Seven Reimagined, A new view of an old story Options

[SubRosa]

A while ago I wrote Seven, which is set in Tamriel. Afterward I thought about adapting it to an original setting. I did a lot of world-building, remade the characters to fit the new world, and got started into translating the story over.

I ran out of steam when I started looking at my over-arching direction, and started seeing some problems. The biggest one was that I had in mind a big High Fantasy story - an ancient race rising to destroy the world, champions rising from the dead, the army of light banding together to fight off evil, and so forth. The twist I planned to this standard format was that the protagonists were trying to stop the war, rather than win it. With finding a peace between all involved being the end goal, rather than destruction.

But the story I was starting out with - Seven - is Low Fantasy (at least the way I define it). Farmers and mercenaries vs. bandits. Ordinary people, with ordinary problems. I like that, as it feels very accessible, and makes the characters, even the extraordinary ones, feel more relateable. So that made me want to continue in that vein, and do a series of stories about a pair of hired spells who are part mercenaries, part private detectives. Sort of like Spenser For Hire or Magnum P.I. with magic. That in turn meant scrapping the entire over-arching story. Or trying to bridge the gap between Low Fantasy and High Fantasy. It left me with a lot of questions, and I was not feeling excited about the answers. So I ended up setting it all aside.

Instead of leaving it all collecting dust, I decided to post what I did finish up here. Maybe it will fire me up to get back to working on it again. People who have read Seven will recognize most of the main characters. Names have been changed in many cases. Some because the originals were Bethesda creations, others to suit the new races/languages. Speaking of which races and the like are entirely new, as is the geography, flora and fauna, how magic works etc... I will put some of that here in this post, and start the actual story in a second post. Let me know if you want to see more of the background notes, and I will put them in this post.


This is a world map

This is the continent of Aulerci, where most of the action takes place



Aela

Loria



The Stone Forest (IRL The Shilin Stone Forest outside of Kunming)

Another example of karst landscape


An Oro (IRL Orodromeus)

A Crumhead (IRL Parasaurolophus)

RL Troodon (the inspiration for the Teodon race)

Troodon front

Troodon head

Ancient Rasen Armor (IRL Samnite bronze armor)

Bronze lamellar armor

Bronze lamellar armor again


Veia Map

Rasen street

Rasen city

Rasen apartment block

Rasen-style architecture





Phereinon

Phereinon again

Malediction

Owl Screeching

Owl Carving





Serves Camna



Wooden mug

Tamac (tomahawk)



Raven pendant

Hrafngoelir

Hrafn's shield

Hrafn's seax


Venca



Rasen bedroom

Rasen bedroom 2

Rasen bedroom 3



Lorcras armor

Hagalaz rune




Horse-Powered Ferryboat 1

Horse-Powered Ferryboat 2

Spirecrown - Saurolophus Angustirostris





Lambeosaurus

Parksosaurus

Ornitholestes

Hadrosaurs 01

Hadrosaurs 02

Orodromeus

Gasparinisaura

Ouranosaurus

Maiasaura

Tropical Milkweed Beetle




Teodon Coloration (this is just what their scale colors look like, not actual representations of the characters)
Alcheon's coloration

Daehyun (a very common peasant coloration)

Dark Eye (though his belly is not so brightly white

Sindeok



Banyan tree

Durian tree

Bromeliads

Bamboo forest

Solagea


Kye Rim Graves

Teodon Dok

Teodon village house

Teodon village house



Earthen rampart, wall, and ditch

cheavaux de frise


Shield Wall training




Fighting Moves
Dark Eye's finishing move against Daeso

Phereinon's belly to back suplex (German Suplex) that she used upon the Arvern Oathman of House Camna

Here is a link to Sindeok's killing move against Brown-Scales

Morte Strike and Half Sword Defense

[SubRosa]

Acadian & haute ecole rider: My goal here is to show that magic is not an inert force that just sits around waiting for someone to use it. Rather it is an active element in the multiverse, like gravity or electro-magnetism, always acting upon its surroundings.


Zalphon: Hi Zalp! I do tend to get away from just using "said" often, in order to add more feeling. I used to give it a lot of careful thought back in the old days. But now that I am more comfortable with my writing it just naturally comes right out at times. So I leave placeholders in those places.

