Last Friday, I was asked to write a guest post for Thomas Knight on fantasy architecture, for his 29 Days of Fantasy event. Writing it was a blast, and here’s an excerpt from it.
You’ve all seen Lord of the Rings, right? (If you haven’t, go watch all three, and come back tomorrow. You’ll thank me). Now, most people think about the story, the sweeping epic tale of victory through perseverance. I’m not going to talk about that. I’m going to talk about something a little duller: Architecture. Specifically, Fantasy Architecture.
In Lord of the Rings, it mostly lives in the background, created through the use of brilliant fantasy art and CG. And in fantasy stories, that’s all too often where it lives – the background. And if it’s not in the background, it’s architecture that looks Asian or European, architecture that draws on landscapes and vistas taken from the medieval world.
In both cases, the author is missing out on a wonderful opportunity to create a mood, a feeling that carries throughout the novel. Take modern architectural design – a well traveled person can look at a city and see exactly where he or she is. And that’s how architecture should be used in fantasy as well.
Here’s some fantasy art that conveys much of what I’m looking for. Yes, I know, it’s a boat, not a building. But it’s unique, and different, and I bought that book (and read it) based on just the cover. And while the architecture of your fantasy society might not sit on the cover of your book, once the reader turns to the first page, you can be damn sure it’s going to make an impression.
Okay, great, you’re saying. Architecture matters. But I’m not an architect and I haven’t got a clue how a building is designed. And it doesn’t matter. It’s called fantasy for a reason. The construction process doesn’t need to be described in detail, the building doesn’t need to pass contemporary safety codes, and the author shouldn’t let fine detail cramp a good story.
So, you want to do that. You want architecture that fits the story without taking too much space. First step – for each culture, pick one or two words or phrases that describe their architectural design. As an example, I’ll use ‘Open’ and ‘Windy’. (I’m cheating, by the way. I already built this culture). ‘Open’ – most contemporary architecture uses this to mean open plan, but think a little outside the box – remove walls. So every building has no exterior walls, aside from some grass mats that can be rolled down in a storm.
To read the rest, just click on through.
This is the second post in a series about the process of writing. Each week, I will discuss one aspect with a Pantser, while I’ll provide my (a Plotter’s) point of view. For those who don’t know the terms, a Pantser is an author who writes more or less without a plan, while a Plotter is someone who lays everything out before starting work. As with most things in life, there’s a spectrum between the two. Personally, I plot everything over about 10k words in length. Under that, I freewrite. Mandy Ward, my guest author this week, is mostly a Pantser, as she’ll explain shortly.
This week’s topic is Distraction, or just how much those new ideas can drag us off course in a story. Read on to see how one of those crazy Pantser people does it, and then follow the link at the bottom to see my response.
I have been both a Plotter and a Pantser. When I started out on the steep climb of the Writing Path, I read every single creative writing book I could get my hands on… and as the accepted way to build stories in the Fantasy Genre (my favourite one) is to build a whole world before you even touch the first chapter / prologue, I did just that.
For two whole years, I built my world and plotted my story out, each chapter receiving a short paragraph of what was going to happen in it.
*snorts*
What no one mentioned in those writing books is that all that plotting and building is useless when you start actually writing the story!
What does this have to do with distraction?
I’m glad you asked. You see I just demonstrated the answer to the question I was asked, when I was asked to write this blog post. It’s an interesting question to be asked actually…
Quit rambling. Get to the point!
*grins*
What point do you want me to get to? I could continue with the story about me writing my first (ill-fated) novel, I could continue my line of thought about why the question is interesting, or I could go off on a completely different tangent!
You’re doing it deliberately now. Go back to the beginning. What was the question that you were asked to answer for this post?
Hmm? What? Oh, sorry, yes… that’s what I was doing… I got slightly distracted for a moment or two there. Y’see. I’m currently multitasking and I was taken away from the computer to start dinner, do a load of washing and finish the row I was on. I’m currently typing one handed… excuse me a second…
Okay then. Where was I?
The question I’d been asked to answer was “How easy are you to distract to another project?” from the Pantser point of view.
