Andrew Hunter's Blog
March 5, 2025
Brothers of Flame
A little song I wrote for the dragon riders of Chadir.
June 24, 2024
The Banal
The Creation and Role of the Banal: The Dragons’ Secret Weapons
In the dark world “TheSongreaver’s Tale,” the enigmatic race known as the Banal, or“Manlings” as termed by their dragon creators, play a crucial role inthe ancient conflict between dragons and humans. These beings, meticulouslycrafted by the dragons, serve as spies and infiltrators, blurring the linesbetween ally and enemy in a world fraught with deception and magic.
The Genesis of the Banal
The Banal wereconceived in the minds of ancient dragons who sought to turn the tide of theirwar against humanity. Recognizing the need for subtlety and infiltration, thedragons embarked on a project to create beings that could seamlessly blend intohuman society. These creations were not merely imitations of humans but wereendowed with unique abilities that made them perfect for espionage.
The Craft of Creation
The dragons, mastersof forging and shaping life itself, used their songs of creation to call theBanal into existence. Each Banal was shaped from the very elements of theearth, infused with dragonsong to grant them enhanced abilities and longevity.This process imbued them with a semblance of humanity, enough to passundetected among human populations, yet retained enough dragon essence toensure unwavering loyalty to their creators.
Features and Abilities
Banal are designedto be nearly indistinguishable from humans. Their appearance, mannerisms, andeven their ability to mimic human emotions are crafted to perfection. However,their dragon-forged hearts and blood grant them several advantages:
Longevity and Resilience: Banal possess lifespans far exceeding that of ordinary humans, along with enhanced physical resilience.Adaptive Physiology: They can endure extreme conditions and recover from injuries that would be fatal to humans. Mental Conditioning: Dragons imbued the Banal with a powerful form of mental conditioning, ensuring their loyalty and ability to carry out complex espionage tasks without succumbing to human weaknesses.Memory Erasure: One of the most unique and unsettling abilities of the Banal is their power to erase themselves from others’ memories. This strange capability allows them to hide their existence and actions, making it nearly impossible for anyone to recall their presence after an encounter. This ensures their missions remain covert and their identities concealed.Role as Spies
The primary purposeof the Banal is to serve as spies within human society. Their missions arevaried and complex, ranging from gathering intelligence to sowing discord amonghuman factions. The Banal’s ability to blend in, coupled with their loyalty to thedragons, makes them invaluable assets in the war against humanity.
Infiltration: Banal are placed within key positions in human cities and organizations, allowing them to gather crucial intelligence and relay it back to their dragon masters.Manipulation: They are skilled manipulators, capable of influencing human decisions and actions to favor the dragons’ strategies.Sabotage: When necessary, Banal can carry out acts of sabotage, disrupting human plans and operations from within.The Inner Conflict
Despite theircreation and conditioning, some Banal experience a profound inner conflict. Tornbetween their dragon-forged loyalty and the human emotions they were designedto mimic, they face a poignant battle between duty and desire.
This internalturmoil highlights the complexities of the Banal’s existence. Created to beperfect spies, they are nonetheless capable of developing genuine feelings andattachments, leading to moments of betrayal and rebellion against theircreators.
Conclusion
The Banal, orManlings, are a testament to the dragons’ ingenuity and strategic prowess in“The Songreaver’s Tale.” Their creation and use as spies underscorethe lengths to which the dragons will go to achieve their aims. As beingscaught between two worlds, the Banal’s existence raises intriguing questionsabout loyalty, identity, and the true cost of war.
Discover More in“The Songreaver’s Tale” Series
Sneak deeper into the world of “The Songreaver’s Tale” series by Andrew Hunter. Join Garrett and his crew of strange companions on their quest through the haunted streets of Wythr, where few things are as simple as they seem.
June 21, 2024
The River Naga of Neshat
The River Naga of Neshat: Guardians of the Jungle Waters
In the heart ofRhaema lies the lush, untamed wilderness of Neshat, where the River Naga, oftenreferred to as the Children of the Waters, hold sway. These enigmatic beings,with their serpentine grace and profound connection to the great river, areintegral to the captivating world of “Deepwater’s Daughter.” Let’s explorethe mysteries and marvels of the River Naga and their vibrant existence in thejungles of Neshat.
Life by the Riverbanks
The River Naga ofNeshat are beautifully adapted to their watery habitat. Their elongated,serpentine bodies allow them to navigate the river currents with effortless grace.Their scales, shimmering in various hues of green, blue, and copper, reflectthe ever-changing moods of the river, providing both camouflage and anawe-inspiring sight for those fortunate enough to glimpse them.
