Writing Something Every Day*, Xantalos Edition

Snippet 8 - Hatte Frogs - Jan. 3, 2020
On the Hatte Frog

Hatte Frogs are a delightful species of amphibian originating from within the Trafalgar Swamps, first sighted 741 years after the breaking of the Great Dam. They are considered a luxury pet among many of the indigenous villages in the Swamps, often held by the natives to be good luck charms of a sort. Here in the Vaudevillian Empire, of course, we do not hold to such superstitions, but the peculiar antics of the creatures do offer some amusement to the onlooker, and their eggs are a delicacy when prepared with mercurium and bone cream.

Anatomy

Hatte Frogs are lumpy, greenish-brown creatures of about knee height with warty skin, bulging eyes, and long, gangly limbs that are startlingly out of proportion with the rest of them, often twice the length of the rest of the body in mature specimens. Their skeletal structure is somewhat unique among the denizens of the Trafalgar Swamps, with the only actual bones in their body being located within their hind legs. Everything else is made up of a pliable, gelatin-like substance that wiggles and bounces to the touch. Their feet are quite widely-spread, and male specimens have a set of retractable claws in their toe pads.

Behavioral Patterns

Hatte Frogs behave as most omnivorous swamp-dwellers do - they spend most of their time searching for food, leaping after insects and birds to fill their voracious appetites. In this regard they are not much different than the common frog. However, during the months of their mating season, the Hatte Frog displays their iconic behavior. Males will seek out large members of other species, seemingly without regard for whether they approach predator or prey, and leap upon the head of their target. Once they succeed in this, they will grip firmly to the head they land upon with their claws and begin making as much of a ruckus as they can, wailing and ribbiting to the maximum capacity of its lungs. This will continue until a female has been attracted by the commotion or the target manages to shake its Hatte Frog off. If a female is nearby and called over, she will assess the male by the height of the being he managed to scale. If it is high enough, she will consent to mate. This behavior has seen Hatte Frogs attempting to leap onto everything from buildings to giants to aircraft passing overhead, and it is a common hazing ritual for members of prestigious Vaudevillian universities to have a Hatte Frog snuck onto their head without their knowledge.

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AN: Another 'too tired to really think of anything coherent so here's a random unrelated snippet' kinda day today.
 
Snippet 9 (Sort Of) - Demigod Game Opener - Jan. 8, 2020
I was looking through some older notes of mine and found an old game idea I'd had way back in 2015 or so, centered around playing as one of the protagonists from the game Demigod. I'm not actually gonna run it anytime soon, what with being fully devoted to my lizardmen and skaven quests, but I still like the general idea so I'll be filling in the various options there over the next little while, I think. I did the Torchbearer section today.

--

Near the end of the 87th migration, when the minions of Hel-Gorgath were in rebellion and the balance between light and dark was under threat, the Ancients of the Deep convened a Gathering. Assembled thusly since last they imposed silence upon the worlds were the Six, oldest and most terrible. The Gathering found that one of their own, the so-called Progenitor, had intervened by sharing Names and Ways with his underlings and allies on the other side of the Veil.

In punishment, the Ancients cast down The Progenitor from the Deep Places and all of the beings in his ken were laid low and utterly destroyed.

The Ancients, known as Gods to mortals, therefore sought a successor. It was known that the Progenitor had many offspring, begat by mortal consorts, who retained sufficient divinity to stand for Induction. But, not all agreed, for some were offended by the obscene co-mingling of Essences, crude flesh, and the rank perversity of the Progenitor's dalliances. For this reason, a game was proposed for the offspring to prove themselves worthy.

So it was made to be that messengers were sent to the Dark and Light Places to summon the pretenders to Rokkur, place of blood rites. There, they would throw down their brothers and sisters in fratricidal combat to win the favor of the Ancients and ascend to their ranks. The victor would become a God.


--------------------​

Thus is your destiny - you are a child of the All-Father, offspring of one of the Progenitor's numerous affairs with mortals. A demigod, greater and more awful in every way than your peers. One day you will be summoned to the Crucible of the Gods, and be made to murder your blood kin for the chance to descend to the Gathering of the Ancients. If you survive you will become a god and know the Deep Places as your own, and forever change the balance between Light and Dark, for better or worse.

