C.P.D. Harris's Blog, page 54

Teaser tuesday

Time for another teaser from Bloodlust: Red Glory.

Both Gladiatrices stood facing the crowd���s judgement.

Hummingblade was bruised and her body was covered in patches of black where the Frost had burnt her skin. She was bruised from several blows of the shield and her arm still bled from the cut that Diamond Frost had landed to end the fight.

Diamond Frost was bleeding from the wounds on her side and back as well as many smaller cuts from the Hurricane blade. The thrust into her chest in particular had been a telling blow, and it still bled freely. Hummingblade could tell that the Light-Elf was trying not to wilt from blood loss and fatigue. Would the audience notice?

Neither Gladiatrix spoke as they raised their weapons to salute the crowd.

Hummingblade closed her eyes while she waited for the verdict of the spectators. She knew Ravius was cheering. She could almost hear him. She wondered if Diamond Frost had people she loved cheering her as well.

Either way the crowd ruled, she was pleased with her performance. Diamond Frost was as skilled with the shield as she was with spells, having been able to weather the Hurricane Blade and pin the thrust to her side before it became lethal. She was proud to have stood against such a skilled adversary and remained standing.

One of the aspects of the arena that I wanted to explore further this time around was the role of the crowd. How easy is it for a Gladiator to salute the person they were just fighting, treating it like the handshake at the end of a hockey match all for the sake of propriety?

Scarmaker took a deep breath. Oh, she was a cunning one. He turned to the announcer���s box, signalling his desire to make a declaration. Gloria Bella Maxima advanced a step toward him, bright and bold, but he did not flinch. He knew the rules well enough.

���I declare Ut Nex!��� said Scarmaker.

���Coward,��� muttered Gloria Bella Maxima.

���Gloria Bella Maxima, do you accept Ut Nex?��� asked Quintus diKrass. The audience was deathly silent.

Gloria Bella Maxima turned to the audience.

���WHAT SAY YOU?��� shouted the Gladiatrix. ���SHALL WE HONOUR THIS COWARD?���

Some of the Gladiators actively play the crowd in Red Glory, trying to ensure that they have an advantage in a show of thumbs or even other goals. The fury and fervour of the crowd actively help and hinders the various Gladiators, while behind the scenes various players work to ensure that they can offer their support in the form of filling the seats with partisans.

Darius roared Fiona���s name as the Gladiatrix finished her salute, his voice one with the rowdy crowd. Rose stood beside him, on her seat, brandishing her swords and shouting at the top of her lungs. His daughter���s expression was a mask of ferocious elation, a mirror of his own. It filled his heart with joy to share such a special moment with his child.

Both were flush with triumph as they left the arena, spilling out into the great Parade Ground amidst a sea of red. Fiona���s fans and other Red Faction partisans, cheering, laughing, and revelling in the wake of their win. Darius picked up Rose, and set her on his shoulders. She was too busy enjoying herself to take this action as an affront to her pre-teen dignity. It was good day. No, a great day.

Here and there Darius saw groups or individuals with dour faces, hurrying away from the crowds. These were the fans of The Weird, no doubt. Darius felt a momentary sadness for them, but their fighter never really stood a chance against a Gladiatrix of Fiona���s calibre. Their hopes had always been in vain.

Darius carried Rose all the way back to their little house, ignoring the ache in his shoulders, laughing and cheering all the way.

Of course, in the end the fans are there for the spectacle and the ritual. The character of Rose, a young fan, is meant to make the reader question the morality of the games, but not in a heavy-handed fashion.��Darius is an honest fan of the games and a good family man, after all.

In the end Bloodlust: Red Glory is a book about a grand event, and the crowd are key��participants as well as witnesses in the ceremony.��In this way it mirrors similar events in the modern age, from superbowls and the Olympics to elections and protests in that the participation of the people is key. Of course, that also means that the people bear responsibility…

Humour vs Fanaticism and Honour Culture in Fantasy Fiction

Ultimately, all fanatics are the enemies of knowledge as part of the public good.