I think High and Low Fantasy are being redefined lately. I believe the classic rule of thumb was that if it was set in a wholly other world it was High Fantasy, and if it was set in the real world it was Low Fantasy. But as we are getting away from the 'standard' Tolkienesque stories of Dark Lords and the Army of Light uniting to defeat them, I think Low Fantasy is now being applied less toward the setting, and, more toward the plot. The Dark Lord and Army of Light is still High Fantasy, while the grey characters with mortal, everyday concerns like making a living, getting revenge, accumulating political and military power are Low Fantasy. I think the Game of Thrones tv series really illustrates this. I would call most of it Low Fantasy, as it is a dynastic struggle between ruthless warlords. But the Big Bad Ice Necromancer and his legion of undead are pure High Fantasy. I don't watch the show, but I think the most recent season had some issues because it was shifting away from the Low Fantasy stuff everyone can easily relate to, to the more romantic High Fantasy of Light vs. Darkness.


(This next chapter is a big one, but I don't think there is really enough going on to break it into two)

Chapter 1.3

Aela pulled the Light Elf away from the blaze, and entreated her sylph to continue to keep the air around them clear of the smoke and fumes from the blaze. She led the Silaine down the long corridor of the barrow as the heat from the flames bathed their backs. Finally they stepped from the darkness and out into the light of the sun. Aela lowered her night-seeing spell, but was still forced to raise a hand to shield her eyes from the sudden brightness.

A collection of wooden and stone buildings were clustered around the entrance of the barrow. All showed signs of the battle that had preceded the struggle beneath the earth. Doors were broken, windows and shutters were smashed, and roofs were burned out. In some cases entire structures had been completely flattened. The wooden stockade beyond had fared no better, and was charred to ashes or smashed down flat in numerous places.

Just outside of the broken walls, a spring bubbled up into a wide pond, whose runoff trailed away as a narrow stream. Beyond that rose the jagged pinnacles of the Stone Forest. The irregular spikes of limestone rose up hundreds of feet into the air, and spread out in all directions. It was as if someone had taken a forest, and replaced all the trees with towers made of rock. Here and there real brush and small catechu trees sprouted up between the pinnacles of stone, and in some places vines and creepers crawled up the rock faces. But for the most part the uneven fingers of stone were bare as they clawed at the sky overhead.

The mercenaries of the Frisverd company milled about the ruins of the small settlement. There were at least four dozen of them, if not more. Most were Skanjr, with pale flesh and fair hair. However, Aela also noted the olive skin and black hair of the Rasenna folk among nearly a third of their number. There were even a few brown-skinned Aymarans from across the sea, and pair of granite-hued Guzuk orcs from the eastern mountains.

The humans all wore shirts of mail belted around their waists, with skirts hanging down to at least their upper thighs. Spangenhelms protected their heads, and many wore bracers of hardened leather about their forearms. Their round shields were faced with leather or rawhide, and painted in a riot of colors and designs. There were spiral and checkerboard patterns, animals such as boars, wolves, or dragons, and even the elaborate knotwork patterns that her own people - the Arvernach - were known for. Most were armed with either straight, double-edged swords with rounded tips, or single-handed axes. However, a few carried great long axes like the one their leader Hrollaug brandished.

The two gray orcs were unarmored, as was typical of their folk. Chaotic designs were painted upon their bare skin with ochre, and the red body paint glowed warm to Aela's magical senses. She recognized the ochre as bearing a protective enchantment. The orcs had never been renowned for spellcasting, but their alchemy was second to none. The same was true of their fame with the falxes they carried. Pole-arms bearing a long, sickle-shaped blade, Aela had already seen that they could cut through shield and armor in one blow.

Aela felt the warm glow of mana beside her, and out of the corner of her eye she noted a shimmer fall down Loria's body from head to toe. A moment later it was gone, but the magic had left his skin and clothing impeccably clean. Even the wrinkles and creases had vanished from his black and silver robe. The ring of gold and amethyst that decorated one of his fingers glinted as if it had just been polished, and like his robes, resonated with the mana bound within.

Loria looked as if he has stepped off the cover of one of the copper disme romance novels that were so the rage in Alalia. Lavender eyes slanted gently across his delicate features, while a roseate waterfall of soft hair spilled down to nearly his waist. Now freed from grime, his skin was revealed to be as soft and pale as cream, and drew the light to it as a flower did butterflies.

Aela took a moment to concentrate upon her own Cleanse spell as well. Another brief shimmer of light carried away the grime and sweat from the battle, leaving her skin feeling as fresh and clean as if she had just risen from a warm bath. With the fingers of one hand, she loosened the band that tied back her hair. That allowed the light brown tresses to spill down across her long features, past her soft chin, and come to rest below her wide shoulders.

