A Clutch of Dragons: Crumplepunch is Selling Out!

[Crumplepunch]

Mnemon Aisa WIP, I will be drawing the rest of her.

Several people have asked me privately if I am still accepting submissions, the answer is yes, I'll keep accepting them until they stop coming.

Posts on Behalf of Keien until he gets his account approved.

http://pastebin.com/i9nXrVD3 - A Light Touch
http://pastebin.com/bpC8tz9Q - Asp's Bite
http://pastebin.com/7SN8MjP2 - The Army's Backbone

Looking good, artifact submissions are also helpful.

[Momoyo is Best Girl]

Posts on Behalf of Keien until he gets his account approved.

http://pastebin.com/i9nXrVD3 - A Light Touch
http://pastebin.com/bpC8tz9Q - Asp's Bite
http://pastebin.com/7SN8MjP2 - The Army's Backbone

[Crumplepunch]

That is beautiful! Thank you very much!

How is the project going? Are you still looking for contributions?

I'm still bumbling along through War, the final Ability, at a snail's pace. Still a lot of work to do.

As for the stories, I think there are enough to cover all the slots, but if anyone wants to contribute more the offer still stands (minus art).

[BjornTheFellhanded]

That is beautiful! Thank you very much!

How is the project going? Are you still looking for contributions?

[Crumplepunch]

Bjorn has done a ton of work for these so I worked on his first. Of course I chose the character in full plate, like an idiot.

Neral, the Golem of Dunari:

I will get on the other two extant artworks and hopefully be a bit faster.

Still because I hope to get done some time this year, I am no longer offering artworks for short stories. Other rewards are still on the table though, if anyone else is interested.

I humbly submit this fiction.

In return, I'd like some artifact that helps with tracking down people/Anathema.

It will be done!

Would you accept entries that are double your wordcount, so they fit on two pages?

I'd prefer just one, please.

[Tikor]

I humbly submit this fiction.

In return, I'd like some artifact that helps with tracking down people/Anathema.

Would you accept entries that are double your wordcount, so they fit on two pages?

[Crumplepunch]

You're really on fire here. I have the details for character art for everyone and I'm working on them, but I work slow and I have some deadlines to meet, so it may be a little while.

[BjornTheFellhanded]

Here is a short of a mortal realm soldier being led into battle by an earth aspect general.

It was an odd thought to have at this time, Dersollin decided when he wondered if his son had had dinner yet. He hadn’t seen the boy in months, probably wouldn’t for another few. Actually, he’d probably never see him again, he couldn’t help but admit to himself as he steadied his grip on his shield. They’d said there were buck ogres in the enemy force.
Besides him, Norrin and Harginel likewise shifted their holds on the shields, the latter shivering in the cold rain. Even the shield held above her from behind could only offer so much shelter from the elements. The clouds had darkened back when they’d begun ranking up an hour ago, and by now they stood nearly ankle deep in mud.
“What’s there to parley for?” a voice from somewhere behind Dersollin grumbled over the noise of rain on shields and armor. “Let’s just kill these fairfolk and go home!”
“I thought they were anathema?” another voice spoke up.
Dersollin squinted at the horde waiting between the dark trees across the field. They looked like beastmen, from what he could see in the shadows. His sideways glances were obscured by the shields of their turtle formation, but he really hoped they outnumbered their enemy.
Spears clanking on shields stood taller were the first indication something had changed. The parley had finally ended, their general riding back towards his lines and the frail woman on the shining silver horse hurrying the opposite direction.
When the general stopped his horse just a few yards in front of Dersollin, the soldier heard commotion to his right as the ranks parted to let two adjutants through. One, a young boy, rushed to take his lord’s horse. The other, a lanky man, handed the general his white jade staff.
The ranks closed again as the adjutants left.
Slowly, the general climbed on a rock Dersollin hadn’t noticed before and removed the mask of his white jade boar helmet, revealing a cragged, chiseled brown face.
“Soldiers of the Realm!” he barked, and Dersollin felt the ground shake underneath him as the deep voice echoed from nothing. “We stand against Grasula, the Devourer of Seven Hopes! We will not let her armies pass any further! We will not let them pillage our homes, nor let them feast on our families!”
Dersollin could almost taste the porridge his wife always made for their son. His stomach grumbled. He should have eaten more this morning.
The general stabbed one end of his staff into the ground. “This is where we stop these monsters!”
He yanked the staff back out, a lump of granite now encasing its end. He twirled it in one hand and stabbed the other end down. “No more, no further! By the Dragons, and for the Realm!”
He yanked again on his staff, this time pulling free an end beset in jagged obsidian shards. He turned to face the distant army and raised his staff just in time for a small boulder arcing from the far woods to hit him on the forehead with a loud crack of stone on stone.
All around Dersollin soldiers took a half step back as the general stumbled.
But though he faltered, he did not go down, and soon readjusted his helmet, setting the mask back into place.
“By the Dragons!” he repeated, ”And for the Realm!”
He began to slowly march forwards. Drums started playing. As one, Dersollin and the spear phalanx around him fell into step and followed their exalted leader towards their foes.
Dersollin couldn’t wait to tell his son about this glorious victory over dinner.

