C.P.D. Harris's Blog, page 68

Nomads 10

Link to the first nomads, link to nomads 9.

(Sorry for the delay, I was busy putting my short story, Bloodlust: The Great Games up on Amazon)

Something bothered me about the drones.

Drones are the backbone of any Nomad team. On a purely tactical level drones act as an adaptable force modifier and allow nomads to engage targets from one extra step removed if desired. An old war philosopher called drones the second remove.  The best way I can explain it is that a remove is an offensive advantage that gives a tremendous advantage in safety over those who do not share it. In her estimation the first remove was ranged weaponry, giving a soldier the ability to kill from a distance. If you have a good rifle and your opponent has a greatsword, the distance between you is a tremendous, almost uncrossable gulf. It takes quite a bit to overcome that remove. A drone adds another remove. You can attack  at a range, remotely. Your opponent may strike back at the drone if they have a ranged weapon, but not necessarily at you. It is an interesting idea that I cannot really do justice to. Suffice it to say that drones changed everything when they first appeared, that much of the old histories survive.

Even when Nomads and the fleet do not have the luxury of sending the drones to do all the work, they often do a lot of the heavy lifting. Some, literally; ammo, cargo, and repair drones are indispensable in many operations, if a little boring. Most Nomads leave non-combat drones to their own devices, letting them run on auto and only interfacing with them through universals. Still, I think they are worth mentioning. Nobody likes running dry when the enemy is bearing down.

Combat drones are sexy. Most nomads have at least two. Some of the more advanced suits drop all but basic weapons in favour of more attack drones. The Black Widow Nomad suit is a good example. Interface with up to twelve drones. A Widow in a secure position is almost as feared as sniper or a kill-sat. Of course interfacing with twelve drones requires a special kind of talent. I find running five difficult enough, and I am considered quite good. I dated a Widow pilot once. In the end I wondered if they named the damned suit class after her.

On the surface Combat drones provide a Nomad team with extra fire-power. Specialist weapons that might be too constraining for regular use, guns that are too unwieldy for your suit class, and so on. A few multi-purpose Combat drones have multiple weapons and even shields, acting as full capability teammates. Their are advantages an disadvantages to both. Most ace Nomads disdain the multi-purpose combat drones, calling them training drones, but Nomad Triumph very rarely leaves his behind. A few combat drones are even more unusual, like Jessup’s ripper drone, Sharky. Ripper drones are essentially a flying bladestorm: monofilament wires, vibrosaws, nightmarish up close. Limited use, but very, very powerful.

Combat drones are also more expendable than Nomads. They know no fear, at least not that I have ever heard. They can be placed in positions and situations that would be too risky for an armoured suit. That’s the second remove thing I guess. Most Nomads hate losing a drone, but it beats kicking the bucket yourself. Almost all combat drones can be set to overload and detonate, it is expensive, but some situations really do call for a remote control suicide bomb.

Sensory drones come in many flavours and are nearly as common as combat drones. A good sensory drone is small, cloaked, and carries quite a bit of analytical equipment. My seekers, Hugi and Munin, are about the size of a human head and carry a full battery of sensory equipment. Raw recruits often look on seekers with disdain, but it only takes one run in with a stalker or a cloaked renegade to change your mind on that account — if you don’t buy it. A few specialist sensory drones see common use among Nomads. Spotter drones act as targeting assists for snipers or artillery. Sniffer drones can analyze scents, which happens to be the best way of detecting and tracking bugs. Sphinx can actually use a sniffer drone to read the scent based communications of the Scourgeforms, the only way we have found of listening in on them.

Defensive drones see frequent use,  especially by heavies. I love my shield drones. Nothing beats having a mobile shield in tight battles — I have saved more than a few squad-mates from death over the years with a well timed shield boost. I sorely missed in this day’s fighting– it is almost as if those bloody stalkers came at me just to get rid of it. Barrier drones are less mobile but can provide a nearly unassailable wall when needed. ECM and counter-missile drones are almost indispensable in some conflicts.

Some of us are even superstitious about the little machines. Drones do not learn an adapt with the speed of a human or full-function AI, but a long serving drone can pick up a few tricks and even some quirks that make them seem like part of the team. I have seen hardened Nomads give funeral services, even shed tears for a pet drone that had been with them for a long time.

Stepping onto a dropship that wasn’t carrying any drones made me feel naked and suddenly vulnerable. Nomads do not neglect their drones, even a lazy, rebellious bastard like Jessup. They are simply too important. We always carry spares, if only to switch out specialist drone types. I held my fist up, pulsing caution over secure coms. I motioned for scorch and maleficent to get off the boat. 

Shrike read my mind, her seekers began to slowly, lazily examine the dropships hull. It did not take them long to find the bomb.