These Naga are notmere inhabitants of the river; they are its guardians and caretakers. Theirlives are deeply intertwined with the health and vitality of the waterways.From a young age, River Naga learn to understand the river’s rhythms, its ebbsand flows, and the myriad creatures that call it home. This intimate knowledgegrants them unparalleled skills in healing and medicine, as they harness theriver’s bounty to create potent remedies and elixirs.
Culture and Traditions
The River Naga’sculture is as rich and dynamic as the river itself. They live in close-knitcommunities along the riverbanks, where they build their homes from naturalmaterials, seamlessly blending with the jungle surroundings. These homes areoften adorned with intricate carvings and woven decorations that tell thestories of their ancestors and their symbiotic relationship with the river.
Rituals andceremonies play a significant role in their lives, celebrating everything fromthe changing seasons to important life events. These ceremonies are vibrant andmusical, featuring songs and dances that echo the sounds of the jungle and theflowing river. Through these rituals, the River Naga honor the River Spirit andseek its blessings for prosperity and health.
Challenges and Conflicts
Despite theirpeaceful existence, the River Naga face numerous challenges. The jungles ofNeshat are teeming with dangers, from predatory creatures to territorialdisputes with other Naga tribes and species. These conflicts are often rootedin misunderstandings and the struggle for resources, reflecting the complexsocial dynamics within the Naga world. The River Naga must constantly defendtheir territories and maintain the delicate balance of their ecosystem.
The Naga are theliving embodiment of the river’s power and mystery. Their deep connection tothe water, their healing abilities, and their rich cultural traditions makethem a fascinating and integral part of the world of “Deepwater’sDaughter.”
As guardians of thejungle waters, the River Naga remind us of the importance of harmony withnature and the enduring bond between life and the environment.
Dive Into the World of Rhaema
If the mysticalallure of the River Naga has captured your imagination, then it’s time toembark on an unforgettable journey through the lush jungles of Neshat andbeyond. “Deepwater’s Daughter” is more than just a story—it’s aportal to a world brimming with magic, adventure, and new friendships.
Join Ysara and hercompanions as they journey to a fabled island in the sky, uncover ancientsecrets, and forge bonds that that will decide the destinies of friends and foealike. Discover the vibrant culture and enduring spirit of the Naga.
Ready to dive deeper? Grab your copy of “Deepwater’s Daughter” today and let the river’s current carry you into an enchanting adventure you’ll never forget.
June 20, 2024
The Twilight City of Wythr
Wythr: The Twilight Capital of Gloar
Nestled between therugged wastes and the restless sea lies the city of Wythr, the capital ofGloar, a place where shadows dance eternally beneath a perpetually overcastsky. This enigmatic city, with its dark stone architecture and eerie ambiance,has become a symbol of resilience and mystery, drawing both admiration and fearfrom those who call it home.
A City Born of Magic and Conflict
Wythr’s history isas tumultuous as the swirling mists that perpetually cloak its streets.Originally a bastion of the Faefolk, the city was wrested from their grasp byBrahnek Spellbreaker, a legendary figure who discovered the Word of Negation.This powerful word, one of the seven First Words given by the Dragon Queen tothe dragons, allowed Brahnek to unmake the magic wards of the elves and seizecontrol of the city. The gardens turned gray, and the sun ceased to shine uponWythr from the moment he entered its gates.
The Undead Army
As the capital ofGloar, Wythr is not merely the seat of political power but also a strongholdfor the necromancers who command legions of the undead. The brotherhood ofnecromancers has forged an uneasy truce with the sisters of the death goddessMauravant, united in their hatred of the followers of the god Malleatus,ancient foe of the dark goddess.
The Undercity of Marrowvyn
Beneath the darkenedstreets of Wythr lies Marrowvyn, a subterranean refuge for the city’s ghoulpopulation. This hidden town, with its crumbling ruins and eerie ambiance,serves as a sanctuary and a meeting place for ghouls. It is here that theghouls gather in times of crisis, their loyalty to one another unwaveringdespite the dangers that lurk in the shadows.
The Tomb-City and Its Guardians
Wythr’s depths holdsecrets that few dare to uncover. Ancient crypts like the Chamber of Kings,where the city’s dead rulers are interred, are rumored to be guarded byterrifying supernatural entities. Such guardians protect the resting places ofthe city’s dead, including Brahnek, the first human king of Wythr. The tombsthemselves are perilous, with tales of explorers meeting their end within theircold walls.
A Place of Perpetual Twilight
Life in Wythr ismarked by its eternal twilight, a constant reminder of the city’s unique placein the world. The gray skies and dim light create an atmosphere of somberbeauty, where the past and present intertwine. This twilight, coupled with thecity’s rich history and the ever-present threat of danger, makes Wythr a placeof both enchantment and dread.
