svetspi-of-kasvrroa

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The current state of our solar system in the year 2196 CE.

#hard scifi #art #scifi art #scifi #stellar mélange #sol system

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Tolmor

The Oledeiva Surveys His Kingdom

The Oledeiva of the Oled Aienic Oledievat fulfills two purposes, one governmental, and the other religious.

The empire of Oled Aieni, as it stands, is a theocracy, following a pantheon of gods, with Tajshi, Queen of Gods, at the top of it all. The Oledeiva (Golden One) is seen as the physical manifestation of Tajshi in the mortal realm, and as such, the just ruler of all mortals.

However, despite being seen as the literal king of the world, he does not take a very direct legislative role. His job is simply to pass down the word of the gods, not to interpret it in the context of the law.

The actual politics are done by “anditaren”. The anditaren are the heads of the ruling noble houses of the great cities of Oled Aieni, who meet in council to discuss the words of the Oledeiva, and what the correct legislative interpretation is, and to apply this to their charged cities.

In the past century, the role of the Oledieva has become increasingly symbolic, and decreasingly directly impactful, with the Council of Anditaren following the words of the Oledeiva less and less directly. This has led to questions about the place of the Oledeiva in society, with many feeling that the anditaren have begun to overstep their position, and believing that the Oledeiva should assume more direct control over the empire, and others still viewing this as evidence that the theocracy is not necessary, and believing the Oledieva should be removed from governmental roles entirely.

Where this will lead in the coming decades, no one is certain, but what everyone can agree on, is that a great shift is coming.

#fantasy #tolmor #worldbuilding #writing #sunset #elf #king #fantasy writing

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The Cave

Letter From Phineas P. Barclay to Maxwell Leggett

Phineas Phileas Barclay 22 Bracken Avenue Coppermine

Tuesday, July 3rd, 1̹̟͇͕̤͉̍́(̗̠͕̯̫̰͌ ͔̣̲̭̠͍ͫ͗ͭͨ͌̐j͓͍̥̣̻̯̼ͨ̂̀̓ͪ̓͘-͇͎̮̳̻̓ͨ͝

There is something under my floor, Phineas. I’m telling you this because anyone else would think me mad.

I can hear it down there each and every night, scraping, and clawing, slowly tunneling up through the solid rock. I can hear the skittering of its surely dozens of claws against the stone, and I can hear it chittering.

I can hear it every night. It’s faint, but it grows louder every day. It is loudest in the sitting room (though even there it is no more than a slight rasping at the edge of my hearing).

You have to believe me when I say this Phineas - there is something beneath my house, and it is tunneling up from the depths of the earth, to kill me. I don’t know for what reason, and I don’t know how I know any of this, but I do.

Even writing it out, I feel a madman… but I know you’ll believe me! You always trusted me with your secrets, and you always supported me in my pursuit of unusual knowledge.

I am leaving my fine little home on Saints Street for an indefinite period of time. I do not yet know where I will go, or how long I will be gone, but I am no longer safe here. I have an awful sense that I may no longer be safe anywhere…

Goodbye old friend. When next I write you, I will be far far away from here. I hope to see you again someday, but I cannot be sure I will.

Maxwell Leggett

#writting #fantasy #horror #the cave #worldbuilding #letter #lovecraftian horror #lovecraftian #fantasy writing

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Tolmor: Middanaerd

Down In The Waters Of Delheaf

Down in the waters of Delheaf Where never light may find,

Down where Death laid quite 'sleep, Where drown'd spirits lie,

Where fish and whales and seals all swim, And elves swim by their side,

A city of black iron looms, Forgotten deep in time,

Dim glints in gloom of iron gleam, And roovs of silver shine,

'nd down and ‘round the silent streets, The ancient Brine-Men wind,

Sunken sailors with salt-crust skin, And darkened souls inside,

Stolen from the world above, To serve the lord of tides,

T’ which dark ends Their goals align,

And what dark things Drift through their minds,

Are hidden well From human-kind,

Down in the waters of Delheaf Where never light may find.

#writing #poetry #Tolmor #fantasy writing #worldbuilding

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The Primary Gods of Middanaerd

Tolmor: Middanaerd

Kee, The Green Lady, who first conceived of the notion of life, and is mother to Modor and Flin.

Modor, mother of men, daughter of the Green Lady, who, with Flin, crafted the world, shaping the land with her own two hands.

Flin, fae-father, son of the Green Lady, who is king of the fairies, and, with Modor, crafted the world, growing the forests from saplings.

