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shepherds-of-haven · 5 months

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Sorry if this has already been asked before, but have you ever thought about writing a sequel to SoH? I know you said it would be a stand-alone book, but I think a sequel where we explore different continents would be extremely cool. I just love these character so much and idk if I’m ready to say goodbye. I know we still have a bit left but still…

Hi there, this message has been sitting in a long queue of messages I've fallen behind on answering for a while now, but I just wanted to say thank you for taking the time to send it! It ended up being extremely thought-provoking for me, and you may have single-handedly made me reconsider my stance on a Shepherds sequel! XD

I always planned on this entry being a standalone game, though I was toying with the idea of eventually writing a sequel that follows a separate cast of characters (aka different protagonist and companions, though with room for potential cameos with the old characters). Pretty much like how Dragon Age does it! I won't go into the potential plot details now, but I was thinking it might take place sometime between 10-15 years in the future, and it would follow "a new generation" of Shepherds in a different locale. I've sort of hazily cobbled together ideas for the story/main premise, but companions outside of the main protagonist have eluded me at the moment--I really need to focus on this game, its DLC, and my next book first, so I haven't given it too much thought!

However, your comment has unearthed some feelings I've been having about a potential sequel, too! It's hard for me to feel like I'd be ready to say goodbye to the cast, as well... It's so easy for me to write them because they've been in my head for so many years, and starting an adventure in the world of Blest with different and new characters admittedly feels a bit strange. It's like having to hang back a grade while all of your friends graduate high school and then looking around at the incoming freshman class like "welp, I guess you guys are my friends now! 😒" lol. I'm torn on the issue: I don't want to not challenge myself or refuse to move out of my comfort zone as a writer--in short, I don't want to be the kind of writer who recycles the same characters and material because doing something new is daunting to me, and I don't want you all to feel like I'm making endless sequels/trying to recapture old magic and should just move on to something new, either--but I do love my cast and I'm not sure yet if I should definitively say, "No, their chapter is done with this game and it's on to the next!", because I can see so many adventures happening to them even after this story is over!

The problem lies with endings--there are so many different endings planned for this game that I hesitate in treating any of them as the true or canonical one, but otherwise trying to account for all of them in a sequel feels quite impossible to accomplish when I wasn't planning on a continuation--along with other logistical concerns that I can't get into at the moment. Like, what if you end the game with all of the Shepherds except Halek dead? What if your friend ends the game with all of them alive, but the MC is dead? This game alone is already 1 million words, but a direct sequel would probably wrack up hundreds of thousands of variations based on all of these choices in its first chapter alone! 🤔

That's why I figure DLC is the happy medium here: you can expand on or create new content and adventures for the characters, but slot them into the timeline wherever you wish, like in between Chapter 7 and 8, etc. And episodic adventures might keep things small and streamlined enough that I can update them more consistently, rather than hacking away at one giant sequel game!

Aaaaaanyway... All this is to say: I have a lot to think about! Absolutely nothing has been decided yet (not even close), but these are just some of the things I've had rattling around in my head. Thank you again for your sweet and honest words: I'm glad you're so fond of these characters and would miss them. I would, too! But whatever ends up happening, I know this game won't be the last time we see them. :)

Thanks again!

#Shepherds of Haven #sequel #FAQ #spoilers #mild #me #personal #writing #it's pretty much a dragon age vs mass effect scenario #if you know what I mean :')

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tobi-smp · 2 years

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Sorry for sending this to you specifically but the thought of making my own post and being perceived terrifies me, and I also think you might have some interesting input on the matter?

How much do you think c!phil being the way he is, is a result of ""bad writing"" (I'd more call it inexperienced), and how much of it is him just being morally gray/not a good person/whatever you would call him at this point idk.

Because one one hand a lot of C!Phil to me feels like he's a prime example to some of the downsides of (mostly) improv role play. He only exists when he is being played and all the knowledge on him kept by the one playing him is only in his head. None of him is written down anywhere so he acts inconsistent and details are easily forgotten/reconnected. Its hard to figure out what c!Phil wants to say because it comes off as not even he knows what he wants — and not because of him, but what the writers want to do. There's no thought behind his actions, just an outside force dictating what he should do for plot or what would be funny in the moment.

