The Iconar Collective (OUTDATED)

[Frustration he/him]

1 minute ago, Channelknight Fadran said:

Still generally humanoid, as are all the other races

Could I get a list of the other races?

[DramaQueen]

1 minute ago, Frustration said:

Could I get a list of the other races?

He already sent it

4 hours ago, Channelknight Fadran said:

 

• • • Something better than humans for Ivinan ('cause humans are overdone)
    • I'm reducing the Fey of Feylore from a massive racist hiearchy to a slightly smaller racist hiearchy
    • The Viterans are now nature-y guys who take on the forms of various natural thingses (tree bark, mountain stone, etc)
    • Drakes are now stubby dragonling dwarfmen instead of dragonlings plus dwarfmens
    • Demons are.......... completely unchanged. They're perfect and will never be rewritten
    • I've taken the old Viteran creatures (they were called Fleekers and were basically brightly-colored humanoids) and repurposed them for Carnon because.... reasons (I have them I swear)

 

[Frustration he/him]

Just now, DramaQueen said:

He already sent it

 

Oh, thank you.

 

Fadran would a more aquatic race work?

[Channelknight Fadran]

So is this cool at all?

Spoiler

 

[DramaQueen]

Yes

[Channelknight Fadran]

H A L P

We all know that an epic army is only as good as its epic salute, and I'm afraid that I simply don't have such a thing for the Silverclad Enclave. I'm currently working on doodling Corrin in my fancy schmancy new sketchbook, but I can't decide where to put his arms--in other words, he needs a salute to do.

Y'all are plenty aware of the Bridge Four salute, and I've been absolutely madly in love with the the ones for the soldiers in Attack on Titan ("Dedicate your hearts!"). So... just giv ideas, if ya have any.

Thank.

[Thaidakar the Ghostblood he/him]

how about right arm to fore head and left arm to stomach in fists. 

[Medium he/they]

Perhaps something akin to the + sign?

Like, their left arm, from above the elbow, would be upright, with their closed fist in front of their face, palm side towards face, and their right arm would be horizontal across the arm, directly in front of the chest, again with closed fist on the end, palm side towards body.

+

plus sign salute

And I'll let you come up with name.

[Quivil she/her]

Thump your chest and make a noise. "Huuh!"

[Channelknight Fadran]

Chapter Uno: Complete!

Chapter Two: Not complete! Not starting great! Oh, gods, it's starting really bad!

[Frustration he/him]

1 minute ago, Channelknight Fadran said:

Chapter Two: Not complete! Not starting great! Oh, gods, it's starting really bad!

Qualitiativly, or content wise?

[Channelknight Fadran]

Yes. Too much dialogue. Dialogue itself is okay, but there's too much of it.

[Channelknight Fadran]

Guys, gals, non-binary pals... ladies and gentlemen we have CHARACTER ARTTTTTTT

Spoiler

 

Name: Corrin d'Regai                                                                 Name: Aurora

Race: Human                                                                              Race: Half-elf, half-human

Age: 19                                                                                       Age: 14

Gender: Male (cis)                                                                       Gender: Female (cis)

Personality Type: Controlled                                                         Personality Type: Controlled

Background: Farmer                                                                    Background: Orphan

 

Skin: Light Brown                                                                        Skin: Peach

Eyes: Gray                                                                                 Eyes: Faint blue

Hair: Brown                                                                                 Hair: Auburn

Name: Tristan n'Tendi                                                                Name: Avelyn "the First"

Race: Human                                                                              Race: Half-drake, half-human

Age: 15                                                                                       Age: 18

Gender: Male (cis)                                                                       Gender: Female (cis)

Personality Type: Reserved                                                         Personality Type: Fiery

Background: Upper-mid class                                                      Background: Assassin

 

Skin: Dark Brown                                                                        Skin: Bronze

Eyes: Pitch Black                                                                       Eyes: Green

Hair: Pitch Black                                                                         Hair: Reddish-brown

 

[The Wandering Wizard he/him]

Nice drawing as I can't draw people only dragons.

[Channelknight Fadran]

I've been writing a lot before bed recently - turns out being a night owl has its perks. Great way to pass the time.

Last night I got just over 4000 words written in the redraft, finishing up Chapter 2. Thus far I'm just a few hundred into the next bit... we'll see how far I get before the sleepiness hits.