[BjornTheFellhanded]

Righto, a revision of the war council blackmail story, and the heptagram lesson story. Hope they're useful and/or fun reads.


The V’neef entourage barely even waited to be admitted, barging into the command tent a mere second after the adjutant announcing them had left again.
Their leader, a lithe woman in green jade plate mail, stepped towards the grumpy old man with sandstone skin bent over the map table, arms spread wide for a hug.
“Lady V’neef Mazhakessa,” the man bowed to her instead before she could embrace him. “It is good to see you again.”
“You always say that, father,” she sighed. “But you never seem to mean it. Do you still hold that grudge, after all this time?”
“My son deserved better than marrying you,” he grunted. “But we have more serious matters to attend to now.” He gestured to the war table where exquisitely carved figurines representing the units of his Realm Legion stood surrounding a small number of round stone tokens piled over a Tengese mountain village.
“Our son, your grandson, is growing up well, I’m told,” she ignored the table. “He exalted very young and will begin attending the House of Bells later this year.”
“Enough!” the man slammed the table, knocking the figurines around. “V’neef promised me troops to bring down this anathema stronghold. How many did you bring?”
She stood straight and gave a mock salute. “Yes, General Cathak Ikishan! I bring five talons of spearmen and one of cavalry.”
His face fell until she continued.
“…each commanded by an exalted officer.”
“V’neef spared six exalts to answer my request?” a smile crept onto his face. It grew when she indicated to herself. “Seven exalts?”
“In a sense, father dear,” she inclined her head and sighed. “The satrap allowed this ‘Sunrider’ to grow too strong to being with, and you and the Wyld Hunt have failed to stop him for too long. I am under orders to take command of your legion and end him and his little cult once and for all.”
“You?” Ikishan’s mouth hung open. “Take my legion?”
“The Empress’ legion,” she corrected him. “I have orders from the Regent himself.”
“Worthless words,” he grumbled. “The Empress is gone, and the Regent is a farce. We all know that.”
An adjutant handed Mazhakessa a scroll and she held it to the General. “Nevertheless he speaks in her name until she returns. And I’m afraid he interpreted your request for aid as an admission of failure. I do not wish to take your command or your honor, father, but orders are orders.”
“If you don’t wish it, don’t do it. We all know that fool on the throne won’t remember what he signed a week from now.” Ikishan made no move to take the scroll.
She kept offering the scroll for a long minute, then withdrew it. “As you wish. I will report that I found you having redeemed your reputation by the time I arrived and chose to leave you in command. Please, have Obsidian Colossus prepared for my use in the upcoming battle.”
The old man straightened up with a snap, eyes wide open.
“My warstrider?” he hissed.
“The Empress’s warstrider,” she corrected him once again. “And yes, I will take it, either with or without your legion.”
He ground his teeth but finally nodded. “Does my son know what his wife does to win the Regent’s favor?”
Mazhakessa smiled and handed the scroll back to her adjutant. “He knows I serve my house. And so does he.”