Léasbregda, who is the first servant of Flin, and made the elves, and the animals, and is prone to trickery, having a playful nature.

Níþing, who is the second servant of Flin, and made the shadow-people, and all the other dark things of the world, and who gathers secrets from the mouths of men and fae alike, and as such, knows many things.

Rìgh, who was the third servant of Flin, and made the dragain; who built the white tower of Clach Geal, and whose arrogance led him to be slain by a mortal hand.

Ysl, who is the daughter of Modor, grown from her own heart’s divine spark, and who set the cold winter sun aflame, bringing summer to the world, and ending the Everwinter.

Deáscúa, who is death, and oldest among the gods, and whose great black wings enshroud all those who have reached life’s end, and who once slept under the black waters of Delheaf, until roused by the first act of human murder.

#writing #tolmor #fantasy #fantasy writing #worldbuilding #gods #fantasy religion #fantasy gods #fantasy worldbuilding

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Insectoid Statuette

The Cave

Edwin Wilfred Gresley

37 Amanita Street

St. Zadock

Monday, the First of July, 1̹̟͇͕̤͉̍́(̗̠͕̯̫̰͌ ͔̣̲̭̠͍ͫ͗ͭͨ͌̐j͓͍̥̣̻̯̼ͨ̂̀̓ͪ̓͘-͇͎̮̳̻̓ͨ͝

To my dear friend Edwin,

I’m sure you remember the expedition to the King’s Corridor we went on together back in our university days? To document local floral species? We spent so much time out there, sketching mushrooms, collecting specimens, exploring every nook and cranny... ah, those were the days.

Now, I’m writing about a certain item that we stumbled on while out in the field one day, and I was wondering if you might still have it in your possession? The item I am speaking of is a small statuette of an insectoid creature, with a vaguely human-like form, crouching down on two legs, holding a spear to its side. It was carved from green-black onyx, I believe.

I have recently taken a position at Deepwater University, in the upper west caverns, and a colleague of mine has expressed an interest in it, for their studies.

If it is still in your possession, and you are willing to part with it, could you mail it to me in Deepwater?

Thank you very much,

Your friend,

Elizabeth Goldstone

#writing #the cave #worldbuilding #letter #fantasy #lovecraftian #statue #statuette #insect #insectoid

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Taken from a notice board on the streets of Silverstone, New Umbria

The Cave

Wednesday, June 5, 1̻̪̑+͖͈̝̃ͩ̓͝~̪̙̥̩͚̟ͧ͆̅̂ͮ9͌ͮ̿͋҉͇͖̜

To the esteemed Prime Minister Sparks,

MP Hayward Black shows all the signs of vampirism. He is known to carry a red handkerchief with him at all times, and to wear a wide brimmed hat, and tinted glasses (even indoors), and is frequently seen blowing his nose. He is certainly pallid, and generally has an ill complexion, and it is rumored that no coal has been sent to his estate in months. He does not smile with his mouth open, and he does not drink water from a glass, instead, opting to carry a hip flask. It is as well rumored that when MP Goode visited the Black estate this past month, it was cold, and hardly lit, and that when dinner came round, MP Black had his steak served to him nearly raw! (It is even rumored that he bit at a servant!) Some may miss the more subtle clues, but as a doctor of medicine, I can tell you that all this behavior points to a man attempting to hide the symptoms of sanguinem exspiravit - vampirism!

This man is a clearly a menace!

We, the people of Silverstone, urge you to act, and have this man ejected from parliament, and thrown in an asylum, as soon as is possible!

Signed,

a concerned citizen, and medical professional

From Dr. Redmond Parson’s Encyclopedia of Disease

Sanguinem Exspiravit

Sanguinem exspiravit (vampirism, colloquially), is a disease theorized to be a relative of rabies. It is most often contracted from contact with the blood or saliva of those afflicted with the disease, but can also be spread by certain blood-sucking insects, or leeches.

Symptoms: Sensitivity to light. A mild fear of water. Overproduction of blood, leading to iron deficiency, a pallid complexion, and bleeding from the gums and eyes, as well as frequent nosebleeds, and blood in urine and stool. Damaged ability to regulate body temperature (those afflicted with the disease often seek out cold places, and often appear sweaty). Weight loss. Dulled inhibitions. A desire to bite others.

Disease Vectors: The disease spreads through bodily fluids (blood in particular poses the greatest danger). May be spread by bloodsucking insects or leeches.

