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: I am liking how the Seven Magnificos are shaping up in this version of the tale. Because of the new setting, I am able to make them more unique than I think I did before, and provide more story hooks into their backgrounds. Things not always obvious in this tale, but which can be used for future stories.

You are right in that Aela has learned the hard way that when people learn she is transgendered, it changes how they treat her, usually for the worse. She just wants to be the same as anyone else.

White Hair will return in the episode after this one. So watch for temptations.



Chapter 6.3

The sun hung like a red ball over the western sky, bleeding long shadows across the parade ground beyond Veia's southern gate. Aela and Loria followed Hrafngoelir through the rough, sparse grass of the wide field. The high, snow-capped peak of Mount Ida rose up miles away to the south, and Aela's eyes traced the line of the stone aqueduct that sent its water across the plateau to the city behind her. To the east the ground gradually fell away, tumbling down into the great stone forest between Veia and Kye Rim. But it was to the west that the Skanjr led the mages, toward the setting sun.

The wind whipped at Aela's long, brown hair, and she was forced to hold it back from her face with one hand. The sound of waves came to her ears, and in the fading light, she could see that the field came to an abrupt end in the distance. Beyond that, the world vanished in twilight.

"You are certain your friend shall be here?" Loria raised a single eyebrow as they walked on. "Usually mercenaries prefer less idyllic surroundings."

"He'll be here," Hrafngoelir insisted. "Venca always watches the horizon at dusk. This is the best place in all of Veia to get a view."

"What is he looking for?" Aela asked, genuinely curious about the unusual quirk.

"I don't know," Hrafngoelir shrugged. "He never talks much about it. I think it's got something to do with Valfreia though."

"Valfreia?" Loria now cocked a second eyebrow. "Now that is just begging for a deeper explanation."

"He carries her Wheel." Hrafngoelir glanced back for a moment. "He has since I've known him. At least I think."

"You think?" Aela wondered aloud.

"Things are a little muddled for me around the time of the Sluagh," Hrafngoelir admitted. "I cannot remember much of what happened for the month beforehand, and nothing from that day."

"That is strange," Aela mused. She had still been living in Cymner at the time, so she had experienced the edge of the Sluagh herself. For a single day the spirits of her homeland had gone mad. There had been earthquakes, storms, tornados, and fires, all rampaging out of the city of Tregyn. But perhaps even worse had been the spirits of that's city's recent dead, whom had all risen up from their graves to assault the living. It had only lasted a day, but that day had seemed as long as a lifetime to Aela.

Even now, no one knew what had caused the calamity, nor what had truly ended it. Aela was simply thankful to have survived. Yet she had never heard of anyone missing the entire month beforehand. She could recall everything during the Sluagh with no difficulty. The same was true of everyone else she knew. Who was Hrafngoelir, that the Sluagh had devoured her life for the month before it had even happened?

"I count myself lucky," the Skanjr said. "Venca has it much worse. The Sluagh took his life with it. He cannot remember anything that happened beforehand. He's not even sure if his name is really Venca."

Loria whistled. Aela glanced in his direction and saw that he was thinking the same thing she was. Hrafngoelir and Venca had somehow been a part of the Sluagh. Not mere survivors, but active participants somehow.

"Here I thought the two of us made a pair," Aela said.

"We do," Loria insisted, "just a different kind."

The grass thinned out and gave way to hard rock, and they found the city walls coming to an end on their right. Now Aela could see the edge of the escarpment ahead, and the dark waters of the Spout beyond. Across the narrow strait rose a rocky bluff that stretched out of sight to the south and west, and opened up into the expanse of the Bronze Sea to the north and east.

Aela could see a figure sitting cross-legged near the edge of the cliff. Aela noted that he had broad shoulders, and was dressed in ordinary black linen. A sheathed longsword laid upon the ground beside him, with a hilt made of gleaming black lorcras. She was just barely able to sense that its name was Solagea, or 'Moonlight' in the elvish tongue. But she could feel nothing else from the elven weapon.

For Aela felt a power resonating from something on him that nearly eclipsed everything else in the area. Even more than a dozen paces away, it glowed in the aether like the moon in a clear night sky. She had never felt such energy from a magic item before, not even at the Ingenium. Even though she was not a master of enchantments, she could tell that it would devour any sorcery thrown at it, and fill its wearer with the power of the stolen spell. What its limits might be, if any at all, the Arvern Witch could not even guess.

But there was also another sensation coming from the artifact, beyond simply its enchantment. It was a strange thing, that made her think of ravens and black roses in moonlight. Aela suspected that was the touch of the amulet's creator.

She knew instantly that this was the Lorlonrhod or Ravenwheel of the goddess of death and magic. To the elves she was Mhorlor, to her own people Morigu, the Rasenna called her Nyktera, and the Skanjr Valfreia. Aela was certain that the other races had their own names for the same omnipresent entity as well. Those were simply the ones that sprang to life in her mind, as if conjured there by the Wheel itself.

Where many others might feel a chill at the touch of the night goddess, Aela instead felt nothing but warmth from her touchstone. The Arvern was a magician, and like all of her kind she walked between worlds. Morigu did the same, carrying souls between the worlds of life and death, as well as magic between the worlds of the spirit and mundane. That made her the ruler of transitions, something Aela was quite familiar with herself…

"Venca," Hrafngoelir said as they stepped nearer, "I have found a quest for us."

"A quest?" The black-clad man snorted derisively. He did not turn to face them, but instead continued to stare out into the straits. "Who even says that? You mean a job."