Her clothing was now cleaned and pressed as well, like Loria's. However, the white chemise, brown bodice, and leather pants she wore looked nowhere near as fine as his wizardly attire. Yet they too were suffused with protective magic, and Aela knew her clothing would defend her just as stoutly as the hauberks of steel that the mercenaries wore.

Aela saw that the warriors had built up a tall pile of the loot they had collected from the barrow. It seemed that nothing had escaped the eagle eyes of the sellswords. Aela saw not only the obvious valuables such as mail armor, weapons, and jewelry, but also drinking cups, candlesticks, boots, a wall hanging, and even a few books. Off to one side Aela also noted the bodies of the cultists, stripped bare and thrown into a much larger pile. Next to the grisly mound waited a cart drawn by a pair of mules.

Most of the warriors were clustered around the loot, examining the reward for their labors. Many doffed their helmets and ran fingers through sweaty hair, or quenched their thirst with skins of water or wine. Here and there Aela noted men and women with rent armor or dented helms, clearly wincing in pain. It was to these folk that she reflexively moved.

"Give me a few moments and I can heal that." Aela stepped up to a man whose arm trailed blood from wrist to elbow. She reached out for his wounded flesh, but the Skanjr jerked his hand away with a sneer.

"Don't touch me!" the red-haired man cursed in broken Rasen.

Aela recoiled from the stinging words. Looking from one mercenary to the next, she saw many gaping, fish-like stares greeting her. She knew that look well. They could see that she had not been born a woman, but was instead an ardhanari: a two-spirit who had transformed herself from male to female with magic.

"How are you going to earn with a hand like that Bruni?" One of the female mercenaries piped up. "You'll be worthless for a month at least."

"Then I'll be worthless!" the Skanjr spat back to his countrywoman. "Better that than some unnatural he-she's magic."

Bruni stalked off, to welcome pats and nods of approval by several of his comrades. Aela was about to turn away herself when a male voice stopped her.

"I'll not mind your seid-working." Another Skanjr stepped up. "Something happened to my head, though by Teiwaz I cannot remember what."

The warrior wore his blond hair in one of the fashions popular among the men of his people. Cut short in the front of his head, his straw-colored locks were shaved entirely bare behind the ears, from the crown of his head down to the nape of his neck. Aela saw that what hair he did possess was caked in dried blood, staining its bright color to dark brown.

The Skanjr held his spangenhelm with one hand, and Aela noted a long dent within one of its steel plates. She imagined that his skull would have been split in twain if not for the helmet. But even still, she knew that much of the force of such a blow would have been sent through the metal and into his head. She suspected that this one might have more to worry about than just some bloody hair and lost memory…

"Sit down and tell me your name," the Arvern Witch said. The mercenary weaved unsteadily for a moment, then sat down hard on the ground with legs crossed. One of the female Skanjr stepped over to steady him. Then before he could speak, he pitched forward and vomited all over his legs and the ground beneath him. The stench of it assaulted Aela's nostrils, and the other sellsword made a disgusted face. But Aela did not bat an eye. She had seen - and smelled - far worse working at the Ingenium's hospital.

Many of the other mercenaries laughed however. Aela shot them an angry look, before laying her hands upon the injured man's temples.

"That's not unusual with a head wound," she said softly, "just relax."

Easing the warrior's head back so that he sat straight upright once more, she let her mana sink down into his body. His aura filled her magical senses, a dizzyingly complex tapestry of energy that wove throughout his body and spirit. There were far too many individual strands of power for her to follow and study. That would take months. But her training in Vitamancy had taught her to distinguish which threads pertained to his physical health, and it was these that she traced to his injuries.

Just as clearly as she could see it with her flesh and blood eyes, her magical senses revealed where the skin of the warrior's head had been broken by the inward-dented helmet. His scalp bled profusely, as all such injuries did. But this did not concern Aela. She had expected as much after all. As she feared, the real danger lay below his skull. While the bone had endured most the shock of the blow, Aela found his brain had not. It was severely concussed, and now blood was pooling and seeping through the barrier between it and its normal fluids.

Aela closed her eyes and blocking out everything else around her. The Arvern Witch concentrated solely upon his aura, and the torn and smashed fibers of energy that mirrored his physical injuries. Using her mana as a seamstress would a needle and thread, she sewed the strands of his aura back together. As she did so, his body followed suit. Blood was drawn back into its vessels, and then the veins and arteries sealed shut. Cranial fluids returned to their normal space, bruises healed, pressure was relieved, and bone was restored to full health.