Recommended Treatment: No known cure. It is recommended that those afflicted with vampirism should be sent to an asylum, and not allowed near any person who is not wearing proper protective equipment. They must be kept in an unheated, unlit, room, and fed a diet heavy in meats. They must be given iron supplements with each meal.

#vampires #vampirism #the cave #fantasy #steampunk #worldbuilding #writing #letter #lovecraftian

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Naka’a e’no Maka - the Void Elves

Tolmor - the 7th Age

As the days of space travel started to come around, a particular sect of dissenters rose up. Worshippers of a god of nothing, the cult of Ele’ev. Ele’ev was not a new god, and had been around for thousands of years, but the advent of space flight brought Ele’ev into a new light for their worshippers. As the first kapo e’no makna ("people of the mountain") left the atmosphere and gazed out upon the vast, emptiness of space, they realized that Ele’ev was not merely the god of nothing, but in fact, as the god of nothing, they were the god of everything. In just a small number of years, the numbers of the cult of Ele’ev soared to heights never seen before, in all their history.

And with this massive surge in worshippers, Ele’ev themself exploded in power. They were no longer fighting for the scraps left behind by larger gods.

It was Keetasa, the 22nd of Summertide, in the year 884 of the Seventh Age of the world, that Ele’ev descended from the heavens, and imbued his high priest, Nhak Vum’oi, with a portion of his divine might, on the steps of his temple in Ca A’kudelaka, and gave him a vision of a great empire led by his descendents, spanning not only the entire world, but the stars themselves, before returning to his realm in the nothing.

Nhak Vum’oi, imbued with divine might, used his newfound power to forever change all the followers of Ele’ev. Their skin turned black as the void, and their eyes, like windows into the depths of the universe, were imbued with the twinkling stars, and shifting clouds of color that fill the night sky, and the spaces between worlds, and all were compelled to make the pilgrimage to Ca A’kudelaka to meet their new king.

Naturally, this change did not go unnoticed by the empire very large. Many Ele’ev worshipers were detained, or even killed by frightened civilians, and the military horses sent in by the emperor to investigate the sudden, inexplicable occurrence. Soldiers were sent to the temple of Ele’ev to question his high priest, but Nhak Vum’oi was not to be stopped. He killed the soldiers, and threw a bubble of nothing up around the temple, in which only his fellow worshipers of Ele’ev could survive, turning the atmosphere inside into a vacuum.

He then took those followers who had made the pilgrimage (the majority had) into the temple, tore it from the ground with his divine power, and carried them all to Toltzesh (the larger of the two moons, who the kapo e'no ). He continued to use his power to create new crops, for his people to grow there, new livestock for them to raise, homes for them to live in. And from the temple he continued his rule, and grew his kingdom.

That is, until Yzakasa, the 18th of Sun’s Height, the year 887 of the Seventh Age. The first extraplanetary ship landed on the surface of Toltzesh, sent by the empire Nhak Vum’oi had left behind. And onboard was an assassin. Using a newly developed rifle with unprecedented range, accuracy, and energy-channeling efficiency, he shot the demi-god king through the head.

However, the death of Nhak Vum’oi did not, as had been expected, undo what he had done. It just made his followers very, very, angry.

The naka’a e’no maka ("people of the void", as they now called themselves) descended on him, and his ship, and tore both to pieces. Kamoulaka Audeni had just made a new enemy.

Nhak Vum’oi’s daughter, Kovani Lolana took his place, as queen of their people, with her husband, Vuakoa Khienoa, at her side. Her goal: topple Kamoulaka Audeni, and establish an empire that stretches “Thia a’ala tai Haiona di.” - “from this world to the edges of the universe”.

#tolmor #fantasy #writing #worldbuilding

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The Interloper From the North

It was in the depths of that cold and dreary time of year of bitter winds, and short, grey days, known familiarly as winter.

I had fallen into the seasonal depression and irritation that came with the time.

Children seemed to revel in the snow, forming it into balls, and tossing them at each other, as well as at various passerby, chattering with a glee that quite frankly baffled me, and left me feeling even more sour than when I had first awoken to see the horrid, white stuff blanketing the yard, and piled up against the windows of my bedroom. The stuff had coated the front walk, and left it treacherous to navigate on my way out that morning. And of course it had been too early in the day for the plowman to have come to clear the drive, and salt the roads.

I had not lived in this town long, and my home was placed (rather awkwardly) on the slope of a hill on the outskirts, where civilization gave way to a dark wood which loomed ominously  over the the roads and rooftops.

