Amphibanauts

In Aethtea, there is a race of creatures known as the Amphibanauts. These humanoid frogmen hail from the swamp and marshland areas of the Wester Lands, particularly Dunneland, Stormfjord, Revenwold and Eskmere. They are an ancient race, one of the oldest still living, and because of this are keen believers in the importance of tradition, ritual and family bonds. They do not follow The One, The Five and The Many, the primary religion of the Wester Lands, but their own religion based around ancient ancestral beings.

Amphibanauts are taller than humans, usually at least half the height again. They have varying skin colours, much the same as humans, from dark greens in forest areas to beiges and browns closer to the mountains. Most Amphibanauts avoid human civilisation, preferring to live in closely knit tribes in the wilderness. However, there are a few that live in towns and cities. This can lead to tension between the Amphibanauts and the humans who live in these towns. There have even been some recorded cases of violence against them, including one family of Amphibanauts in Musgrave, a town in Revenwold, that had their entire house burnt around them. There were no survivors.

In 'The Shadows Dance', Throttle is an Amphibanaut that has been a part of The Beggar's Guild for many years, acting as its muscle. He is a close friend of Silas, the current Guild Father, but few know where he came from before arriving in Forktown.

Fantasy Movies

Screenshot from 'Castle in the Sky' (1986) Dir. Hayao Miyazaki

One thing that I love even more than I love writing is watching movies. I love it. Can't get enough of it. But I was thinking recently that compared to the plethora of fantasy novels, there are no where near as many great fantasy movies (or TV, yes, we love Game of Thrones). There are a few, but only half are any good. It got me wondering, why is this?
I came up with a few reasons.

1. Visual effects don't match our imaginations.
Our imaginations are the greatest blessings when it comes to reading fantasy. An author can write a few great lines and instantly entire worlds populate our minds. But having someone make it in a computer is not always the same. Even Lord of the Rings, which are films I love, do not match up to the descriptions that Tolkien wrote.

2. Source material is 'unfilmable'.
A big excuse as to why books cannot be turned into movies is that they are said to be unfilmable. I'm not saying that every book should be turned into a film, I just think that it is not the case with every fantasy novel that is described that way. Think of A Song of Ice and Fire, which was described as unfilmable. And now we have one of the biggest television shows of all time that are bringing new people to the genre in their masses. Why not take a chance and have a go at a Wheel of Time television show? Or maybe

3. Misunderstanding or abuse of the source material.
Now this one is particularly personal. I love Northern Lights and The Subtle Knife by Philip Pullman (The Amber Spyglass was very disappointing). As a kid, I lapped these two up. I laughed, I cried, I was genuinely moved. So when I heard they were making a film, I was buzzing. And then The Golden Compass happened.
In the book, information about the daemons is revealed to us slowly and mysteriously, hooking our interest and engaging us. In the film, we get narration in the opening minutes explaining everything. Surely we can get this through visuals and dialogue later in the film? It takes away the sense of wonder. The Magisterium, who are again mysterious in the books, are set up to be front and centre villains for the film. Finally, we have the ending. Or should I say, not ending. SPOILERS FOR THOSE WHO HAVEN'T READ NORTHERN LIGHTS. At the end of the book, it ends on a beautifully sad note. Lord Asriel, Lyra's father, who she has spent most of the book trying to save, kills her friend Roger by severing him from his daemon. It's shocking, it's powerful and it's a great piece of storytelling. In the film, they didn't even have the balls to show it.

I don't see why fantasy hasn't caught the imagination of filmmakers more. The chance to show people something amazing, like they've never seen before. It doesn't always work, but when it does, it's magical.

At the end of the day, we always have our books. And who needs them to be made into films. Maybe we should push for original fantasy stories to be made for film, without needing to be books first.

On a more positive note, here are some fantasy movies I love:
The Princess Bride (1987) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6JGp7Meg42U
Willow (1988), I know it's cheesy, but I love it. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D-P03NGSP6Y
Lord of the Rings trilogy, but specifically The Two Towers (2002)
and most of the films by Hayao Miyazaki. My particular favourites are Castle in the Sky (1986) or Howl's Moving Castle (2004). I guess I just love castles.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=229K5n_PRJA - theme from Castle in the Sky. A truly beautiful piece of music.

What are fantasy movies that you love? They don't have to be based on books, just great fantasy. Are they genuinely good? Or are they just guilty pleasures? Then again, is there such a thing as a guilty pleasure? If the film does a job of entertain, then surely it's done it's job.

I think I may go and watch The Princess Bride now.

Facebook Page

I've been a busy boy today and not only written a short story, but also made a Facebook Page for me as a writer. Feel free to like it if you want, and keep up to date with everything I'm doing:

https://www.facebook.com/PatchMiddletonWriter

SHORT STORY: Chasing Silver

This is just a fun little short story I wrote for a competition on r/fantasywriters (entries to be submitted 27th September). The prompt was 'unicorns', and I was inspired to make this.

