NaNoWriMo Day 28

Today I was far more distracted while attempting to write, but I’m so dang close to the goal that it feels forgiveable. I’m really proud of making it this far, considering writing at all has been a strugglebus this year.

Word Count: 1115


He turned his face to the sky, where clouds mottled the starry canopy. The half-moons all seemed dull, even when the wisps of cloud moved away from their faces. He sat for some time upon the broken plaza and piles of charred wood and broken weapons in a silent lament. Trace was once again the Empty God.

NaNoWriMo Day 27

Another productive day! I’m pretty pleased about that. The week 4 slump was pretty bad up until last night, and I’m hoping I can have another good writing day tomorrow.

Word Count: 1710


“Who’s that, brother? Friend of yours?”

The voice was tired, broken, weak. Trace turned to his twin. Biim barely clung to consciousness, his eyes narrowed against the blood that ran down his face, and yet here he was finding strength to speak. He searched Trace’s look with something like disbelief, maybe distrust.

Trace didn’t lie to him. He didn’t say anything at all. That seemed to get his message across better than words ever would. Biim accepted it with a faint nod.

NaNoWriMo Day 26

I missed a couple days due to slow writing ending at Too Late O’Clock and also not liking much of what I wrote. But I’m back today! It’s more Fiorebell today.

Also, Happy Thanksgiving for those of you who celebrate it!

Word Count: 1863


Trace was not quick to anger. In truth, Trace was not quick to feel anything at all.

Rage burned hot and uncomfortable, but he would put it to use. Trace pushed the sword back violently with a stray thought, breaking the wrist of the man that held it. He cried out and dropped the weapon, which splattered blood that stained the cobblestones gray. Trace’s wound healed within a few seconds.

NaNoWriMo Day 13

Late post! I was slow to write today. Blame my grocery trip after work. Today I did more work on the Fiorebell story, and got to introduce the titular character. It’s really tough to write love stories oh my god.

Word Count: 1701


Trace wondered, as he sat and wiled away the time, if Fiorebell suspected what he was. Why he could change his shape so readily, and why he was so measured with every expression he offered.

Their next meeting couldn’t come fast enough. He’d never really felt a need to be impatient before, and yet the cloying feeling settled in his core. He wasn’t meant to fall into a routine on his walkabout on the earth. He wasn’t meant to focus too much on one area as he learned about the world.

He wasn’t supposed to mingle too much with the divine, but here he was thinking only of her. She was indeed divine, whether or not she could reside in the Other like he could. He wasn’t sure what that feeling meant. It intrigued and worried and excited him.

NaNoWriMo Day 10

I wrote a decent amount today I think! I was kind of wishy washy on what I wanted to work on for a bit, but I ended up doing more work on Fiorebell.

Word Count: 1740


More vines and smaller branches snaked their way after him, tangling his limbs and working their way up towards his face. This, Trace could not allow.

A small jab of purely mental pain lashed out from him, first at the tree and then to the surrounding area. Things faltered for a moment, but still he found himself wrapped up more and more and drawn ever closer to the trunk of that tree.

With a flash of silver eyes, Trace spread a hand wide and conjured up a flame, small and bright and eerily grey, above his palm. The light alone would be enough to scorch paper, and the vines attacking that arm drew back.

NaNoWriMo Day 9

I wrote a very small amount last night before conking out with a headache. My brain was like No! But luckily I did plenty of writing today. Today I worked on a story tentatively called Fiorebell, a complete rehash and rewrite of a story I wrote … like 15 years ago. Gosh the old one needed an update.

Anyway, I think this is the first time any writing about Trace, one of my earliest OCs, has made it to my blog!

Word Count: 1914


“I came from the south, I think” Trace mused, making a show of looking over his shoulder at the door. “The fields led me this way.”

The woman nodded. “Well. You’ve come a long way, so it’s no surprise you don’t know. Be careful exploring the woods, won’t you dear? There’s witches and the like up those mountains. Nasty business.”

Trace’s brow pinched. “Oh. Do they come close?”

She shook her head. “Not as long as the fields are in view. So you should always keep us in sight if you decide to explore the trees, and I’ll be sure to keep track; if you go missing, I can let someone know about trying to find you.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Trace reassured her. “I don’t plan to do anything stupid.”

NaNoWriMo Day 12

I was off to a slower start today, but then the characters sort of reminded me of the plot. It’s getting to be a lot of fun! Not that Finnraal thinks so.

Word Count: 25250


“I am, well, I’m a death god.”

Finnraal frowned. “Another death god?”

Percival replied with a shy smile and held up his hand with only his thumb tucked towards his palm. “I don’t blame you for not knowing, but I’m actually the fourth death god. But that is beside the point.”

Muunfel Lore Bits #5

Cira Dawn isn’t the first Oracle that has ever taken up residence in her temple, but she might be the most decorated. The power that grants her the position enables her to see not only the futures, but a lot of the past as well, with almost all of time accessible to her with some effort. It also gives her the ability to create and resolve paradoxes on a whim.

Cira also communes with beings not on the physical plane, especially the gods. Many of them find her amusing or endearing, and would protect her if the need arose. In return, sometimes they are allowed to ride along in her headspace to view the world from a slightly more mortal perspective.

Muunfel Lore Bits #4

Trace is the common name for the god of Mind, Patience, and Curses, but it isn’t the name he originally had. Nobody knows anymore what he used to be called, not even the deities that are supposed to know things like this. As the quiet, emotionless deity that he is, Trace is not forthcoming with the name, or even details about how exactly he lost it.

Diakon, the god of destruction and something of a parent/father to Trace, is said to have destroyed his name. Diakon is not going to elaborate on these rumors anytime soon.

Pantheon Spotlight: Death Gods

The pantheon of Muunfel has four different gods of death, and one former god of death whose position has been usurped. In the original creation of gods, two death gods came to be, and since then three have ascended.

Cel/Erom, God of the Journey’s End

Depending on the region, this god of righteous and heroic death has two names. Cel is a stalwart protector of the souls that have died fighting a battle (and the definition of a battle can be loose). His luminous wings are said to be the source of the first light of morning, a tribute to the heroes that passed the day before.

Sarin & Corbin

Sarin was one of the first gods, and his domain was once over murderous and unjust death. His position was usurped by Corbin, who ascended with the help of a very accomplished sorceress that rumors say had been a one-time lover to Sarin. Corbin now presides over disasters and murders, and Sarin is still learning his role as the god of machines.

Clover, The Dead God

Clover was an accomplished doctor and healer in her life as a human. Her dedication to her duty caught Cel’s eye. Her life happened to coincide with the first known case of a mortal ascending to godhood, and Cel was determined to have Clover among the pantheon.

Knowing these plans, Sarin had her killed. Cel defied his own domain to prevent Clover from dying, and helped her to ascend instead. This, however, made her the first undead, and thereafter the undead could roam the world with Clover as their patron goddess.

Percival, The Dreamweaver

Percival is one of the more recent ascended gods, but his place among the death gods is welcome. In life, Percival entertained the sick and dying with his music playing, and he had a particular charm with young children. This opened a path for him to become the god of child death, a more gentle hand to lead young souls to rest. He is also a god of dreams, and these skills of his are often linked.