"As above, so below," Aela murmured.

Once she was finished working inside his head, she let her awareness slip out of the aether and back to the physical world. She stared at the superficial wound along his scalp. Healing that was child's play compared to her earlier work, practically as easy as snapping her fingers. She did not even need to read his aura to do it. She simply willed his flesh to heal, and her mana made it reality.

When she was finished, the Skanjr's hair was still matted with dried blood and sweat. But she found that the color had returned to his fair skin, and he smiled back up at her. Before he could speak, she passed a hand over him. A shimmer of purifying light fell down the mercenary's body as Aela cast her Cleanse spell upon him. In its wake his body and clothing were left clean and fresh, as if both had just emerged from the wash.

"Don't suppose you could do that for a hangover too?" he winked.

With that the female Skanjr clapped him on the shoulder. "Now we know he's fine!" she laughed.

"You may have lost some of your memory," Aela cautioned the man, "especially of receiving the wound. It may come back eventually, or never at all. Let me know if you have any other problems."

"Aye," the Skanjr nodded. "Ergi or not, you are right in my runes. Sondulfr of Hjartsfjord owes you a debt seidkona."

Sondulfr clambered to his feet, and offered Aela his hand. She took it gladly. At least he was being civil. Still, she noted that even he could not resist using the term ergi for her: weakling. While she knew little of the Skanjr tongue, that word she did know, given how often she found it leveled upon her. Still, at least he had also called her a seidkona, their word for a female mage. That was the best she could ever hope for, from anyone.

"Anyone else?" Aela asked, looking from one mercenary to another.

"I've got something right here you can lay your hands upon!" one of the men laughed, gesturing rudely to his privates.

"Aye, here too!" guffawed another.

Aela shook her head and turned away. Before she could leave however, another voice cut through the afternoon air.

"I wouldn't let some man pretending to be a woman touch mine," a third voice stung. "There's no telling what you'll get from it."

The Arvern Witch turned around, feeling her anger bubbling like hot water in a pot. The wind whipped up around her as the sylph she had previously summoned reacted to her feelings, blowing dust and clods of dirt in all directions. She fought down the rage with an effort of will, and the nature spirit calmed, albeit grudgingly.

Aela knew that she should say something witty in reply. Loria always had some clever riposte for such situations. But as usual, her mind was a blank slate, and her tongue a stone in her mouth. Yet she was certain that by the time she laid down to sleep that night, she would think of exactly the right thing to say. Of course by then it would no longer matter.

"From what I've seen, no one is going to be touching yours for a long time." Loria's voice came to the rescue. "That is assuming anyone can even find that little thing."

"You have a sharp tongue leaf-ear," growled a man with dirty blond hair and a long mustache. He gripped an axe in one hand, and the men around him did likewise. "But we know what to do with you high and mighty alfar in Skanlond."

"That's enough!" Hrollaug's bull roar silenced all. The red-bearded Skanjr stomped between the pair of mages and the unruly mercenaries. "You all have weapons and armor to clean and maintain. I want to see cloths and oil out now. We'll have inspection before the sun drops a hand-span, and any not fit for duty will regret it."

The mercenaries groused, and some shot dark glances at Aela and Loria. But they followed their leader's commands, and set to maintaining their steel. In the meantime Hrollaug turned to the mages, and gestured for them to walk with him.

"Let us split up the loot here and go our separate ways," he said. The mercenary captain's tone made it clear that this was not a suggestion, but a demand.

"And miss the pleasure of your company's hospitality?" Loria replied sardonically.

"Hospitality is one thing. But you two…" Hrollaug leveled a hard stare upon Aela. "An alfar is bad enough, but if I'd known you weren't a real woman, I'd have never agreed to this partnership."

"I was real enough for you when I was saving your skin back in that barrow!" Aela snarled.

The Skanjr opened his mouth to retort, but was cut off when a strong wind suddenly rose up and shoved him back by at least an inch. Loria stepped between the two, and the unseen sylph relented, for the moment at least. Aela did her best to rein in her feelings, while the Light Elf put a conciliatory hand around the mercenary captain's shoulder and led him a few steps away.

"Perhaps you have a point my friend," the Silaine mage said in an assuaging voice. "Let us indeed part ways here. You may have the heads to collect the bounty back in Veia. We'll take that lorcras cuirass from the high priest, and a few of those mail shirts and swords from his bodyguard."