[Frustration he/him]

Let's go man.

[Channelknight Fadran]

Screw it.

Here's Redraft - Chapter I, y'all. Knock yourselves out.

Spoiler

For Ivinan - I
Corrin | Shadelight | Camp Foliage

    A few bits of frost had decided to pinch down the edges of each blade of grass this week, crunching a little under Corrin’s steps in the stretches of unkemptness between the road and the encampment. Despite the ground’s insistence at calling out his presence to anyone within earshot, the air wasn’t quite so bad today. His breath could only barely be seen when he puffed, and with his hands firmly shoved into his pockets, all of it was quite comfortable.
    It might’ve helped, of course, that his destination was just maybe twelve or so meters away. Two large, plank-wood posts were set at the end of the frosty-grass stretch, each guarded by a couple bored-looking lieutenants from the Royal Army. Their gray-and-gold uniforms would’ve been an interesting contrast to the pale forest and dead grass had it not been for the amount of old dirtiness they’d clearly been accumulating for what could’ve been several months.
Both of the men glanced up at Corrin as he passed their old, decrepit station. According to what he’d been told, each passerby was to be questioned, identified, and examined, but these men barely moved to even look at him. As if any single traveler could do any damage to an Enclave camp: the sudden thought of that almost made him snort.
Deeper into the forest now and walking over slightly soggy gravel, the distant sounds of chatter, clanging, and other telltale ambiance of the warcamp began to sift through the air on the breeze. A little grin began tugging at the edge of his lips: the nervous, antsy kind. Suddenly he was more than aware of just how he was breathing, walking, wobbling slightly from side to side… how had he done all that so easily just a few seconds ago?
The flags were in view just minutes later, each emblazoned with a pattern of ranked colors, with the Icon of the Collective made of three crossed blades set against the shape of a shield. The banners were mostly hanging limp at the moment on the walls, most tattered and stained. Each one, more or less, had a lieutenant manning it. Most were leaning against the turrets, spears set aside haphazardly. 
The gate was wide open, and the four lieutenants guarding it barely glanced as Corrin made to pass through. One massive painted emblem of the Silverclad Enclave still bore brightly against the wood and stone above it, heralding any who entered to the outpost’s purpose. The buildings and tents were clearly visible now: barrack cabins were set up in columns by the middle, meeting chambers were strewn about in a seemingly random pattern, and a large stone keep sat directly in the middle, surrounded by soldier-manned walls. 
Filling it all, men and women—whether soldiers, prospectives, or anything else—stood in groups to mingle and chat. Nobody paid Corrin heed as he entered, which was plenty fine by him. They’d probably seen dozens of his like even just this morning alone. It wasn’t particularly often that the Enclave opened up their doors for recruiting, so weeks like these probably soaked in travelers far abroad.
He spent maybe six or twelve minutes trying to navigate the place, building a basic mental map of the area. The barracks were constructed in columns spread maybe two stones’ throw apart each, with the space in the middle taking up all the various utilities. Thus far he’d found two mess ‘halls,’ a slew of fire pits, four commanders’ tents, three armories, and—not far from the center—a smithy, which by the sounds of it was hard at work.
All this was just one outpost? Every camp was designed to have twelve such rings in total arrayed outside the heart, each with a Regent retaining full jurisdiction over it in case of invasion to optimize order and defense. And yet this place alone seemed to be more than enough to hold several dozen squadrons.
I guess I’ve just never seen an entire army before, Corrin thought to himself. Ten thousand soldiers, strikers, and captains was a number he’d probably never seen, let alone camped into such a small area. Suddenly, his distant view of the back wall shifted from awe to slight claustrophobia.
As his idle wanderings carried on, Corrin began to glance around more in confusion. Where exactly were the recruitment stations? He hadn’t seen any lines by the buildings are crowds clustered into any specific tents. Come to think of it, a lot of the other recent arrivals he’d seen were also looking rather confused. Would they eventually be called somewhere to sign up all at once? Were they expected to be able to find the station? No… that couldn’t be right.
Maybe it was a more unspoken form of contract: by entering the camp in the first place, they agreed to all the terms.
Well… I guess what else would anyone be doing here today? Corrin mused.
Not that this discovery solved much of anything, but at least he was feeling a tad bit more confident in his being here. Satisfied, Corrin took a seat on the nearest bench and decided to wait.