The Charlie Hebdo attacks, ��got me thinking about similar episodes in history and then in Fantasy and Fiction. Aside from their real world implications, which while��very interesting are beyond the scope of this blog, it demonstrates a stark pattern of behaviour among fanatics.

Killing a person for mocking one’s beliefs is profoundly ridiculous, and all the more appalling because of that. Most people, no matter how faithful or fierce will not engage in such a barbaric act. The use of the word barbaric is deliberate in this case: honour killings in the name of faith, religious or otherwise, are an ugly artifact of the past. If they are allowed to continue and spread��then we will return to the barbarity of totalitarianism or even the dark ages.

Faith killings, like the Charlie Hebdo attacks, are a fanatics attempt to uphold the honour of the system that they have dedicated themselves to. They see any affront to their beliefs as something that needs to be avenged. Often this mindset seems strange to rational people, who can have their most deeply held beliefs insulted and challenged on a daily basis without resorting to violence. However, the fanatic is acting from an irrational impulse, usually fear. They fear that if mockery strips the object of their belief of its dignity then all of their work and all of their devotion will be for nothing. A fanatic puts all of his stock in that one belief, and if that belief is devalued in the marketplace of ideas then so is he. The fanatic will not admit to this fear, event to himself, but it is rooted at the core of his devotion. Someone who is secure in their beliefs does not need to kill for them, and will not unless they are directly threatened, which is never the case when mockery and insults are the supposed threat.

In the arena of fiction, fanatics make for interesting villains. The believe that they are right, and do not question the object of their faith. Within the confines of their system, the fanatic is often more moral than the non-fanatic (although this is not always the case). They are not one dimensional, despite how they may seem on the news. They will even deny that they are fanatics, often in a well reasoned fashion, up to a point. (Perhaps I am a fanatical believer in free speech and democracy? would I know?)

Regardless, fanaticism of any sort is an excellent source of villainy for more Epic forms fantasy fiction. A relatively harmless��action, like a cartoon, can set off a fanatical reaction where honour can only be restored through bloodshed. In other posts I have detailed types of fanaticism, from religious to economic. It is my belief that Fanaticism can carry over to belief in any system. Pastoral fantasy tends to use fanatics in the same way that it uses orcs — disposable fodder for action scenes and as a contrast to make the hero look good. (see below for grimdark) However, good Fantasy thrives on exploring the beliefs and systems beyond those of the protagonist. In modern fantasy we prefer villains that have some nuance and revel in the justifications for their actions.

Here are a few examples of interesting Fanatics that could appear in Fantasy Fiction

The Rathamen of the Kingdom of Yeer believe in keeping their bodies pure. Contact with outsiders is forbidden until they are ritually purified, and touching a Rathaman is considered a deadly insult. Fanatical Rathamen blame outsiders for all illness and will kill them without provocation at the slightest sign of disease. They also believe that illness among their own kind is a sign of weakness and that the infirm and ill should be shunned. This all stems from a belief that arose during a plague long ago.
The Dwarves of Hunglelund believe in trade. Trade is both good and natural. They will use their armies to ensure that trade happens freely and unfettered, no matter what the cost. Aggressively opening up new markets is for the betterment of all!
The Scrolls of Tharn the Prophet state that the mineral pools of Tradir are sacred and can cure all the ills of the faithful. Unfortunately overuse has polluted the pools. Sadly however, the prophet stated that the pools are sacred, which means to question the sanctity of the pools is to say that the Prophet is fallible. The illnesses cause by this cycle are creating an imbalance in the religion.