As a whole, it was not a bad place -quaint, and perhaps a bit more lacking in proper educated folk- but not bad. And regardless of how much or little I liked the place, it was not as if I could just up and leave; I had a reason to be here after all.

I had moved here chasing rumors of a dreadful sort: the resurgence of an old pagan religion, practiced in the old days of antiquity, when European civilization was still young, and horrid things still lurked the deep shadows of winter nights, prowling the tenebrous borders of dark forests just like that which crept hungrily onto the edges of my property.

According to a colleague of mine, who had tipped me off to the place, the cult had taken over the entire town, converting every last man, woman, and child to their barbaric, primitive, ways.

One would think that such a cult, that could entangle an entire village, would be easy to learn about, but alas! Despite my remaining undercover for nigh unto two months in the place, not one cultist had been caught speaking of their pagan ways! I was beginning to fear that perhaps what I had been told was just that: talk! With nothing to back it up but rumors and hearsay.

That is, until, the night of the winter solstice. In that, the darkest, longest, night of the year, I was roused from sleep by a what sounded to my ears like a distant, chanting song, low, and loud, and choral in sound, as sung by hundreds of voices.

A chill ran down my spine, raising the hairs on my neck, and setting my heart thudding loud and quick. My mouth dry, and hands shaking, I slowly pulled off my blankets, and slipped on my robe, and the cold floorboards creaking traitorously as I crept from my bed and cautiously made my way to the eastward window, which faced out, over the town. My hands, set on the sill clenched, my knuckles turning white, and my arms shaking. What I beheld before me was horrifying. A fearful orange light danced across the rooftops, and trees, mixing and intertwining with the phantasmal blue light given by the the full moon overhead, gazing ruefully through a ragged gash in the black clouds above. From the middle of the town, rose an awful column of flame, sending up sparks of red, yellow, and orange, hundreds of feet into the air, and birthing a plume of black, swirling, smoke, that rose up, higher and higher, until mixing with the dark clouds above.

Though the source of the vast flame largely was obscured by shops and treetops, I could just barely make out several figures. Though dark, against the bright light of the flame, and shrouded in what appeared to be robes and hoods, I could well see that there were members both male, and female, and of a great variety of of statures and builds. With each rise and swell of that unholy choir, the dark figures would clasp their hands together and raise them high, swaying with the melody. And, in that moment, I made a horrific observation: among the singers were children. By god, they had children partaking in their awful ritual! Then that would also mean that all the town was likely down their, dressed in the robes and swaying in time with that abominable, alien, music!

I found myself frozen, unable to look away from the scene down below until, at last, the song ceased, the singers dropped their hands, and the fire burned down to simple coals.

When I was finally released from that awful spell, I could not return to sleep. What I had just witnessed was undeniable: it was all true. This was it. Everything that I had been looking for, and yet, I found that it brought nothing but dread. I knew not what it was that I had just witnessed, but I could only fear the worst.

As I sat there, shuddering on my bed, waiting for morning my mind darted and shifted to dark places, and dark things, bringing to mind remembrances of my studies of the gruesome rituals of the fire-worshipping cult of Yax’taztut’thut in the remote sands of Eqypt, and readings on the dreadful Nantucket moon-cult.

When the sun finally rose, after what seemed an eternity, I found myself overcome by a great weariness, and, unable to hold my eyes open any longer, drifted to sleep.

I spent the next several days drifting about my home in a sort of stunned, paranoid, dread, peeking at passerby on the road through the curtains -all of which I had drawn shut- and pacing about my bedroom.

But, alas, I knew that I must eventually venture out from the safety of my home.

It was a frigid afternoon, and a light snow was beginning to fall, big, heavy, flakes tumbling down from the heavens, and breaking gracelessly upon overcoat. I thought that if, in fact, my fears were true, and the entire town had taken part in that dreadful ceremony days before, it is more than likely that upon seeing me, they may realize that I was not among them that awful, dark, solstice, night, and I shudder to think what the penalties for such a thing should be.

As I walked through the village, head down, and hat drawn over my face, so as to obscure it from passerby, I noticed a change had taken place…

Objects of a dreadful, and occult, nature had been hung from the street-lamps. Ropes of blood red, like fresh entrails had been tangled amongst the bushes, and chanting like those which now seemed so distant emanated from some unseen place, loud, and horrible, prying at my ears, and clawing their way into my mind, seeming to batter and tear at my very soul, until finally, I could no longer take it, and with a cry bolted into the general store.