Aurora | Fledgelight | Tiseri

    Stepping out of the gateway, Aurora shook her head like an animal just come out from a spray of water. The trip hadn’t felt like anything at all, despite her sudden involuntary reaction. She’d expected more of the milky-white gateway behind her, but from the second she’d entered and stepped through, her sight hadn’t been distorted or hindered for all but a moment in the seemingly razor-thin stretch of glowing white ethereum.
    Traveling through the Parallarity was like stepping through any other doorway, save for the curtain of opaque, liquidy fog directly down the center. Looking into it from one end didn’t show a thing of the other, but taking the path through didn’t skip a single beat of the world shifting about.
    No, that wasn’t what caused the shivering. Nevermind that the Parallarity somehow connected the two gateways like a hole in a coin, or that she could comfortably walk a full circle around the bulky stone pillars without truly seeing the other side. It wasn’t that. Magical transportation was something she could wrap her head around.
    It was just that it had taken her right from Feylore to here in Midway… billions and billions of kilometers away.
    Lacy bumped into her from behind, grunting a word that a girl of her age really hadn’t any business uttering. Short, blonde, freckled; she stumbled backwards, rubbing her head. “Ow. Geeze, Amy…”
    “Ack, sorry…” Aurora grabbed Lacy’s wrist and squeezed it apologetically. “Vertigo, y’know?”
    “Yeah, sure.” She blinked herself of the daze, then started walking away from the portal with Aurora. 
Hordes of people were still coming through to this side, striding towards the exit. The sides of the gates were synced accurately, so one side could filter a constant inward stream, while the other would allow anyone to walk out. Just a few meters away from the two of them was a crowd of vanis, drakes, shades, and even a few sprites shuffling past each other to reach the gate. As they walked into the doorway they vanished into the mist, appearing at the other end way back in Feylore. Meanwhile, the travelers from Feylore—mostly elves, but with a few mixed peoples here and there—streamed out the other side. It was in one side and out the other, but just so… off. Wrong.
“Holy yikes.” Lacy said as she matched Aurora’s gaze. “It looks like the second half of a circle when you try to draw it freehand on the street.”
Aurora snorted. “Well okay.”
“Well, whatever—come on!” Lacy grabbed Aurora’s wrist back, now tugging on her. “Let’s get moving. You ever miss a boat before?”
“Well… no.”
“Neither’ve I, but I doubt it’s a very fun experience.”
Soon they were both half-walking, half-jogging through the crowds, pushing from empty patch to empty patch within the massive marble cathedral built around what was—other than the glowing magic curtain of teleportation, of course—a rather dull-looking pile of uniform rocks. Gods, whenever the Parallels passed away from their kingdom, the gates weren’t anything more than that anyways.
Most groups packed around the walls and pillars, so the space between was wide open for foot traffic. The crowd thinned near the exit, leaving the massive stretch of marble stairways wide open for the two of them. Lacy pulled Aurora along at a surprisingly awkward pace for her size, grasping her little bag of belongings tight in her other hand. The two of them ran forwards together, pushing out from the light of the fire and luminites towards, instead, the light of day.
The Shadelight sun cast glowing silver rays over all the city of Tiseri, gleaming off rooftops and streets still wet from melted snow they could still see drifting away from some clouds off in the distance. Colossal mountains, gigantic-treed forests, fields of hills running miles long, and a little speck of a distant realm glowing off in the sky made up the horizon and space above. 