*looks back at the previous 300 odd words and grins*
The answer is: I’m an easily distracted person anyway.
All sorts of things distract me and having more than one muse doesn’t help. When I’m supposed to be writing, my crafting muse will kick in and suggest a project for knitting or making jewellery. When I’m trying to finish a knitting project, I’ll get a story idea screamed at me by my writing muse.
I’m a little like a pinball in that respect. I hurtle from project to project without much in the way of a plan.
And that’s where my initial start point came from… I started out in writing being a Plotter and that helped a lot with my focus in the beginning phases of building a world and a story, but as soon as I started writing, the story caught me up and I became a Pantser.
Therefore, that’s where I stayed. Happily in fact.
Oh, I’ll write with an idea of where I’m going in my head and for a while the story will flow along well, but then an idea for something completely different will poke its nose in and I absolutely have to get the idea down in a rough format.
I have eleven WIP now, and I’m not even counting the number of short stories I’ve started and not finished…
One of these is a five book series, which a publisher has contracted me for. Wisely, my Editor has reassured me that I don’t have a specific deadline to finish the series in (See how well she knows me!)
I am collaborating on a children’s book series that is being self-published. The illustrator (who also knows how I work) prods me to do stuff every so often, in an effort to get things moving.
I have another YA Series which is far from being in a publishable state and a SF/Fantasy novel which has ground to a halt, a paranormal series that isn’t close to being ready (but has interest from a publisher) yet I can’t work on Paranormal while I’m writing Sword & Sorcery…
So in answer to the question – “How easy are you to distract to another project?”
I would say that I’m very easy to distract, it’s getting me to focus that is the hard part!
So, this is the first post in a new series about the process of writing. Each week, I will discuss one aspect with a Pantser, while I’ll provide my (a Plotter’s) point of view. For those who don’t know the terms, a Pantser is an author who writes more or less without a plan, while a Plotter is someone who lays everything out before starting work. As with most things in life, there’s a spectrum between the two. Personally, I plot everything over about 10k words in length. Under that, I freewrite. Megg Jensen, my guest author this week, Pantses everything, as she’ll explain shortly.
As we’re both fantasy authors, this week’s topic is World Building, the process of creating those settings that give flavour and excitement to stories not of this world. Read on to see how one of those crazy Pantser people does it, and then follow the link at the bottom to see my response.
When I have the initial idea for a novel, it’s always a tiny spark inside my mind. I will spend days, sometimes months, thinking about where this spark leads. I allow it to live and grow organically, but only in my thoughts. My preferred genre is fantasy, and all of my novels have been written in a world based upon medieval Europe. I have a BA in medieval history and the familiar conventions and customs are firmly rooted in my consciousness.
When I sit down at my laptop and begin a new novel, I am focused more on character than world. Usually the idea for a story comes from a feeling, or an incident. I know what my character wants (which, as we all know is not the same as what a character needs) and write from there. As a YA (young adult) novelist, my books hover between 50,000 to 60,000 words and I rarely think about the ending until I hit 35,000 to 40,000 words.
Rivers, a hidden grove, an isolated island – all these markers on a map spring up while I’m writing. For instance, in ANATHEMA, a character mentioned a range of mountains in the first chapter. It was an offhand comment by a minor character, but one that solidified itself in my mind. Those mountains became a bit more important in the sequel and will be very important in the final novel of the trilogy.
I didn’t plan the mountains. A character told me, and the reader, that the mountains exist. Voila, mountains in this world.
I didn’t spend all my time in college studying castles and knights in shining armor. Religion, and its impact on women, was a huge focus of much of my coursework. My worlds always have a touch of religion and women’s rights thrown in. I don’t consciously do so, or feel that I need to drive home any particular point about them either, however they always make some kind of appearance.
I enjoy the juxtaposition of tropes from the past of our world, combined with people in an entirely imagined world. I strive to stay away from preaching any particular dogma on social or religious issues, but I adore setting an idea in place and watching how it affects all of my characters, rather than letting them change the conventions of the world. We are all victims, in a sense, to the world surrounding us. How we deal with it and maneuver around it is far more interesting than the rules themselves.