Bloodlust: The Great Games release.

Bloodlust: the Great Games is up on Amazon. I fixed the formatting errors. I still have to get it to list the correct publishing date, and get it to link to my other works but these will not change the reading experience.

Out Now

Short Story is up, but…

Bloodlust: The Great Games is now live. Unfortunately the formatting is ugly on some devices — I have already put in s correction. The problem appears to be I used a PDF instead of a word doc for conversion to kindle

Check it out

Bloodlust: The Great Games

I have been finishing up and submitting Bloodlust: The Great Games, my short story. Bit too tired now to do a Nomads post tonight, so I’ll do that on Sunday.

En lieu of that, here are the first few pages of Bloodlust: The Great Games which should hit Amazon tomorrow.

Coming on Dec 20th to Amazon.

Bloodlust: The Great Games

“Life is harsh. There is no better way to weed out those who are not worthy of the Gift from those who have the strength to lead.” Chosen Moltar

 “If these games are the heart of our culture, then what does that say about us?” Omodo diYava

 “Keep your head in the game, rookie!” growled Darius. “If you let that metal cool now, even for a fraction of a second, it will be brittle. The last thing the fleet needs is this cannon falling apart when it fires.”

The new kid, Boros, snapped to attention, cheeks reddening even further. Sweat from the heat trickled down his face as he worked the metal with the white-hot sun-rod. Behind his back, Darius smiled; unlike the rookie, he barely noticed the heat, or even the smell of metal and oils, anymore. Young men often seemed to have terrible attention spans these days, but Boros was in good hands; Darius’s crew was the best on the shift.

Further down, Kaz, a lean muscled Orc, slammed the enormous barrel with a number two tempering hammer, sending up a spray of sparks. The noise was often compared to that of a great bell, but flat and ugly. It reminded Darius more of the arena, the sound of arms clashing and blows glancing off armour. Despite not having the Gift, which would allow him to sense magic directly, Darius could feel the discharge from Kaz’s hammer and the aura of Boros’s sun-rod. After working in the foundries for fifteen years, he was exceptionally sensitive to the magics used there. It was one of the qualities that made him so good at his job.

Intense concentration was another. Without even glancing at the brass shift-clock, he knew that they had just over an hour left to finish this gun barrel. He did not trust any of the third-quarter-shift crews to finish their work. The pride of a master workman drove him to see the job through to the finish.

But Darius’s mind wandered, for just a moment, as he started to think about his plans after the shift. He was taking his daughter Rose to the Grand Arena tonight. A thrill of excitement coursed through him. As he pushed his thoughts aside, he caught Kaz looking at him, tusks twitching with a suppressed grin, as he pushed his thoughts aside. Somewhat embarrassed, Darius shrugged. It wasn’t like him to lose focus. All in due time.

The sun-rod sizzled. The hammer struck. The great gun settled into its final shape, ready to be mounted on one the colossal new war-ships of the Domains of the Chosen.

 o—–o

 Predictably, Harlson stalked into their work area as Darius’s shift came to an end. Ever since Darius had intervened to prevent Kaz from being transferred to Harlson’s crew, the third-quarter shift sub-foreman saw him as an enemy. Darius had viewed it as a favour to an old friend, but Harlson had seen it as interference and he now took every opportunity to snipe at them. Somehow their area made it into his `random’ inspections almost every day.

The whip-thin man began inspecting their work. No doubt Harlson knew what today meant to Darius, and thus took extra care, and spent extra time, inspecting the barrel for flaws. Darius sent the rest of the crew to the showers, but did not risk leaving his nemesis alone with the cannon. Harlson wouldn’t dare to find a fake fault in the gun with him watching.

The big man suppressed a snarl as Harlson ran his fingers along the barrel with a gloved hand. Harlson had no business picking on his crew. Their work was top tier, better than anything he could do. Besides how could someone be so clean working in a place like this?

Eventually even Harlson had to give up and sign off on the gun. Darius smiled absently; if Harlson could not find fault with it, it was definitely worthy.

Harlson looked at Darius as he passed, flashing perfectly white teeth in a vicious approximation of a smile.

“I just watched Lord Peerless hit twenty-eight points in the Faction Challenge today,” he drawled. “Think your Reds can beat that score?”

Darius forced himself to be calm. Harlson was slick and he did not want to be tricked. Twenty-eight points was an impressive score however. “Maybe,” he said, hating how faithless he sounded.

“Care to make a wager?” said Harlson, eyes glinting. “A week’s wage?”

“No,” said Darius. He felt himself deflate. He could not afford a wager like that. He had saved for months just for the tickets to tonight’s match. Even though he knew it was the wiser course of action, he still felt like a traitor and a coward for backing down; a good Red never backed down from a Blue.

