It was the end of May when the farmer determined to be no longer repulsed by trivialities or distracted by suspense. He had by this time grown used to being in love; the passion now startled him less even when it tortured him more, and he felt himself adequate to the situation. On inquiring for her at her house they had told him she was at the sheep-washing, and he went off to seek her there.
The sheep-washing pool was a perfectly circular basin of brickwork in the meadows, full of the clearest water. To birds on the wing its glassy surface, reflecting the light sky, must have been visible for miles around as a glistening Cyclops' eye in a green face. The grass about the margin at this season was a sight to remember long—in a minor sort of way. Its activity in sucking the moisture from the rich damp sod was almost a process observable by the eye. The outskirts of this level water-meadow were diversified by rounded and hollow pastures, where just now every flower that was not a buttercup was a daisy. The river slid along noiselessly as a shade, the swelling reeds and sedge forming a flexible palisade upon its moist brink. To the north of the mead were trees, the leaves of which were new, soft, and moist, not yet having stiffened and darkened under summer sun and drought, their colour being yellow beside a green—green beside a yellow. From the recesses of this knot of foliage the loud notes of three cuckoos were resounding through the still air.
Boldwood went meditating down the slopes with his eyes on his boots, which the yellow pollen from the buttercups had bronzed in artistic gradations. A tributary of the main stream flowed through the basin of the pool by an inlet and outlet at opposite points of its diameter. Shepherd Oak, Jan Coggan, Moon, Poorgrass, Cain Ball, and several others were assembled here, all dripping wet to the very roots of their hair, and Bathsheba was standing by in a new riding-habit—the most elegant she had ever worn—the reins of her horse being looped over her arm. Flagons of cider were rolling about upon the green. The meek sheep were pushed into the pool by Coggan and Matthew Moon, who stood by the lower hatch, immersed to their waists; then Gabriel, who stood on the brink, thrust them under as they swam along, with an instrument like a crutch, formed for the purpose, and also for assisting the exhausted animals when the wool became saturated and they began to sink. They were let out against the stream, and through the upper opening, all impurities flowing away below. Cainy Ball and Joseph, who performed this latter operation, were if possible wetter than the rest; they resembled dolphins under a fountain, every protuberance and angle of their clothes dribbling forth a small rill.
Boldwood came close and bade her good morning, with such constraint that she could not but think he had stepped across to the washing for its own sake, hoping not to find her there; more, she fancied his brow severe and his eye slighting. Bathsheba immediately contrived to withdraw, and glided along by the river till she was a stone's throw off. She heard footsteps brushing the grass, and had a consciousness that love was encircling her like a perfume. Instead of turning or waiting, Bathsheba went further among the high sedges, but Boldwood seemed determined, and pressed on till they were completely past the bend of the river. Here, without being seen, they could hear the splashing and shouts of the washers above. --Thomas Hardy
The Neo-PostModern Pulp-Fantasy Epic-Saga
Wednesday, July 8, 2015
Wednesday, December 17, 2014
Thursday, October 9, 2014
Thursday, September 25, 2014
Not in a million years
A few people have asked me about the unique world where Bella meets Jake. In the book, #3-Bella, there is quite a bit learned about the formation of that place. However, it is mostly from Bella’s viewpoint and from what she learns from casting her spells and interacting with the power-structures that hold the world together. There is no name for that world, although it does become known as Jake’s world, after he joins the Order and more people from there and other places in the multiverse visit it. The elves have a name for it, once they had discovered the lost tribe of their kin that had been moved there eons ago, but it is a long string of vowels and utterly unpronounceable.
One might call that world Tapestry, as it is one of the Map-Worlds. A place, not a planet, that was constructed by several thousand wizards 1.3 Million years before the events told of in the SmallPowers sagas. It was constructed with an idealized notion of a mega continent with two great nations, one east and one west. In the east, kingdoms of men. And in the west a kingdom of elves. Along the north and south edges were vast mountain ranges for the dwarves and the goblins. Around it an endless ocean that grew more turbulent the farther you went from the single continent. Sailing, flying, or spells of travel would not permit you to delve farther than a few weeks away and get to the edges and see that the world ended very abruptly.
