C.P.D. Harris's Blog, page 67

Battle Tactics: The Roman Camp and The Legions of the Domains of the Chosen

The Remains of a marching camp in England.

When I was a young lad, I was always fascinated by the Romans. The splendour and the efficiency of the Roman Republic and later, the Roman Empire with its colourful uniforms, grandiose architecture, gladiators,  and history of conquest were of great appeal to a kid who like to play at battles and read fantasy. It wasn’t until I was older that I began to understand the ugly side of that ancient civilization; the politics, slavery, the brutality of the arena, genocide and Roman imperialism. I still love Rome, but that love is tempered by a realization of its deep and abiding flaws, and in some cases my flaws as well.

The Domains of the Chosen Series, currently the novels Bloodlust: A Gladiator’s Tale, Bloodlust: Will to Power, and the short story Bloodlust: The Great Games, flow from my interest in that great classical civilization. The Domains could be seen as  the Roman Empire with magic, fantasy races, and a great apocalypse thrown in (Tolkien, a little bit of Jordan, some Earthdawn, and a pinch of steampunk).

The Roman Legions are of particular interest. One of the few truly professional military forces of pre-modern times, the Legions were the catalyst for much of Roman politics, colonization, and efficiency, as well as the cutting edge of their scythe of conquest. They had their hands in many of Rome’s grand accomplishments, particularly Roman roads and Roman fort towns. I wanted the Legions of the Domains to be similarly involved in the politics of the Domains, a sort balancing factor  between the Chosen and the Popular factions. I also adopted many of the conventions used by the Legions, just for the sake of familiarity. One of these tactics, in particular, has ended up changing the principle action in my third book Warbound: The Shield Maiden.

My assumption was that the Legions of the Domains would create the same sort of camps (Castra) on the march. Keep in mind, as I discusssed last week, Warbound: The Shield Maiden is partly based on Xenophon’s Anabasis, a story about a Greek mercenary army on the march. This mix was all fine and dandy until today, when I realized that the idea of building a camp, on the march (they did it even when under attack!) would completely change the dynamic of such a journey. Let me break it down.

The creation of a temporary, fortified camp at the end of a day’s march changes dynamic of conflict in a number of ways

Safety: The obvious difference between an army with a regular camp and the Roman system was that the Castra was far safer. Attacks from larger forces and surprise assaults would be blunted by the fortifications. This ensure that the whole army was better rested and able to operate for longer. While the Castra is hardly a fortress, or even a Roman fort, it is certainly more than a speedbump. In particular it makes harassing attacks on the army less effective; the Castra was even built to foil ranged attacks against sleeping units. Being able to rest and arm in relative safety, in hostile territory, is important.
Safe Supply: When operating the Romans could use their Castra to protect the supplies they brought with them, and even the booty they looted. Supply disasters were the bane of medieval and tribal armies, which often could not fight for more than a few days without secure supply. The Roman system gave the Legion a great deal more endurance in this aspect as well. Even with an army surviving off forage, it makes a significant difference — you have an organized system to protect the vital supplies needed to make war, as well as the equipment to carry it.
Engineers in the Field: The Castra system demanded that the Romans bring engineers with them. These soldiers were immunes, not subject to regular duties and were in charge of making sure the camp was set up properly. They could commandeer labour as required. Because they brought these specialists with them, the Romans had a tremendous advantage in other forms of warfare. Their siege techniques and feats of battle engineering were beyond almost anything seen on the battlefield until the Rennaissance. Examples include the siege of Alesia where the Romans surrounded an entire town (~20km encirclement), very rapidly, with this:

You wake up one morning and there it is. How would you feel?

The Mobile Republic: The Ten Thousand Greeks from the Anabasis are sometimes referred to as the mobile republic, or the marching republic. Removed from their homes, their leaders mostly lost, and perpetually on the brink of disaster the Ten Thousand made their decisions in a very interesting fashion, relying more on persuasion than chain of command. The Castra, and other facets of the Roman system of warfare, change this dynamic. With a camp system in place, non-combat personnel  are able to accompany the Legionnaires because they have a protected place to stay. Thus, these civilians become part of the discussions that form the stress points of the relationships in an Anabasis style tale. Additionally, the army is used to moving mass quantities of supplies very quickly, and will have its own supply train that can operate on campaign — something that very few traditional armies could match before the modern day.

On the downside, this revelation means that I will have to rethink several parts of the book because of this. Xenophon’s army was constantly harassed, fearful of larger forces, and always hungry for supplies. A Legion in the same position would be much more relaxed because of their camp structure and habit of bringing along a large group of pioneers, engineers, and other specialists like smiths to keep them operating in the field. On the plus side, I feel that the camp structure gives the Ninth Legion a better character. Modern readers admire endurance and intelligence, and the camp structure gifts the Legion with these qualities in abundance.

Nomads 15 (End Volume 1)

Nomads is my first experimental serial. The setting is futuristic with elements of armoured suits, diaspora fleets, and bug-hunting.  The experimental part is me trying to write cohesively and coherently in first person, with as little editing and preparation as possible.

Link to Nomads 1, Link to Nomads 14

After the mutiny on the Falcon was put down, we headed back to the Fleet. We had no way of knowing if there were any more subversives on the ship, although a room to room search did not turn up any more silver suits and masks or weapons in any of the crew quarters, we did find stashes in several places around the ship.

