Late Winter, Early Spring

This time of year makes me antsy. Time to start garden projects, however the ground is still too cold. Time to start the long list of wood projects, yet year to be outside. The daylight still ends too quick. So It must be time to write, or rewrite, or edit. My wife, Amy, gave me a great idea Monday night, that will be in the works. One more book series will not hurt anyone, right?

What are my influences?

     Growing up in the '80's, great movies as well as great writers formed my story telling style. I describe as I think about the scene. Putting myself in the center of the room and looking around to the interesting objects, action, and people, makes my eyes seem as the camera view. The same happens when I read. If I cannot visualize what the writer explains, then I quickly lose interest. A great story can originate from a well written television series. So, here is a list of my stylistic influences.

Writers: (in no particular order)
J.R.R. Tolkien                              George Orwell                          Aldous Huxley
Sir Arthur Conan Doyle              Douglas Niles                            Frank Hebert
Ray Bradbury                              C.S. Lewis                                 R.A. Salvatore
Agatha Christie

Television Series: (again, not is any order of importance.)
Firefly                                         Colombo                                   Doctor Who, (classic and new) 
Battlestar Galactica (New Reboot)

Signature Works:
The Bible                                     The Lord of the Rings              Fahrenheit 451
Darkwalker on Moonshea           The Crystal Shard                     Dune
Canticle                                        Animal Farm                            1984
The Hound of the Baskerville     And Then There Were None     Brave New World
The Mystery of the Blue Train   Mere Christianity                     

     As more come to mind, I will edit this post. These stories expanded my mind to what is possible in telling a good tale.

Nigel Kaolin

Nigel Kaolin

                Nigel, headstrong and determined, ran away from home at the tender age of eleven.
                Quick witted enough to out think his friends, and strong enough to force their rage back when he out-insulted them, Nigel knew that his family’s life was unjust. He grew tired of having to do what he did not want to do. His parents loved him and provided everything they could for him, however, he father and mother and the rest of his siblings worked as serfs on a minor vassal lord’s estates in Zeural. They toiled every day for the meager subsistence in which to live. He hated to be reliant upon the stingy generosity of the Vassal. He hated to see his parents suffer just so he could have a half a biscuit more. Nigel had worked in the fields since he was six, and discovered his emerging magical ability, which he hid from everyone. He loved his parents and his family, but he could not take the fruits of their labor going to his vassal and not bettering their own lives. He left.
                Nigel spent the next ten years learning the hidden criminal underbelly of society. He learned street cons. He excelled in pick pocketing. He graduated to extortion and racketeering. In Onger, he rose up the ranks of the local criminal guild. He controlled and executed most all the crime on the south side of Onger. He bribed enough officials to keep him out of jail. Soon after his twenty first birthday, he decided that he should run the entire organization. The wizened old guild master, Tommy Fountainbleu, had other ideas. Nigel still did not like to take orders. Tommy made sure that Nigel would never run the guild while he lived. Nigel’s big day came when Ol Tommy fought in the street with a traveling Necromancer. Tommy lost. Nigel’s first taste of true power, seeing the sheer fury of gevebe energy molded into horrifying effects,  left him hungry to learn more. He confronted the Necro in the street, not for revenge, but for information. The Necro lowered his guard enough to invite Nigel to study at Viata Negru, a Necromancer institute of learning.
                Nigel passed the entry exam, which was to random slay the first person he met in Waspau. There, he met a middle aged man going to work on the road south of Waspau, and with the timely application of dark fyre, earned his acceptance. There was no pretense, no clandestine endeavor, he walked right up to the man and killed him with flame. The school’s master, Anthony Mekor, observed the true potential in Nigel and trained him directly. Mekor established the traditional manner of Necromancer training with Nigel’s class. The young Nigel excelled at Necromancy. He graduated first in his class and Mekor promoted him to the Council of Twelve at twenty six. He became the youngest member of the Council since its inception. When Mekor died, Nigel became the Supreme Necro of the Council with unanimous consent.
                Nigel took Mekor’s school model and improved it. He established Blackstar, the first Necromancer College. Under his direct control, hundreds of graduates have went on to pursue their dark passions. Although, there are other necromancer education centers, none risen to the level of excellence as Blackstar, under Nigel’s direction.