Marble stairs led down to a blurry distance into the city, each wide and broad enough to accommodate several groups of chattering friends and families. The cathedral was built on a hilltop, so the steps near the summit were largely unhindered. As it neared the bottom, however, the city began to creep up along the slopes. Shops, inns, homes, and markets covered the edges and sides. Wood, stone, bricks, and everything in between constructed the entirety of it all, built in everything ranging from little huts to cascading lines of walls, pillars, and rooftops.
In the high light of day, everyone bustled about from place to place. Children chased each other in their games, teenagers not much older than the two of them filed out their school buildings, and men at the markets continued selling out their wares, the prices steep and lucrative with the onset of the Shadelight. Even from here, the noise filled the air with a clamoring richness.
Aurora found herself blinking, trying to adjust—though not to the brightness.
They ended up breaking contact to descend the stairs, both going at their own pace (Lacy had to stop periodically and let Aurora catch up, bouncing impatiently a few stairs down). Neither of them said a word on the way down, both silently staring—gawking, really—and taking it all in.
Just a few minutes later, they’d reached the edge of the city proper. The two of them packed together and watched the world from their hunkered stances, like children by their parents at a fair. Shouts came from everywhere: slews of merchants calling out their wares and prices, old friends sharing the latest gossip, local police chasing after vagabond children, animals being led to their buyers… all completely different, but somehow just like the sounds of their old home.
“Don’t get too used to it,” Lacy warned. “We’re not gonna be here for even a day at this rate.”
Lacy was right, according to their travel schedule. Was it really possible that this entire city could be traversed in just a few hours? She’d have believed it if they were on mountback, but not on foot.
An hour is a long time, Aurora thought to herself. And a lot can happen when you put them together.
They dropped off the last stair—Aurora with a stride, Lacy with a leap. The uneven cobblestones were quite the change from the smooth, polished marble they’d just ben walking down, but it wasn’t anything unfamiliar at all. An awful lot of their previous livelihood had been traveling around on streets just like this.
Most travelers probably never bothered to look, but the two of them were acutely aware of every orphan, vagabond, and ‘unruly riffraff’ sitting in the shadows, just out of sight. The kids might’ve been trying to escape the hellscapes of the worst orphanages; might’ve just been ignored by the people in charge of throwing them there in the first place. They’d known both over the years.
Lacy’s hand suddenly shot into the air. “Hiya! Hey!”
Aurora frowned and followed her gaze to a man traveling by wagon down the road. “What…”
“You headed downhill?”
The man blinked, but nodded. “Uh… yeah.”
“Mind if we hop in?”
He glanced over his shoulder, then looked back. “I guess so?”
Lacy grabbed Aurora, smiling at the man as she jumped into the wagon. “Thanks!
“Um… Lace…”
“What?” Lacy set her bag down and stretched. “Just means we’ll have time for lunch before we get out of the city, and gods am I famished.”
“That doesn’t mean—”
“Ey, we do it all the time.”
“This isn’t Elsinia. It’s…” Aurora struggled for the words. Not our city.
Lacy shrugged. “He said it’s okay, so it’s okay. Look, we gotta make time. And we’re in Midway now, yeah? Headed to Ivinan. Where folks go to make the whole world their own.”
“We’re not there yet, Lace.”
“Darn right. ‘S my point.”
Aurora hung her head and sighed, but said nothing else as the wagon rolled along down the street.