As a lover of fantasy, I know magic always has restrictions. Unlimited power is, quite frankly, boring. I’ve never written a novel where magic is accessible to every character and those who do have it usually are able to wield magic in a unique, and hopefully, unpredictable way. Again, it’s not the magic that’s interesting, but the way it’s utilized.
All these reasons lead to why I am pantser in world building (and all aspects of first draft writing). If I write down the rules of a world then I spend too much time fretting about whether or not I’m following them. Spelling it out is like a death sentence for my writing because then my characters aren’t allowed to explore their world; I find they’re more confined by it.
How would I know this if I’m a pantser? Easy. I tried to force myself into being a plotter. The Spock on my shoulder tells me that order and laws make the world a more perfect place. The Kirk inside me jumps on the teleporter and leads an away mission, even though he knows his place is really on the bridge.
On the novel I attempted to world build before the first draft, I found I was bored with it before I even started writing. If I had everything figured out in the beginning, what was the fun in trying to write it? For me, the discovery of the world while writing is the most thrilling part. It allows me to be a reader of my own works, which is the most amazing gift.
Editing, however, is a totally different and detail-oriented beast. That’s when I let my inner-Spock out to play.
Welcome, welcome back to the second instalment of Birthing the Breed. Last time around I showed you how to create the physical aspect of a fantasy race. This time around I’m going to focus on the behavioural. This is important for several reasons, for it dictates how the creature acts, how the society around it is built, and in some ways how the setting hangs together. Fantasy fiction, more than any other, hangs on the setting, and the aura that it creates.
Choice #2: Behaviour – Is the creature a hunter? A farmer? Does it like solitary occupations or tribal ones? As with the prior post, this single question is going to take up the rest of the article, and I’ll break it out into subheadings once more.
Predator or Prey – Is the creature a predator animal, or a prey animal? In more civilized terms, does it hunt, or does it farm? A good example of the prey animal as a civilization is the traditional, lord of the rings elves. They care for and nurture nature, they live in large clusters, and their racial tendencies are towards pacifism and “living with”, rather than “taking from”. Contrast that with a traditional predator, the half orc or orc. In almost every RPG or fantasy setting, from Eberron to the Wheel of Time (Trollocs), orcs and their cousins are aggressive, greedy, militaristic and evil. This is how a traditional fantasy setting portrays predator behaviour.
There are a wide variety of nuanced ways to discuss fantasy races, and it’s important not to make them too black or white, as otherwise the setting feels too generic, too simplistic. Most societies are a mixture of predator and prey, but here are the important characteristics to choose from for each.
Creatures from a predator race are more likely to be solitary, to be focused on a single task, aggressive in personality, larger, less focused on the family unit, and more acquisitive in nature. They are also more common to play the villain in settings where an entire race is cast as the villain, rather than a kingdom.
Creatures from a prey race are more likely to stick together, to work in tribal units with sentries provided by experienced members, to farm, more pacific in personality, and less focused on personal greed, although for members of a prey race, that is by no means certain.
Society - Closely related to how a race behaves in a fantasy setting is the way the society it lives in is constructed. Is the society a traditional human one, of busy cities and farms around the outside providing food? If so, it’s fairly similar to the feudal system of Medieval Europe, which was imposed from the top down by nobles who sought to control the output from those farms. Or is it a wandering tribal society? In the real world and in fantasy, these racial traits are usually assigned to an ethnicity living in a desert or tropical jungle.
The most important aspect of society to determine is whether it is an imposed society, or an agreed upon society. Effectively, dictatorship or democracy. A dictatorship, be it of the few or the many, means that that group somehow seized power, or was placed in power, and is now holding it over every other member of the race. An agreed upon society allows the leaders to be removed without bloodshed (presumably), and in the world of traditional fantasy, tends to be ruled by mercantile interests who see money as their prime objective, rather than force.
All of these societies have social stratification, resulting in a setting where some creatures are always better than others. This creates many opportunities in the fantasy world for sub-plots, be they looking for advancement, the disdain of “betters”, a people’s rebellion, an overthrow from a dispossessed branch of the royal family. Always make sure to create a society with friction points, places where racial inequality can come to the fore, because that is where the character will shine.