“I didn’t think so. You Reds are all bluster when it comes down to it,” Harlson smirked, and he began to walk away, leaving Darius staring at the ground, fists clenched.

“I’ll take that bet, Harlson,” said Kaz, startling them both. The Orc grinned, as he reached for a cap on a peg at the entrance to their workshop. “Can’t leave this behind.”

“Your loss, workman,” sneered Harlson. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.”

 o—–o

Darius made a point of thanking Kaz in front of the rest of the crew. Smiling outwardly, he was deeply worried about the bet. Kaz had wagered a full week’s wages to save face for Darius and spite Harlson, but twenty-eight points was a hard score to beat in singles. Even ‘the Executioner’ would have trouble matching that. He would pass some money to Kaz’s wife if the bet was lost; Reds stick together.

 o—–o

 Rose sat in the kitchen waiting for Darius. An intelligent child, she knew why he was late; she had overheard her father mention the name Harlson to her mother many times when he was late. Harlson was a bad man to keep her father like this, especially on their special day. When she pictured her father’s antagonist, he was a monster in her mind’s eye, his personal failings matched by a warped appearance. She had once read that a fair form could conceal a foul mind, but she wasn’t sure of this.

Her mother, Melia, watched Rose out of the corner of her eye. She had prepared a hero’s feast for her husband and their only child, but Darius was late. They would not have time to eat at. Melia had guessed, however, that Darius’s ‘work problem’ might crop up again today. Thinking ahead, when she had left the small, busy restaurant that was one of her passions in life, she had taken some travelling containers.

Melia was conflicted about their nine year old daughter going to the arena. The Great Games were the very soul of patriotism and culture throughout the Empire, and almost all parents who could afford to brought their children on a regular basis. But the violence and the bloodshed had never sat well with Melia. Perhaps it was because she had been raised in a small town, with less early exposure to the Arena. The Games meant so much to Darius though.

Melia knew that her dislike of the Great Games, a centuries old tradition, marked her as an oddity in the Empire. She often hid it from strangers; it might be bad for the restaurant if people knew. Fortunately it did not cause friction with her husband, even though he was an avid fan. She felt lucky to have such an understanding partner.

Rose, through intuition more than perception, stood and opened the door for her father. He smiled down at her her; she was dressed up as her favoured Gladiatrix, the formidable Red Scorpion. With an eye for detail surprising in a child, Rose had asked Melia for pointed ears and a glamour that made her green eyes look deep purple. She had paid for it by helping at Melia’s restaurant, and had hidden it from her father to surprise him.

“There’s my Champion,” said Darius, face lighting up. “My, you look proper fierce, my girl!”

Rose smiled savagely, whirling her imitation blades. Darius was proud of how well his little girl wore the red. Though he was glad that Rose showed no sign of having the Gift, he could not help but think that she would have made a good Gladiatrix, perhaps even a Chosen.

Darius patted Rose on the head and stepped into the kitchen, looking sheepishly at Melia. His eyes always found her in any room, no matter where she stood. Smiling and shaking her head gently, Melia denied that his lateness was his responsibility; she knew him well. The food, packed and ready for travel was in Darius’s hands before he could protest.

“You don’t have time, go go go!” Melia said, taking a moment to plant a kiss on his lips and throw her arms around a squirming Rose. In truth she was glad they were in a rush; a long dinner might allow her discomfort to show. Guilt washed over her; the arena was a fact of life, why couldn’t she just enjoy it instead of burdening her loved ones so?

“Have fun, you two!” she called after the pair as they passed out of their little yard onto the street, trying to sound excited for their sake. She was glad that she had saved this quarter-years taxes to do tonight; it would keep her mind off the arena.

–Yeah, the fighting comes after this bit.

Teaser Tuesday

Bloodlust: The Great Games, a short story I wrote for the holiday will be published on Friday, Dec 20th. I expect it will clear through Amazon late on Friday, unless their website runs into a Christmas backlog. As promised here is the last teaser for the short story.

After the cheerleaders sauntered from the fighting grounds, a stately man took his place in the box reserved for the Master of Ceremonies. Rose immediately recognized him from some of the matches she had seen on link crystal. Quintus diKrass, dressed in the traditional white robe, albeit with a red sash for this occasion, lifted an intricately carved ceremonial staff, the torch of Krass, above his head. The staff flashed like the sun as he motioned. The crowd grew quiet.

“Hail friends,” said Quintus, smiling, his warm gaze taking in the crowd. He spoke his first words slowly, without raising his deep, cultured voice above a conversational tone, yet everyone heard him intimately. “HAIL REDS!”