Iselsi Jaddik rubbed the sleep out of his eyes as he followed his master deeper and deeper into the Heptagram’s dark library. Only the torch the old sorcerer carried shed any light, and even that wasn’t much as he used his fire blessings to keep the flame small and harmless to the towering bookshelves.
“Where are we going, master?” Jaddik yawned and tried to keep up. The usually waddling old man was striding with power and purpose tonight. “Why did you wake me up in the middle of the night?”
“Mysteries do not wait to be discovered in the late morning, young man,” the master grumbled. “Now be quiet, we’re in a library!”
Jaddik frowned, both at the comment and at the wards he spotted on a shelf they passed. Its outline was inverted, protecting not the shelf, but rather protecting from the shelf’s contents. He was about to ask, but the old master shushed him.
At last, hey reached a study podium to which the master then gestured Jaddik with his free hand.
The boy nodded and stepped onto the raised step and ran his hand over the ancient tome.
The symbols of the five elements surrounded a stylized burning sun in the center of the cover, and Jaddik’s finger naturally found his way to the icon of the flame.
“Read,” the old master indicated the ribbon that had been placed inside the tome. “And understand.”
“I see this is the symbol of the sun,” Jaddik replied, but then did open the book to the indicated page. “This is not an anathema text, is it?”
“Read. And understand.”
The boy nodded and began to mumble out loud the Old Realm words written in archaic script. He had to slowly translate each word as he parsed it in his mind, and so almost didn’t notice what he was reading.
“But master!” he gasped as belatedly understood. “Lady Selli taught us that only an oath of sacrifice and service can mark a soul as worthy to learn sorcery! Other ways are forbidden!”
The old master nodded. “She is ever immaculate in her faith. The truth is, it is one path of many, and not even one that suits all our students.”
“Then why the secrecy?” Jaddik frowned. He wanted to regard his master, but his eyes insisted on reading on.
“Secrets are power, young man,” came the reply. “And you must guard the source of your power, lest someone take it from you.”
The boy nodded, but was by now engrossed in the book.
“You will not succeed this night,” the old man chuckled. “Probably not next the night either. But soon you will understand the true power of secrets, like your father did before you, and his mother before then. And then, you will be able to shape their power.”
“You knew my grandmother?” finally Jaddik had torn his eyes from the old passages.
The master nodded. “And I know what happened to her. If you want to avoid her fate, you must keep my secrets, as I will now keep yours.”
Jaddik nodded, though his face betrayed his confusion.
“The Realm is not as united as our history classes would teach you,” the master put a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “And the years ahead will be dangerous. Your father asked that I protect you from what’s coming, and for that, you’ll need to learn. You’ll need the Truth.”
“What’s the truth?”
His master held a finger to his lips and quietly shushed him.

[BjornTheFellhanded]

Hm, yeah some things I didn't get across. The idea was that a Realm legion was asking a house legion for aid (meaning the Regent would have authority, and that the matter wasn't a wyld hunt, but the realm defending its territory). On the eggs, I guess I extrapolated too much from the 'lost egg' phrase, my bad. And if I'm mistaken on breeding pacts between high essence/breeding exalts, fair enough, too. I'll see what I can do to salvage the story.

I'll send you some character details in a message

[Crumplepunch]

Thanks again, Bjorn. The first one is ideal for the MA chapter. The second has a few issues that are at odds with my understanding of the way things work (the regent exerting authority over Great House legions, Dynasts bargaining for children outside marriage, children being referred to as eggs, the Wyld Hunt operating under Legion authority.)

You said character art, could you tell me about your characters?

[BjornTheFellhanded]

The RPG group is arriving soon, but here is what I've got so far. I can make changes as needed.


