REINCARNATED AS A NATIVE

[fairyfoes]

YOU WERE BORN A NATIVE

You were born in the wilds, or the unmapped hamlets; or perhaps one of the grand cities of ALLAIDH DARACH. But you were never the master of your own destiny; and your world has been marred by war almost since its first turns. OPTIONAL SCENARIOS 01. DAILY LIFE. Did you pledge yourself to a court? Are you a guard or a soldier? Or perhaps your a simple tradesman hoping the breadth of the war never touches you and yours. You were an adult young, remember, by 13 or 14: do you have a family? Are you afraid of the Void, or relieved by it? What is your life like, or your relation to the courts? 02. BATTLE. Perhaps some court armies are ransacking your home, and all you can do is flee the blades and the fires. Or perhaps you've been conscripted and been given rough armour and arms, and told to charge the strangers on the opposite side. What god to you pray to, hoping for protection against fearsome shardbearer magic and might? Do you survive? 03. THE FEASTS. Perhaps you've been travelling and been offered sanctuary at the castles; or are there on some important business. Whatever the reason, you're at one of the castles for one of the legendary feasts of welcome for far-worlder shardbearers, and get to eat and drink your fill as they take it all in. 03. WILDCARD. Your own scenario!

Comments

[independant]

What is it that you write?

[ Peering out from underneath the table a bit more with a hand held up. Pay up, old fart. ]

Judging by what I see, I'm going to say erotica?

[gordianknots]

Travel diaries and guides, actually.

[Waver snickers at that hand, putting the tart on a plate first before handing it down to Rin.]

[independant]

[ Yoink. She'll remain under the table for now. It's cozy. ] Travel diaries? Isn't that a bit cheap?

If people want to know the world, they should explore it for themselves.

And this tart tastes awful.

[gordianknots]

A lot of folks can't afford to, even if they want to. So I do my best to take them with me in my writing, and it's worked so far.

I can't help you with the tart though.

[independant]

It seems manipulative in a sense, but I suppose it can't be helped. If your writing was crap, then they wouldn't pay for it.

[ Holding out the plate. ] Try something else before I spit this up all over your shoes.

[gordianknots]

How is writing about what I see and smell and experience manipulative, exactly??

[he frowns down at the plate.]

Chocolate rosemary cake ok?

[independant]

Chocolate is always ok. [ And it just is, Mister Writer. ]

[gordianknots]

[A little cupcake comes down next.]

There.

[independant]

[ She shall enjoy this cupcake to the fullest. ] So what's your name, mister writer pants?

[ Nom nom. ] Don't tell me you have a pen name.

[gordianknots]

I don't. [Ah, that's a satisfied munch.] I'm Waver Velvet.

[independant]

What kind of writer are you if you half ass everything? [ Poking her head back out to glare up at him. ]

Isn't a pen name a necessity?

[ She was going to make fun of him, but now she can't. ]

[gordianknots]

Not at all. And I am not half assing a thing!

[independant]

You certainly are. [ At least she's out from underneath the table fully. ]

Why no pen name?

[gordianknots]

Because I'm proud of what I write, and I want to stand by it.