I know it is technically wrong to write shouting in ALL CAPS, but it just works for me; hate if you want. Quintus diKrass is a character that appears in Bloodlust: Will to Power, ever so briefly, as I attempted to flesh out the arena a little more. Mr diKrass would be the Ron Maclean of the Great Games, one of those veteran sport’s announcers who lends a sense of dignity to the proceedings. Much better than Baron Bones and Chloe diSilk from the Death-Leagues, at any rate…

Coming on Dec 20th to Amazon.

Spoiler Alert: Smaug, Bilbo, Thorin, Legolas, and Peter Jackson’s Mary Sues.

The Return of the Elf

I watched the Hobbit today with my Girlfriend and her seven year old son. I enjoyed it for the most part. The action was superb, the casting was excellent, and despite the insane length (2 hrs, 41 mins), it kept everyone’s attention. All things considered I would say it is worth watching, especially if you have children who are fans of the series or are budding geeks. On the other hand if you know any Tolkien purists, do not go to the movie with them — they may explode.

Aside from its prodigious length, the series has a few issues which were exacerbated in this film. The vaunted and feared addition of Evangeline Lilly actually did not really spoil the movie, at least for me. To discuss my feelings about Mr Jackson’s latest Tolkien film will require me to withdraw into spoiler alert land. Do not read them until you have watched the movie.

I would recommend the movie to any fan of epic fantasy who is not a Tolkien purist.

>>>>>SPOILER ALERT<<<<<

The heart of the novelization of the hobbit is a series of three conversations. Bilbo and Golem with the riddle game, Bilbo waking and encountering Smaug in the Lonely Mountain, and Bilbo and Thorin at the end of the book. Mr Jackson’s screen adaptations have done an excellent job on these thus far. The riddle game was awesome. If anything the interaction between Smaug and Bilbo is even better, perhaps because Martin Freeman and Benedict Cumberbatch have worked together before. That chemistry really shines through despite the fact that Smaug is not only computer generated, but his facial features aren’t human either. If Mr Jackson can manage to clinch that third conversation in the last movie I will find it impossible to hate his adaptations.

Unfortunately Thorin is, thus far, poorly written and wrongly directed. I don’t place the blame on Richard Armitage here; I know he can be charismatic when allowed. Unfortunately Thorin comes off as petulant and unlikable, especially in the scenes that Jackson adds. I feel that Mr Jackson is trying to go for an Aragorn vibe with Thorin, but he ends up being too gruff and not showing enough heart. If the dramatic finish to the movie is to have any real power then Thorin will have to be better in movie number three. It all hinges on those few words between Thorin and Bilbo at this point, at least for me.

Mr Jackson adds a lot of fluff to the series in this second movie. I feel he stretches it too thin, even with the epic action scenes. Very little happens that justify a two hour and fourty one minute movie that ends in a cliff-hanger. However, since it was action, and gave me some fun ideas for games and writing, I can forgive this.

Some of Mr Jackson’s visualizations really annoy me. I really hated his version of the giants throwing rocks in the mountains in the first movie, for example — it reminded me of a theme park attraction rather than the myth-building moment that it was in the books. I’d rather more care be spent on giving each dwarf a bit of personality than a unique look. Still, I feel those crazy visualzations were toned down in this second instalment — you don’t need to go overboard for colossal action when Smaug is on the prowl. The only offenders are run-on action scenes. An improvement I’d say.

Some of the embellishments are just plain wierd. Instead of the black arrow being an actual arrow passed down to Bard by his forebearers, that the archer regarded as lucky, it is now the last ballista bolt for an anti-dragon weapon  built by the dwarves for the men of Dale long ago. I can see that Mr Jackson is trying to add a sense of drama here by having Bard’s forefather using the previous bolts (er black arrows) creating Smaug’s weakspot, and then never getting time to take the last shot. Bard is out to redeem the family name. It felt unnecessary. Bard had plenty of motive for killing Smaug in the books, and I like that Bilbo found the Dragon’s weak-spot and the thrush told Bard. The worst part about this whole scene is how Thorin comes off as an utter asshole, actually using Bard’s story and his family’s legacy of failure against him at one point. Not a good addition. Thorin needs to be more redeemable.

Mr Jackson’s character additions remain the worst part of the series. Evangeline Lilly was an exception to this. She kicked ass, but was not a scene stealer. She also added a feminine presence to the movie and the action scenes, something that was arguably lacking in the original tale. I didn’t even mind her romance with Kili, which may have to carry the third movie if Mr Jackson can’t get that key interaction between Thorin and Bilbo down. In fact, alone out of all of the add-on characters in this movie, she helped make one of the Dwarves, Kili, seem more interesting and dramatic. The other additions all flew screaming into fan fiction territory. I will deal with them in order.