But that is the end of your story. We start at the beginning.

Who are you?


[] The Torchbearer

On the coldest night in living memory, you were born to the queen of the Vinling people, Frythia Fair-Frost. Hearing of your birth, the king Hungarling, who had been pushing back the savages of the northern frontier for the past seven years, returned to his home and drowned your mother in her bath. He took his sword to your nursemaids, but could not bring himself to slay you, and instead claimed you as his own, naming you Hrundel for the fey-like beauty in your face.

A traumatic start to your life, admittedly, but it ended well. You will be prince of the Vinlings, raised to high expectations with all the resources of nobility. As you age, you will be taught to lead armies, to manage realms, to wield sword and coin both in defense of your realm. And you will excel in this, for you are a demigod, son of the Allfather. Frost and flame will bend to your will, and men's hearts will melt at the warmth in your words.

The Torchbearer is supernaturally charismatic, and will grow to be able to control fire and ice as he wills. He will come of age in Vinland, a kingdom of honor and martial prowess, but also quick wits and the intermingling of many cultures due to their extensive trade routes. Beware, for not all who speak of honor talk with unvarnished tongues...

- The Rook
-expound on starting situation, powers, inclinations, etc-
- The Oak
-expound on starting situation, powers, inclinations, etc-
- The Queen of Thorns
-expound on starting situation, powers, inclinations, etc-
- The Unclean Beast
-expound on starting situation, powers, inclinations, etc-
- The Vampire - erebus
-expound on starting situation, powers, inclinations, etc-
- The Blind King - orcus
-expound on starting situation, powers, inclinations, etc-
- The Demon Assassin
-expound on starting situation, powers, inclinations, etc-
- The Crippled Angel - regulus
-expound on starting situation, powers, inclinations, etc-
- The Lifegiver - sedna
-expound on starting situation, powers, inclinations, etc-
- Something Else?
-leads to custom character creation thing-
 
Snippet 10 - Unclean Beast Demigod - Jan. 9, 2020
RIght, so I wrote this post today, but I'm not entirely sure if it counts as a thing since it's not so much a creative endeavour as an analysis of something I've already written. So I did up one more option for that Demigod game idea:

[] The Unclean Beast

Long ago, a grimoire was written by a very powerful and very foolish man. It contains a compendium of all the black and evil magic that man ever learned - hexes and curses, twisting spells that inflict agony and misery and ruin. Spells of binding, enslavement, summoning.

Names and Ways to call you through the Veil.

You are a spirit of pestilence and disease, acid and death, rot and agony. Not one of your divine father's proudest moments, to have joined in union with Mother, the Empress of Contagion, but the deed was done and your essence cast out into the void, to seek sustenance in the consumption of mortal flesh. You have manipulated events in the mortal realm for well over a century, whispering oh so carefully in the right ears, passing the right secrets on until at last some sweet, trusting fool opens the Veil and calls you through.

That time is now.

The Unclean Beast is a horror, a malavolent spirit from beyond the Veil that has cloaked itself in mortal flesh. Its primary goal is to kill, eat, defile, and destroy everything it comes across, not necessarily in that order. It weeps acid from every pore, spreads disease with every movement, and its vessel of flesh has enough raw strength to rip a man in two. The only question is where it was called into the world, where its destructive rampage shall begin...
 
Snippet 11 - Vampire Demigod - Jan. 10, 2020
Another demigod writeup thing today since I accidentally slept for 6 hours after coming back from work.

----

[] The King of Dusk

There are some who say it is man's inherent moral nature that drives him to succeed. Others say it is their ingenuity, determination, or even divine favor. They are all wrong - it is hunger that motivates men to better themselves, to grasp for more.

You have always been hungry. From the moment of your birth it was as though an endless pit had been placed within you, a gaping vortex that could never be sated. When your mother offered you her jugular to feed on in the manner of her people, you drained her dry in under a minute, making an orphan of yourself immediately after entering the world. This act garnered much fear from your people, who have quarantined you in a seperate cave and feed you whole cows to sate your appetite.