More interesting, however, is that the protagonist need not be someone we would normally find heroic when confronting fanaticism. Political cartoonists are not especially��admired in normal society, and are certainly far below policemen, soldiers, and first responders in normal estimations of courage. Yet, when fanaticism is at work, and even a cartoon is considered a grave insult that must be avenged then the creators and critics of culture are often front and centre in the conflict. This can make for excellent fiction. Here are a few examples:

The God-King is considered infallible and perfect. A simple cobbler discovers that his feet are different sizes, which is impossible if he is divine, setting off a chain of events that shakes the foundations of the empire.
A scientists using a primitive microscope discovers that the pools of Tharn contain nasty little critters that are causing illness and corruption. Using his knowledge, he successfully treats the ill. This creates a schism as some claim that he does evil work, while others begin to question the pools, and still others seek to purify the people by infecting them with the corruption from the pools.
The Book of Ibb is the only true book. All other books, even those not written by the faithful of Ibb, are full of false knowledge. BURN THE LIBRARIES! (Sorry Alexandria)

Obviously these are simplistic concepts, but they are��examples��seeds that can be��grown into fully fleshed out conflicts for an interesting series. The best fanatical beliefs showcase the unusual nature of the world that the author has created or emphasize the qualities of those who oppose them.

The fanatic can also be a hero, however, particularly in Grimdark fiction. I am minded here of the noble space marines, who are shielded from the shit storm of corruption in the 40k universe by their faith in humanity and the Imeperium. Of course, grimdark takes a dim view of heroes to begin with ;)

The Shadow Wolf Sagas: Blade Breaker 1.49

Once again it is time for some Shadow Wolf. Let’s get right to the heart of the matter.

Here is a link to the first post.

Here is a link to last week’s post, in case you want to refresh.

Here is a link to the guide.

“One more step fool, and she dies!”

As the words left his lips the arbalest, an enormous weapon that had more in common with a ballista than a crossbow, twanged. A bolt leapt at Lord Torvul. ��Madame Glorianna’s blackened eyes were full of hopeless fear as they met mine across room.��My heart wrenched.

A wave of force exploded from Torvul. The missile crashed against this invisible barrier, crumpling. The Devout warlord turned toward where the missile sprang from, raising his hand and calling forth another wave of force. This one crashed into the tunnel entrance, slamming a door shut. His eyes never left my face, his sword resting against Gloriana’s throat. A drop of blood welled beneath the blade, running down her throat.

“Now, back out of the room,” said Torvul, a grin spreading over his cadaverous face. “This is over.”

I knew that I could not let him complete his task. Even a small band of Devout roving through the city had��caused extraordinary damage, more was not an option. And yet I could not bring myself to move forward and kill the only woman who had seen value in an old, broken exile.

Behind me the melee��still raged. I could hear grunts and curses, grinding metal and the groans of the wounded. Murith and Git were out of commission. Sildus was nowhere to be found. I was out of options. I wondered how to stall.

I held out my weapons in a supplicating gesture. Torvul’s smile widened.

“Drop them,” he said.

“No,” said Madame Glorianna.

My eyes were drawn to hers. Her gaze was crystal clear despite the damage, despite the dark. She looked at me with the terrible unflinching dignity and a chill ran down my spine as I realized her intent. She jerked in Torvul’s arms. A curtain of crimson ran from the sword. The light left her eyes as the Devout lord began to register what happened. As he looked up, smile wiped from his face, I was already moving toward him. I saw a flicker in the shadows.

I howled, full of rage and grief. Torvul snarled and a wave of force slammed into me. I staggered as��if i’d been��kicked by��a warhorse, but anger lent me strength and I kept my feet. I growled and pushed forward. The second wave of forced bloodied my face. I lunged toward Torvul, eyes locked on his, willing myself forward. He gritted his teeth.

The third wave of force sent me sprawling back as Sildus struck the Devout Lord from behind. A dagger plunged into Torvul’s back, sliding between the plates. His eyes went wide, but he whirled, surprisingly swift and caught Sildus’s next blow with an expert parry, surprising the assassin. Sildus ducked a swipe and dove back into the shadows as Torvul chased him with a jet of flame.

I rolled to my feet and pounced, stoking fury’s furnace with the image of Madame Glorianna’s last moment.

Teaser Tuesday: Cheers from Red Glory

This week for one of my last teasers for Bloodlust: Red Glory, I have put up a few of the cheers from the book.