But dear god, I was not safe there, for though the chanting had been blocked from my mind, before me, in the very center of the room, encircled by those same sanguinous cords as were tangled up in the bushes outside was an awful spire, adorned with unholy depictions the likes of which I dare not -nay, cannot describe in human language. And before that awful spire, stood a woman, and a child, festooned in that same visceral red color, adorned in awful pagan, imagery. They were speaking to each other, about what, I do not know, but from the small snippet I did hear, I do not know if I wish to. As the woman turned to her child, she took her hands, and uttered a phrase that made me turn around, and run, as fast as my legs could carry me, non-stop, the full  mile back to my home: “He will come tonight. We must prepare.”

Who “he” is, and what sort of preparations “his” coming requires… I shudder to think.

I cannot escape… the road is buried too deep, and the plowman has still not come. The snow is falling faster, and as the night descends on the valley, gloom creeps like some insipid, ghoulish liquid, through the cracks and crevices of the floorboards, and walls, pooling in the dark corners of the house, and forming a wall among the trees, and as it does so I can feel the isolation setting in. There is no way out. I am trapped.

It is night now, and I have barricaded the door with the bookcase. A terrible fog has set in, and the chanting rising from the village has finally, stopped, though a small blessing that is, as, in the dark of the night, high, up above the treetops, glows a single star. Bright white, cutting sharp, and cold, through the swirling fog, and blazing like the baleful eye of some dark god in the timeless, infinite blackness of space. I can feel it piercing my very soul..

Even now, I can hear it’s song creeping into my mind, calling out to me, feeling about the dark like a blind man searching for his cane, rattling about inside my skull, growing louder and louder.

Outside, a red glow bleeds into the air -not the natural glow of the sunset, or sunrise, but a horrible, gruesome, glow, unnatural, and impossible, like nothing that could be produced by mortal minds. I know that he draws near.

His song grows deafeningly loud, pounding with a maddening rhythm in my mind. I can only sit here and cradle my head in my hands in the sitting room, but blocking my ears does no good. Oh! God help me! I can hear him pounding on the walls!

The metal chimney rattles and creaks and… god… he is in the room now! He is formless and gruesome, to behold, a bloated, gelatinous mass, bulging and writhing underneath robes of an eldritch, alien, sanguinous red. His eyes -or the black orbs, inlaid in that crimson, bulbous, expanse of a face, that I assumed to be eyes- seemed to contain in their depths that very same baleful star that shone above, and, as from his mouth billowed curls of greasy smoke, I could not hold back a scream, as from the depths of that gruesome, impossible, form, bellowed, three, thunderous, syllables: “Ho. Ho. Ho.”

#lovecraft #christmas #writing

[svetspi-of-kasvrroa]

(random, completely sfw, posts)

Tumblr: “Is this porn”?

But seriously, wth was the issue with this? Too much skin for ya Tumblr? 

#wtf tumblr

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Terrain of Middanaerd

Tolmor - Middanaerd

The rolling moors, of Dúnland seem to stretch on endlessly, cut through by shallow gullies, through which cold streams dance, and from the shadows of which, forescýwan -the shadow-people of Níþing- watch the world pass by. The hills and valleys are dotted with rocky outcrops, and wide fields of lavender, and sparse, hardy, shrubs. On one side of the moors, massive, ancient, cliffs, of volcanic basalt drop off into the sea. On the other, rough scrubland fades into the dark woods, which have no name, as they are the realm of Flin, and his fairy-folk, and not the place of men.

Where the moors of Dúnland turn to cliffs, begins Delheaf - the deep, and endless sea. Its dark and fertile waters support fish enough to feed uncountable mouths… and yet, its coasts are mostly empty of human settlements. Though Delheaf is fertile, and abundant, it is not only fish, whales, and seals that swim its waters. Some say that even the díepeælfen, the river elves, who lurk most all the lakes and waterways of Middanaerd, dare not venture there outside the most dire of circumstances.

The woods, are dark, and broad -seeming almost endless in their vastness. In the west, they fade into the moors of Dúnland, where the branches of the trees hang over the rocky scrub like a dark, and hungry, maw. Mist drifts through the ancient pines, and stands of birch grow between the mossy stones. Leaves litter the sun-dappled ground, and mushrooms sprout from rotted logs. It is said men once walked the woods, but no more. The woods are the realm of fairies, elves, and gods, and the only mortal men who tread there are the foolish ones, or those that have been touched by the fae. They are said to have once had a name, but no longer, as they belong to Flin, and it is not in the place of men to assign a name to the home of gods.