"No," the Skanjr said. "A shopkeeper has a job. A donkey salesman has a job. Warriors embark upon quests, and Tiewaz smiles upon our glory. It is our sacrifice to him."

"You can take Tiewaz and shove him up-" Venca could not finish before Hrafngoelir cut him off.

"You would prefer to sit on your lazy arse and brood for another week?" She rested her hands upon her armored hips. "Well, we can just go and slay those dragons all by ourselves then."

"Your sense of humor has not improved," Venca grumbled. Finally he did turn, and Aela saw from his dark hair and olive skin that he was a Rasen. He had a face that she imagined most women would call handsome, with short, curly locks and a neatly trimmed goatee. If she had to guess, Aela would put his age somewhere between thirty and forty. Not old yet, but not young anymore either.

His eyes were hard though. Even though he was sitting, Aela noted the stiff, erect posture, and the seemingly tensed muscles. Where Hrafngoelir's bearing had proclaimed herself as a warrior, his said that he was a soldier. He looked like a man who had stood at attention and marched in lockstep for so long that his body had forgotten how to do anything else. A huscarl or oathman was Aela's first guess, or some other professional military man.

"Your disposition has not improved either," Hrafngoelir countered dryly.

"So what is it this time?" the Rasen sighed, "vampires? necromancers? Or did you really dig up a dragon somewhere?"

"Raiders are threatening a village to the east." Loria rested his hands upon his hips. "We're looking for a few experienced people to stop them."

"To the east you said?" Venca thoughtfully stroked his beard, and turned to glance back at the eastern horizon, where the stars now began to shine in the dark sky. The raucous cry of a raven split the evening air. Its black shape briefly winged past Aela's eyes, only to vanish into the oncoming night.

"How many outlaws?"

"Fifty," Aela said.

"How many do you have?" he turned back to face them.

"Four," the Arvern said honestly.

The Rasen's cool demeanor finally broke, if only for an instant. "Well you certainly have stones, I'll give you that!" he nearly laughed.

Then he turned serious again. "Now you have five. I'll do it to follow the raven, if nothing else."

* * *

The foursome was making their way back through the darkened streets of Veia when a Teodon stepped out of the shadows along their path and blocked their way. His dark yellow scales bore stripes and irregular shaped bands of green across his entire body. Likewise, the spines that crested his head were banded in yellow and green. He was easily one of the most striking members of his race that Aela had ever seen.

He was dressed in little more than a loincloth and a belt. In one hand he clutched a long spear with a leaf-shaped head of steel. In the other hand he held a crescent-shaped shield of wood that was painted yellow, and emblazoned with a pair of large crimson eyes drawn at a slant.

"It is said that these ones are seeking warriors," the Teodon declared. "Alcheon shall join them."

Like the others, Aela studied the Teodon. The flickering light of the street lamps glistened off his lustrous scales, a sure sign of youth in one of his race. While his face seemed set in stone, his tail twitched, revealing his nervousness to all with an eye to see. His gear, or lack of it, again spoke of his inexperience. But most of all his eyes lacked that flinty edge that one got after having killing other sentients. Not from the first time, but the time after that, when you did it again even though you knew what it meant, and part of your heart went cold.

"You don't have what it takes boy," Venca said what Aela knew they all were thinking. "Go home, and live to see your scales fade."

"I am a warrior," the Teodon insisted. "I may not have fancy armor or magics, but I am strong, and I can fight."

"What do you know about fighting?" Venca growled. He stepped forward, and grabbed the spear from the youth's hand. "We aren't spearing fish boy, or hunting razorbacks. We're killing people. People you have to look in the eye as their life drains out of them, as they scream, and cry, and beg for their mothers. Can you do that son?"

"I am ready," the Teodon declared. The spines on his head rose up high, and his tail began to sway behind him.

"Then show me kid." Venca slapped the spear against the Teodon's chest, and the youth took hold of it with his right hand again. "Come on, stab me with that fish-sticker."

Aela felt sorry for the Teodon. He was clearly out of his depth. She hoped that he would just walk away, and spare himself the humiliation that was so plainly coming. But given his youth, she doubted that would happen.

Alcheon's eyes flickered from Venca to her, Hrafngoelir, and Loria.

They all stepped back to give the pair room. "Don't hold back Teodon," Hrafngoelir cautioned. "Give it all you have. Kill him if you can."

The Teodon stabbed with the speed of striking serpent. But Venca appeared to have seen it coming. Aela only knew a little of sword-fighting, and far less of spear-fighting, so she could not tell what the name of the move was the Rasen used to disarm the youth. All she did know was that an instant later Venca had the spear in his hand, and whacked its wooden butt against the side of the Teodon's ankle.

Alcheon fell to one knee under the blow. But he did raise his shield over his head to ward off more attacks. Venca did not follow up his assault however. Instead he simply threw the spear down upon the cobblestones at the Teodon's feet.

"Go home son," he said quietly. Without another word, he walked on down the street. Loria opened his mouth to say something. Then he shook his head and walked on as well. So too did Hrafngoelir.

Aela stared the young Teodon, and debated whether or not she should try to heal the bump she could already see forming upon his leg. She could not help but to feel sympathy for him. She knew all too well what it felt like to be humiliated before a crowd. But she could appreciate that Venca had not been motivated by cruelty. Of course, whether or not Alcheon would understand the lesson the Rasen had so painfully tried to impart was another matter.

Aela decided not to heal him. All actions came with consequences, sometimes painful ones. Alcheon would have to endure them all. It might help him decide his fate.



Venca