Tolkien and Rothfuss have lovely poetry and music, while the Domains have sports cheers. As rock and roll is to Mozart, sports cheers are brazen and sentimental rather than artful. Still, one would not expect the crowds in an arena to shout anything else.

Here is the standard rallying cry of the Reds, familiar from my short story Bloodlust: The Great Games

���We���ll never wail! We���ll never sigh!

So raise the Red, our banner high!

We���ll never fail! We���ll never die!

Because we���re Red, fear our war-cry!���

Here is a personal chant for Fiona, one of the Gladiatrices who graces the book.

���Fiona

She���s gonna

Kill em dead

That���s our Red

Good on her

Fiona!���

A red faction call-out:

���Red, red, red!

Blue purebred,

Now he���s dead,

Gone and bled,

Got no head,

���cause we���re Red!���

Of course, even the dignified Blues have cheers:

Gloria, Gloria,

She���s the best, stomp the rest!

Bella, Bella, Bella,

She���s so hot, wins a lot!

Maxima, Maxima,

Shout her name, fear her flame!

I often feel cheesy when I write these and read them back, but cheers are meant to be like that for the most part, combining elements that are popular at the moment into a cohesive mocking, catchy whole.

Turn Based Games

I distinctly remember when reviewers and biz-dev types declared that turn based games were dead. It was some��time after��the first XBOX (2001) was released, since I recall reading an article in a console magazine (lol) where a toque wearing, xtreme! t-shirt, attitude up front, “games journalist” was offended that a turn based game had appeared on his new age console.

Of course, large western game developers had started moving away from turn based games long before that. I remember how x-com apocalypse ��(1997) included both turn based and real time combat modes, which were radically divergent to the point where it was desirable for me to fight certain foes and missions in one mode and switch to others when I wanted to use something else. XCOM, of course, was a banner bearer for turn based games and considered a hot IP at the time, worthy of rescue.

Why would a hot turn based IP be in need of rescue you might ask? Well marketers, producers, and bad game theorists decided at some point that the only reason they were making turn based games were purely technical. In this view they had overcome the limitation that turn based systems presented so why not discard them? After all, wasn’t real time strategy exclusively better?

Of course, turn based gaming has little to do with technical limitations and has enjoyed a great resurgence in both big studio��and indie development. Civ games remained popular and are now a mainstay of steam, gog, and other PC platforms. Developers outside of North America never really turned up their nose at turn based games either, and I remember eagerly playing games like Disgaea to get my fix.

The return of XCOM (resurrected by Firaxis, who also make Civ) to wide critical acclaim finally put the issue to rest. Now, long after the technological hurdles have been overcome even the most obtuse biz-dev type can see that there is a market for turn based games.

Here are five reasons that I enjoy turn based games

Get Up And Go: true turn based games advance entirely at the player’s discretion. If something arises requiring your attention you don’t even need to pause the game to go away from the game. As someone whose game time is frequently interrupted by real life, and sudden inspirations, I can really appreciate this aspect. I also find that since I control game-flow that turn based games are easier to get back into after a pause. This dovetails nicely with my next point.
Controlled Pacing: In a good turn based game the designer will control the flow so that the player is presented with��interesting choices each turn. This leads to a much more consistent level of play. In XCOM you know you that if you are in a mission there are aliens about and that you should be wary, moving in cover, looking for the foe, etc. Ideally a turn based game could skip all the boring parts, just getting to the meat of the game. The upcoming Duelyst game looks��like a good example, concentrating on creating a great battle experience above all else.
Options: Turn based games revolve around choices. If all a unit can do is move and attack in one fashion then the game will be very dull indeed. Instead most games give players a variety of choices including different attack types, alternate fire modes, grenade types, and reaction fire in XCOM or a plethora of magical abilities and skills in fantasy games like FF Tactics (JP up!).
Control: Turn based games allow a player to control diverse multiple units with less time pressure than other systems. Achieving the same level of micro-management in other games is considered a skill.
Mental Challenge: The real reason to play turn based games on the computer is the same reason that chess, go, and similar games remain popular. They provide the player with a mental challenge in the same way that few other game types can. Without time pressure or twitch factor turn based games have to provide the player with interesting choices to entertain them. Considering these choices, with the added luxury of control of the time flow of the game allows the player to really stretch their mental muscles, if the game is any good. Consequently when I am playing a turn based game I find myself thinking about it when I am away from the playing field more often. This goes for board games, and tabletop RPGS/minis games as well.