It is set in Aethtea, but in the 11th Age, post-Cataclysm, in the time when airships had been invented and humans had colonised the Sky Continents.

Chasing Silver

by Patch Middleton

“Anything?”

“Nothin so far, ma’am.”

“Keep your eyes peeled, soldier, we ain’t going back empty handed this time.”

Captain Rallow gave one last look to the trembling boy. That was what he was, a boy, no older than nineteen. She saw how his knuckles glowed a hot white as his hands gripped the harpoon cannon. Sweat poured down his brow, despite the chill of the night.

Useless. How was she supposed to bring back any horn if this was all the Crown provided for her. Weak, trembling boys who would be better suited back at home suckling on their mother’s tit. None of these were real harpooneers, not like she had been back in the day. She should have hired herself. There were some capable looking lads back at the job fair in Sykesend.
Rallow grunted and paced down the deck, hand resting lazily on the hilt of her rapier. Towering grey clouds hung in the sky around them. From this height, they looked more like silver mountains in the moonlight.

“Anything?” she said, stopping by the next cannon.

“I thought I saw one, but it was just a seagull, ma’am.”

This one was slightly older than the last, but still at least half Rallow’s age.

“A seagull? Explain to me how you could mistake a seagull for a flying, horned horse.”

“I don’t know, ma’am.”

“Oh. You don’t know. And why did you feel the need to tell me this? To make up for the fact that you useless fucking sods have yet to bring one down for me?”

The man glanced away, unable to keep Rallow’s gaze.

“I’m sorry, ma’am.”

“Focus on the task, you can apologise to me later.”

It had been days since the last sighting, and even then it was at a distance. They had followed the herd all they from the Twisting Mountains, after receiving a tip off in the port of Sykesend. The crew of the Pegasus II had hunted and hunted them across the skies. Rallow had been at the wheel, arcing through the blue, narrowly dodging the odd island. It had been a thrilling chase, but they had lost them when a storm set in. Rallow had slept little that night.

But he had not given up yet. These were quick. A good batch. Young. Fresh. The Crown would be pleased with these horns.

“There’s a whole barrel of saltrum for the first man who can spot me a unicorn,” she bellowed to her men.

And with that, she returned to her chamber. The door slammed shut behind her, rattling the empty shelves around her. At the other side of the room, the velvet curtains on the bay window remained undrawn. She often liked to look outside, just like she had when she was a girl travelling with her father. But now, at this time of night, you could see very little.

On her desk sat the letter. The one she had dreaded to receive ever since she had taken over as captain on the Pegasus II. The royal seal still looked fresh. Each time she looked at the neat black letters, her heart flooded with dread, threatening to stop beating all together.

“You have by Winter’s Fall,” were the final few words.

Winter’s Fall. That was only a month away. And so far, they had nothing. Not one horn. Not even a single shred of silver hair. How was she supposed to do it with a crew the likes of which she had been given. Most had not even been out in the sky before. They were useless, green, sons of bitches and they were bound to let her down.

She collapsed on her chair and buried her head in her hands. If only her father had not taken her that day… Then maybe… It did not matter now anyway. Nothing did. Except catching a unicorn.

She moved to the corner of the room and poured herself a cup of honey tea. The kettle was still warm from dinner. She took it and walked over to the window. She ran her finger along the frosted glass, tracing the outline of a particularly large cloud.

Ever since she was a child, she had dreamed of the day she would finally see one. Only her father had believed she would. Everyone else thought the idea ridiculous.

“Your chasing silver shadows,” they used to say, “Nothing more than stories. Finding one is impossible, let alone killing one.”

She was laughed out of every tavern in the capital. But when she had brought back the first body and lain it at the foot of the throne, no one was laughing then. The huge creature, twice the size of a regular horse, lit up the entire room with its presence. Though it was more than just a horse. Even ignoring the horn that jutted out from its head and the white wings that lay limp by its side, at one look, you could tell it was more. It reeked of power. Getting close to one and you could feel the waves of Magick ebbing from its flesh.

That one day, everything had changed. Looking back, Rallow did not know if it was for better or for worse.

“More,” the Crown had commanded, “Bring me more.”

And so that was what her life became. Professional unicorn hunter for hire.

“I see one!” a cry from above her.

Blood pumped fast in Rallow’s veins. Could it be? She dropped the tea cup, letting it smash on the floor, the tiny shards flying in all directions. As she rushed to the door, she was met by Keb, her first mate. He was red of the face and panting heavily.

“Come quickly, ma’am. He’s right. We’ve found one,” he said through shattered breaths.

Rallow could feel the excitement bubbling within her, but something about the man’s face told her that all was not well.

“What is it Keb? What troubles you? Is this not the moment we’ve been waiting for?”

Keb nodded, but his eyes were wide with fear.

“It’s attacking.”

Rallow rushed passed him, barely allowing the words to sink in, and made her way up onto the bow. She stood, scanning the skies for any sign of movement. Sure enough, there it was, bursting through the clouds. It soared close above her, so close Rallow was knocked off her feet by its wake. It was beautiful.