It, the world, was the dream-world made real by the foundational wizards who constructed it, populated it, and set it in motion. And the dream was brilliant, for a very long time. But time does play its part, and time is a cruel master. For the first five hundred thousand years the place existed in the idealized framework envisioned by its creators. The kingdoms of men thrived, and generation after generation of them rose and fell in successions and cycles of both the great and the miserable. The elves, with the span of thousands, grew wiser and built great works of science and art that were unfathomable and enthralling. At some point, no one is quite sure when, but it was nearly the half million point, trolls emerged from the multiverse. With them came their sovereigns, the ogres. It has been suggested that the Titans had seen the place in their long treks through the multiverse and seeded a small colony of their pets. Others have said that the Titans, being evil, are delighted by sowing discord everywhere they go.
All the while, mountains crumbled and mountains rose along the north and south edges, depositing an endless refilling of the central east-west valley. The spells that created the place grew stronger and led to another race evolving. The Kentmen spawned out of the wizardly people of men. Their skin became blue and they learned to revere the land itself. The other peoples did not like the looks of the Kent, nor did they like the direction in social forms that they took. They grew to be shamans, rather than wizards, and they also grew to hate the other races. Elves, men, dwarves, goblins, and ogres were destructive to the land. None of them loved the world, they all used it like it had no value beyond what they could wrest out of it to put in their purses and dominate with their armies.
Another quarter million years would pass before anyone would notice that something had become a problem. Three quarters of a million years had passed since the creation, and there was a lack of any change, yet underneath there was stress building up. The creators, while wise and powerful they may have been, had not thought about how long the world would last and what pressures would build-up after thousands of years. What had been a center line of high hills midway between the east and west portions grew higher and then grew to mountains, distorting the whole structure. The lands of elves and men were soon, after a hundred thousand more years, were soon separated by a maze of new mountains. The dwarves found nothing to mine in these new mountains and the goblins found them to be too variable to build their homes among. The distortion was also reflected in the Kent, having emerged as a people of the world, the illness made them grow bellicose and violently antagonistic towards everyone else. Great wars between men, between elves, between all the races, filled the next hundred thousand years. History and social forms that had lasted for eons were ground into dust. Even the elves forgot the glorious past. Nine hundred thousand years of history were lost in that era. And all the while, the land grew more and more distorted, the end of the world was coming. Not quickly, it would be another three hundred thousand years before the stress pushed it all to the brink.
A survey wizard of the Order would visit it, about the time the western half of the continent had also become pushed up to high mountains, and he would see that if something was not done soon this world would destroy itself and all the people perish. By the time the file made its way through the council of the wise the place was clearly past any hope of saving. However, Nepheron had an ace up his sleeve, Bella. She, and some fellow questing wizards, had saved a world that was said to be equally beyond the point of saving. And so, he sent her there. In part to learn more about worlds that were truly doomed, but also from an abstract feeling he had that her destiny, and that of the future of the Order, was tied to this world in some obscure way.
One might call that world Tapestry, as it is one of the Map-Worlds. A place, not a planet, that was constructed by several thousand wizards 1.3 Million years before the events told of in the SmallPowers sagas. It was constructed with an idealized notion of a mega continent with two great nations, one east and one west. In the east, kingdoms of men. And in the west a kingdom of elves. Along the north and south edges were vast mountain ranges for the dwarves and the goblins. Around it an endless ocean that grew more turbulent the farther you went from the single continent. Sailing, flying, or spells of travel would not permit you to delve farther than a few weeks away and get to the edges and see that the world ended very abruptly.
It, the world, was the dream-world made real by the foundational wizards who constructed it, populated it, and set it in motion. And the dream was brilliant, for a very long time. But time does play its part, and time is a cruel master. For the first five hundred thousand years the place existed in the idealized framework envisioned by its creators. The kingdoms of men thrived, and generation after generation of them rose and fell in successions and cycles of both the great and the miserable. The elves, with the span of thousands, grew wiser and built great works of science and art that were unfathomable and enthralling. At some point, no one is quite sure when, but it was nearly the half million point, trolls emerged from the multiverse. With them came their sovereigns, the ogres. It has been suggested that the Titans had seen the place in their long treks through the multiverse and seeded a small colony of their pets. Others have said that the Titans, being evil, are delighted by sowing discord everywhere they go.