The silver suits were unremarkable, a nano-mesh weave that function as a level of light armour. They were a flashier version of a typical fleet uniform. Silver seemed like a foolishly ostentatious colour to pick for a covert group, so I felt it must have some sort special significance to them. The masks were minimalist, with tiny slots to represent eyes and mouth, also silver and polished to a mirror sheen. The masks also included a primitive com suite, including a rudimentary but serviceable tactical grid and targeting assistance. The targeting program was of the sort that would allow a novice to fire at a certified level of proficieny; it could turn anyone with a little training into something more dangerous.

Beyond that we could not find out anything more. Not a single prisoner survived; even those we captured found ways of killing themselves. The Falcon did not have any deprogramming facilities; she just wasn’t that kind of ship.

Nervous, Captain Otumo hightailed it back to Fleet, dispatching a request for an escort along with his report about the Cryopod and the insurgency. Fleet contacted others on board, including myself, for details and clarification. Two days later an Elite strike cruiser, the Orion, showed up to lead us back to the seventh Diaspora Fleet. We also received orders not to leave the ship; fleet wanted to inspect everyone as they left. This caused a fair bit of grumbling among the crew, but was hardly unexpected.

We held a brief funeral service for the lost. Three Nomads and twenty-seven loyal crew-members of the Falcon. I said a few words, but I couldn’t really do justice to Jessup and the others. A man or woman who goes down fighting in service to their fellow men is wrapped in a mantle of dignity that defies description, and yet is easily understood by most. Perhaps that is the reason that they are often honoured by the ancient tradition of a moment of silence. After the funeral rites Triumph, Shrike, Sunspear, Scorch, Sphinx, Malificent, and Myself all got together and got good and drunk, trading our favourite stories about each of the lost.

With the assistance of the Orion, it did not take us long to reach fleet.

The origin of Diaspora Fleets dates back to a schism of some sort, thousands of years ago. Thirteen Fleets of ships, each organized around a massive mothership, spread out, fleeing a dying empire. Gradually the fleets moved beyond reliable communications range, or were destroyed, or simply forgot how to communicate. The seventh Fleet has seen signs of others in colonies and ancient archaeology, but the last real contact was over a thousand years ago. I never doubted that the other Fleets existed, but unlike some others, I wasn’t sure that meeting up with our long lost human brethren would be all that fun; we have a history of doing harm to those closest to us.

Picket ships, gatherers, and scouts, usually range far afield, acting as the eyes and arms of the fleet. The proper edge of the Fleet is made up of heavily armoured warships. These tough ships form the outer “skin” of the fleet formation. Some of them are specialized shield ships, nearly invulnerable from the outer arc of fire, while others are well rounded battle-ships that pack a punch as a well as being hard to destroy. Behind the outer ring are artillery ships, refineries, flak ships, and carriers. The artillery ships mount massive long range firepower. The refineries process the materials the gatherers return. Carriers act as re-supply points for scouts and also carry and manufacture fighters — both manned and drone. Flak ships shoot down any craft or ordinance than penetrate the outer layers. The third layer is made up of research ships, agriculture ships, clan ships, residential ships, and many other types of ships. These tend to be less capable in battle, but are rarely defenceless.

The final layer is the mothership. The Mothership is the largest ship in the fleet, by far. Three billion people make their home on the seventh’s mothership, the Athens. It is a massive cylinder with a cavernous interior that is usually full of ships in the final stages of construction.

The Orion herded the Falcon towards this mothership. The Athens held the headquarters of the seventh Diaspora Fleet, and they urgently wanted to talk to us all about a ancient Cryopod, some crazy subversives in silver suits, and a dead man…

Thus ends Nomads, for a little while at least. I feel I need time to digest what I have learned. Feel free to leave any comments or comments about the series here.

World Building and exposition: Xenophon’s Anabasis

Xenophon’s Anabasis is one of the key texts of ancient Greek literature. Not only is it a historical account of great importance; it is also a simply written tale of adventure that remains compelling to this day and has become the template for other works.

Xenophon was an officer in a mercenary force of Greek heavy infantry (likely hoplites) hired by Cyrus the Younger to help depose his brother, Artaxerxes II, and take control of the Persian Empire. They combined forces engaged the enemy in 401 BC at Cunaxa. (by comparison the battle of Thermopylae was in ~480 , and Alexander’s conquests of Persia began in ~334 BC). The leader of the ten thousand Greeks, Clearchus, arrogantly refused to follow Cyrus’ battle plan which led to the loss of the battle and the Prince’s death. After the battle Clearchus and most of the senior leadership of the Greek forces were tricked and betrayed when they tried to treat with Artaxerxes vassals. Xenophon is one of three leaders elected by the men to replace their lost leadership.

The main narrative occurs after the battle is lost and the Greek leadership is removed. The Greeks are deep behind enemy lines, no longer supported by friends, low on supplies, and with uncertain leadership. The Persians decide to let the elements destroy the Greeks rather than engaging them in a costly battle. Instead they harry them and force them into terrible terrain. And yet the ten thousand endure, marching North from Cunaxa to the Greek Colonies on the Black Sea, through desert and mountain, foraging, fighting, selling their services, and ultimately finding a way home. It is easy to see why this is a compelling tale, and how it can be used as a great template for militaristic fantasy. My favourite anabasis style work is Glen Cook’s Black Company series, although The Warriors movie  holds a special place in my heart as well.