I often wonder how different c!phil would be if he were kept track of like a dnd character, but tbh you could say that about anyone.

(personally I don't think this is a bad thing and the DSMP should be given leeway due to its nature as an unscripted roleplay, but I think it can lead to a lot of characters like c!phil)

But I feel all these things could also just be who c!Phil is. Is he an inconsistent person because he only parrots his ideals and doesn't truly believe them? Maybe he's so old and jaded he's forgotten where he's been and can't empathize with people suffering in ways he was able to overcome long ago. Maybe C!Phil is meant to be one side of the coin of attachment. He values people while C!Tommy (in his mind) over values things, seeing his views separate from C!Tommy's when in reality, they're two sides of the same coin, the thing C!Dream has been trying to distance himself from.

I There's so many cool and interesting angles you can infer from Phil's character depending who he interacts with and how — but none of it feels intentional. Is that just me? Is c!phil simply a product of how he's been handled by the story? Or is he just. Like That.

honestly, it's difficult to say what about a character is intentional or not.

I will say, phil's character has suffered the most over inconsistencies in the writing that aren't necessarily His Fault. the sbi dynamic was Fully Canon once, and then he was in character limbo for a long while after it wasn't.

someone like foolish was able to come in completely disconnected from anyone else on the server and then Built those connections thoughtfully, while phil was left scrambling trying to figure out What his connections to other characters were to try to build on shaky foundations that might move again.

we can say for Sure phil went through an awkward period where he was trying to figure out where his stance was supposed to be with other characters and where he had to be careful about what he said about his past while trying to establish his character, which was limiting considering just how interpersonal his central story arc is.

but at the same time, there are aspects to improv roleplay where the separation between the two doesn't matter as long as it's recognized as having happened. watching his scene between him and wilbur on the 16th its easy to see that phil was out of his depth. it was his first moments on the server and he was immediately dumped into the deep end of the pool. he was laughing, he was starting and stopping sentences without knowing where to go with them, and wilbur was so much Surer and Stronger in his delivery. which ultimately funneled phil's actions into giving wilbur what he wanted, in killing his son.

obviously we understand from an out of world perspective that this was due in no small part to phil's inexperience with roleplay, but this translates directly into phil's In Character Reaction as well. c!phil hasn't seen his son in years, he doesn't know what's going on, he didn't know how to help his son. stumbling, not knowing what to do in the face of wilbur's Absolute Certainty. it makes sense even if his choice was a Terrible one.

think about how dream's fixation on tommy in the early days was down to them both being active content creators that bounced well off of each other and how those interactions have permanently been tinted by current lore. the intentions behind what a character does and says matters less than what it tells us about that character, you know?

that said, while I Do think phil's character has suffered the most from retcons and shuffling behind the scenes, I Do genuinely think that things like his hypocrisy, stubbornness, and ignorance are written to be there Intentionally. whether that was his intent the entire time or he connected the dots himself later matters Less than what he does with it now.

either way, I think people are angry at c!phil right now because cc!phil wanted them to be. and I'm optimistic about his character moving forward.

#dream smp #philza #meta

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naomana · 2 years

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i feel like the “stop apologizing. you didn’t do anything wrong.” would rlly fit old ass (m3) joevito but idk

Full prompt list here

“ stop apologizing. you didn’t do anything wrong. “ M3 Vito/Joe

Sorry it took me so long, I only got back home from work and since this is a little bit longer, it took me a while to write it °ß°

It was all over. Marcano was gone and Lincoln decided to leave for Chicago, taking Donovan with him. Leaving everything behind to Vito, who was honored but struggled with it all at the same time. He's never had so many rackets before but was determined to make it work. In the end it was everything he really wanted since he joined this lifestyle.

But at the same time, he wanted to remember where he's come from and how far did he have to go to achieve it. Keeping that shithole restaurant was one of the good ways to keep him somewhat humble. He didn't really know how to cook, he was decent at the best, but it was still something that made him feel connected to his family.

He was just chopping some carrots when he heard the front door opening. He was sure he locked it. And having no idea who it was, his first reaction was to reach for his gun he had hidden behind his apron. And then he heard that damn voice.