Azog the Defiler: Azog keeps becoming more and more important. I don’t see why. He has no personality whatsoever. The only thing that distinguishes him from other orcs is his unique appearance and combat prowess. In the first movie he kicks the crap out of Thorin. In this movie he challenges Gandalf — seriously? Azog adds nothing to the movies. Why give the orcs faces and names if they all have the same personality? Azog is another potential problem character in the third movie — I suspect he will deliver the fatal wound to Thorin, a feat which he is not worthy of. Azog is a classic Mary Sue — an invention of the director placed in another author’s works who seems to get more and more powerful, bashing down established characters.
Bolg: Azog is called to muster, so he sends his Lieutenant, Bolg, to deal with Thorin. Bolg is another orc with a unique appearance, but no personality.  In everything but appearance he is exactly interchangeable with Azog. He hates dwarves, but so do all the other orcs. He does kick ass though, rampaging through the Elven Part of Mirkwood and living to tell the tale and also going toe to toe with Legolas and actually surviving to escape. He is actually the only character in the series to make Legolas bleed a bit, something that apparently deserved a closeup and some screen time. Again, another super-powerful character added by the director for no good reason beyond visualization.

The worst character addition in the second Hobbit movie is actually an old favourite from the Lord of the Rings series: Orlando Blood returning as Legolas. In the first trilogy Legolas is a scene stealer, but this is forgivable since he is part of the story and presented as quite awesome. Last time I checked however, Legolas wasn’t in the Hobbit, and he certainly wasn’t the main part of the action. Stealing a scene you are supposed to be in is one thing, stealing scenes you aren’t mean to be in is an egregious offence on the part of Mr Jackson.

The barrel escape from the elves turns into a running action scene in the movie as orcs attack the barrels in the river. The Dwarves show great resourcefulness and wonderful teamwork in the first part of this scene, in what amounts to a creative and fun fight scene that lets the dwarves shine as a company. Sadly it is immediately overshadowed as Legolas shows up and makes the whole group of dwarves, who seemed awesome a heartbeat ago, seem like lackluster amateurs. At one point he even fells a squad of orcs while standing on the faces of two the dwarves as their barrels race down the river, which more or less sums up the whole scene for me. Legolas steals scenes at the expense of the Dwarves. I hate this. I disliked that Jackson reduced Gimli to comic relief in most of the first trilogy, I hate that Legolas outshines the Dwarves in their own story, which he is not even supposed to be in.
Legolas in the Hobbit movies is a terrible Mary Sue. He excels at everything he does, and really steals every action scene. In the Rings movies his prowess was countered by the fact that Mr Jackson was *mostly* held to adapting scenes that were actually in the books. Not so now, where he gets scenes written more or less for him! I really dread what Mr Jackson in going to do with him in the final adaptation. Again, this not Orlando Bloom’s fault, if anything a bit of age has made him a better Legolas — it is the way the character is inserted into the script at the cost to other characters that were originally there. Mary Sue, Mary Sue, Mary Sue. Bard was supposed to be the archer of this set. UGH!

Perhaps the best way to sum it up is this. When we left the movie, the young lad I was with was leaping off snowbanks, shooting his imaginary bow and arrows at imaginary orcs. No doubt he was like Legolas firing at Azog and Bolg, in his imaginary mindscape. But I had to agree with my girlfriend when she thought it was sad that he wasn’t pretending to be any of the dwarves.

What I get out of this is that ff you have to add characters to modernize or expand a great work, fine, but don’t do so at the cost of the characters that are already there.

Nomads 9

Link to last week’s nomads, link to the first nomads.

“Found it,” Sunspear’s excited shout came out over vocals. I started moving towards her; Sunspear only sounds that excited on mission when she’s got a good kill lined up.

“Found what?” asked Scorch, using coms.

“The other CI bug,” said Sunspear. “You have to see this, Raven.”

“Alright,” I said. “Scorch, Malificent, take the cryopod over to the shuttle before Otumo bursts a blood vessel. Triumph and Shrike cover them. We’ll meet you at the dropship. Sphinx, you’re with me.”

Tactical buzzed with affirmatives.

Sphinx and I made our way through the rubble, little more than scorched stone decorated with chunks of chitin at this point. I’m told that the smells of the battlefield, particularly scourge remains, were one of the worst aspects of fighting.  Thank Fleet for Nomad air systems, I suppose. Sunspear was standing a little beyond thechunks of the Wallbreaker we had cut up to get at the cryopod. She was looking at one of the brutes, the tough  thick-bodied scourge forms that were cut down trying to escape with the pod.

