[Contains minor spoilers for Iffric’s Tale and some upcoming pieces; some people prefer to discover the background by reading the stories.]
There is widespread slavery in Artia. There are several kinds of slavery, and not all kinds are recognized in all regions—but a slave moving from one region to another stays a slave, just of a different sort. A slave is not generally thought of as being a person. The pronoun used is it rather than him or her; they are kept in cupboards, not stables or bedrooms—even if there is a bed in the room, it’s still referred to as a cupboard, a closet, somewhere things are stored. Slaves ar
Artia is a name for of one of the land masses on the Planet Collective. It’s a large continent with a varied climate. Most of the people use six compass directions, but i’ll use our own four directions here to be less confusing, especially as the directions aren’t always fixed. After all, the relative location of the countries turns out to be subjective and aso to vary through the course of the day.
Speaking of days, the length of the day varies by location. How can this be? Well, the Planet Collective is really six planets that occupy the same physical space but also each occupy another space. Two of them are slowly turnin
“Why do I always get the wrong book?”
Andrew padded on white-socked feet down the high-school study hall, pretending to himself he wasn’t hoping to glimpse Juliette.
“Still seeing her?” Phil was one of the science nerds, the sort Andrew despised.
“What’s it to you?” Andrew sneered.
“I… ” Phil’s face had gone white.
“Scared I’ll hit you again?”
“What… quick, get down!” Phil threw himself to the ground.
“No way, sucker,” but then he saw the mist. A thick fog numbed him, wrapped round them, plucked them away.
[Another story involving a male “slave” (voluntary servitude, through choice) waking up in 3019. Will he still be useful?]
I woke up groaning. Where I wanted to ask, what happened but when you’ve served as a slave for more than forty years you don’t talk out of turn. My head hurt.
“Male ninety-six. Adjplete.” The voice was neither male nor female: mechanical. “Jekdn. Psyjust.”
It was as if I was hearing every third syllable. But then my head started to clear. With it, the need to pee went away and I no longer felt hungry. I slept some more.
“How are you feeling?” The young ma
You have a nice and present personality in the way you write! Its fluid and consistent, like a joyous description of events, and characters with soul! Something i always had trouble to do !! The scenarios and the map you did create a harmonious context! like nothing is out-of-place! In my past approaches i try to think about all aspects of the new context: What are the beings described? how they speak? How do they make societies? How physics work in this context? And so on... And thats what was stopping me to write a good story! Thx for sharing your work! It sure inspired me to do more!
Thank you! Hmm, well, i have a lot of freckles myself. i do have a story with an orange-haired freckled boy but i haven't published it (which of the stories do you like? it's closest to "The Video Game" with a lot of cruelty and despair in it). The current story i'm working on is a follow-up to “Iffric’s Tale” and the characters mostly have brown or black skin. i could have given Rolgeth freckles i suppose.
A traveler, a writer, a player. You got me instantly with the Alcazar columns, unique as they are. Then, for photo of an alley in Seville. I will take some time to read your texts, good sir. You've got a very interesting and deliciously curious gallery. If I had a hat, it would be off to you.