"Vito?" Vito froze in movement, eyes wide open. Was he dreaming? Was he imagining things? Was he going crazy?

"Vito." The voice resonated through the restaurant again and Vito quickly pulled off his apron, rushing to the front to have a look with his own eyes, seriously questioning his own sanity.

And there it was. There HE was. 17 years older, looking like he just crawled out of trash, but pretty much alive. So those 17 years were not too kind on him either huh? Of course not, he was meant to be dead.

"Is this.. some kind of a.." Vito was babbling, couldn't even form a sentence that would make sense.

"I can imagine this comes as a surprise to you." Joe took of his gloves and put them in his pocket, looking at his old friend.

"Surprise? I thought you were dead! Dammit!" Vito wasn't sure whenever to be happy or pissed off. If he was alive this whole time, why the fuck did he not find him? Did he know Vito was alive? Was he told otherwise? He needed answers.

"Wanna sit down and talk about it?"

"Wanna sit down and talk about it? That's a serious question? Get your ass over here. What the fuck, Joe? WHAT THE FUCK?" He lost it. He was shouting, unsure if it was angry shout or just.. shocked. He couldn't even move to hit him, or hug him.. or just gently touch him to assure his mind that he wasn't going nuts.

Joe sat down on one of the many chairs and gestured Vito to sit down with him. It took him a minute to calm down, but when he did, he grabbed bottle of whiskey and two glasses, pouring them both a drink before he sat down in front of his childhood friend.

"Do you want me to take it briefly or do you want me to go into details?"

"Briefly, quickly.. Details. Shit I don't know. My head is gonna explode with tons of questions and theories. Just fucking tell me something. Anything." Vito emptied his glass in one quick movement and poured himself another one, watching Joe's hand just holding the glass.

"I thought you were dead." Vito said a lot calmer.. and softer.

"I know. And I'm sorry for that." Joe finally took a sip from his glass and placed it back on the table, watching Vito's expression.

"Well after that shit with Carlo and Galante, I managed to escape and run to Chicago. There I faked my death with the help of my old friends.."

"You mean.. Those bastards I got killed?" Vito asked quietly, hoping the answer would be no.

"Exactly those. Look Vito, I don't hold grudge over it. You did it because of me, so I get it. Heck, you know I'd do the same thing in your position. But as I was saying, I faked my death to get off Galante's and commision's tracks. Did couple of small time things around Chicago, until I got ahold of Eddie. Together we figured what happened at Empire Bay was a set up and we got caught in the middle of it all. Managed to talk to Galante and explain myself in front of the commision. You could say they let me off with a slap on the wrist. And Galante offered a job as his driver, boring shit to keep me under control in case I'd try to pull up another stupid shit like the dope business."

"That explains why are you alive, but why did you not contact me?" The question was burning Vito's tongue, or maybe it was the third glass of whiskey he just finished.

"I'm so sorry Vito. I was told if I'd ever try to contact you, they'd make sure we are dead dead this time. Said we're not good together. I don't care about myself, I could always take care of myself but you.. I guess hearing what they'd do to you if I tried to talk to you made me worried for you."

"So what are you doing here? Why are you here?"

"Well.. Galante's not doing so good these days. Probably got couple of days left. Half the commision si pissing their pants over this shit your friend pulled up here. Thought if there's a good opportunity to take them all down, it would be now. And I could use your help Vito."

"I'm really sorry Vito. I understand if you are mad at me." Joe said as Vito was just quietly staring at his empty glass.

"God, 17 years I've been mourning you."

"I know. I'm sorry."

"Jesus. Stop apologizing."

"I'm sorry."

"Stop apologizing. You didn't do anything wrong." Vito pushed the table aside, causing the glasses and bottle fall to the ground with the typical clink of broken glass and pulled Joe into tight embrace. Joe didn't protest one bit, even when he felt his shoulder getting wet, thanks to Vito's tears. Heck, he had to really restain himself to not cry as well.