I hope this has been helpful to you in creating new races for your fantasy fiction. Next time, we’ll look at another aspect of creating a fantasy race.
23
May
I thought I’d change things up a little bit this week, and given people three writing prompts to choose from. One is SF, one is Fantasy, and the last one is, well, something. If you do write a story based on one of these, give me a link, because I’d love to see what they inspire.
SF – An interstellar empire crumbles as their engines slowly stop working, for no known reason
Fantasy – A flame sputtered and then died, and with it magic began to drain from the world
Other – Rifts appear, and from them step both angels and devils
This time over at Examiner.com. It’s a lot more focused on my upcoming book, Tarranau, what it was like writing it, what I think of the book. Stop by and take a look.
10
May
So, I have been interviewed once more, this time on the subject of World Building, how I got about it, what order I do it in, and so on. I highly recommend it if you want to get a look inside the process I use.
Greetings, James!
It is nice to have you back again for another interview. It was hard picking just one subject to interview you on last time, so I am so pleased that we can get back together for another writing romp. You have put a great deal of thought into building your world. Today, we are going to explore just what you went through to build your setting for your Four Part Land novels. Thank you for taking time out of your busy day to talk a little on how you built your world and why it turned out as it did.
Do you remember the first moment that your world was conceived? Does anything stand out to you as being the major source of inspiration for your setting?
Races form the background to a fantasy setting, giving it a depth and a texture that would otherwise be missing. They bind themselves to the environment, to the geography, in a way that few other genres can match, and in doing so they bring that landscape alive. It is very rare to pass through a fantasy book without hearing about the connection between a race and its locations, be it the holy retreat in the desert, or the high passes that gave birth to its culture.
Amongst these, the most famous are the elves, dwarves, hobbits/halflings, orcs and other creatures that sprung from the pages of myth and Tolkien. They have strong legends and many vivid depictions, but they also have a singular drawback – they are known. If you ask a fantasy reader about an elf, each one will have their own distinct impression of what elves, or orcs, or dragons, looks like and behaves. As an author, this means there is a certain inertia when it comes to describing those races, that they have fairly firm boundaries in the mind as to what is a “true” elf.
The solution to this inertia is to use new races, created for a given setting and without the extra baggage that comes with using the traditional fantasy cast. And so today, I’m going to start a series on how to design a new race for fantasy. If you’ve read my Creating a Magic System series, you’ll recognize the style.
Choice #1: Physical Form – What does it look like? Where can it live? What can it do? The critical question for many people, and one that will consume the rest of this post. Because of that, I’m going to split it into a variety of subheadings to make each section a little clearer.
Environment – Where a creature lives is critical to determining all other factors. A race that houses itself in a desert oasis will not likely have the same characteristics as one that was bred in a tundra. So before designing a fantasy race, remember to choose the primary environs where it will be housed. And remember, “everywhere” is an option. Humans have adapted to the Andes, Sahara, Siberia, Jamaica, and everywhere in between, so it’s perfectly reasonable to have a race that can do the same. I would recommend, however, that the more races you plan on introducing to the setting, the more likely it is they will have environment specific traits.
Movement – I’ve placed this before the actual physical form of the creature, because it dictates much of that form. A creature that primarily swims will have a streamlined body and either large paws or a strong tail for propulsion in the water. One that climbs will have strong, agile hands and feet, while one that is a runner is generally, long, low, with four powerful limbs on the ground. A creature that levitates can have almost any shape or form desired. Please note that these are generalities, and straying from them is by no means forbidden. The Platypus and Echidna exist, after all.
I usually research a creature that exists in a similar environment, and borrow a few traits that I think might be worthwhile. This is why the Áðexe have leathery skin – it’s borrowed from crocodiles for swimming.