All the while, mountains crumbled and mountains rose along the north and south edges, depositing an endless refilling of the central east-west valley. The spells that created the place grew stronger and led to another race evolving. The Kentmen spawned out of the wizardly people of men. Their skin became blue and they learned to revere the land itself. The other peoples did not like the looks of the Kent, nor did they like the direction in social forms that they took. They grew to be shamans, rather than wizards, and they also grew to hate the other races. Elves, men, dwarves, goblins, and ogres were destructive to the land. None of them loved the world, they all used it like it had no value beyond what they could wrest out of it to put in their purses and dominate with their armies.
Another quarter million years would pass before anyone would notice that something had become a problem. Three quarters of a million years had passed since the creation, and there was a lack of any change, yet underneath there was stress building up. The creators, while wise and powerful they may have been, had not thought about how long the world would last and what pressures would build-up after thousands of years. What had been a center line of high hills midway between the east and west portions grew higher and then grew to mountains, distorting the whole structure. The lands of elves and men were soon, after a hundred thousand more years, were soon separated by a maze of new mountains. The dwarves found nothing to mine in these new mountains and the goblins found them to be too variable to build their homes among. The distortion was also reflected in the Kent, having emerged as a people of the world, the illness made them grow bellicose and violently antagonistic towards everyone else. Great wars between men, between elves, between all the races, filled the next hundred thousand years. History and social forms that had lasted for eons were ground into dust. Even the elves forgot the glorious past. Nine hundred thousand years of history were lost in that era. And all the while, the land grew more and more distorted, the end of the world was coming. Not quickly, it would be another three hundred thousand years before the stress pushed it all to the brink.
A survey wizard of the Order would visit it, about the time the western half of the continent had also become pushed up to high mountains, and he would see that if something was not done soon this world would destroy itself and all the people perish. By the time the file made its way through the council of the wise the place was clearly past any hope of saving. However, Nepheron had an ace up his sleeve, Bella. She, and some fellow questing wizards, had saved a world that was said to be equally beyond the point of saving. And so, he sent her there. In part to learn more about worlds that were truly doomed, but also from an abstract feeling he had that her destiny, and that of the future of the Order, was tied to this world in some obscure way.
Saturday, July 19, 2014
Riding towards doom.
Now available on Smashwords and other ebook systems.
Save 1.98 and get a preview of book nine.
Sunday, May 25, 2014
That's what she said.
The characters in the SmallPowers saga are quite diverse, and more than slightly strange.
Each of them have unique world-views and, for many of them, that view changes as time passes and the adventures bring new revelations. However, there are foundational attributes that reveal the inner motivations that drive each of them, and permits them to accomplish their purpose in life. That is helping save worlds from the horrors leading to the complete annihilation of universes. Non-existence is unacceptable, and they all strive to fend off the worst fates that can emerge in an infinite multiverse. This stridency can be noticed in the things they say. To that end, I have collected a list of key characters and a quote from each that illustrates this. I have also bolded the characters that star in a novel or short story, the others are supporting characters of importance.
Cindy: Stay behind me!
Squire Aresant: Don't get between the mage and the enemy!
Bella: I took them down too, in my own way.
Ronaldo: I am Ronaldo, of Faloncotte.
Sir Brendini: They didn't give me a chance, how many were there?
Manuel: Bloody hell!
Olivia: I think of the laws of the universe as recommendations.
Stella: I've been in one of those, it hurts, a lot.
Lakros: Horrid child, you should be beaten with sticks.
Grazzak: Good morning, is this an ambush?
Nepheron: Ultimate power is just the beginning.
Jake: Aye.
Goili: Come out with your hands up, or be dragged out with them chopped off, your choice.
Penta: There is evil, and then... there is me.
Hoonast: Good luck and bye!
Rock: To hell and back, it's what I do.
Beatrix: I didn't by this outfit to be out done by the wallpaper.
Rizz: Organization is the sign of a disturbed mind, and I am an expert at it.
Helmoz: They're administrators, they can't find their arses with a full committee to define what an arse is, and then they send someone else to find it.
Claire: Not in this bloody wind.
Kev: If it comes to that, I'll bring the boat-hook along with me this time.
The grand mistress: Total victory must be the sole objective of every member the Order.
