Random worldbuilding…

In the beginning, when the Potter God first baked the bowl of the Earth and the bowl of the Sky, the world spun in quiet harmony. Then one night Earth dreamt of Fire and her dreams turned the world to ash. On seeing this, the Sky cried Tears that filled the oceans and sent Fire burrowing into the Burning Mountains. And thereafter there was Earth and Sky and Fire and Tears.

Just because, duuuude, a world where rain (and rainwater) was sacred? And it wasn’t any sort of desert planet? And where they avoided fire at all costs? So many nifty things to worldbuild around, and you could have the people in temperate regions believing Fire is bad and those in the colder parts believing Fire is good, but less with the ‘You think Fire is good, you must Die!’ and more of the ‘Ack! Crazy people! Run away and let them be crazy in peace!’ Hehehe

So on one hand you have the people who need rain because of constant forest fires and those that need fire because of the constant freezing rain/snow. … Come to think of it, that’s one messed up planet.

Martha Bechtel

My name is Martha Bechtel and I write fantasy and science fiction stories, paint small model horses silly colors, cast resin and plaster magnets, code random code (and Wordpress plugins)... Come on in and join in the fun!

This Post Has 9 Comments

  1. hotspur18

    But a cool planet *nods*

    damn, now you’ve given me a craving to read the Second Chronicles of Thomas Covenant. Again.

    And they’re in a box in the garage. And it’s dark, and raining.

    Write! Write it! Need fantasy/sci-fi! NOW!


    🙂 xx

    1. Martha Bechtel

      Doh… I can’t spell. 😛

      When the first Northerner came among the People of the Grass they thought he was a yavi, restless spirit of the dead. For he had upon him the skins of the dead, furs and hides bound in bits of dried flesh and bone. The offered him saflifa’s milk and honey, laid before him the burial gifts fit for a Year King, but still he remained. He called to them in a fox’s yips and a brush lion’s yowls, as if they were supposed to understand. Even the Winter King, who spoke the languages of beasts could not pull meaning from his words.

      And yet he followed them as they wandered, setting up caves of wood and straw to huddle in each night. Burying himself in Earth like any of the dead.

      1. Martha Bechtel

        It was a full moon later when he spoke his first word. It so startled Jonsiah, she almost dropped the basket of ferryl roots, for the dead do not speak to the living. Only when the Summer Queen had been brought before him did the yavi cease following her. With calm hands, the Summer Queen pulled from him the last remnants of death, so he stood as People should, unburdened before the Sky. Dusting him with the sacred Earth she bound his spirit to the body, sealing off the shadows of death that might seep through the cracks. She spoke the words to bind him to her household, for if he bode ill better that he follow her into death when the Summer Moon died then stay to trouble the People.

        1. Martha Bechtel

          He learned slowly, as if reborn a child, and they taught him with the same patience. By mid-Winter he was speaking the words of the People with only a slight growl, and he had given up trying to teach them the language of the dead. They showed him how to dig for roots and gather fruits, that he might bring to the family his own share of life. They led him in the Dance of Tears, and taught him the sacred stories, passed from Queen to Queen and King to King. And when the Summer Moon finally faded to a dark shadow, he stood steady beside the family as she walked beneath the curtain of Tears and into the land of the dead. Some thought he would follow her, returning to the cold dark lands he spoke of in fond memory, but he remained behind.

          1. Martha Bechtel

            They chose the new Summer Queen after the dark of mourning had passed, and the household bent to the task of re-dying the woven belts and pouches to match her eyes. For the first seven of her fourteen years he stayed with them, watching, learning, but never quite becoming. They called him Rahha, fox people, for he still yipped and growled when he was mad, and they wondered if all foxes walked the line between death and life as he did. There was no little discussion of this, for if so, foxes could not be trusted. In the end, it was decided that foxes walked the near side of death and were to be feared no more that usual.

            When it was explained to him, it seemed to amuse him, which confused the People, but they wrote it off as the humor of the dead.

      2. hotspur18

        *dribbles happily at it*

        Ok, now that’s got my attention. That, my friend, is a true fantasy novel opening.

        *wipes it carefully clean of dribble and offers it a biscuit*


        🙂 xx

        1. Martha Bechtel

          *grins* Glad you liked it! ^_~ I’ll keep adding bits as I clean tonight, plot ideas gratefully accepted if you feel so inclined… (Choose your own adventure? What choose your own adventure? *whistle innocently*) ^_~

          1. hotspur18

            Well, obviously I want to see how the new Summer Queen bonds with him…and maybe understands the yipping? *G*

            Ooh, and I want him to be a Champion. Yes. Like the Paladin *nods* but obviously without the amulet…

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