Wythr stands as atestament to the resilience and determination of its inhabitants, both livingand undead. Its dark allure continues to captivate those who seek to uncoverits mysteries, promising adventure and danger in equal measure. For those braveenough to enter its gates, Wythr offers a glimpse into a world where magic,history, and the supernatural coexist in a delicate balance.
The Songreaver’s world awaits
Slip into the shadows and discover the secrets of Wythr and beyond—pick up The Songreaver’s Tale series today and embark on an unforgettable journey through a world where magic, mystery, and adventure await at every turn.
July 7, 2023
Sword of the Spellbreaker Audiobook now available!
Book 5 of the Songreaver’s Tale is now available as an audiobook!
March 25, 2022
The Quickening Gift
The final chapter of the Songreaver’s Tale has finally arrived!
TheSongreaver is gone.
The northburns as the red god rises from his slumber, seeking vengeance on the servantsof the death goddess. Far to the south, the city of vampires plunges into chaosas Marla desperately tries to save what she can of the society Garrett hasdestroyed.
Trappedbetween the forces of ancient gods and dragons, Garrett’s friends struggle to survivethe cataclysm that threatens to engulf their world.
And Garrett finally gets a chance to learn just how all those zombies he animated felt.
Book 9 is now available at the following links:
The Frostwoven Crown Audiobook is Live!
The audiobook version of Book Four is now live! Heath Allyn once again did a fantastic job of bringing Garrett’s world to life, and I hope you enjoy it as much as I did!
You can find it on Amazon now HERE!
September 14, 2020
The Breaking Word
It’s finally here!
Thank you all for your patience. Book eight of the Songreaver’s Tale is now available for purchase!
The
Songreaver is missing!
In the hour
of his greatest triumph, Garrett the necromancer found only despair. Now, he
has disappeared into the night with the ashen-skinned demon who wants him to destroy
the world. His friends must band together to bring him home again, before it is
too late to save whatever is left of the boy they all love.
The north has
risen to overthrow the iron-fisted rule of the Chadirian Empire, and rumors run
wild among the Fae that the Dragon Queen herself has returned. Ancient wolf spirits
stalk the shadows, and dead gods stir in their graves beneath smoldering
mountains.
The tapestry
of fate has begun to unravel, and Garrett still has a few strings to pull.
March 6, 2020
My latest book!
Greetings everyone!
I wanted to let you know that my latest e-book is now on Amazon and Smashwords!
This is a light-hearted short novel, following the adventures of a group of fae, exploring the jungles surrounding the River Neshat. It gives a little more insight into a part of the Songreaver’s world that we haven’t seen a lot of to date, and I hope you enjoy it as much as I did!
September 9, 2019
Book 8 Preview (Minor Spoilers!)
One kind reader asked me if I could possibly give an update on the progress of Book 8, and perhaps even provide a sneak peek of things to come.
So, Book 8 is still progressing, though somewhat slower than I had anticipated or hoped for. I really hope to have the first draft done in time for New Years, but the book is proving much more challenging than any of the previous installments in the Songreaver’s Tale.
Still, I’d like to share this little excerpt from the working draft.
Be warned, there are minor spoilers ahead!
Lampwicke released her grip on the mossy branch and dropped. She spread her wings, catching the air like a falling leaf, gliding as she fell. She thought of winter and ice and dead things under the snow, dimming her inner light to shadow. Her skin remained as dark as the Eigerwood itself. When she lighted on the broad leaf of a pitcher plant, it bowed beneath her weight, and cold trickles of dew ran across her fingers and toes to drip into the dark undergrowth of the forest floor.
The vampire’s head lifted, limned with moonlight, three trees away.
Cold fear seized the fairy’s tiny heart.
The vampire sniffed the air, not like a predator, catching the scent of game, but a long, sensual sigh, like a drunkard, savoring the first sip of a fine vintage.
Lampwicke clenched her teeth, and her skin began to glow with fiery rage.
The vampire’s eyes flashed with delight, and the cold blood in his laughter carried to her on the wind.
Two more shadows stalked into the moonlight behind him.
Lampwicke’s body flared like a living coal, and her wings roared in her ears as she shot skyward again.
The little fairy darted through the Eigerwood like a flaming arrow, lancing through worm-eaten leaves and dodging the spindly branches that reached like bony fingers from the trees. These trees muttered at her passing, in words half heard and less understood. Would they mourn the death of another child of the Song, or had they drunk too deeply of shadow to care?