#mafia3 #mafia2 #vito scaletta #joe barbaro #vito/joe #writting prompt #short prompt

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songbird-wings · 3 years

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for the fic prompts: anakin and aayla are about the same age and I like to think they grew up together as their masters, obi-wan and quinlan, were close so I'd love to maybe read something with them being friends and teasing each other as adults. so idk if you want to write something like this but if you do I think it could be cool. love you!!

i LOVE this prompt Maddie! I had so much fun with this one, I really hope you enjoy! (Also read it on Ao3)

Racing Through Memories

Anakin hated library duty. It was boring, quiet, and he hated the stuffy Masters that paid no attention to him when he asked if they needed assistance. This job made him feel invisible. But Master Kenobi always told him it was an important duty given to Padawans his age, and that it would teach him the importance of tranquility, knowledge and practice. That didn’t make it any less boring.

He sat now in a far corner of the library, eyeing the stacks of papers and holo-disks he needed to organize. They towered above him on his desk, some coated in a thin layer of dust. He wondered if they really needed to be sorted or if Jocasta Nu just ran out of other tasks for him to do.

“Anakin… psst!” A whisper came from behind him. He spun around maybe a little too quickly, his padawan braid smacking him in the face. His eyes scanned the shelves but he saw nothing. Surely he wasn’t hearing things. Anakin got to his feet and approached the area the noise came from. When he reached the bookshelf he paused, he quickly jumped into the aisle. Empty. That can’t be right, he was sure he heard something. Anakin shook his head and turned back to his desk.

“Hi Anakin!” Aayla greeted quietly. Anakin's shriek however was not as muffled.

“Aayla!” He lowered his voice, once he calmed down. “Stop scaring me like that. It’s not funny.” Aayla just snorted and skipped over to his desk as he sat back in his chair.

“I think it’s pretty funny. Besides, it’s probably the most excitement you’ve had after being assigned library duty.” She jokes, running a finger over a holo-disk and scrunching her nose at the dust left on her fingers.

“What are you doing here? Come to gloat at my misery?” Anakin says with a smirk, using the force to take the top hoploads off their pile and set them in front of him. Aayla chuckled.

“Not exactly.” He watched as Aayla reached into her robes and pulled out two slips of paper. Tickets. She held them up to her and he recognized them instantly; Podracing.

“Woah!” Anakin gasped, snatching the tickets from her hand. “How did you get these? I thought Podracing wasn’t popular on Coruscant.” Aayla grabs them back, holding them to her chest now.

“It’s not, at least on top. There's an underground course that you can only get into with a ticket. Master Vos took me to one last year but there was a big crash and he never brought me again, although he kept going without me.” The Twi’lek explained leaning onto the side of the desk.

“So these are Master Vos’s tickets.” Asks Anakin. She nodded.

“They are, but he was called away on an assignment and he’ll be out of the system so I thought, why let these go to waste. And then I thought, who else loves podracing?” She takes one ticket extending it to Anakin. He grabs it and stares at it intently, and then reality set back in.

“I can’t go.” He mumbled, holding the ticket back at her.

“Why?” Aayla’s brows furrowed looking at the ticket then to him.

“If Master Kenobi found out I left library duty, and snuck away from the temple to go to an underground podracing match, he might send me back to Tatooine.” Anakin slouched in his chair.

“Oh come on!” Aayla whined. “It’ll only be for a few hours. No one will know you’re gone. Please, it’ll be fun!” She pleaded, nearly bouncing up and down. Anakin so wanted to say yes. He hadn't been to a podrace in forever. He missed the excitement and adrenaline that came along with the sport. Aayla did say they would only be gone a few hours. Master Kenobi wouldn’t suspect anything.

“Okay fine, I’m in!” He exclaims. Aayla squealed and then checked the time on the clock above them.

“Meet me by the statues on the south exit of the Temple in four hours.” She instructed him as she began walking away. “Don’t be late!”

Slipping out of the library was much easier than Anakin originally anticipated. The librarian was nowhere to be seen and it was late so the isles were pretty much empty. He quickly made his way to the south exit and outside near the statues was Aayla was waiting for him. “You still have your ticket?” She asks, holding up her own.

“Yes.” Anakin responds fishing it out of his robes. “But how are we getting there? You didn’t forget about that little detail did you?” Aayla scoffed.