When all you are left with is choices, better make them interesting!

The Shadow Wolf Sagas: Blade Breaker 1.48

The wind is howling and the snow is whirling, what better time for some Shadow Wolf?

This is my weekly serial arc. Follow this link for the first post.

Want to re-read last week’s? Here you go.

And finally, a helpful guide.

“Torvul!” I shouted, my words filling the chamber and echoing down the myriad tunnels leading from it.

The Devout leader turned, slowly, as if he almost could not be bothered with us. Cadaverously thin, his armour seemed to big��for him, almost comical if not for his mystic puissance. His deep set eyes shone as he regarded us.

“Ragnar, is it?” Torvul��began, lips twisting arrogantly. “First, you will address me as Lord Torvul. Second, you–“

My eyes just registered a metallic glint flit through the torchlight, like a water falling in the dark. Torvul staggered and fire blossomed around his head.

For a moment, no one moved. Then, as Torvul began to topple, Thyra’s spear took a big Devout warrior in the chest, pushing him back into his fellows. Harald Magnison roared and strode forward. The room erupted as bodies crashed into each other, followed by shouts and screams, and the sound of metal on metal.

One of the would-be Devout charged me, swinging a vicious looking sword. I caught the blade with my axe-blade, using the momentum of his own swing to pull him off balance and turn him. Then I drove the backspike into his skull and snarled as another threw himself at me. All along the line we clashed. With Thyra and Renoit in the front we were winning, but the Devout had numbers.

Worse yet, I had a feeling that��Torvul was still alive. Murith had used a munition that would reduce a mere mortal to burning chunks, but Torvul was ascended and one of the Devout to boot.��I was still smarting from our last encounter and wanted to make sure to kill him before he could recover. Honourable? likely not, but very sensible.

One of the true Devout, a big woman clad heat to toe in shining steel fell back, blood leaking,��as Renoit’s thin blade slid through a tiny gap between her heaume and gorget. Harald, bleeding from several wounds, bellowed and shouldered into her. This created a gap in the scrum, and I leapt.

One of the Devout managed to catch me with a blade as a rammed my way through them. I let the blow turn me, feeling the blade bite into my flesh, but little pain. That is part of being Twiceborn, pain, physical pain at least, is as nothing. I spun and slammed my hammer into the man, sending him reeling back into the melee.

As I turned and continued to run, I saw Torvul rising. Desperation lent me swiftness as I charged, leaping over a broken pillar, all the while expecting Torvul to invoke some fell magic and send me flying. Instead, he brought me to a halt by grabbing Madame Glorianna battered form and pulling her to him like a shield.

“One more step fool, and she dies!” Torvul snarled.

Before I could respond I heard the distinctive sound of an arbalest string as Murith fired again.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Tuesday Teaser

Tis Tuesday and time for a little bit from my soon to be released novel, Bloodlust: Red Glory

The names of the Gladiators who made it past the qualifying round were posted outside the Grand Arena on the last day of the qualifying round, along with their assigned opponents. Those names carved into an enormous stone tablet with elemental magic, were hidden by a gold curtain that would drop at midnight.

The Grand Parade square outside the arena hosted a large number of fanatical fans waiting to see if their favourite made it through the rounds, as well as those who wanted to secure tickets for interesting match-ups. They were served by food stands, roving jugglers and joke-tellers, and other attractions. Blue Hornet was waiting with these, just one more face among thousands, save for Honey on his arm, and the Grey-Robe at his side. Without the mask, few fans would recognize him; he valued that cloak of anonymity.