She rolled over onto her front to see the young harpooner fire his cannon. The harpoon coursed through the darkness, missing the beast by inches. The creature took less than a second to turn in the air and charge back at them. Its head was down. Its eyes were aflame. The boy let go of his cannon and turned to run, but it was too late. The horn pierced his chest like a fork through steak. He cried out, but blood erupted from his throat, cutting the sound short. The best carried him over the side of the ship and shook him lose. Rallow watched in awe as his limp body fell.

At that moment, another unicorn soared upwards from below and landed on the deck. Keb pulled out his flintlock and fired. The bullet pierced the creature’s flesh, causing silver blood to spill onto the deck.

“Don’t damage it!” Rallow shouted, “We need it as whole as possible.”

She was now on her feet as another unicorn ripped through the sails above them. She had never seen so many up close. To her left, another cannon was fired, lighting up the clouds with its blast. In that brief moment, she could see the silhouettes of nearly two dozen unicorns hovering in the sky around them. Keb saw them too.

“They tricked us! It’s an ambush!” Keb screamed, dashing to the wheel, “We have to turn back.”

“No. We stay and fight,” Rallow shouted to him, drawing her rapier.

Two more cannons were fired behind her, the explosions rocking the ship. One made contact, smashing into the side of a unicorn. It let out a sorrowful cry as it fell.

“I hit one! I hit one!” the harpooneer shouted out excitedly.

But his excitement did not last as another beast barrelled into him, slicing him in half with its horn. Rallow did not know what to do. It was all too much. Above her, a unicorn ripped another of the sails. The Pegasus II careered to one side. The ship would not stay in the air much longer.

“Keb. I’m sorry,” she said quietly as her first mate joined her at her side.

Either he did not hear or chose to ignore her, for the man did not reply. She watched as three of her crew were thrown from the edge, screaming and reaching out to grab anything that would prevent their demise. They found nothing but empty space.

Keb reloaded his pistol and jumped forward, taking on a beast that had landed on the deck. It galloped towards him, but he held his ground and fired at the last minute. The unicorn’s head exploded in a shower of silver. Keb collapsed to his knees. The horn jutted out from his chest. He had been just too late.

“We got one,” he said, flecks of blood on his lips.

He pulled the horn from his ribs and handed it up to his captain. Rallow took it in her hands, eyes brimming with tears.

“I’m sorry, Keb. I truly am,” she whispered as he pitched over onto the deck.

As she looked up, she realised she was the only one left. The Pegasus II toppled even further and began to fall. Clouds rushed by as she fell too, the deck tipping away from her feet. She clutched the horn close to her breast. Wind ripped at her face. The rumbling grew in her ears.

As she fell, a unicorn flew beside her, following her descent. For just a moment, they shared a look, and Rallow knew what it meant. They had won. She had been defeated. Captain Rallow, the Unicorn Slayer was no more. A strange smile crawled across her face. The stories they would tell about her. The songs they would sing.

Her father would be proud.

First Piece of Artwork - Corver by Joe Watson

I am very excited to show you the first piece of artwork for 'The Shieldlaw Trilogy', and it is a picture of Corver, the mysterious old magician who helps Erryn in a time of great need.

That is all I can say about the character right now, to find out more, you'll have to read 'The Shadows Dance' when it drops in November.

If you want to see more artwork from Joe Watson, go to his blog: http://www.joewatsonillustration.com/

He's got some absolutely kick ass stuff that I'm sure you'll love.

Blood Blight

“The Blood Blight is a fearful disease that has taken many a premature life in its wake. It spreads from host to host in the blood, often through open wounds. After one contracts the disease, it is unlikely that they survive for more than two weeks. Symptoms include: bloodshot eyes, fatigue, fever, violent fits and vomiting blood.”

- from ‘Northern Plagues’ by Gauwill Everine

Blood blight is one of the most feared diseases in all the Wester Lands. Despite the rarity of it surfacing, the memory of those taken in its red claws is fresh on many poor soul's mind. Luckily for us, it has been many years since Dunneland has experienced the blood blight. It was many years ago, as far back as 125th year of the Fifth Age that a plague on a mass scale was last recorded, where Fellmoor was struck first, and it soon spread to Tarcott and then the county capital of Caperacre. Those that wrote about it tell of feverish screaming in the night, piles of bodies by the roadside and a fear of going outside held by everyone with any sense about them.

Gauwill Everine, in her book 'Northern Plagues' has documented many of the symptoms in great detail, as well as the causes of the disease. If you fear that your town may be struck, or that you are at risk, I recommend heartily this fine book, available in many libraries and bookshops. 

During my reading up on the blood blight, it got me thinking. Maybe it's time for the blood blight to strike again. Maybe Fester has been summoning all his forces to strike us with all his might. Maybe this time, the county will not recover. That is why it is only a few weeks until I am travelling across the sea to the Eastern States. I wish not to experience it again.

~ 'BEWARE! The Blood Blight!', a pamphlet by Robert Ventril