Betkorn: ...lots and lots of sheep's blood.
Lorii: To battle!
Dash: After point three eight it is hard to tell the difference.
Bonny: Die more, you dick!
Ethan: Make one move and you all will regret it forever, twice.
Helga: I suggest you do as she says, she would do it, just to piss me off.
Jenny: Usually, they say 'urk'.
Fotlz and Tods: We came to kick the hell out -- All of it.
Each of them have unique world-views and, for many of them, that view changes as time passes and the adventures bring new revelations. However, there are foundational attributes that reveal the inner motivations that drive each of them, and permits them to accomplish their purpose in life. That is helping save worlds from the horrors leading to the complete annihilation of universes. Non-existence is unacceptable, and they all strive to fend off the worst fates that can emerge in an infinite multiverse. This stridency can be noticed in the things they say. To that end, I have collected a list of key characters and a quote from each that illustrates this. I have also bolded the characters that star in a novel or short story, the others are supporting characters of importance.
Cindy: Stay behind me!
Squire Aresant: Don't get between the mage and the enemy!
Bella: I took them down too, in my own way.
Ronaldo: I am Ronaldo, of Faloncotte.
Sir Brendini: They didn't give me a chance, how many were there?
Manuel: Bloody hell!
Olivia: I think of the laws of the universe as recommendations.
Stella: I've been in one of those, it hurts, a lot.
Lakros: Horrid child, you should be beaten with sticks.
Grazzak: Good morning, is this an ambush?
Nepheron: Ultimate power is just the beginning.
Jake: Aye.
Goili: Come out with your hands up, or be dragged out with them chopped off, your choice.
Penta: There is evil, and then... there is me.
Hoonast: Good luck and bye!
Rock: To hell and back, it's what I do.
Beatrix: I didn't by this outfit to be out done by the wallpaper.
Rizz: Organization is the sign of a disturbed mind, and I am an expert at it.
Helmoz: They're administrators, they can't find their arses with a full committee to define what an arse is, and then they send someone else to find it.
Claire: Not in this bloody wind.
Kev: If it comes to that, I'll bring the boat-hook along with me this time.
The grand mistress: Total victory must be the sole objective of every member the Order.
Betkorn: ...lots and lots of sheep's blood.
Lorii: To battle!
Dash: After point three eight it is hard to tell the difference.
Bonny: Die more, you dick!
Ethan: Make one move and you all will regret it forever, twice.
Helga: I suggest you do as she says, she would do it, just to piss me off.
Jenny: Usually, they say 'urk'.
Fotlz and Tods: We came to kick the hell out -- All of it.
Thursday, April 10, 2014
Of elves
The tales of elves are many and, as Thomas Keightley points out in his Fairy Mythology, they were originally of the same stature as those of men.
As time progressed, and tales of the many denizens of fairyland were compressed and retold, they shrunk to match the size of gnomes. JRR Tolkien took the elder path and made his elves in the classic mode, as seen in the oldest of tales. As had Shakespeare, although he too included the small folk in the list. The modern view of elves is fragmented. Almost every fantasy story seems to redefine the size and nature of the elf kind. I chose to take a classical view of the elves, but at the same time assumed that there were more kinds of elves in the multiverse that reflect all the tales.
There is a reason for this, and this entry. The next SmallPowers novel, the eighth in the saga, stars an elf of the stars. And here is a portion of the opening chapter of Lorii, which, with luck and persistence will be published and available for purchase very soon.
Chapter One: Rule and serve
It may be said that, the elves are not regular people.
It is said, often, and often in disparaging terms. It is also said that, there are more kinds of elves than elves. Some are no bigger than your hand and some are taller than the people of men, they are very diverse in form. Elves, the size of men, of many worlds, seem to take on attributes that the people of men associate with groupings of elves. And names for them have been coined. Wood elves of the forests are generally spoken of as being one type, the unparalleled bowmen and deft masters of crafts of astounding beauty. The plains and meadows leading to another, and spoken of as sylvanian or meadow, the entrancing ring dancers and cunning cavalry of unworldly speed and devastation. Gray elves of the mists, wise with hidden lore and wielding powers beyond the ken of lesser-mortals, and the courtly dark elves above them, resplendent and aloof, unseen and unknowable. Those not of elves think they have an idea, by this grouping, of what elves are and do. But most of it is not very accurate, and yet, not wrong in many ways. Wood elves are seen in forests, tree covered hills, and sometimes in the mountain trees. Much of what they have is made of wood. The meadow elves are seen in the plains and steppe tending to horses and harvesting grain. The gray elves do spend a large amount of time in a place that is gray, but they are even more rarely seen than the others are. Still rarer, are the high elves.