“You think so little of me, Anakin. Follow me.” She said and she led him down the steps of the temple where a speeder bike was parked and waiting.

“Where did you get this?” Anakin awes, he makes his way over to it admiring the design.

“My Master gave it to me as a gift. I’m not supposed to use it without his supervision, but, he’s not in the system so he’ll never know.” She shrugged, getting on the vehicle and starting the engine. “Get on and hold on.” Anakin climbed on behind her and gripped the sides of the bike as she drove it into a lane. The bike shook and chugged beneath them and there was a faint smell of burning metal emitting from the engine.

“You know, if you opened the couplets and tightened the bolts near the exhaust, it would run a lot smoother.” He shouted over the sounds of traffic.

“Okay, you can do that once you're done with library duty if you care so much about it!” Aayla teased back, steering them down below the surface. They descended further and further, until Anakin began feeling a little anxious. But he pushed that feeling away, and replaced it with his excitement over the podrace. It was darker on this level, the only light coming from the lamps on the streets. Finally, Aayla parked their bike and the padawans climbed off.

“You didn’t get us lost did you?” Anakin chides, pulling his hood over his face, watching Aayla do the same. She just rolls her eyes.

“Come on, it’s about to start!” She says and takes off down the road. Anakin chases after her until she stops in front of a building. It definitely doesn’t look like an entire podracing course could be inside it’s small frame. But below his feet, Anakin could feel the ground rumble, just slightly.

“Tickets!” A raspy voice shouted out from the ticket booth in the front of the building. Aayla nudged Anakin, prompting him to show the ticket. The woman in the booth scanned the tickets and then the padawans. “Watch yourselves in there, kids.” She says nodding in the direction of the door.

“Thank you!” Aayla told her, as Anakin pushed her way past eager to be the first in the door. On the other side was a staircase that led them down into a large chasm of a room. They seemed to be on a balcony that overlooked the circular podracing course. The room was packed, dimly lit, and smelled of drinks and something Anakin could’t place, but it wasn’t pleasant. He didn’t care though, the familiar hum of the repulsorcrafts racing in the course called to him. He ran to the edge to watch, ignoring Aayla as she told him to wait.

He found a spot he could squeeze into and looked over the edge at the race. The course was huge, built in segments with different terrain, one sector being desert and another a dense forest. He watched as the repulsorcrafts dodged and weaved at dangerous speeds through the trees and he even cheered with the rest of the crowd once the last racer cleared the forest. He sensed Aayla coming up behind him and he moved over a few inches to give her space.

“You see that one?” She pointed at one of the podracers near the front. Their repulsorcraft was small, and painted in purples and light greens. The vehicle was driven by a Rodian woman and she was picking up speed quickly. “That’s Alvee Chunteff, she’s won so many races down here. My Master is a huge fan.” Aayla explains, shouting over the noise. She and Anakin stand on their tiptoes as the racers round the curve of the course, trying to get a better look.

“Here she comes!” Anakin says as she passes the racer already in first place, taking the lead. The podracers zoom past them sending a plume of dirt in the air but the padawans cheer anyway. The excitement distracts them, and Anakin didn’t sense the figures coming up behind them before it was too late. Hands grab at their shoulders and pull them from the crowd to the back of the room, cornering them against the wall. They were pirates, drunk pirates by the smell of it. Anakin reached for his lightsaber but Aayla grabbed his arm, shaking her head, no.

“Hey kiddos.” One of them coughed out. He reached down and ran his finger along Aayla's padawan beads. She flinched away and Anakin stepped in front of her. “Long way from the Temple isn't ya!”

“Leave us alone!” Anakin shouted to the pirates, there were three of them, blocking any direction he could run.

“Ah, see, that’s just not gonna happen.” The one in front of him laughed. “I’ve noticed ya don’t seem to have any Masters with ya. What a shame.” He shook his head stepping closer. “Do you know how valuable you are to the Jedi, hm? Do ya? How much would the council pay for two padawans to be returned to home safely?” Almost like an alarm going off in his mind, Anakin sensed the one on his left lunging forward and grabbing Aayla, before his hand could even touch her, Anakin reached out and sent the pirate sailing across the room, slamming him against the wall. The room stood still for only a moment until the noises and the movement started again.