Sunspear wears a medium class Nomad suit, a heavy modified Shiva type. The Shiva has the distinction of being the only suit to have stealth systems that is not a light. Although it is too heavy to move silently it has full camouflage capabilities. With decent ECM support it can go virtually undetected. Being a medium class allows it to carry heavier weapons. Usually, a single heavy energy weapon, held in the hands. The Shiva suit is mediocre in most performance categories: speed, armour, shields, jump, and such. It does stand out in one other respect — the generator is second to none. Even heavier suits cannot match the Shiva’s reactor performance. All of this extra energy means that this little suit can power some serious energy weapons. Shiva users are superstitious about their reactors, attributing odd properties to them such as making the beamers hotter or plasma bolts more accurate. I never too stick in these, but the mystique of the suit is well deserved, all efforts to replicate that exceptional reactor design have ended in disappointment.

Sunspear’s modifications sacrificed some armour, for better jets. This, coupled with the powerful reactor, allowed her a great deal of additional mobility, even limited flight.

“Well?” I asked Sunspear as we came up beside her.

“I recognize this one,” said Sunspear. “After I shot the CI, this brute tried to cover it up. I recognize it from the killshot — clear through the head without taking it off. I can see something underneath. Pretty sure that it is the Ci.”

“I see how it is,” I said. “Leave the lifting to the heavies. I want you two to stand back and cover me. If anything moves scorch it — my shields will be at max.”

I shifted extra energy to my shields and moved in. Energy crackled against chitin as I grabbed one of the brutes legs with one hand and then found another handhold on a ridge on its back. I heaved. For a moment I thought that I wouldn’t be able to lift it, but with a jerk it shifted off the ground. Readings showed just over five tonnes. I heaved upwards and tossed it to the side. Hopefully the ladies would be impressed.

“What the fuck!?!” said Sphinx.

“That’s just…” said Sunspear.

I turned. The thing at my feet, Sunspear’s IC, looked like a cross between a human being and a scourge form. Like a man it had two legs, two arms, and a human-like head — the top of which had been blown off. However instead of skin it was covered in purple chitin with sharp mandibles for a mouth. I felt the hairs on the back of my neck rising as primitive, instinctual revulsion took hold. This thing looked like something out of pre-diapora folklore, a nightmare given life.

“Sphinx, take some pictures and check them against all available data, including unverified and speculative; see if anyone has seen anything like this before.” I said, burying my feelings. “Sunspear, its your turn to get up close and personal. Get some good samples for analysis. You’re sure this is it?”

“Yeah…,” she said, shaking her head. “It was definitely bipedal, I’m just shocked at how… human, but not human it looks… if that makes any sense.”

“It does,” I said. “But if anyone else asks, I’m just going to claim it was noetic.”

Sunspear knelt beside the broken body of the CI. She took a small sample kit from one of her drones and began to make incisions and fill syringes with fluid. Any data from a controlling intelligence is valuable to fleet, this was doubly so because it was from some new form.

“I have a few data hits.” said Sphinx. “Two unconfirmed sightings. One by refugees from colony TauZerg9KX, who give a verbal description that is a 95% match. Another is from a Nomad Kill cam during a hive breach five years ago. 93% match. They sighted it just before they set charges — the Nomad in question popped it without even realizing what he was shooting at. Both reports also contain reference to these brute things. Apparently they act as bodyguards.”

“Tie them to our report,” I said, I heard a rumble in the distance and watched as the shuttle took wing.  ”Fleet will want to hear about this. You done Sunspear.”

“I have as much as I can get from this specimen,” she said.

“Alright, lets head to the dropship,” I said. “Triumph, are the bodies loaded?”

“Roger Raven,” said Triumph. “All Nomads accounted for. Who was last on Dropship logistics duty?”

“Jessup, I think,” I said. “Why?”

Triumph chuckled. “I hate to speak ill of the dead, Raven, but that lazy bastard didn’t restock the drones.”

We all laughed then, a much needed easing of tension. But, something bothered me about the drones.

Teaser Tuesday

Here is my second to last teaser for Bloodlust: The Great Games

Tall and athletic, Fiona moved with predatory grace as she strode across the white sand to the middle of the fighting grounds. Red hair, spiked, gave the impression of a phalanx of bloody spears erupting from her head. Pale green eyes raked the crowd as the Gladiatrix’s mouth twisted into a playful snarl. The viewing enchantments on the arena were so powerful that Rose and Darius could make out the freckles on her pale skin.

The idea behind the viewing enchantments is that they allow the spectators to see the action more clearly, focusing on distant details far better than the unenchanted eye. In Bloodlust: A Gladiator’s Tale I noted that arena enhancements also highlighted magic use for the audience and helped them keep track of invisible creatures. These enchantments like have all sort of uses in artifice and alchemy, and technological progress in the Domains.