It is in Dúnland, between the forbidden realms of the woods, and Delheaf, where Man calls home. Scattered villages, and a small number of cities, are most of the extent of mankind's habitation of the realm... though some say that there are people -actual humans, not just fae- that still call the woods home, serving under living gods not of Modor's blood, or even Flin's.

#tolmor #worldbuilding #fantasy #photomanipulation #landscape #forest #cliff #sea #ocean #woods #dark woods #fae #fairies #writing

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An Elven Thread-Runner Lands on Toltzesh

Tolmor - the Seventh Age

A thread-runner is a ship that utilizes giant magical conduits, operated and powered by trained mages, to pull itself in one direction along the threads that make up the underlying fabric of reality.

History of Thread-Pulls

Over the course of the sixth and seventh ages (and in the Seventh Age in particular), great advancements were made in the art of arcane magic. These advancements were greatly accelerated with the advent of the Great War (which was, itself, the result of the conquests of the awakened kapo e'no makna (ghost elf) civilization, and the dawning of Kamoulaka Audeni).

Starting around 7A 870, thread-pull technology became the prime technology to study, for both mages and thaumaturges. This technology functioned much like a standard arcane focus, such as a wand, staff, or dagger. A mage would use this conduit of ordered material to draw energy out of the environment, and into a single concentrated point.

A thread-pull, is a conduit that is fine-tuned to have minimal resistance (thus making it so that it requires less energy to use, and so can be used by less skilled channelers (magic-users)), and primarily designed to pull on the threads that makes up the underlying fabric of reality. The primary effect of this, is to move the thread-pull in one direction, as it pulls itself along the thread.

It was found in 7A 873, that certain materials (such as metals and crystals) were inherently more ordered, and so made stronger, more efficient, thread-pulls. This technology was, of course, first used to make weapons. And thusly, the also newly emerging black powder cannons were replaced quickly overtaken by cannons with thread-pull driven projectiles, which could achieve better distances, with twice the accuracy, and (with a decently skilled channeler) they could even achieve twice the velocity.

Basic History of Space Travel

However, it wasn’t long before the possibilities for transportation were realized. At first, they were applied to land transports (essentially, horseless carriages), however, it was quickly realized that they did not have nearly the versatility in movement that was required to travel over any but the widest, flatests, plains. It was in 7A 877 that they were first applied to airships, and by 7A 885, the first foray outside the planets atmosphere (by the now rising Kamoulaka Audeni) opened up frontiers never before imagined on Tolmor. And with spherical war on the horizon, the Astral Sea became not only a scientific interest, but also a great strategic, and expansionist interest.

It was in 7A 887 that the first interplanetary vessel, an early Ghost Elf thread-runner, left the planet, and landed on the largest moon, Toltzesh (whom the Ghost Elves revere).

Now, in 7A 896, the Astral Sea, the moons, and the Seven Hells, are as much a part of Tolmor, as is are the Kobold Isles, or the Sekali Peninsula.

#fantasy #space fantasy #scifi #space #moon #worldbuilding #tolmor

[svetspi-of-kasvrroa]

Shkyar-Esu, the Planet of Lights

Stellar Mélange

The planet Shkyar-Esu has an atmosphere with unusually high concentrations of noble gasses, with xenon as the most abundant. Orbiting the inner-edge of the habitable zone of it’s energetic F8V host star, Shash-shuk, it has an atmosphere that is perpetually statically charged, fluorescing the noble-gases abundant in the air, bathing everything in a ghostly blue glow.

The plant-life of the planet is a deep red-purple color, and at night, much of it fluoresces in a wide array of violets, crimsons, and blues. Most of the animal life of the world is bioluminescent to some degree as well. The purpose of all this bioluminescence is not quite clear, though it may be in part simply due to how simple it is to acquire luminescent gases from the atmosphere, of even just charge and fluoresce the gasses always present in the air.

It is said that there is no sight more beautiful than a nighttime thunderstorm on Shkyar-Esu.

The planet experiences a shift between seasons much greater than Earth, due to it’s much greater orbital eccentricity. This also results in much more extreme seasonal weather, and massive seasonal migrations

Shkyar-Esu is owned by the Shshshi nation Su Fsōfsa, and was as well discovered by the Shshshi in the year 2165 CE (Earth years).

It is currently open to trained researchers only.