Fantasy enthusiasts often create huge elaborate worlds with dozens of complex cultures, civilizations, places and so on. Take a look at this world building subreddit to see a few interesting examples of people’s imaginations run wild with world-building.

One of the problems encountered with this level of detail, when writing a novel, is that it is hard to download it on the reader without ruining the pacing that is expected of a good story. Games have a much easier time of this — especially open-world sandbox type games. The player being  free to explore and engage with a large world at the pace of their choosing is more or less the point, in that case. However the narrative structure of the novel is such that the author must dictate pacing, and paragraphs of exposition can really get in the way of a story. Nobody really wants to stop and read a long dissertation about where the Orc Barbarians who are storming the castle came from, and what their culture is like. Describing the culture of a people that the protagonists meet in passing, just once, in great detail can really make that escape from the oddly dangerous bandits that are tracking them seem a little less pressing. A lengthy discussion of history is also a great chunk of pacing issues, especially if it is not directly related to the plot. Exposition must be brought out organically, as part of the story in most cases, which makes it hard to show off s big, brilliantly built world.

The tried and true methods of allowing the reader to experience more of the world are

The Quest: In a quest base narrative the protagonists must travel to many different places to achieve their goal, often interacting with obscure arcana as part of the Quest. This arcana is a great way expose history and the journey is an excellent way to expose geography. The quest is the easy method of creating a journey that leads through many exotic areas  allowing the author to show off a lot of their world.
Multiple Character Epic: A multiple character epic allows the author to set different perspective characters in different parts of the world. In effect, each of those characters becomes the exposition for the part of the world that the author wishes to show off. This strikes me as the best way to showcase a huge world without ruining pace, but it seems quite hard to pull off convincingly.

The Anabasis Story offers an excellent alternative to The Quest for world exposition. Here are the main advantages of such a story type for world-building.

Exposition without dissonance: In the Anabasis form, the protagonists are strangers to the area they are in, picking up local customs and history as they try to get home. They have a legitimate void of knowledge that needs to be filled and real reasons to fill it.
Realistic Exploration: The easy way home is, of course, blocked. The group must take the unfamiliar path, which will require them to explore just to find that path. Climate, terrain, and food scources all become of utmost import to a group trying to find their way out of a strange environment.
Immediate Political Involvement: A small band wandering through an area is hardly cause for the high and mighty to react, an army on the move ALWAYS elicits a political reaction, and not always a hostile one. Opportunities abound: the Ten Thousand ended up selling their services in the their travels, after all. This allows the reader to experience even the most Byzantine political systems with great validity, since the members of the travelling army have a real interest in it and it is directly related to the story.
Home: because the characters will constantly be comparing every strange thing, to “the way it is back home.” it is easy for the writer to create exposition for the home culture as well.
Structure: The Anabasis narrative provides a strong structure for exposition without wrecking the pacing of a story. The band will explore their options, act accordingly, and move on. The hardships they face, the places they go, and the obstacles that they must overcome are all legitimate uses of your carefully built world that will not derail the story. It is an ideal form for a writer who wants to immerse the reader in multiple parts of a large Fantasy world.

Nomads 14

Nomads is my first experimental serial. The setting is futuristic with elements of armoured suits, diaspora fleets, and bug-hunting.  The experimental part is me trying to write cohesively and coherently in first person, with as little editing and preparation as possible.

Link to Nomads 1, Link to Nomads 13.

“Damn we’re glad to see you Nomad,” said the ranking security officer as we assumed control of the area, nodding his helmet my way.

“What’s the situation officer? ” I asked. I wanted to avoid any questions about how we faked our demise and get straight to details. While the man spoke I watched Triumph’s progress on tactical; they were making good progress on their way to engineering. I hoped Malificent and Scorch could contain their enthusiasm for destruction; the last thing we needed was a fire or a hull breach complicating matters. The Falcon was a combat ready corvette, but some people can find ways to damage anything.

“We received a report that your Dropship sustained damage,” said the security officer. “About fifteen minutes later some of the crew took the shuttle bay, swift and bloody. That tripped the alarm.  The attackers all wear those odd suits and masks. Lockdown doesn’t seem to stop them and we don’t know where they got their weapons.”

I nodded. Nothing surprising thus far. The Falcon’s systems would have to be swept after this; no telling what sort of malware was allowing the Silvers to bypass lockdown.

“We’re headed to the Bridge,” I said. “We have a second team taking engineering. Round up your men and start sweeping floor by floor. Alert us on ship security channel if you run into anything you can’t handle.”

“Understood Nomad,” he said. I was pleased at the lack of pushback on my orders. Sometimes security gets possessive and forgets that Nomads have orders priority in boarding and mutiny situations. Technically I currently outranked captain Otumo; the thought brought a smile to my face as I marked the paths we would be taking. As I finished Sunspear’s avatar went red and registered targets; she’d been spotted in the shuttle bay. After a heart-pounding interval that had to be less than a minute but felt like an hour, her targets all went black.

“Report,” I commed.

“They saw me,” Sunspears voice came through loud and clear, as steady as her biosigns. “Bastards actually tried to sneak up on me. Good thing I can count. All targets accounted for and dead; two refused surrender. Want me to follow you to the bridge?”

“Negative,” I said. “Lock the bay and over-ride then dig-in. I expect some of them might try to make a run for it. They’ll want the cryopod.”