Somehow Master Dellenik managed to trudge through the muddy road into the village without dirtying his blue robes even in the slightest. Sannir was not as lucky, and already the green of his own robe was stained almost to his knees.
“Why are there no proper roads here?” he mumbled. “How can these people stand this much dirt and mud?”
“Few satrapies enjoy the wealth you are used to on the Isle, boy,” the bald, older man chuckled. “But you should be thankful! With yesterday’s rain, it is unlikely anyone dared to leave this place by wagon. We should find what we’re looking for.”
They reached the large, blocky building in the center of the village, the curious eyes of all present following them. Master Dellenik stopped and regarded the solid log construction ahead with its small windows and reinforced doors.
“This place would appear familiar with the idea of bandits, wouldn’t you say, boy?” the old man chuckled again and Sannir noted the signaling twitch of his Master’s finger.
Taking a deep breath, Sannir took in the smell. Mud was there, of course, as well as damp cloth, mold and various animal odors. There was also sweat, a lot of it, even though no one in sight was exerting themselves, nor was the day hot.
“We are not welcome here, Master,” Sannir whispered under his breath in Old Realm. “They are afraid.” He had not yet mastered the art of whispering silently into the wind, but the old man’s ears were sharper than any daiklave.
“Indeed not,” Master Dellenik’s voice echoed in his ear alone. “Strangers rarely are this far from Grey Falls. So let us introduce ourselves.”
He took the few steps up to the strong house’s door and turned around with a flourish of his robes that no natural wind had any part of.
“In the name of the Immaculate Order, hear me!” he addressed the villagers. “We come seeking a criminal that absconded with a tax payment destined for Grey Falls. The stolen wagon’s trails lead through this village. If any of you have-“
“Grey Falls won’t miss one wagon’s taxes!” A tall, broad shouldered man had approached them, hefting his black smith’s hammer.
“Any crime will be punished!” Sannir stepped in front of the man to shield his master. “It is not for you to decide otherwise.” More villagers stepped forward to join the first.
“What my young friend meant was that crime is a danger to us all,” Master Dellenik smiled. “Let us help you, and you will be free of these outlaws’ demands.”
“What demands?” a young woman blurted. “He’s done nothing but protect and feed us!”
It was what they needed. Sannir flourished his own cloak and twirled his staff, dropping into the Wood Dragon stance. The villagers backed away a half step, but then, remembering their numbers, pushed towards Sannir again, ready to strike.
Master Dellenik meanwhile whispered into his cupped hands, and only moments later the return message arrived:
A volley of fifty arrows came from the north where their soldiers had waited, raining down on Sannir and the villagers surrounding him. The young monk spun his staff above his head, batting aside those missiles coming for him, and moments later he stood alone amidst a field of blood and moans.
“Do you think that was all of them, Master?” he asked and looked around. “More might be hiding in the homes.”
“They don’t matter,” his master sighed and stepped towards him, “not anymore. We have found our quarry.”
He pointed at an ox regarding them from an open paddock across the village square. Slowly, it began plodding towards them.
“You shouldn’t have messed with my pack,” the animal grumbled and gradually shifted into a larger, ursine shape. “Now I will tear you limb from limb!”
“You led them astray, to crime and heresy,” Master Dellenik shot back and raised his arms, palms out in the Air Dragon form. “It is you who sealed their fate.”
With a roar the wagon sized bear charged, a full moon mark glowing on its forehead.



