Note recovered from the Library of Tarbrind, following the disappearance of it's author, John Heldefson, Field Scholar.
A great dragon of the ancient world, Celethon has evaded discovery for many decades. Once a close friend of the Tarbrind King, he went into seclusion after the Great Slaughter. Although the details of his current status remain uncertain, I believe that if Celethon were dead, the consequences would be felt across world. According to historical records, Celethon is approximately 750 years old, one of the most powerful and revered of the True Dragons. He holds a unique position of authority among his kin, serving as the closest thing they have to a leader. Before the Great Slaughter, Celethon was instrumental in founding an elite order known as the Dragon Knights, or Dragoons, under the Tarbrind monarchy. The Dragoons bore Celethon's blessing and symbol, acting as an elite force of warriors and diplomats between dragons and humans, and acted as the hand of Celethon wherever he could not reach himself. They represented the alliance of human and dragon-kind. Nearly all of them perished in the Slaughter, and with Celethon's disappearance, the order collapsed. The survivors reformed as the Firewatch, who to this day carry Celethon's symbol, though they now defend against other threats. Despite his rather pervasive role in history, especially up until 150 years ago, mentions of Celethon, especially physical descriptions are surprisingly sparse, and in some texts, even seemingly censored. I am looking into the matter with the help of the Library of Tarbrind, though I believe there is another who may offer some insight. Either way, Celethon was described as a truly massive dragon, nearly 600 feet in length. His scales were purest black, each one coarse and leaf-shaped, measuring about the length of a grown man's arm. His breath, said to be the hottest fire in all the realms, was used to smelt the impervious metal wolfram, discovered by the Church of the Raven within a fallen star. In personality, Celethon was calm, wise, and deliberate. He was slow to anger, but in battle, he was a force of unparalleled power, capable of rending enemies apart with ease. His might was displayed when he single-handedly slew the dragon Celic the Black, who had razed the city of Oscillia, ripping the rebel dragon in half over the burning city. Hope remains that this titan of the ancient world will one day surface again. Searches have been conducted for decades, although they have become far less frequent due to the lack of results. Personally, I believe he still watches from the shadows, protecting the lands he once called his own.
*turns to hiking buddy*
you are hungry in the woods. are you eating moss or bug first
I am eating the big delectable USDA beef hamburger I brought with me
Eldritch Miku omgggg
Show your character's struggles with holding in emotions. Just because your character won't let themself go in public, doesn't mean they don't struggle holding everything in.
Find a motive. Pride and/or consideration for those around them can make emotionally reserved people hold back more than would be considered good for them. There are other reasons too, perhaps the initial cause and the reason now are different, but try to give them a reason.
Show side-effects. Everything you bottled up shows itself in another way, whether it's physical or mental. This can be long- and short-term, depending on the severity of the emotions.
Give them coping mechanisms. Everyone who wishes not to show certain emotions has a trick or two to keep themselves in check. Taking a sip of water, not looking people in the eyes, clenching their fists, breathing just a bit too deeply.
Write subconscious signs that they give off, which close friends or family might pick on. Just because these characters want to keep their emotions to themselves, doesn't mean they don't give off signs. Some manage to keep said signs well hidden from those closest to them, but it's more common for environment to pick up on something at the very least.
When people say, “nature is my religion” are they talking about flies that feed on shit, maggots in decomposing corpses, lionesses with stained teeth and mouths full of blood? Are they talking about floods and fires and things from which we should always run? Are they talking about carcasses, rot, death?
Or do they just mean “this particular copse of benign trees is my religion”
excited!
I have this worldbuilding project I’ve wanted to post about but not sure where to really start as I’m not much of a writer.
I already have to world’s lore written down so I might post it tomorrow. I’ll also post art with it.
I’m calling it Magic & Melodrama, but I might change the name later.
I was worldbuilding two bog standard fantasy species, wise old tree dudes and impulsive little rat guys, when I realized it was far funnier if they had each other's personalities.
The rat guys think fast and talk fast, but they're incredibly conservative and like to cover all the angles before they take any action. This comes with being a prey species: their ancestral environment had lots of clever traps and devious hazards, so you get rat councils wisely working the problem.
The tree dudes speak and move slowly, but they will propose and then do the most insane things you can imagine. They can slot together a rocket in an afternoon and will then use it without so much as a test fire first. They test new potions by quaffing them down, sometimes not even waiting for it to cool (though they're tree dudes, so I guess quaffing a potion just means pouring it over their root legs). This comes from the ancestral selection process too: the tree dudes that won were the ones that took big risks, that grew faster, stronger, and tried new things without worrying about consequences. The tree dudes evolved in an era when they had no natural predators and their only competition was each other.
And this is, of course, initially confusing for any human who makes contact with them. If a giant bearded tree nods at you solemnly and tells you to go through a portal, your first thought is not that he's curious about what will happen to spacetime. And if a hyperactive little rat guy tells you with some urgency that you must accompany him into a ruined city, you won't immediately think that this is step 11 of his branching 27 step plan.
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you're welcome
World building fiction writer, He/Him or Skele/ton.Ask me anything :)Praise the worms that break the clay,Where maggots dance and life decay For corpse lays down, and death takes hold, And in the rot, life new unfolds.
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