“Too bad I can’t set any mines,” said Sunspear. “I should be able to make due once I gather a few drones. Good luck on your end, Raven.”

Shrike, Sphinx, and myself took three separate routs towards the bridge. We covered ground cautiously, but quickly. I wasn’t sure if the Silvers were aware of us yet, but it appeared as if they were concentrating their remaining forces on the Bridge. Over-riding bridge control would give them access to several defensive countermeasures that might prove to be problematic; the internal drones and forcewalls of a ship like the Falcon were pretty good, but not enough to stop a Nomad.

I figured that If our enemies knew we were coming they had to be panicking. Lightly armed soldiers stood little chance against a fully deployed Nomad. Even if we ran out of ammunition we could rip them apart with our bare hands quicker than they could cut us down with light weaponry. So far I hadn’t seen anything serious, although Triumph was now meeting with stiff resistance down in Engineering. Improvised explosives, probably.

Shrike’s Avatar blinked, two targets going red near her and then fading to black almost immediately. I did not hear the rapport of her shotgun, wondered if she used blades.

The signs of heavy fighting increased as we neared the bridge. Scorch marks and bullet holes on the wall. A dead security officer behind a makeshift barricade. A trio silver suited masked corpses had bled out near the remains of  the armoured blast doors that protected bridge access. Beyond them I could see flashes of weapons fire. I signaled Sphinx and Shrike to move in behind me and powered my suit’s shields to max. I really need to stop leaving the shield drone behind.

I strode forward, into the breech, shouting. “This is Nomad Raven of Seventh Fleet, Lay down your Weapons.”

They answered with blaster fire. I didn’t even get a chance to fire my Tri-Beam. There were a few significant weapons among the Silvers, and my shields began to drop alarmingly. Unfortunately for the Silvers, firing on me gave away their positions to Sphinx and Shrike who leapt in, weapons blazing. The bridge crew holdouts rallied and fired at them from the other side. The last Silver turned his weapon on himself, scorching his own head. I couldn’t blame him, Fleet was rumored to be rather unkind to traitors.

The Bridge was heavily damaged with both sides using every available piece of furniture and equipment for cover. There were quite a few crewmen amid the dead. Otumo stepped out from behind a damaged monitoring station. His pristine uniform was scorched and he carried a rather classy looking antique plasma blaster.

“Nice gun,” I said.

“What is the meaning of this, Raven?” he said, looking angry. “We thought you were dead.”

“Long story,” I said. “It will have to wait Captain. You have a crew to command and we still have insurgents on this ship. I’m in command until the last Silver falls, so if you don’t mind…”

I turned my back on him and wet back to work, trying not to grin.

The Antagonists of my Dreams: The Wolf of Wall Street, Rob Ford, and Dark Lords in Fantasy

Poster for The Wolf of Wall Street with DiCaprio as Jordan Belfort.

This gets political, fair warning.

So, I must admit I really enjoyed The Wolf of Wall Street [Spoiler Alert]. In some ways I feel that it was a movie made just for me. You see I grew up in the eighties, and even at a young age I was very aware of the direction that rampant capitalistic excess would take our society (scoff if you wish, it seems pretty obvious to me). Now that I am an adult, living in the ongoing aftermath of the latest hangover of the ongoing orgy of greed, I find it gratifying to see a major film-maker who so obviously shares my disgust with people like Jordan Belfort, the narrator of the Wolf of Wall Street.

Although the movie is based on a book by Jordan Belfort about his own life, and many scenes in the movie are based around videos that he recorded (some of which you can see on youtube, interestingly) the movie drips with contempt for the main character:

Belfort is never shown as doing anything remotely good with his money in movie. It all goes to excess and self indulgence, most of it buying drugs, women, cars, and other material possessions. While he loves to throw a good party, he never seems satisfied, not does he do anything really worthy with all that cash.
Belfort is unequivocally shown as getting his money by duping others. He has nothing but contempt for his “clients”. The key scene here is when he is teaching his new employees how to lie to sell certain stocks by sticking to a particular script. The whole time he is talking to the client while demonstrating this method he is giving the phone the finger and mocking the person who he is taking money from.
Belfort’s first wife is the type of woman ‘real’ men dream of. When he loses his first job she is willing to support him 100% while he gets back on his feet, even taking extra shifts to do so. In fact she helps him find the job that gets him back on his feet. He repays this woman by cheating on her with a woman who was somewhat more attractive physically, but has the personality of a greedy cheese grater and shares Belfort’s bottomless desire for material gratification. He offers his supportive, wonderful first wife no explanation of his behavior and she simply disappears from his life when she learns of his cowardly lack of faith. He never seems to realize he has done something wrong. Utterly disgusting.
When things go south with wife #2 he hits her. Pretty pathetic.
Belfort endangers the life of his child by kidnapping her while messed up and crashing his Ferrari (again) almost killing both of them.
Belfort shows more loyalty to his cronies than anyone in his family. His relationship with Donnie Azoff (Jonah Hill) is such that even when Donnie screws up his life in a failed bid to hide money, Jordan goes out of his way to warn him about the FBI sting, passing him a note that says he is wearing a wire. He shows more loyalty to this jackass than anyone else, even though it costs him time and time again.
The drug use. Belfort’s endless addiction to drugs might seem like “paying the cost to be the boss” initially, but in the movies climactic scenes it reduces him to a laughable, helpless idiot who is only able to function because he is rich enough to cover it up and pay for lawyers who keep him out of trouble for driving while high and so on. DiCaprio’s acting is beyond brilliant here; if you’ve ever been the sober person at a party where everyone is obnoxiously drunk, you know what I mean. Belfort’s drug use seems childish by hour three.
The Misogyny. Belfort and his cronies treat women like whores and trophies. Not only that but they encourage their female colleagues to do the same. Belfort is never shown having a normal conversation with a woman, even his wisecracking assistant after his first wife leaves him. He views women mostly as objects. This is beautifully demonstrated when he meets up with his second wife’s aunt so he can get her help hiding money. Jordan is so incapable of relating to a woman as a human being that when aunt Emma strikes up a fairly normal conversation with him he thinks she is hitting on him.
Naturally he shows contempt for the law, but that is not necessarily a bad quality in a protagonist.