The V’neef entourage barely even waited to be admitted, barging into the command tent a mere second after the adjutant announcing them had left again.
Their leader, a lithe woman in green jade plate mail, stepped towards the grumpy old man with sandstone skin bent over the map table, arms spread wide for a hug.
“Lady V’neef Mazhakessa,” the man bowed to her instead before she could embrace him. “It is good to see you again.”
“You always say that, Cathak Ikishan,” she sighed. “But you never seem to mean it. Was I that unpleasant?”
“You were adequate,” he grunted. “But that business is behind us, you got your egg. We have more serious matters to attend to, now.” He gestured to the war table where exquisitely carved figurines of realm soldiers stood surrounding a small number of round stone tokens piled over a Tengese mountain village.
“Our son is growing up well, I’m told,” she ignored the table. “He exalted very young and will begin attending the House of Bells later this year.”
“Enough!” the man slammed the table, knocking the figurines around. “V’neef promised me troops to bring down this anathema. How many did you bring?”
She stood straight and gave a mock salute. “Yes, General Cathak Ikishan! I bring five talons of spearmen and one of cavalry.”
“Excellent, have your men report to-“
“No, lover dear,” she shook her head and smiled. “House Cathak allowed this ‘Sunrider’ to grow this strong to being with. I am under orders to take command of your legion and capture him.”
“You?” Ikishan’s mouth hung open. “My legion?”
Her fingers reached out and caressed his cheek. “You’ve lost how many men to this guerrilla force already? When was the last time you managed to collect this satrapy’s due tithes? And now you need help from another house? Such lack of results does not become an exalt of your breeding.”
A smile had crept into his face at her touch and the accompanying rose scent, but he still found the strength to slap her hand away. “You will not-“
“I will,” she cut him off and held out a hand to one of her entourage. “I bring orders from the Regent himself on this matter.” She passed the scroll to him.
Instead of taking it, he grabbed her wrist and squeezed, sand dust crumbling off his knuckles. “The Regent is a farce, we all know that. I will not hand my legion over to the house that lost the North to the Iron Bull!”
“The North isn’t lost y- ouch!” she stopped protesting when her wrist cracked under the pressure of his grip. Two of her entourage immediately drew blades.
“If you want to keep your hand,” Ikishan grumbled with a gravelly voice but let off her wrist a little, “and if you want me to continue to keep the reports I’ve collected of your personal misadventures on the ice under wraps, you will accept my leadership and burn that Regent’s rag.”
“Alright, alright!” she squealed and tried to pull her hand free. “You are in command. But in exchange, house V’neef wants another egg.”
He glared at her. Then he smiled. Finally, he rocked his head back and laughed. “That’s what this was really about, wasn’t it?” He let go of her hand.
“Yes, but I also wanted to see what you had to use against me,” she half smiled and half grimaced, massaging her wrist. “And if you want, I won’t even tell your wife about tonight.”

[TDS]

TDS and BjornTheFellhanded, name your price!

I think I'll go with character art for Sivan. I think it's best if we discuss the details in skype, so just hit me up when you're ready to begin and I'll provide all the details and so on you need.

[BjornTheFellhanded]

Some character art would be nice Or maybe some sort of cover art for my fanfic, Against all Winds and Tides?
I'm happy to give more details, but don't let it get in the way of your project! I'm happy to wait or even help without reward.

And speaking of help, I'll try to come up with more shorts over the weekend. I have vague ideas for a war council scene where several houses need to combine arms against an anathema, a sorcery lecture, and an immaculate monk following the trail of a suspected anathema bandit. Not sure which will shake out yet, we'll see soon.

[Crumplepunch]

I'd like art! Character is Mnemon Aisa, air aspect extraordinaire.

I think I can swing that. I work slow but it'll happen.

A pact is made!

http://pastebin.com/s703s8Un

A short story about a young Dynast seeing the treasures of his House and swearing revenge, perhaps suitable for the Character Creation chapter.

This is good, it seems like a good fit for the Character Creation chapter.

Here is an excerpt from a longer story about two archers discussing the philosophy of archery, I don't know if it fits in anywhere. In the story it's a wood aspect and a solar, but it would only take minor edits to change the solar.

I had a half hour to spare, so I came up with this (suitable for a crafting or panoply chapter:

The first is a nice piece of writing but it doesn't really feel like it interacts with any salient Dragon-Blooded themes or situations. The second is definitely suitable for a Panoply chapter if there ends up being one.

Speaking of which I will also take submissions of artifacts for a Panoply chapter.

TDS and BjornTheFellhanded, name your price!