Limbs - The number of limbs on a creature are fairly important, because of the mental associations that a reader generally holds. On Earth, creatures with four limbs are generally mammalian, and usually among the larger species, while those with six or eight (or more) are usually insectoid or arachnid, or live in the sea. Because of this, there is an inbuilt reaction that large creatures with six or more limbs may not work. Usually we readers are willing to believe, but it is necessary to tread a little more lightly with unusual races as a result
Regardless of the number of limbs, the breed in question should have at least one pair that can perform fine manipulation. Otherwise, unless they are telekinetic, they can’t manipulate tools. Aside from the ability to manipulate tools, the limbs should be designed for moving about in the environment in which the breed exists. The limbs should be proportional to the body they are attached to, although there is certainly leeway in that term.
Finally, do not forget that because the race is fantastical in nature, if it has inherent magic it can ignore many of these restrictions, because it has power beyond simply the physical.
Body – I’ll finish up the post today talking about the overall shape of the creature. The shape of a creature, and the coverings that go on top of it, can be almost anything the imagination can devise, from a hybrid lion-frog to an ephemeral wisp of energy that is nevertheless sentient. And one might be covered in pink polka dots (please don’t), while another might be rust and sand coloured patterning for better hiding in a desert high in iron.
Generally, the more time the race will spend on the screen as a talking character, the closer it is to a bipedal humanoid. This is because it is easier for a reader to relate to the character if it can understand some of his characteristics. However, the opposite is also true. The more the author wants a character to be alien, the more non-human traits are placed onto the character. A wonderful example of this is the traditional dragon – it’s both alien, yet very representative of human characteristics. Why? Because they can shapeshift between draconic (alien) and human (understood) form. Generally the “good” dragons spend more time in human form, and with humans, whereas the “bad” dragons spend their time sitting on piles of gold and lording over the surrounding countryside as a personification of evil.
The physical shape of the body is dictated by the environment – streamlined for running, flying or swimming, more upright and with larger limbs for slower creatures that can manipulate tools more easily. And for levitating or magically powered creatures, anything goes.
For the hide of the creature, there’s two primary characteristics – texture and colouring. Is it hair, scales, leather, chitinous? And then is it camouflaged, brightly coloured as a warning to others, or can it change the tone of its skin to match the environment. Scales and chitin are usually found in warmer climates, while leather and hair are warmer and found in even the coldest regions. As for skin tone, bright colours are more usually found on prey animals, while camouflage is found on both predator and prey.
Now, I know much of the advice today seems like it would be more applicable to creating an actual creature, as opposed to a race that’s supposed to play the part of a character in a story, but don’t worry, we’re coming to that in the next couple installments.
So it’s been a little while since I’ve updated this series, and for that I apologize. However, in the meantime I’ve been working on finalizing the contest that will run after this post is over, as well as being delayed by the real life monster. I am now back, and have enough free time that I’ll be able to resume posting fantasy writing tips each week.
With that said, lets get back to Ferrous Timber. For those who can’t remember the first post about the magic system, it’s here. So we’re half way through the Creating a Magic System posts, and we have Magical Interaction and Items and Artefacts to go, as well as Other Considerations. Lets get to it.
Choice #5: Magical Interaction – How does one half of Ferrous Timber affect the other half? There will be no direct counterspelling, no clear opposition from one side to another, but if spells from both halves of the magical system are cast on a single object, they malfunction, either through collapsing and having no effect, or ending up with a result that is entirely not the desired one for either side.
This does not mean that they cannot be used together at all, but that there are few occasions where that is possible. Because of the mental and stylistic differences between the two halves, very few people have had cause to learn both, and even they rarely try and combine both aspects of magic into one.
People have accepted that magic is a part of their daily lives, although they will always treat mages with a strong degree of wariness and dislike, because of the drain that is placed upon the lifeforce as spells are cast. Part of this is because anyone can utilize magic, and much of what the populace sees daily is farmers, iron apprentices, and others using magic poorly.
Because it is available to anyone, even a moderate degree of skill does not confer any considerable social status or respect from outsiders, any more than being a particularly dangerous warrior might do. However, those with extreme skill and fame are known in the same way that other rulers of legend might be, and are accorded treatment fitting their fame.
Choice #6: Items and Artefacts – Items that store magical energy exist in Ferrous Timber, but only with very low energy levels stored in them. Higher energy levels tend to bleed off into the surrounding environment unless the containment is designed exceedingly well. Most of these items are used as energy storage batteries, places that mages can gather energy and hold it, waiting to use it at a later date, rather than draw on the surrounding environment.