The only positive quality that Belfort demonstrates is a desire to succeed at all costs. The costs of his actions are hinted at throughout the movie, and directly shown in the brutal subway scene where we see the FBI detective who works like a mad fiend to catch him sink back into his seat looking at all the tired working class people around him, shaking his head at Belfort’s prison sentence.

Yet this ruthless ambition, combined with his success, attracts followers for Belfort, like moths to a candle. These, the director seems to show, might be the real problem, willing to support such men even after they have been revealed to be frauds, cheats, and scum in the hopes of gaining wealth. Instead they are just feeding the cycle, and deep down Belfort probably sees them in the same way that he saw his previous clients — his current source of cash.

I love this movie because I love to hate people like Jordan Belfort.

The whole story reminds me a great deal of Toronto Mayor Rob Ford and his supporters. Drugs, Booze, outright lies, and even misogyny. Yet Ford enjoys a core of fanatical support even now because of the bravado he exudes and his apparent success. Some people are willing to swallow his lies, even though he seems comically villainous to others, like a villain from a bad storybook. It is the same with Silvio Berlusconi and so on. I’m sure these people all have stories that justify their behaviour; I’m equally sure it doesn’t matter. Their actions paint a picture that overshadows any potential sympathy from sources outside their cultish followings.

All of this leads me back to Tolkien and Sauron, and other so called Dark Lords. Much of recent fantasy has been a meditation on villainy and the motivations of black-hearted anti-heroes. Tolkien often gets bashed for creating an opaque caricature of a villain in Sauron, generally by people who haven’t read deeply enough. Then again in a world where people idolize Rob Ford and Jordan Belfort do you really need justification for Sauron and his army of orcs. And doesn’t that have some ugly implications…

I think so…

Nomads 13

Nomads is my first experimental serial. The setting is futuristic with elements of armoured suits, diaspora fleets, and bugs.  The experimental part is me trying to write cohesively and coherently in first person, with as little editing and preparation as possible.

Link to Nomads One, Link to Nomads 12

“Hey Raven,” said Scorch through the side of his mouth. “What makes you think that these guys will attack immediately instead of waiting?”

I made a sour face at Scorch, not just because he was supposed to be playing dead in case someone was looking at him using internal cams. Every plan has a flaw. I assumed that whoever was behind the bomb would show themselves quickly to take advantage of the shock. They’d certainly want to attack before salvage investigations showed that the explosion was consistent with sabotage. But the truth is I was taking a gamble, and I would have trouble explaining my actions if Captain Otumo opened the door to find us all lying around covered in fake blood for shits and giggles.

I was saved the trouble of responding by Malificent; I’ve never seen anyone glare effectively  through a single half-open eye, but that woman has serious skills. I head someone snicker. Sunspear probably.

The Dropship shook as the docking field took hold of us. Everyone became still. My mind was filled with unknowns; little scenarios about how the next few minutes of our lives would play out. If our guess was correct we would soon be in combat aboard the Falcon. What if our unknown subversives had smuggled more than a bomb on board?; nomad suits, attack drones, charges big enough to blow the Falcon, the potential situations went round and round in my head as I waited. I can never quiet my mind in that moment of anticipation just before the action starts; one more character flaw on the list I suppose.

There was a metallic click as the docking clamps followed by subtle change in the atmosphere. I always wonder if I imagine that last part, or if I really can feel as the ship engulfs us in her belly.

We waited. Minutes passed. Five. Ten. Fifteen. Even a cautious prick like Otumo would have sent in a drone to check for lifesigns by now. I stoop up, shaking off bug viscera. Tactical sparked to life as the rest of Bright Sword started moving.

“Helmets secured people,” I commed. “This bay isn’t pressurized yet. Either we’re going to catch them by surprise, or they’re set up to gun us down. I’m out first.”

“Why not send a seeker out?” said Sphinx.

“Because it doesn’t change what we’re going to do.” I said. I set my shields to max, full frontal. What I wouldn’t give for a functional shield drone. “On three.”

“One… two… three,”

I popped the drop hatch and leapt out of the Dropship. The bay was unlit and quickly sucked the atmosphere out of the dropship. Other than that things were eerily silent. Emergency lights flashed red through the control room window.

“Open the airlock, over-ride if you have to.” I said. We stepped in to the airlock. Still no resistance. Decontamination protocol activated automatically covering us in biokill sprays.

I commed Otumo on a secure channel while we waited. “Bright Sword alive and active. Status?”

After a moment. “Under attack. Lockdown has been over-ridden. We are holding the bridge. Require assistance.”

