigiiwiggifier (it’s the worst possible name I could come up with) will just scare off your readers and fast.
I’d also like to mention a couple of tricks worth remembering for naming your characters and all things in your stories without creating a suspension of disbelief and still sounding unique.
The first trick, a rather popular one actually, is to use common names and words for things they don’t normally apply to (in a military sense, these are thought of as call signs). This trick doesn’t work for everything, for example you can’t call the holiest of holy sites on the world Belinta IX just Steve. You can, however, call your rough and tumble commando Fixer (this is an example taken from Star Wars, along with his battle brothers Sev, Niner, and Boss. They don’t have other names). You’re pretty redhead barmaid turned adventurer can be called Blaze. Common words oddly used don’t often suspend disbelief but can be just strange enough to represent the fiction of the universe you have created.
The second trick, and one I am a big fan of, is the use of “root” languages. What do I mean by “root languages” you ask? English (since my entire body of work is English) is rooted in the Indo-European Language Tree, and is heavily influenced by Germanic and Latin (or Romance) languages, as well as some Gaelic. So, using these languages can be a useful way to create odd and unique names without suspending disbelief. I say this because, while foreign, these languages possess recognisable roots and components that are not outside the realm of comprehension in one’s subconscious, that means you never have to really “Think” about the name.
Take for example the name George. You could, if you were so inclined, name your character Jorge without much o a dilemma. Little “Easter eggs” can come up from this method, like the alien god Dios (google it if you don’t get that joke) or the Deus Xe Cult of the Planet Po (again, I’d suggest you google it). These two examples are Spanish and Latin/Italian respectively, and not entirely outside one’s understanding.
Hopefully this helps you with your monstrous names and preposterously alien places.
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