Stats Mass: 3.306x10^24 kg Radius: 5231 km Density: 5,514 kg/m3 Surface gravity: 8.058 m/s2 (0.822g) Orbital distance: 1.99 AU Avg. Temp: 27.5 OC (81.5 OF) Albedo: 0.31 Surface pressure: 52.4 kPa

Shash-shuk (host star) Temp: 7175 K Luminosity: 4.82 LSun Age: 3.56 billion years Mass: 1.5 SM

#stellar mélange #planet #scifi #science fiction #hard scifi #hard science fiction #worldbuilding #world building #scifiart #scifiworld #scifi art

[svetspi-of-kasvrroa]

Nihtweardas of Middaneard

Tolmor: Middanaerd

“An awful noise filled the air \ I heard a scream \ In the woods somewhere”

When Modor created men, Flin was angered by the lack of respect they seemed to hold for the beautiful creations the two gods had spent so long crafting and watching over. They cut down ancient trees that had stood for a thousand years to build their homes. They set fire to the natural underbrush to make space for their regulated fields. They cheated the game of the hunt by crafting spears, and bows, and knives.

Flin demanded to Modor that she destroy her new creations before they destroyed everything that the two had built.

When Modor refused, Flin grew only more angry.

And so, he went down into the world, and told his two faithful servants, Níþing and Léasbregda, that something must be done to keep the troublesome humans from doing any more damage.

Níþing and Léasbregda agreed, as they were, too, distraught and the doings of men, and as well, how could one disobey the one who created you with his own hands?

And so Léasbregda said to Níþing, “What shall we do to remove the men from the forest while doing no harm to the forest ourselves?”

And Níþing said to Léasbregda , “What is it that motivates all beasts? That is shared among all living things?”

And Léasbregda did not know, so Níþing said, “It is fear. Even the mighty bear has fear. We shall get rid of man by making him fear the forests, like the mouse fears the fox.”

And Léasbregda understood, and so said, “Yes, we shall make man fear the forest! We shall cheat the cheater, and make a beast that does not follow the rules that they know.”

“We shall make it so that it may not be harmed by their weapons. We shall make a beast neither alive nor dead, as you cannot kill what is already dead.” Replied Níþing.

“Yes, and we shall make it crafty and cunning, like men themselves, so that it cannot be trapped or outwitted by their tricks.” Replied Léasbregda.

“And we shall make the hunted the hunters, and create it from the very beasts they claim superiority over.” Replied Níþing.

“And we shall give it eyes that see even in the blackest, moonless, nights, as if it were a cloudless, sunny, day.” Replied Léasbregda.

And so the two servants of Flin set to work constructing their beast.

For its head, they used that of a great hart, decaying, and with white bone exposed. For its legs, they used a boars legs, patchy and torn. For its arms, they used those of a lion, powerful, and equipped with cruel, sharp, claws. And for its body, as a final cruel joke, they used the torso of a man, whose chest cavity had been torn open, and ribs and organs exposed, by a lion.

When the two showed Flin their creation, and regaled him with their plan, he was most pleased with it, and quickly went to work spreading many of these beasts through all the forests of the world in which men dwelled.

And so men fled the woods, pursued by beasts that they could neither kill, nor outsmart, nor hide from.

And still today, the nihtweardas stalk the dark shadows where the woods end, stalking quitely from tree to tree, eyeing all those walking in the light with hunger, and a burning hatred.

#writing #worldbuilding #fantasy #fantasy world #horror #art #story #creature #monster #forest #fantasy writing #fantasy creature #tolmor

[svetspi-of-kasvrroa]

Undead - the Basics

Tolmor

In Tolmor, there are several different types of undead.

Main categories: simple material undead, complex material undead, simple phantasmal undead, complex phantasmal undead, and higher undead.

Material undead are those that are whole, they have bodies into which souls (or parts of souls) are bound. Phantasmal undead are those that are no more than free-roaming souls, released from the confines of a body. The differences between simple and complex undead are fairly straight-forward as well: simple undead are easy to create, and not very complicated, complex undead are difficult to create and are more complicated.

Then there are higher undead. Higher undead are things such as liches, blacksouls (basically partial-liches), resurrected individuals, and ael shdris-melebri (phantasmal version of a lich essentially). They are fully intelligent, self-determining, and retain all of who they were before death. These are the hardest types of undead to create, and by extension the rarest type. It also tends to be very dangerous on the part of the necromancer to become a higher undead.

Debated Categories: thaumaturgic undead, alchemical undead, and demonic undead.