On tactical I highlighted the bridge as a conflict zone. This was our first goal. I did not want to split the team up, but Triumph convinced me to sent him, Scorch, and Malificent to secure the engineering deck. Weapons and engines are important, and after the bridge, engineering offers the most control over the ship.

The airlock opened and we started moving. I could see beamer scorch marks on the interior bulkheads. There was no movement in the corridor. We split.

“Plan?” asked Shrike.

“Tactical approach,” I said. In a boarding action on a hostile ship I would blitz, but I had no idea who was friend or foe at the moment. I did not feel like to add friendly fire to my saga.

I sent my remaining seeker drone, Munin, ahead of us. It didn’t take me long to find the first bodies, a couple of crewmen slumped next to each other near the next bay. They had been shot in the back of the head with a beamer, execution style. The bay was the one containing shuttle with the Cryopod. Several men in strange looking uniforms, silver and blue with masks, were examining the Cryopod. The bridge was still our first priority, so I had Sunspear remain behind to deal with them. No matter what tech their suits gave them, they weren’t a match for a Nomad sniper who had the drop on them.

I registered gunfire. Triumph group was still showing as clear. My drone rounded a corner and caught a glimpse of a handful of armed crewmen, security most likely, holding a barricade against a larger group of silver suited subversives. Both sides had wounded.

Tactical gave me a schematic of the entire ship. It was easy to find a round that allowed us to flank the attackers. I sent security a message on local via Munin.

The sad think about an enemy that wears masks is that you cannot see the looks on their faces as they realize they are completely and utterly outgunned. To their credit the Silvers did not run when they saw me, but rather turned an fired. Charge guns arcs and light blaster bolts bounced off my shields. A concussion grenade went off at my feet, staggering me before I could retaliate. The Silvers tried to take advantage of this, but Sphinx was behind me. A blaster shot smoked a hole in a silver. I shook off the grenade and shot a smoking hold in anothe with my tri-beam. They remained eerily silent. The rest turned to run, but ran into Shrike who cut two down with her shotgun. The last of them sought cover and kept shooting, but their position was compromised — we had them in crossfire. They kept shooting until the last one fell.

The security boys were all smiles as they came out from behind their barricades.

Fantasy World Building: The Vvath

A Doom Reaver from Warmachine.

For this week’s post I wish to return to the subject of world-building. Much of Warbound: The Shield Maiden takes place beyond the borders of the Domains of the Chosen, following the Ninth legion as they travel the long route home. I am going to share some of my world-building ideas here. There is a long list of does and don’ts for fantasy world-building. If you are looking for direct advice I would try the worldbuilding and fantasywriters pages on Reddit. Patrick Rothfuss and Brandon Sanderson also have great podcasts and other material on world building. I’m not going to expound on those, but rather go through my own process, which is decidedly utilitarian.

Inspiration and Goals: The Vvath

With the Vvath I started with an idea stolen shamelessly from one of my favourite games; Warmachine by Privateer Press (with some influences via Michael Moorcock and others). In the Iron Kingdoms, one of the warring factions has unearthed blades enchanted with ancient dark magic, covered in gibbering faces. These blades turn the wielders into homicidal maniacs. Rather than recoil at the discovery, Khador decided to put these powerful, dangerous weapons to good use. The blades are given to convicts and condemned men who are then shipped off to the front and used as shock troops. What could go wrong?

The troops are called Doom Reavers, and they look more or less like a mystical version of a serial slasher from an eighties horror movie crossed with a decidedly evil knight. The idea of corrupt blades intrigued me, especially with the idea of the Reckoning, the great magical war that spiraled out of control and devastated the Domains and tainted the rest of the world. I can see these sort of weapons being created as part of the the war of the Reckoning and then becoming central to one of the new cultures that arose from the ashes.

History [general goal] All of the civilizations in Warbound: The Shield Maiden must be juxtaposed against the Domains of the Chosen. For various reasons the Domains are a very familiar society, early America as settled by the Roman Empire if you will. The names are all easy, based around the Chosen, with only a few hints of the civilizations that existed before the Reckoning and the reconquest. The goal with the Vvath is to create a little blister of culture that helps define the Domains from the outside.
Alien Flavour [general goal] The Domains are mostly free of the after-effects of the reckoning. The walls of Krass never fell before the wild magic or the hordes of tainted. The people of the Domains consider themselves the last bastion of civilization and have a very imperialistic past. I want the Vvath to be a harsher reflection of this — a society bent on conquest and domination.
Dwarven Heritage [Vvath goal] I have always had a soft spot for dwarves in Fantasy fiction, and the idea of using a nation of imperialistic Dwarves as the basis for a set of antagonists really appeals to me. The archetypal dwarven penchant for smithing makes the blades an ideal weapon for them.
Intelligent Blades [Vvath goal] The blades themselves have to be interesting, with a unique enchantment process and look. Obviously I don’t want to just copy the Doom Reavers; inspiration is one thing, outright plagiarism is another.
All is not as it seems [Vvath goal] I want there to be something cunning and insidious about the Vvath.
Ideology  [Vvath goal] The Vvath are a competing ideology to the Domains. They must present a view of the world that is at odds with the Krrassian Empire, yet understandable to the modern reader.