The vampires moved like phantoms, two of them flanking her to either side, the first, still giggling like a self-made monster behind her. Too close.
She knew they would be upon her in a few more heartbeats, faster still, had they desired to end the chase sooner, but vampires loved to hunt. Her life depended on that one, awful fact.
She had learned to depend on it.
The vampire to her right managed half a scream before Bunda’s silvery jaws closed over his bloodstained lips. The vampire’s muffled cry ended quickly, replaced by the agonized shrieks of his companion to Lampwicke’s left. Garvulf liked to play with his food.
Lampwicke spun, mid-flight to face the giggling fool behind her. She wanted to see the look on his face.
The vampire squinted his eyes against the blazing gold light of Lampwicke’s triumph, his red lips twisted in confusion. Lampwicke rolled to the right as the vampire, blinded, ran, headlong into the tree in front of him.
The vampire’s startled whimper of pain brought a smile to the fairy’s lips as she watched him stagger and fumble at his bloody nose. His long black hair tangled in the mess, and he clawed it clear of his face as he stumbled and tried to regain his balance.
“Look up,” Lampwicke told him, though she knew he probably didn’t know a word of Fae. He’d never get the chance to learn her language now.
Morse fell on him from above like a meteor of silver light. Argent flames wreathed the white shaman’s fur as the slender ghoul drove his obsidian dagger downward, again and again.
Garvulf’s vampire finally stopped screaming, and Lampwicke settled atop a nearby fallen log. She draped her arms across a mushroom cap, breathing in its moldy scent as she caught her breath.
“Well done, Lampwicke! Well done!” Morse laughed, his high voice cracking with excitement. His checkered moon-runes sparkled like hoarfrost, giving his pale fur the look of a ghostly jester’s motley.
Lampwicke grinned at the lanky shaman and then laughed the manic laugh of one who had narrowly cheated death once again.
Garvulf stepped into Lampwicke’s golden light, wiping his lips with the blood-spattered white fur of his thick right forearm. His eyes still burned with the silver light of the kill, and his long, wolfen jaws hung open in a drunken leer.
“Only three,” Bunda said in her thick Northern accent. She stepped from the trees, her bi-colored eyes half-lidded with the shivery pleasure of a freshly devoured soul. She alone of the three bore a streak of dark fur that ran from just above her left eye, all the way down her back to her long, bushy tail.
“Only three of us,” Garvulf chuckled, “Lucky that way.”
“Four of us,” Morse corrected him. The shaman gave a grateful nod in the golden fairy’s direction.
Lampwicke grinned again.
“What do you say, little sister,” Bunda laughed, “are you ready to taste your first soul? There may be more of them next time!”
Lampwicke breathed deeply of the scent of the Eigerwood. Not her forest, but it would do. She shook her head. “I’m not hungry,” she answered.
Somewhere, far away, a direwolf howled. It’s long, mournful call drifted through the trees as though seeking its lost masters and knowing they would not answer back. Lampwicke thought she heard the Eigerwood laughing around her. The trees here had a cruel sort of humor. This was not her forest.
“They always leave one with the wolves,” Bunda said.
“Maybe more, these nights,” Garvulf added, his black lips curled into an eager grin.
“It would be a shame to break up the set!” Morse giggled in his boyish voice.
Lampwicke’s glow faltered as she took wing again, readying herself. “What do you want me to do?” she asked. She was not afraid of them anymore. If she kept telling herself that, someday, she might even believe it.
“You’ve done enough tonight, little sister,” Morse said with his moon-checkered smile, “Go on back to the nest… Tell the others that we’ll be back soon.”
Lampwicke smiled and nodded. Bunda winked her left eye, the greener of the pair, at Lampwicke and then disappeared into the forest with the other two ghouls close behind.
Lampwicke did not look down as she flew past the stained patch of ferns where the giggling vampire had fallen. Would he and his companions have drunk her life on the spot, or would they have bound her soul in fiery cords of magic and carried her captive back to their dark city? Never again, she shuddered. Morse had promised that to her. He had sworn it on his soul. He would never let the vampires take her alive.
Lampwicke sighed. A dull, weary, heartsickness crept into her body as she flew. No matter which direction she traveled, that city of living death lay before her. Her people would never be free until the vampires were gone, every last one of them. What hope did the White Pack have against that writhing nest of evil? What hope did the Fae have of helping the pack destroy it?
She flew higher now, settling on a branch to look up at the moon. Here, above the stifling whispers of the cankerous leaves, she could breathe again. The scent of tar-black sap and scabrous bark chilled her soul, but, within her heart, one bright memory smoldered on.
“When every cage is broken,” she whispered into the wind, “then I… then everyone can go home.”