“Run!” Anakin yelled, grabbing Aayla’s arm, taking the new opening he’s created.

“After those kids!” The pirate shouted behind them. Anakin and Aayla made their way through the crowd, back towards the way they came in, but it seemed more pirates were in the crowd than chasing behind them. Hands were grabbing at them, slowing them down. One grip was a little too strong and the pirate yanked Anakin back making him fall to the sticky floor. He opened his eyes and the pirate's cruel smile was above him.

“Ay, boss I’ve got-” Anakin didn’t let him finish as he used the force to send him crashing into the ceiling and falling back down to the floor. Aayla came out from the crowd next to him and pulled him to his feet.

“Let’s go-” Anakin started saying once he was upright again, but he was cut short when he sensed it. Then he saw him. The sound of a lightsaber activating quieted the room.

“Those padawans are more trouble than they’re worth. I’d leave them alone if I were you.” Obi-Wan's voice filtered over the crowd. Anakin was torn between running into his Master's arms, or running away back to the Temple. He wasn’t given a choice. “Anakin, Aayla, you’re leaving. Now!” Anakin could feel the disappointment seeping off of Obi-Wan and it made every step towards his Master even more difficult. The pirates ran past them and the Jedi Knight, back towards the staircase. Obi-Wan pointed in that direction. “The speeder is waiting for you outside.” Aayla and Anakin shared a solemn look before following his orders and exiting the podracing rink.

On the way back to the Temple, it was Aayla who apologizes first, admitting that it was her idea and that she was sorry. “It is not my place to tell you your punishment, young one.” Obi-Wan said to her. “That will be your Masters decision once he returns, as for you, Anakin.”

“I’m sorry, Master. It won’t happen again.” He mumbles to Obi-Wan.

“Oh, I hope not.” The Knight replies.

“How did you find us anyways, Master?” Anakin questions him as they pull into the Temple hanger bay.

“Maybe next time you decide to slip out on your Jedi duties, you do it in a place that doesn’t have so many cameras.” Obi-Wan smirked, stepping out of the speeder. He winked at his apprentice and then pulled Anakins robes tighter around his shoulders.

“I’ll take that into consideration, Master.”

<<<>>>

“It’s Starork taking the lead now as he passes Ikti around the bend, this is a close one folks, it’s too early to say…” The announcer is drowned out by the shouts of the crowd around them. Anakin cheers and gives a high-five to his padawan as the racers continue.

“So, how’s your first podrace going, snips?” He asks her as they settle into their seats, Aayla emerges from the crowd and sets the overpriced snacks onto their table.

“It’s amazing! I can’t believe you did this when you were a kid, Master!” She exclaimed over the noise. “I didn’t know you were such a fan, Master Secura?”

“Oh, your Master and I would always sneak away to races growing up. One time, we ran into pirates while we were down here. Alone. We were very lucky Master Kenobi found us in time.” She explained.

“Alright, you don’t need to give her any ideas, Aayla.” Anakin rolls his eyes.

“Pirates?” Ahsoka sat up in her seat. “I want to hear about that!” Anakin shakes his head.

“Like I said, you don’t need any more reckless ideas in that head of yours.” He says sternly, taking a sip of his drink. “Now c’mon, we’re missing the race.” He motions them over towards the edge of the course.

Ahsoka eyes Aayla once her Master is away from the table, pleading with her eyes. Master Secura laughs at her eagerness. “I’ll tell you the story later, young one. When your Master isn’t around to add in his own version.”