I’m looking forward to hearing back from people on the short story

Fantasy World-Building: The Kirif

Pillar Coral. Picture these the size of a fifty story building to get an idea of the spires of Kirif.

As I delve deep into my third book (wow), I find myself at a juncture where I am expanding upon the world. Much of Warbound: The Shield Maiden takes place beyond the borders of the Domains of the Chosen, on the “lost continent” of Ithal’Duin. I am going to share some of my initial 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.

Goals: Ithal’Duin and Kirif

My starting point in this endeavour, other than the world I have created thus far, is to outline a few goals for each civilization and the continent as a whole. Some of these are based on flavour and history, while others are very, very story driven. I will share some of my original goals regarding the civilization of Kirif on Ithal’Duin.

History [general goal] All of the civilizations on Ithal’Duin 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 Ithal’Duin is to create something more exotic.
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. On Ithal’Duin I want to explore more alien realms, where people learned to live with the wild magic.
Motive [Kirif goal] Kirif is the friendly realm on Ithal’Duin; a society that seeks to ally itself with the Domains. They are willing to cede territory to one of the Chosen and act as a base of operations on the continent.
Appearance [Kirif goal] I want Kirif to be a beautiful, trade oriented society with a style of architecture and cultural traits that are immediately striking.
Politics [Kirif goal] I don’t want Kirif to be a monoculture. The Domains (and the Wyrn) are the grindstone of my world. I also need a fair bit of internal and external strife for story reasons.
Language [Kirif goal] I want the language of Kirif to be a little wierd.

Outline of The Spires of the Kirif

This is a very general outline of Kirif, each point corresponding to a goal above. I realize that this takes a lot out of the romance of world-building, but it is meant only to be a general overview. For me, the real world-building is in the details that I “discover” during the writing, hence I prefer to go in with a strong outline, but leave space for growth.

History [general goal] Kirif is made up of refugees who took shelter in a series of sub-tropical coastal caves during the worst of the Reckoning. These caves were close enough to water that the people could survive by sneaking out to fish, hunt, and gather. They would have been reduced to basic subsistence if not for magic; eventually they learned a form of symbiotic biomancy that allowed them to gain control over their environment, such as a type of coral and some fungus that were changed by the reckoning. Kirifan magic is thus very specialized and not nearly as powerful as the magic of the Domains. However it is so evolved that the species that are in symbiosis with the Kirif respond to those who do not have the gift. Almost all Kirif bond with a parasite that breathes underwater for them.
Alien Flavour [general goal] The Reckoning changed the Kirif. They have odd eyes and their skin is covered in tiny scales, giving them a slightly reptilian look. Most Kirif have very loose kinship bonds, based around their Spire. Children are raised communally by the spire and basic family structure is replaced by relation to the King and Queen of the spire. Those who have no spire make up an undercaste and are always clamouring for new territory.
Motive [Kirif goal] The Kirif are powerful, but they are surrounded by many enemies. The coral with which they build their cities is slow to adapt to new areas, while their Allegiance with the Domains gives them an ally who can support them against the rest of the continent, and also change the internal political balance in Kirif. They value trade and are hungry for friends, but also understand the need for might if they wish to grow. The don’t understand land warfare, particularly attack and siege warfare, nearly to the extent of the Domains.
Appearance [Kirif goal] The Kirif created their own Islands by manipulating the growth of coral and fungus. Eventually they learned to grow huge Spires and shape them into buildings and even fortifications. They are like coral skyscrapers now. These Spires became central to their culture and organization, similar to the castle of a noble house. The Spires have “Kings and Queens”, Bloodlines with whom the symbiotic coral are most attuned to, giving them tremendous power within their home. Individually their clothing is meant to be worn in and out of water and mostly consists of bathing suits. Their is less of a nudity taboo, which is not unusual for sub-tropical coastal cultures, and might heat up the story a bit. They love jewelry and consider beauty and art to be of great import. Also they have carnivorous guard dolphins who have rights similar to the Spireless.
Politics [Kirif goal] The Spires are at odds with each other. This is partly based on the strains of coral that each spire is based on. As the coral spreads and grows it comes into conflict with other spires. Wars can occur and some Spires can be destroyed for forced to move. Those without spires are always seeking to start new spires, but the spires gang up to stop them and keep space for themselves.
Language [Kirif goal]  Kirif has basic words can be spoken underwater, it includes unusual sounds like chirping sounds designated by * and clacks designated with a !. To the people of the Domains it sounds like singsong gibberish.
Most importantly, the Kirif have a very different attitude to the magic and the Gift, at least to start off

Nomads 8

Link to Nomads 1, Link to Nomads 7

Captain Otumo buzzed insistently over coms, seeking communication. I had not turned off combat protocol yet, I was not yet ready to move on. First Leopard, Jessup, and now Nova and Quake. A kind of numbness was creeping over me, a profound apathy in the aftermath of battle. A nomad suit can regulate the wearers physical responses to battle, including the adrenaline crash and fatigue, but it is not designed to help cope with the mental shocks. Three Nomads had died today. Three people under my command.