Outlines of the Vvath, the Sword-Lords of Khazak Krim

History [general goal] Khazak Krim was once part of a larger Dwarven Kingdom. It was a border trade city overlooking the only land route between the continents of Sudra and Ithal’Duin. When the reckoning began the wealth of the Dwarves was a tempting target to the Gifted, and Khazak Krim quickly found itself cut off from the rest of the kingdom. Never numerous, the Dwarves of Khazak Krim realized that they did not have enough people The original blades did not originate from within Khazak Krim, but the Vvath saw their potential and used them to create an army which helped protect them throughout the Reckoning and expand afterwards.
Alien Flavour [general goal] The Vvath believe in slave labour. All races are seen as inferior to the Vvath and Dwarves in general. Khazak Krim is a wondrous paradise that overlooks an empire of squalor where non-dwarves are, at best, seen as potential hosts for a Vvath blade.
Dwarven Heritage [Vvath goal] Aside from the swords and totalitarian society the Vvath are very similar to a regular society of Fantasy dwarves. Slave labour does  make them less inclined to be miners, however.
Intelligent Blades [Vvath goal] When a Vvath comes to middle age they craft a Vvath Blade. Their consciousness is transferred into the blade in a dark and crazy ritual which I have not thought up yet and possesses the living, but mindless husk of their own body or whatever body wields the blade. When the Vvaths original body is slain or destroyed, a new body is sought out. Obviously, this changes their psychology somewhat

Soul Eating? I also toyed with the idea of the Vvath blades being able to animate the dead that they kill or to eat souls to heal the wielder. Not sure yet.


All is not as it seems [Vvath goal] The Vvath hold contests in the far flung regions of their Domains and among their slaves. (Maybe even some Gladiators) The worthy are gifted with a Vvath blade. The blades have a reputation of making the wielder invincible in battle, gifting them with supernatural strength and toughness. Of course this is true, but the blades also erode the consciousness of the wielder and allow the Vvath in the blade to take control. Bodies that are possessed long enough start to take on the features of the Vvath — hence many of the hosts wear copious amounts of armour and masks to hide their growing deformities. At Khazad Krim host bodies wear a mask that resemble the original face of the Vvath.
Ideology  [Vvath goal] The Vvath are a totalitarian society, ruled by ancient sword lords. The sword lords are the opposite of the Chosen in many ways, since the contest to choose new bodies is a ruse. The idea of slavery is one that readers will understand but generally find repulsive.

Nomads 12

Nomads is my first experimental serial. The setting is futuristic with elements of armoured suits, diaspora fleets, and bugs.  The experimental part is me trying to write cohesively and coherently in first person, with as little editing and preparation as possible.

Link to the first nomads, Link to nomads 11.

The bomb on our ship was a cold hard reality. Fleet hushes up any news of subversives, eliminating evidence quickly and quietly; even their trials are played down — recorded with transcripts instead of trideo. Yet the bomb was evidence of sabotage coming from someone aboard the Falcon. Much as I disliked the overly ambitious Captain Otumo, I could not see him jeopardizing his career with this kind of attack. I could see him leaving us behind or making us look bad, but brazen murder was too much of a risk.

“Can we set it up so that the bomb explodes harmlessly?” I asked.

“Sure,” said Malificent. “I can do it without tripping any of the tampering alarms. Lets get at it Scorch.”

“Thanks Mal,” I said. “Our primary problem is convincing everyone that we are dead, or at least in bad enough shape that the insurgents feel confident that they can take the Falcon. A simple scan will reveal that we are alive pretty quickly. Our second problem is getting on board after the explosion; we don’t want to be left drifting while the action goes down. Suggestions?”

“We could cause a Radiation leak,” said Sphinx. “That would baffle the sensors.”

“No,” said Shrike. “They’d never pull an irradiated ship on board, especially one that just exploded, the Falcon is not geared for that kind of work.”

“What else can baffle sensors?” asked Triumph.

“Can’t you set up a feedback loop of some sort Sphinx?” said Sunspear. “Hack the sensor readings instead of trying to fool them.”

“Oh, yes I can.” said Sphinx. She sounded excited.

“You ladies want to explain that to the rest of us?” I asked.

“Well,” said Sphinx. “It is hard to fool Sensors as powerful and comprehensive as those found on the Falcon, but If I can replace the sensor readings with the data I want them to see we can easily convince them we are dead.”

“Can you do that?” I asked.

“Yes,” said Sphinx. “I can only fool them for a few minutes though. This kind of hack only works if they aren’t looking for it.”

“Not bad,” I said. “Any more suggestions?”

“We should make it look real nasty inside,” said Shrike. “Their bound to check the dropships internal cameras or even our deadbox feeds.”

“Lovely. Let’s get to work,” I said. I sounded more confidant than I felt. I wondered if I was risking the remains of my squad on a longshot to get revenge on hidden enemies. And yet, no one objected to the plan as we laid it out and so I kept my worries to myself.

Half an hour later we were accelerating out of the atmosphere. The Dropship rose smoothly through the clouds.  Naturally our unknown assailants tried to trigger their bomb to explode during a critical part of the ascent. Malificent’s modifications ensured that the explosion did very little actual damage. I will admit though, that my heat jumped into my throat when I heard the boom. So many thing can go wrong during a trans-atmospheric flight, adding another set of variables reminded me of that.

Fake debris and “blood” were strewn around the crew compartment and cockpit by smaller explosions. Mal did a great job on these as well. Lots of practice blowing stuff up I suppose. Scorch looked like he’d almost been blown in half if you looked at his suit  from the proper angle.