By contrast, fighters like Gloria Bella Maxima and Fiona the Executioner each stood amidst their seas of supporters. Gloria Bella Maxima revelled in the attention, acting like a Queen of old, while Fiona had the walked among her fans chatting. Blue Hornet disapproved of both, he preferred to keep a distance from large groups of fans, but did not like the image of royalty that Gloria Bella Maxima and many other Blues cultivated.

At least Gloria Bella Maxima deigned to show up; Lord Peerless was nowhere to be seen.

The arena officials, including a tired looking Quintus diKrass, began the countdown. The chatter ceased.

���Five,���

���FOUR,��� the crowd joined in.

���THREE,���

���TWO,���

���ONE,���

As the curtain fell, Blue Hornet found his name, third on the list. His opponent would be Tamli the Bladebreaker. He knew that the veteran of the master���s circuit was an extremely under-rated opponent. He would have to be at his best to beat her, although it was likely he would win any show of thumbs. The fans preferred aggressive fighters, and his name was still fresh in the circuit.

Blue Hornet nearly laughed out loud when he saw who Lord Peerless was going to be facing.

Glorious Cover Teasers, fourth edition.

With the impending release of Bloodlust: Red Glory, it is time for a cover preview. This time I am organized enough to walk you through the process with a series of draft mockups, courtesy of Daniel Barclay.

I often like to represent the characters as icons on the covers. With Red Glory, having a larger cast of characters made that impossible (or rather, busy and ugly). On the other hand one way of looking at the book is that the central character is the Grand Championships. Following that line of thought the cover is made up of white sand, representing the fighting grounds and Golden Laurels, representing the coveted prize of the tournament.

I like the weight of the first option better. The Grand Championships dominate the lives of the people of the Domains and a heavier set of laurels conveys that better.

Dan��thought the background was too bland, so we decided to work on that next.

I really liked this one. The laurels streaming blood and staining the pristine sands. Quite an image, and highly appropriate for such a brutal event. We decided on��a bit more texture on the laurel and thinner blood streams. I asked for the blue binding to be changed to royal purple.

This is very close, but not quite there. Notice that Dan changed the Domains of the Chosen Tagline on the bottom to yellow so you can actually see it. Also of note are the filler bars on either side of –Red Glory–, which he added to kill whitespace.We decided to add a drop of blood and Dan added some special magic:

I like it. It is gloriously overstated: grand, vicious, and bloody, much like the Great Games themselves. Once again, my thanks go out to the talented Mr Barclay, who can take a simple concept and really make it stand out. Certainly beats trying to stand out with another cover of a dude in a cloak.

The Shadow Wolf Sagas: Blade Breaker 1.47

What better way to start off the new year than with a spot of writing? This is the Shadow Wolf Sagas, my weekly serial.

Want to start from the beginning? click this.

Want to re-read last week’s post? here you go, friend.

Need a guide to the world. I have your back.

I straddled the ladder and plunged into darkness. T’was not entirely reckless since I can see in the dark. Besides my blood was running hot, fury’s furnace stoked with images of Sapphire and Bjorn, humilated and murdered. Flashes of the��bodies of the members of the Doxies guild, run down and killed. All chased by visions of Madame Glorianna��meeting the same fate, or worse, at the hands of Lord Torvul and his brutes. The Devout were never kind to those who fell under their power. Rape and slavery were��the right of the strong in their twisted culture, barely even worth considering.

I hit the ground hard, pausing just long enough to spot the signs that Git and Renoit had left for us.

I owed Madame Glorianna a debt. When I first made my way to Myrrhn, I was reviled by my own people as an exile and yet still haunted by my people’s reputation among the elite of the city. The best employment I could find was guarding the doors at a run down brothel on the docks. At the time I saw it as dishonourable work, a kind of death for someone like me. I must admit that I let myself go, fitting in with the surroundings, foaming at the mouth a little. I spurned friendship, lashing out like a cornered animal. She saw value in the scraps of what I was. With her help I learned the ways of the city. I made friends and found my self-respect. Our relationship was never more than that of king and karl, but that was what I needed.