#star wars #ahsoka tano #sw #the clone wars #tcw #anakin skywalker #aayla secura #podracing #star wars fic #obi-wan

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actualmermaid · 6 years

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Oh gosh, chapter 3 had several parts I'd like to know your thought process behind, but I don't know whether I'd rather ask about Thingol Has No Balls, the livestock body horror, or the burial (Rythredionnnnnnnn D: D: D: D: D:)

Today’s your lucky day because I WOULD LIKE TO TALK ABOUT ALL THREE OF THOSE THINGS.Thingol Has No BallsI’m not very good at writing poetry or lyrics, so the Thingol Has No Balls song isn’t very interesting:Thingol has no balls, hey!Thingol has no balls!Without his wallsDown he fallsThingol has no balls, hey!My idea was that it’s actually a much longer song, with several verses insulting multiple aspects of Thingol’s anatomy/personality/martial prowess/sexual prowess/whatever, but that’s all I came up with. It’s the kind of rude song that a bunch of guys would make up to pass the time while cooped up in a fort in the middle of nowhere, but it’s much catchier than it has any right to be. Elrond and/or Elros overheard one of the Feanorian retainers singing it and the rest is history.“It’s a good thing you can substitute anyone else’s name for his, as long as it has two syllables,” Maedhros said helpfully. He paused a moment and then glanced upward, looking thoughtful. “Besides, there is nothing wrong with not having balls, and it’s cheap to imply that there is. I’ll bet you can come up with something much funnier than five-hundred-year-old soldiers’ taunts.”I really liked writing functional!Maedhros as this kind of Chaotic Neutral drunk uncle figure who would be like “I bet you can come up with something even BETTER and RUDER that doesn’t body-shame anyone because that isn’t cool, guys.”Livestock Body Horror It was kind of a snap decision to include the livestock body horror bit (I’m not going to paste it here) as part of showing that the natural world was in disarray immediately following Earendil appearing in the sky (and the beginning of the War of Wrath, though the characters don’t know about that yet). There are powers beyond mortal comprehension fighting for control of Beleriand, and the malformed goats, along with all the other weird environmental stuff that happened, are the unfortunate fallout.I can’t remember exactly where I got the idea for the malformed goats. It might have been after I watched this documentary about wildlife reclaiming Chernobyl (BIGGEST MOOD) and the general interest in a slow ecological apocalypse that informs a lot of my worldbuilding in Pieces of the Stars.Rythredion’s BurialLike the goat thing, the decision to kill off Rythredion wasn’t really planned out until I was already in the middle of the scene. I was mostly running out of things for him to do in the story, and I was getting tired of having to keep track of him, so… RIPDeath followed the house of Fëanor. They all spoke of those who had gone before in lonely accidents and great battles, sometimes suddenly and sometimes after long struggles with wounds and infections, all unexpected endings to lives that should have been everlasting. Each death was a heavy weight on those who remained. They either learned to live with it or they cracked under the strain, like Maedhros had.He had that sort of brotherly moment with Elrond and Elros in the previous chapter, so it added a little bit of an emotional connection to his death, and furthermore it gave me an opportunity for Elrond and Elros to come face-to-face with death (something that’s going to come up later in the story as they become more acquainted with the tradeoffs of mortality vs immortality).Re: the actual burial:Berenas’ friends prepared her body for burial. Maglor and Alagostor did the same for Rythredion. Elrond and Elros did not see them until they were dressed and laid out for the last time, still and solemn, surrounded by garlands of leaves and the tools of their trades. All their blemishes were hidden from view—with his polished helm covering his terrible wound, Rythredion could have been sleeping, but his hand was cold when Elrond touched it.…Rythredion and Berenas came to rest in a green grove not far beyond what remained of the walls. Their friends dug their graves in the soft earth, arranged nests of greenery, and placed them gently on their sides with their knees bent and hands drawn in close as if they were in their own beds. Maglor crouched by Rythredion’s side for a long time, speaking softly and holding his hand. At last, white shrouds were drawn over them both, and all worked to cover them in earth and stack stones into a small mound over each grave. Elrond and Elros, thinking of how Rythredion braided their hair that first evening, worked hard alongside the others.There aren’t a lot of details about elf burials in the Silm, so I got to play around a bit. Since the Noldor are craft-oriented, I figured they would bury their dead with tools, possibly in case they returned to their bodies and needed to start building something right away (idk either). Burying them in a sleeping position also makes sense for a species that doesn’t quite understand permadeath in the way that mortals do. The grave goods, burial position, and mounds are also found in some ancient burials IRL (again, I might have been watching some PBS doc about archaeology and got inspired)

#pieces of the stars #dvd commentary #long post

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