Sphinx gave me the thumbs up; her hack was working, then Shrike flicked on the distress signal and we waited, drifting through space, to see if our ruse would work…

Nomads 11

Nomads is my first experimental serial.The setting is futuristic with elements of armoured suits, diaspora fleets, and bugs.  The experimental part is me trying to write cohesively and coherently in first person, with as little editing and preparation as possible.

Link to the first nomads, link to nomads 10.

“What the fuck are we going to do Raven?” said Shrike, her voice soft and despairing. Someone wanted us dead. Smart bets were on Otumo, or one of his flunkies. An intact, occupied Cryopod  from another diaspora fleet or a lost colony would make an ambitious picket captain’s career. I could see him betraying us, but I wasn’t sure about a bomb — stabbing us in the back in his reports or leaving us stranded for a few weeks would be his style, but outright murder seemed extreme.

“We need to think this through,” I said. “Everyone gather up over here.”

I did not want to speak near the ship for fear that the bomb would go off. While bomb had operations grade stealth features, the actual explosive was garden variety, nothing exotic. It would be lethal in space, of course, but the danger zone was limited against a nomad suit on the ground. I called the remains of squad Bright Sword over to me, out of danger. I left my seekers running, checking for additional explosives, as well as listening and monitoring devices. Nomad dropships are swept regularly — all teams must be ready in case they are called in for black ops.

I created a new secure channel, silent and local. for us to speak on. It could be hacked, of course, but it would require some time and more attention from our mystery foes.

“What’s the situation Raven?” asked Scorch, sounding angry and irritable. The mission had gotten to him. Scorch does not like to lose and most Nomads consider losing a squad-mate a serious failure. I tried not to think about Leopard, Quake, and Nova. Faces I would never see again, voices lost for a cycle, at least.

“Someone planted a bomb on our dropship,” I said. “I expect if we’d taken off, we would have had a little accident leaving the atmosphere. We don’t know who planted the device,  but we can be fairly sure it has something to do with this mission, the pod we found.”

“Gotta be Otumo,” said Scorch. “That prick would sell his own mama if he thought it would get him in fleet’s good books. Man wants to be a poli.”

“I thought so too,” I said. “But, it doesn’t add up.”

“He had access,” said Malificent. “He has motive.”

“Think about it, Mal,” said Sphinx. “He has better ways of screwing us — besides, I think whoever set us up here had to know about it beforehand.”

I stood silently for a moment, mind working. Sphinx is smart: she might not be the most experience pilot on the team, but she had priors in both field science, military psychology and fleet intelligence operations. It took me a while to grasp what she was implying; I’m not sure I ever would have arrived without the hint.

“They had to know about the pod beforehand,” I said. “Because someone was planning sabotage.”

“Bombs, even this type, aren’t that easy to requisition or fabricate,” said Shrike.

“Exactly,” said Sphinx. “Believe me, intel tracks everything like this. Every round of ordinance fire by a Nomad, if they can. It is one of the best ways to prevent subversives from blowing a hole in the side of a hab-ship, after all.”

“Not to mention smuggling the damned thing onto the Falcon would be tough,” said Sunspear. “Dock authority is bloody thorough about that sort of thing. Even a captain would have trouble.”

“What if the sabotage is merely opportunistic?” asked Scorch, sounding unconvinced. “It could be that we just have an asshole on the ship who wants to cause trouble.”

“Unlikely,” said Sphinx. “This has to be a carefully thought out act. Picket ships have a relatively high failure rate. It isn’t worth the time and effort to get a bomb and then smuggle in on board, just to destroy a small ship that fleet won’t really miss. But that cryopod? who knows how valuable the occupant is. Picket ships often run into valuable cargo, and we know that scouting this part of the grid is high priority — after all we are are here and so are the Scourge.”

Realization hit me like a hammerblow. “I’m sorry, Raven, I’m so sorry.” Jessup’s voice echoing in my head. He was in charge of putting the drones on the ship. he had known where to find the pod.

“Nomad Leopard knew,” I said.

“He didn’t load the drones so we would be suspicious,” said Triumph. “Something must have tipped him off.”

“Well, I happen to know Nomad Leopard was in on some very classified ops,” said Sphinx. “Ghost stuff. I’m not sure what though.”

“I know he went undercover once,” I said. “Told me he helped break up a cell of subversives who were trying to recruit nomads. Didn’t think much of it — maybe he recognized someone.”

“Why didn’t he say something?” asked Malificent.

“I can think of a few reasons,” said Sphinx. “None of them are verifiable yet. However, I he must have known that we had more than one enemy — after all, if it isn’t Otumo then we are dealing with at least a squad of men.”

“Why is that?” I asked.

“Well I figure they wanted us out of the way so that they could take the ship,” said Sphinx. “We are the best defence against any incursion, especially if they can bypass lockdown. If they can smuggle a bomb on, small arms aren’t that much of a problem, right?”

“Should I warn Otumo?” I asked.

“No,” said Sphinx. “They could easily hide among the crew of the Falcon and strike later. We need to flush them out.”

“Fuck,” said Shrike. “How do we get them to show themselves?”

“We make them think we are dead,” said Sphinx.

Nomads on Sunday

Nomads 11 will be up on Sunday — I have to catch up on my writing due to the Holiday crunch.

Meanwhile, check out Bloodlust: The Great Games on Amazon, free the rest of today.