I rounded a corner, swift and angry, nearly blundering into the edge of Renoit’s blade. The swordsman looked at me and lowered his weapon slowly, raising a finger to his lips. Git was in the shadows beside him.

“Easy, wolf,” whispered��Git. “No more muttering from here on in. Sildas has gone ahead. Torvul and his men are a��hundred��paces that way. We followed Madame Gee’s trail here and then homed in on the sound of digging and the lantern-glow. They stopped the excavation a few minutes ago.”

I was unaware that I had been muttering and reigned in my anger. Sometimes I get carried away.

“Five and half minutes,” added Renoit, eyeing the edge of his blade in the dark. His eyes were like points of flame in the half light.

Murith and Thyra rounded the bend, the shadows of Harald Magnison and his kin filling the tunnel behind them.

“What’s the plan Ragnar?” asked Murith.

“You and Git will sneak into position,” I said. “Sildas and his proteges will be in the shadows by now. The rest of us will confront Torvul and his follower directly. I will try to parley before fighting. If either of you get a shot at Torvul, clear and deadly, take it. If not we fight.”

I saw the glint of Thyra’s teeth in the shadows.

We marched down the old tunnels under the sea. I was impressed that they were not flooded. Dwarven engineering. The presence of the Devout had scared away whatever things normally laired in this dank place, but the wolf in me made note of the strange scents as we progressed.

We were not quiet, but it took several minutes to reach the light, climbing through broken rooms and passing through a tunnel that was filled to the waist with ancient, brackish water.

Soon enough we found the devout. Their light filled a massive old chamber, vaulted ceiling held up by ornate pillars decorated with ancient stone leafwork. Ten fully armoured devout and as many as two dozen of their acolytes��faced us, ringing the entrance. They had the advantage of numbers and time and did not seem worried at all by our appearance. Across the room Lord Torvul stood hands running across and ancient stone arch, magic playing across his fingers. Madame Glorianna, clothes torn and mouth bloody was tied to an old brazier nearby. Her head sagged, but it snapped up as my voice filled the room.

“Torvul!” I shouted, and my words echoed in the deep.

Teaser Tuesday

Once again it is Tuesday and time for a teaser from my upcoming book, Bloodlust: Red Glory.

This is from the map section… (I left extra space so it does not look busy when I size it down, and to add stuff in other books)

The City of Krass

The Campus Martius: Gladiators begin their careers in this section of the capital. Think of it as a college campus, but with restricted access. The northern part of the Campus Martius has a series of free public arenas called The Pits.
The Campus Gladius: Young Gifted who choose to become Gladiators learn to fight and wield magic here. Their training is both thorough and brutal. Access is even more restricted than the Campus Martius. Notably even the Chosen, nor the parents of the Gladiators, cannot visit here.
The Grand Market: A huge bazaar where traders from all over the Empire ply their wares. The outer edges of the Bazaar are home to all of the important trading houses that originate outside of Krass.
West Shallows: A residential area made up primarily of tallhouses, large buildings that were made to accommodate the expanding population of the city during the days when Krass was isolated by the storms of the Reckoning.
The Public Beaches: The Coast south of the city has been converted into a beautiful public beach, courtesy of Chosen Giselle who used the gesture to gain support for the expansion of her Domain in the High Assembly.
Headquarters of the Fleet: Military docks, fleet academy, and an enormous lighthouse.
Dockside: An enormous series of commercial docks, warehouses, and port services.
East Shallows: Another area of tallhouses, built on section of land that used to be a swamp.
Portside: A relatively affluent area of residences and businesses, including various factories.
High Park: The ancient mansions of the truly wealthy and powerful, situated in a wonderful, lush park.
The Triumphal Way: The beginnings of the great eastern road that crosses the empire. The Triumphal way is decorated with enormous arches depicting the great victories of the domains.
The Capital Hill: Includes the Grand Parade Square, The Grand Arena, The Hall of the Chosen, The Oathstone, and The High Assembly. The high vantage point and the size of the buildings give this area an impressive skyline.