For you were born to the Night Walkers, who drink of the blood of men and may move only in the dark. You are different from your brethren in ways other than your unending hunger - you can walk in the cursed daylight, turn your flesh to mist, and instinctively command all the creatures of the night. And during the few periods of lucidity you can grasp, you have a voracious intellect, devouring words as eagerly as you drink blood.

If only your hunger would ever abate...

The King of Dusk, named Erebus by his fearful people, is an immensely powerful vampire, whose divine nature allows him to bypass many of the innate weaknesses of his people - he can walk in daylight, trespass on sacred ground, and appears close enough to human that he may pass basic scrutiny. He will develop many other powers as he ages - the ability to control the thoughts of others, to dissolve into mist or bats at a whim, and to command any nocturnal creature with instinctive ease. The price he pays for these gifts is an insatiable hunger for blood, which renders him incapable of thought or speech at its worst, reducing him to a ravenous beast that will drain anything with blood that comes near him.
 
SHAME #3
Jan. 11, 2020 - Didn't write anything! I had ample time, just didn't use it for ... anything really, I can't even remember what I did yesterday bar eating at a far too late timeframe, which usually means that I just aimlessly flitted back and forth between the same three web pages for 6+ hours in an attempt to distract myself from an impending episode of feeling purposeless. Exactly the sort of habit I've been trying to break! I'll write something today.
 
Snippet 12 - Yet Another Demigod/Vampire Sitcom Ramble - Jan. 13, 2020
Made some rudimentary notes on what's gonna happen in Respect Your Elders' turn 9, and did a tiny bit of outlining on an idea I had for a sitcom where it's a bunch of dysfunctional vampires in a blood-themed rehab facility. There'd be the 'straight man' character who got turned by accident but didn't realize it until they were trying to guzzle their elderly landlord's dog's blood, a mooch college student vampire who stole a bunch of blood from their roommates because they were cold (even though vampires don't get cold), the sketchy vampire who's robbed multiple blood banks (gimme the o negative and no one gets hurt!) but got off on an insanity plea, the paranoid old vampire who's absolutely convinced that humans are out to get them and forms wacky conspiracy theories all the time, and whatever other character archetypes I can come up with for an ensemble cast. The general trend of the series would be kinda like those fish-abstaining sharks from Finding Nemo, where they're made by the rehab facilitator (who I may also make a vampire, albiet a really smug, hypocritical one reminiscent of Dilbert's pointy-haired boss) to engage in activities meant to help them cope in a world full of walking bloodbags. Only this place isn't run very competently, so various shenanigans inevitably ensue. Probably should be lighthearted in tone, at its absolute darkest making allegorical comparisons between vampires and substance addicts rather than parasites or disease as usually happens. Just a general idea for the moment, but I'll build on it for the future. Maybe call it... Shady Acres? Dunno.

Oh also here's another of the demigod game options, this time featuring the game's Inuit-inspired snow shaman healer queen lady.

---

- The Lifegiver

The world is a harsh place, filled with hunger and pain and misery. The elements beat on its people, and its people turn upon each other in hope of surviving just a little while longer. Death of the body is an everpresent danger, but more hazardous still is the death of the spirit, where the inner light inside a person goes out and they become cruel and twisted.

Death is all around, but life continues to bloom, and it rejoices as you are born. You come into the world during the worst winter your tribe has seen in living memory, and though there is no food to spare, the Elders are persuaded to spare you when they see the vitality shining from your eyes. They can see that you are a child blessed by the spirits, and that to leave you to die in the snow would be to refuse a great gift from their ancestors.

It is well for them that they decided as they did, for you are perhaps Life's greatest champion in all the worlds, and the sea of breath within your soul is enough to defy death itself. You will become a powerful angakkuq in time, but beware, for men's hearts hate and fear that which they cannot possess.