Thaumaturgic undead are corpses reanimated and sustained through intricate engineering. Alchemical undeadare corpses reanimated and sustained with magical materials and substances. Demonic undead are creatures from the divine realms of evil or death related gods that take on the appearance of a reanimated corpse. The problem with alchemical and thaumaturgic undead is that they haven't been truly brought back to life, they are simply a corpse given a general appearance of a living organism. The problem with demonic undead, is that they are, more than likely not undead, in the sense that, they were most likely never dead in the first place, and so most likely never had to be brought back to life, making them creatures that simply look like undead.

Creating Undead

To create material undead, one must pull a piece of a soul from the afterlife, and bind it to the corpse/corpses/corpse piece/pieces. For simple material undead this generally means simply finding a fairly fresh, intact, corpse, and binding a piece of a soul to one of the three bodily anchors of the soul (the brain, the heart, and the guts). The more soul you put in, the smarter the resulting undead, and the more it retains of the soul's previous self, so usually, they only take a small piece. For complex material undead, the possibilities are virtually limitless... if you have the skill. Complex material undead are largely defined by their being made up of many separate pieces, such as a skeleton, or a pile of limbs or viscera, all of which the necromancer has to bind together (magically or physically), which takes a not insignificant amount of energy.

To create phantasmal undead, one must pull a soul or piece of a soul out of the afterlife, and then pull enough energy out of it that the fabric of reality restricts to tightly behind it, that it can't be pulled back between the threads into the next world. A simple phantasmal undead consists simply of a single soul or soul piece, whereas a complex phantasmal undead is multiple souls or soul pieces stitched together.

The creation of higher undead is a bit more complicated. Most forms of higher undead have their own unique process for creation. However, the general gist of it is that you need to remove your soul from your body, than re-anchor it, before it is pulled into the afterlife. If this goes even slightly incorrectly, the results can be disastrous, leaving the necromancer either completely mad, or just straight up dead.

#tolmor #fantasy #undead #writing #worldbuilding

[svetspi-of-kasvrroa]

The Tulari, of the Fringe, believe the practicing of arcane magic (the direct manipulation of the threads of reality, using energy from your body or the surrounding environment) to be an evil act.

The only magic allowed by the Tulari is divine magic, as that is the gods doing magic through you, rather than you really doing it yourself.

To practice arcane magic, is to declare yourself higher than than the gods themselves, by accessing their tools, and declaring their vision of the world imperfect.

The punishment for practicing arcane magic varies from life-long exile, to religious sacrifice (to show the gods that those around you did not condone your sacrilege, and so that the rest of the tribe isn’t punished along with you for your sins).

Are there any activities that your world’s religion(s) forbid? What are the consequences of doing them?

#worldbuilding #prompt response #writing #fantasy #fantasy culture #tolmor

[svetspi-of-kasvrroa]

Stellar Mélange

Gliese 832 c

Discovered June 25, 2014, by an international team of astronomers, it was long called "the nearest best habitable world candidate so far".

Orbiting the M2V star, Gliese 832, in the constellation, Grus, Gliese 832 c is tidally-locked; one side always lit in scorching daylight, the other shadowed in frozen everlasting night, with a habitable band around the terminator line.

The planet experiences near constant very strong winds moving around the planet, and often experiences extreme weather.

Much of the native life of the world is evolved to very specific light levels and environments, leading to lots of highly specialized life-forms. There are as well, many extremophilic life-forms native to the planet -life can be found across nearly the entire planet in some form or another. This makes it an extremely valuable resource for study by exobiologists.

In 2085, the planet was first imaged by one of the first FTL extra-solar probes: Hermes II, launched by the West Coast Union.

In 2130, it became the second world outside the Sol system visited by humans, and in 2135, was the second world outside the Sol system colonized by humans (making it the seventh world colonized by humans in total).

Now, in the year 2196, it has the largest human population outside of Earth. While there are many colonies on the world, from many Earth nations (virtually all nations with a space program have something on the planet), the three largest are, in order, the Indian colony, the West Coast Union colony, and the Japanese colony, and these three colonies shape the overall culture and politics of the world.

The planet’s extremely varied climate also make it one of those rare worlds inhabitable to all known space-faring species, and so it is as well, host to colonies of a number of other species, including the teehleetala, the Hēdŭr, and the Shshshi, and is one of the only wheeta ehteeti colonies.

#scifi #hard sci-fi #hard science fiction #worldbuilding #scifi world #planet #scifiworld #Stellar Mélange #scifi planet