“You coping Raven?” Triumph said, he was close enough to use vocals. He sounded tired.

“I’m still standing,” I said.

“I’ll handle burial detail,” said Triumph. “You don’t need this right now.”

“Its my fault,” I said, crumbling.

“Bugshit,” said Triumph. “You had no control over how Jessup went down; hell, that old bastard never listened to anyone even on the best of days. Quake and Nova were unlucky.”

“It was my bad call that put them in that position,” I said.

“Nobody expected a serious fight on this outing,” said Triumph. “Two directing intelligences is unheard of in an engagement of this size. I’ve never heard of one being used as bait. We will morn our fallen, as we must. We will learn from what went wrong, as we must. But don’t blame yourself: if you hadn’t stood up and pushed back on those bloody creepers when you did more of us would have died. That risk kept them off of us long enough to turn the tide.Think on that.”

“You’re right,” I said. “I’ll save the self pity and introspection for downtime.”

“Damn right, I’ll bring the whiskey,” said Triumph. “Now, I sent half the squad over to secure a landing area for the shuttles. Everyone else is clearing their way to that bunker. Sunspear swears the unknown director was bipedal, which could be interesting.  Otumo is raising hell on secondary channels, you will need to deal with him sooner rather than later.”

“Thanks,” I said. I’d seen the unidentified Scourge form through my seeker drone; Sunspear wasn’t wrong.

I switched coms to standard protocol as I moved through the ruins toward the bunker. I remained alert, there are always strays after and encounter with the scourge, but there were no nasty surprises waiting for me in the shadows this time. Otumo’s voice roared through my personal coms channel as soon as we connected.

“… highly irregular,” he spat, I could easily picture the man’s glower. “As captain I must be kept apprised of all developments regarding important cargo–”

“I just lost three Nomads down here,” I said. “The cargo really doesn’t interest me at the moment Captain.”

“Nomad Raven,” said Otumo. “A cryopod containing a human survivor from another part of the diaspora fleet is a find of tremendous importance. Casualties are well within acceptable limits for a find of this magnitude; I will make sure Fleet Command knows you were acting in that knowledge. You won’t suffer any repercussions.”

I was struck dumb for a moment. Otumo didn’t seem to care about the dead. He was focused on the damned cryopod. Objectively, he was right. A find like this could give us access to new ideas and technological advancements. It might even lead us to contact with another Fleet. I couldn’t even imagine what that would bring. It was a glorious find. Worst of all, however, was that he seemed to think that I was more worried about blame than I was about the deaths of my squad. He took my silence as an acquiescence to his continued speech.

“Bring the cryopod to the shuttle,” he said. “I’ve fitted it with stabilizers and a power field to make sure it does not take any further damage from transit. The dropship is for your squad. Understood?”

“Understood,” I said. I swore under my breath, the man did not show any concern for the ordeal we had just endured. I wonder if he even knew the names of the fallen. I put it out of my mind. Otumo’s lack of human emotion was nothing new.

The bunker was ankle deep in bug gore, which made me feel a little better. Some tribalistic part of me still revels in things like vengeance. Sphinx, Shrike, and Sunspear were in the process of cutting up and lifting a Wallbreaker corpse that had fallen on top of the cryopod. A quick scan told me that the pot was still intact.

“Any sign of your mystery bug?” I asked Sunspear.

“None,” she said. “But this pace is a mess.”

“We do have an intact carcass of one of the brutes, Raven,” said Sphinx eagerly. “Its like a mini Wallbreaker, but it projects a kind of radial shield that protects other scourge.”

“Like a bodyguard?” I asked.

“More or less,” said Shrike.

“Lovely,” I said. “Bloody scourge are learning new tricks.”

We cut the Wallbreaker into chunks. The thick carapace was nearly as tough as armour grade steel alloy. We were careful to keep an eye out while we did so. We’d all heard the old Nomad horror stories about living scourge popping out of dead ones. We worked in silence. Even Sphinx was subdued.

Another one of the brutes was huddled near the cryopod underneath. Tough as metal, it still had some life left in it as well cleared the debris despite being punctured by beamer fire. Shrike fragged it at point blank as it tried to get up, splashing bug goo everywhere just as the shuttle crew arrived. I struggled to keep myself from chuckling as the poor shuttle engineers were splattered with innards.

We loaded the cryopod onto a gravity effect vehicle. As we secured it with magnetic clamps, I heard Sunspear give an excited shout.

“Found it!”