Zan

Zan

Zan recovered first after the Calamity. The lush valley between the Chapel and Durren Mountains escaped the catastrophic desolation and destruction that plagued the surrounding countryside. Although there remained many strikes of the Hammer of God, the vegetation and wildlife recovered much quicker than the other areas.

          The people of Zan rebuilt quickly. They made every attempt to return to normal life although none knew what that would look like. In the years that passed, Zan became a refuge for various nomadic tribes of survivors. Its low hills and heavily wooded dales provided valuable resources for the people.

          Strong national leadership set up a form of feudalism to keep the peace and guide the prosperity of the country. The fortress of Those Who Came Before, Saren Kerns, became the seat of power and government for all of Zan. Land owners paid tribute to the King of Zan for protection.

          The line of kings stood strong for many, many years until one small heir fell sick and died. The charismatic leader of Ertzer, B’hoa, took over the place of power in Saren Kerns. There he still reigns by the power of his words.

Zeural

     Zeural stands as the nation for the citizens. The Monarch learned that the prosperity of his people will be greater if he allows them the freedom to own private property and freely engage in commerce without his meddling. Most of the nobles hate him for the loss of their lands and labor force. The Monarch successfully broke the feudal system and his country is poised to be the wealthiest on all of Ropermai. 

      Over the past twenty years, the citizens of Zeural have pursued every type of enterprise yet known. The immigration is booming. Taxes are low. Normal life for the common man seems to be golden. Yet, the influx of criminals preying of the prosperity has caused the monarch problems. He has spent most of his ruling time, setting up national law enforcement to crack down on these malcontents. 

     Zeural can be the greatest nation or it can fall into bedlam. The wisdom and heart of the monarch will determine their fate.

Author Pic for the Website

Here is a my pic for the author page of the website.

Mattatias of the Contained Tiger

Mattatias

Mattatias only knows his parents as ‘mom’ and ‘dad.’ A necromancer scarred his early life by slaying them. His mentor, who he only knows as ‘sefu,’ rescued him from that hate filled night. Sefu raised Mattatias as his own for the next fifteen years. Sefu taught young Mattatias the way of Contained Tiger and continued his training in the Mighty Man Manual. The Master secreted the young boy to an island on the coast of Zan. Sefu built a complete training complex and homestead. They could live there for years without outside support.

Mattatias learned at an alarming rate. He practiced every morning then he did his chores. Whether tending the expansive garden or the sheep herd, Mattatias found peace in the stewardship of the homestead. He ducked the afternoon heat with study in great literature and survival manuals. Around twelve, he manifested his polymorphing ability. Sefu was there to relieve his fears and guide the young mind and heart of Mattatias. Mattatias favorite form was the huge fox. He discovered the thrill of the hunt. Sefu was ever present with him to teach the young Mattatias harmony with nature and those around him.

Every three months, Sefu would take the young man across the short distance to the mainland. They would walk to town and spend a few days interacting with the townspeople. Mattatias found joy in the helping of those in need. Sefu would inquire about the enemy and squashed rumors of their location.

Mattatias former life caught up with him one evening when the same Necromancer finally found the remainder of his original prey. Mattatias was walking up from the gardens when he smelled the familiar scent of spell fire. He ran to his Master. He arrived just in time to see the Necromancer take the life of the man who cared for him all these years. Fear gripped his heart. He ran. He transformed into his fox form and fled. He made it to the lake and jumped. He swam for his life. Once ashore, he turned to see his second home ablaze. He knelt and prayed for his Master. He vowed revenge. Then the words of his Master came back to him. “Revenge solves nothing, justice will sooth your heart.” He took back his vow and made a promise to bring justice to the slayer of those closest to him.