Because of that, the group that has the best quality and highest quantity of these items is the military, because otherwise they could be without magical support on the battlefield. For people working in a day to day environment where magic is needed, such as a farmer or a blacksmith, they have generally located their shops so as not to interfere too greatly with one another, or come up with an arrangement where local mages only use their powers at certain times of day or certain days of the week, insuring that there is enough energy to go around for the creation of magical items.
Tools and other objects that are made with magical energy are very common. Most of the better muskets, cannons, and other heavy machinery has been designed and built by someone with a Ferrous bent, using magic to strengthen and reinforce the metalwork being used, while someone with a more Timber leaning would use it to perhaps shape a tree into a particularly elegant piece of furniture, or craft an exquisite children’s toy out of wood.
As items made with magic are so commonplace, no one finds it out of the ordinary for even a poor person to have acquired one or two pieces, although usually only the quality that would be made by an apprentice, rather than the real goods made by a master of his craft. Most of these items have been blessed with durability, be it a knife that stays sharper longer, or a bowl that doesn’t break when dropped on the ground. Very little in the way of magical energy remains in these items after their creation, for it has been drained and shaped to a given purpose.
Great artefacts are thought to be possible, as people shape their skills into ever more elaborate foundations, but there is little in the way of truly powerful items. There is one exception to this, and that is Ferrous mages have discovered how to animate objects using magnetic fields. Because manipulating these fields is quite difficult, most of the items that utilize them are small, a toy, a clock, a microscope or similar. There are a few who have experimented further, and managed to scale up the magnetic fields to create true automatons, but as of now they are still clumsy and given to breaking under the stress. One day, perhaps soon, they will become much more, but for now they remain little more than curios.
Randomness – Magic in the setting is not random, but can certainly be misapplied. However, when the two sides interact, it is very likely to produce an unexpected outcome. Most people assume this is due to randomness, but these interactions do follow rules. It is simply that no one has ever learned what all of those rules are, and so cannot fathom what happens.
Sourcing – Magic is an external force, an energy that surrounds and comes from all things, but finds itself concentrated in iron, in other metals, and in wood and trees. These can be drawn on with the proper application of skill and ritual, but draw too much and the source in question will crumble, splintering apart and dying.
Range – What magic can be performed in Ferrous Timber tends to have line of sight qualities. If it cannot be seen, it cannot be effected. Certain supremely powerful mages can affect large areas, such as attempting to change the weather over a town, but that requires a stupendous amount of energy, and will usually kill off all the surrounding magical sources before the spell is complete. Most magic is performed on something that is actually being touched, as that gives the mage the most precise means of guiding the energy properly.
That wraps up the Ferrous Timber magic system, and I hope it gave you an insight into designing and building your own. Now, I’m sure some of you scrolled right down to the bottom to see what kind of contest I was talking about, so here goes. This is a two parter being run in conjunction with the brilliant L.M. Stull, and will be judged by myself and by Amy Davis.
Contest Part 1 – Create a magic system, using roughly the format outlined here. 2,000 words is the goal.
Contest Part 2 – Use that magic system to write a 5,000 to 10,000 word short story, and submit both it and the magic system to L.M. Stull. She’ll blind them and pass them on to the judges, and we’ll pick which ones are the winners.
Prizes – And the part I’m sure you’re all wondering about. We’ve got a $50 Amazon gift card for the first place winner, and a $25 card for second place.
The contest will start from today, and run until May 31st, which should give you plenty of time to plan and get your submissions in. That said, I hope you enjoyed this series, and best of luck to you in your writing going forward.
So, I’ve spent the last four posts giving my thoughts on how to design a magic system, but I’m sure many of you are curious as to how all of this would work in practice, so I’m going to spend this post and the next on going through my process step by step. Usually, it isn’t quite as formal as this post will be, but I’m trying to make this as clear as possible.
You may have noticed at the end of the last post that I called the magic system I had in mind Ferrous Timber. The name will become clear as I go through the steps, but it’s an idea that has been bouncing around my head for a little, and I want to see how it looks on paper.