There are even more types of elves than that. Elves come in every shape and size. Some to the extent of designing themselves before they are even born, still others, the highest of the very high elves, before they make themselves. The elves known as the celestials, as some have spoken of them, are truly immortal and beyond explanation, but not to the point of obtuseness, they do manifest themselves and present a physical form. Participate in life and can create new life, or their own life again. Elves of the dark can do some of that, they are just slower and less able to fill in all the details, and reincarnation is less than reformation. Being flesh born, of elfmaiden and elflord, makes it a variable process, as it is for all that give birth. The very highest elves, however, may use the grotto. It is the sole privilege of the celestial that sets them apart from their peers of the dark. And much like the acceptance and reservations seen with in-vitro and ex-utero technologies, the elves vary in their opinions of the merits of it. Especially with the added result, of true immortality. Even a people as long-lived as the other elves are, they have some serious doubts about this idea. One aspect of that is that they use the grotto, which is where the dead go, their crypt, a repository to the remains of all of the greatest of them. Noble elves for the most part, but important elves of other tasks may have honour enough, to lay in state, and be absorbed into the gray-mist. The gray-mist being sort of an elvin limbo, although it is more like a walkway and abstract location between universes in practice. A generalized and infinite zone in between all the universes that they know about, a mushy, gray, and rather boring place. Inside it, eons and epochs in the past, some gray elves had constructed the grotto. A magical connection to all grottos, in each and every universe. And it has some awareness as a collective, as each grotto is constructed and endowed with essence, as needed by the gray elves, wherever any elves have migrated. The highest elves drift in and out of it with no regard for the slightly creepy aspect. It is as handy an emergence point as any other, and for the celestial, they don't see it as creepy. They see the grotto as a place of union, birth, and then reunion.
It does set them apart in elvin society to some extent. The other noble and royal elves of the dark see them as being a tribe of their own, and as very useful political allies that can hold for longer than others may. There is great power in having someone alive who remembers the issues agreed on, in the past, firsthand. Continuity, of purpose and position, is preserved by a living being who had personal experience. Many elvin communities rely on the immortal elves to embody their history and culture. The pinnacle of their communities, and as such, the wood elves, the lords of elves, see them as more of the dark and their masters. They do think the use of the grotto is questionable and nearly necromancy, although they do know it is not. For the meadow, there is more, they know the stars, under the big dome free from branches. They understand the one part that makes the celestial elves truly special. They are of the stars, each of them is a particular one. Not to any design or intent, just it takes a lot of power and essence to keep yourself physically in time, and out of it, at the same time. Which star is not important in most ways, the nearest unclaimed in the universe that you wish to emerge into is what you attach on in the gray-mist when forming yourself. They don't really have much more than that, to make them that unusual, as elves go. The creation of new elves is one small thing that is unique, they are sterile and do not inter-breed with others of their kin. They hold hands, and each releases a portion of their essences into the mist at the base of their grotto, and that is that. Somewhere, in the gray-mist, it will settle and then emerge as a new celestial elf. When it wants to.
As time progressed, and tales of the many denizens of fairyland were compressed and retold, they shrunk to match the size of gnomes. JRR Tolkien took the elder path and made his elves in the classic mode, as seen in the oldest of tales. As had Shakespeare, although he too included the small folk in the list. The modern view of elves is fragmented. Almost every fantasy story seems to redefine the size and nature of the elf kind. I chose to take a classical view of the elves, but at the same time assumed that there were more kinds of elves in the multiverse that reflect all the tales.
There is a reason for this, and this entry. The next SmallPowers novel, the eighth in the saga, stars an elf of the stars. And here is a portion of the opening chapter of Lorii, which, with luck and persistence will be published and available for purchase very soon.