The Lifegiver, named Sedna for the old woman in the sea, is invested with powerful life magic that will enable her to communicate with the natural world, fortify her flesh against harm, and even reverse death itself. She is born into one of the many tribes in the frigid south of the world, who eke out a living on the ice floes of their home. It is a harsh life, but it promises much exploration, frequent trading arrangements with more northern explorers, and the opportunity to bond with the beasts of the tundra.
 
SHAME #4 - Jan. 14/Snippet 13 - Yet More Demigoddery - Jan. 15, 2020
Didn't do anything yesterday. I expect I won't do very well with keeping consistency in the next few months; I've always followed a pattern of 'write a lot for about 1-2 months, don't write shit for 4-6', and habits are hard to change. But Imma keep trying. Fail your way to success and whatnot. Especially since I now have to write a legit book due to telling someone I involuntarily admire that I'm in the process of doing that - for reasons I can no longer recall or comprehend - and being more willing to put myself through excessive stress rather than admit I was lying. Anyway, here's another demigod thing.

---

[] The Blind Prince

For ages, your people have been a scourge upon the world. From the mountain kingdom of Armias, the minotaurs have amassed vast armies and struck out at the world again and again, king after king throwing his people's lives away, for gold, for glory, for honor.

A disgusting notion to one such as you, though it has kept you alive. You are Oculus, prince of Armias, and you were born crippled - a blind albino, never expected to survive his first month, it was a bitter disappointment to your kingly father when you refused to die.

His honor would not let him disavow you as his son, but neither would it let him raise you for war as his father had him when you were such an obviously poor fit. Instead you were relegated to live in the kingdom your father ostensibly runs, as he continues to wage war and attempts to sire another heir, though his loins prove barren.

As you grew, you proved to be smart as a whip, and though you had no working eyes, you could soon see plainly that the king was leading Armias to ruin, amassing enemies by the fistful and ransacking his own kingdom in search of coin to wage his endless wars. If this trend continued, your home would soon be broken by foreign empires who had learned to hate the minotaur through centuries of battle, and your people would suffer for an age, all for the sake of a stubborn old man's honor.

This cannot stand. One way or another, you must depose your father, and claim the title of King of the Minotaurs. Only then will you be able to steer your kingdom away from its impending downfall.

The Blind Prince is a freak amongst his people, the warlike minotaurs - physically frail, blind, and incapable of speaking above a whisper due to an accident of birth, he would be shunned if not for being the king's only son. Oculus is extraordinarily intelligent, and gifted with a vast capacity for magic, which he will be able to develop along one of multiple powerful paths. He resides in the mountain kingdom of Armias, a land that is heading for doom, as long war attracts enemies and weakens the kingdom. One way or another, you must assume the mantle of king and restore your land to true glory.

Oculus as he appears in the game specializes in lightning magic, but I figure I could do better as making him more of a dnd wizard-style caster as opposed to the Torchbearer's sorcerer sort of style.
 
SHAME #5 - C-C-C-C-COMBO
Yeah I'm alright. Got rather severely thrown off my rhythm by a combination of staying up far too late at a friend's house throwing off my sleep pattern, a mild head cold, and getting short-notice calls into work 4 days in a row kinda preventing me from mustering the energy to do much of anything. I haven't written anything in 4 days, from the monday all the way till yesterday. Needless to say, I am affronted at life, the universe, and everything for daring to impose these circumstances on me, but before I go dig up my old plans to end all of existence I'm going to try to write some stuff today.
 
SHAME #6 but also progress
Feb. 5, 2020 - didn't write anything! Probably could've, I had a bit of time at the end of the day, I just didn't.

Feb. 6, 2020 - wrote 179 words for Respect Your Elders turn 9. Got a bit thrown off this week since I couldn't do my regular martial arts thing on Monday and not having that heavy workout killed my attention span - I swear I'm like a puppy sometimes, I need to exercise or I can't think right - but I'm making progress anyhow. Around 5,300 words in at the moment and I've got what looks to be 3 big sections remaining - all the anti-ork stuff, Plan analysis, and the Crystal Cavern stuff. So probably north of 10k for a wordcount total.
 
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