And now, on to the choices.
Choice #1: Strength – For those of you who’ve had a chance to pry back the covers of The Four Part Land or Splintered Lands, you’ll know that my primary choice as an author is fairly low powered magic, with strong effects being available only to a few, or in a limited aspect of the world. I will continue part of that trend here. The power available to Ferrous Timber mages will be limited, and there will be no collaboration between them.
Casters draw their power from the world about them, be it from the woods and the trees, or from the earth, and the iron that resides within the earth. Each area will, depending on its characteristics, only be able to support a given amount of magical draining. Too much, and the area will wither and crumble, dying as the lifeforce is siphoned away. Also, the more talented the user, the more efficiently the energy can be utilized, and the less damage is done to the environment.
This magic will exist in a gunpowder fantasy setting, and so there will be high quality ironmongery and effective gunpowder tools to balance out the magicians.
Choice #2: Prevalence – Moderately common. Magic will not require native talent, and so any inhabitant of the setting may choose to acquire some learning in the art, provided that he has the coin to pay for education. However, as each area only has a finite supply of energy, there are strong diminishing returns for having more than a few mages in a given area, and so even towns or armies often have but a small cadre, for more than that would be simply wasteful.
Mages are viewed as a undesirable but necessary part of everyday life. Undesirable because their talents require them to drain the land or the plants, necessary in that their talents help to insure the safety of living, and help produce much of the metal work that is rapidly changing urban life.
Choice #3: Style – Casters will find that they oft struggle to pull on the surrounding environment, for many of the users of the magical talents are little more than hedge wizards, taught a few useful spells by an apprentice in need of coin, but not given the proper grounding in how best to prepare mentally for casting a spell.
Proper ritual will be limited for most everyday use of spells, although any spell that will have a large effect will require longer preparations, as much to focus the caster as to ease the summoning of energy.
As the name Ferrous Timber alludes to, there will be two distinct schools of magic. Both will suffer from the same general restrictions, but the Ferrous half will have a very mechanistic, almost robotic sense to it. Actions performed repetitively, by rote, until such time as the final effect is desired. Each individual spell may not complete the task as desired, but that is no matter, for it is by the repeated and guided application of magic that the final objective might be achieved. The application of logic and of physical law will play into the casting of spells, and most users will have a background in ironmongery, architecture, engineering, or a related field.
By contrast, the Timber half of the magical system will be much more free flowing, with spells that often have no immediate impact, but ones that become stronger over time, growing into their full power as they pull on the energy from the world about them. Timber spells are less damaging to the world around them, but that does not mean they cause no harm, only that the harm, like the spells themselves, is spread out across time, rather than occurring at the resolution of the casting. Unlike Ferrous, Timber can usually accomplish the desired goal with a single casting.
Casters can use either side of the magic, but tend to specialize in one.
Choice #4: Powers – What does the magic do in the world of Ferrous Timber? As you might imagine, each of the two sides has a different range of abilities. Ferrous tends to focus around the shaping of metal, the creation of devices through which actions might then be accomplished. A common application is for a Ferrous user to be an armourer or a weaponsmith, using his talents to shape his output in a way that would not be possible without fine control of magic.
The application of magnetic properties is another area where Ferrous users find themselves at home, and through this, animation of metal creations through the application of tiny magnetic forces.
For their part, Timber users find themselves more at home amongst agrarian lifestyles, using their talents to promote the growth of plants, the diminution of wounds and sicknesses, or the subtle direction of aspects of nature. While many have tried, no mage has yet discovered a principle that allows them to control the mind or thoughts of another. Despite their ability to assist growth in nature, animals are often scared of mages, for at a visceral level creatures can sense the drain that is placed on the rest of the world in order to utilize the spells.
I realize that the powers enumerated here are fairly vague, but that’s because I do not want to list specifics. I find that as a writer having some latitude in what characters can do is of benefit to the creation of the story and the resolution of scenes. I cannot lock out all the inspiration that actually writing the tale gives, and so I leave room within magic to manoeuvre.
Next week, I shall finish up Ferrous Timber, and open up a contest. I look forward to seeing you all then.