Chapter One: Rule and serve
It may be said that, the elves are not regular people.
It is said, often, and often in disparaging terms. It is also said that, there are more kinds of elves than elves. Some are no bigger than your hand and some are taller than the people of men, they are very diverse in form. Elves, the size of men, of many worlds, seem to take on attributes that the people of men associate with groupings of elves. And names for them have been coined. Wood elves of the forests are generally spoken of as being one type, the unparalleled bowmen and deft masters of crafts of astounding beauty. The plains and meadows leading to another, and spoken of as sylvanian or meadow, the entrancing ring dancers and cunning cavalry of unworldly speed and devastation. Gray elves of the mists, wise with hidden lore and wielding powers beyond the ken of lesser-mortals, and the courtly dark elves above them, resplendent and aloof, unseen and unknowable. Those not of elves think they have an idea, by this grouping, of what elves are and do. But most of it is not very accurate, and yet, not wrong in many ways. Wood elves are seen in forests, tree covered hills, and sometimes in the mountain trees. Much of what they have is made of wood. The meadow elves are seen in the plains and steppe tending to horses and harvesting grain. The gray elves do spend a large amount of time in a place that is gray, but they are even more rarely seen than the others are. Still rarer, are the high elves.
There are even more types of elves than that. Elves come in every shape and size. Some to the extent of designing themselves before they are even born, still others, the highest of the very high elves, before they make themselves. The elves known as the celestials, as some have spoken of them, are truly immortal and beyond explanation, but not to the point of obtuseness, they do manifest themselves and present a physical form. Participate in life and can create new life, or their own life again. Elves of the dark can do some of that, they are just slower and less able to fill in all the details, and reincarnation is less than reformation. Being flesh born, of elfmaiden and elflord, makes it a variable process, as it is for all that give birth. The very highest elves, however, may use the grotto. It is the sole privilege of the celestial that sets them apart from their peers of the dark. And much like the acceptance and reservations seen with in-vitro and ex-utero technologies, the elves vary in their opinions of the merits of it. Especially with the added result, of true immortality. Even a people as long-lived as the other elves are, they have some serious doubts about this idea. One aspect of that is that they use the grotto, which is where the dead go, their crypt, a repository to the remains of all of the greatest of them. Noble elves for the most part, but important elves of other tasks may have honour enough, to lay in state, and be absorbed into the gray-mist. The gray-mist being sort of an elvin limbo, although it is more like a walkway and abstract location between universes in practice. A generalized and infinite zone in between all the universes that they know about, a mushy, gray, and rather boring place. Inside it, eons and epochs in the past, some gray elves had constructed the grotto. A magical connection to all grottos, in each and every universe. And it has some awareness as a collective, as each grotto is constructed and endowed with essence, as needed by the gray elves, wherever any elves have migrated. The highest elves drift in and out of it with no regard for the slightly creepy aspect. It is as handy an emergence point as any other, and for the celestial, they don't see it as creepy. They see the grotto as a place of union, birth, and then reunion.
It does set them apart in elvin society to some extent. The other noble and royal elves of the dark see them as being a tribe of their own, and as very useful political allies that can hold for longer than others may. There is great power in having someone alive who remembers the issues agreed on, in the past, firsthand. Continuity, of purpose and position, is preserved by a living being who had personal experience. Many elvin communities rely on the immortal elves to embody their history and culture. The pinnacle of their communities, and as such, the wood elves, the lords of elves, see them as more of the dark and their masters. They do think the use of the grotto is questionable and nearly necromancy, although they do know it is not. For the meadow, there is more, they know the stars, under the big dome free from branches. They understand the one part that makes the celestial elves truly special. They are of the stars, each of them is a particular one. Not to any design or intent, just it takes a lot of power and essence to keep yourself physically in time, and out of it, at the same time. Which star is not important in most ways, the nearest unclaimed in the universe that you wish to emerge into is what you attach on in the gray-mist when forming yourself. They don't really have much more than that, to make them that unusual, as elves go. The creation of new elves is one small thing that is unique, they are sterile and do not inter-breed with others of their kin. They hold hands, and each releases a portion of their essences into the mist at the base of their grotto, and that is that. Somewhere, in the gray-mist, it will settle and then emerge as a new celestial elf. When it wants to.
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