Corrin | Shadelight | Camp Foliage

    The bell in the center began ringing maybe a couple idle strolls around the camp later, attracting in all the other prospectives to conglomerate by the keep. Corrin strode in down a line of cabins, following suit. So they were finally going to explain things? About time.
    The crowds were around the outer walls of the keep, packing into a tighter group to look up at the figures standing behind the turrets. They all appeared to be squadron captains, standing in full uniform and full salute: blue button-up jackets with silver trim, the Enclave emblem over the chest pocket, crossed by one arm to the left shoulder and the other to the elbow. The Regent commander was standing right over the gate into the keep in the middle of them each, uniform a strangely respectable shade of purple. He looked over the crowd of prospective soldiers, nodding appreciatively. By the time the majority had filed in he cleared his throat. 
Everyone went silent.
“As of now, all of you are officially Enclave cadets!” He announced. “Congratulations, I suppose, to those of you who managed to hitch a wagon ride here.”
That elicited a few chuckles here and there, but he didn’t seem the least bit amused.
“Based on approximation, in this outpost alone, there are nearly five hundred of you. In all the camp outskirts, I wouldn’t be surprised if there are upwards of six thousand.” The Regent glanced over the crowds one more time, gauging their response. “If all of you were fully-trained soldiers, I could oust every last demon hiding in the south’s crevices within the next Passing… but the amount of you who could actually contribute to that kind of thing?”
He leaned forwards.
“I’d argue maybe two or three dozen.”
A few of them started muttering, but as the Regent continued they either silenced themselves or each other.
“I’m not here to mince words. The vast majority of you lack the strength to survive even just a few minutes on the battlefield, and the rest couldn’t hold their position against an onslaught of demons without screaming like a child. If you think that you can brute force yourself through all the training and battles to come, then—put simply—you are wrong.
“The strongest among you can be the weakest-willed, and those who push themselves to the absolute peak of their abilities… they lack the abilities to push themselves towards. If any of you came here after mastering one thing and leaning on that, then think again: because you will be the first to die.”
Nobody moved a muscle. Not a single voice, breath, cough, or anything else was heard.
“I’ll have captain Dain l’Gari explain the selection process now.” The Regent nodded at the nearest captain, then exchanged seats with him to let the other man speak.
Captain Dain carried a sort of weight about him. Not in a physical sense—though Corrin doubted that his tough, soldier-born frame of his was light—but in a more commanding sort of way. He looked like the sort of man who could quiet an entire tavern just by entering. His uniform was perfectly groomed and straight, hair cut evenly to the shape of his head, and the hilt of his sword poking out from the black leather sheath.
“Before I continue, let me clarify one thing,” the captain said. “Hundreds have died in our selections before. We have contingencies and systems to send the failed ones back home, but we are not perfect. On the battlefield we defend our comrades, but by in large the greatest killer here is by the individuals lacking the initiative to protect themselves.
“In the event that you are in extreme danger, there will be no shame in running for your life and finding the nearest proctors. You will be disqualified. We won’t hold that against you in future recruitments, nor will we record or distribute exact details. Simply, you will be forgotten: it’s more important to us to direct our attention to the ones that made it.
“When we say you may die, it is because almost every single cadet to lose their life in the selections has died because they chose to ‘tough out’ a situation that they were simply incapable of handling. Willpower will not grant you strength: know your limits.”
Corrin swallowed and glanced around him, a little unsure. Gazes searching for some kind of validation were being cast about by almost everyone. Some cadets bit their lips and furrowed their brows; others pinched their temples and squeezed their eyes shut. Had that many of them really not made up their minds about this yet?
Had he made up his?
“The selection will begin at dawn, two days from now.” The captain’s demeanor had changed. Somehow it had gone from precaution to instruction in just a matter of moments. “Every cadet who stays until then will receive a single pack of various supplies, with which they will embark on our journey to Camp Ember, at the edge of the Broken Fields.
“The first leg of the journey will take us to the town of Salady. That’s a little under a week’s time to complete along the road. However…”
Only his voice changed—not a shift or nudge in his posture.
“All of you will be traveling through the forest, and are expected to rendevous with the rest of the army in twelve days.” He nodded and saluted. “That is all.”
The chatter immediately broke out again. Cadets turned to their companions, questions and worries flying from their mouths. They packed into groups of friends, leaving Corrin to hear their conversations as little more than a bystander.
“One pack of supplies each? Will that last us through the woods for a week?”
“We’re gonna have to scavenge for supplies. Tsk. Anyone worth his boots can do that.”
“But the Broken Fields aren’t anything like the forests. You don’t hafta scrounge for berries and rivers in the army… ‘least I don’t hope so.”
“Why test us now? Isn’t this what training’s for? Let the soldiers take the forest: bring us to the camp and show us how to fight already. We’ll prove ourselves later.”
Corrin frowned and glanced at the ground, thinking. Headed through the forest made sense enough to him. It would test basic survival skills and instincts: all things one would need to make it through a battlefield. And that warning the captain gave… he guessed that as long as they knew which side of the road they were on, it couldn’t be that hard to run out and find the soldiers if someone needed to throw in the towel.
All the logistics made sense, but something was still bugging him. Just something about the captain’s demeanor had struck him as odd. Sure, giving the weak cadets the option to bail now was important, but these kinds of decisions were two-sided. That meant that the warning was both a chance for backing out… but at the same time, it was the first choice for them to make towards moving onward.
The selection wasn’t beginning in two days: in fact, it had already begun.

Apologies for the nasty formatting

Edited June 19, 2022 by Channelknight Fadran

[Quivil she/her]

First of all, it's awesome and I love it and I want to read more. It was a sad thing when I realized I'd gotten to the end of the snippet.

And I think the formatting's good. It makes sense and doesn't break the flow of the story.

 

On 6/19/2022 at 0:21 AM, Channelknight Fadran said:

throw in the towel

This phrase feels very... modern Earth-ish. I don't think it's a problem unless someone's looking for it, but it makes the book feel a bit different. It's a bit like putting "OK" in a Regency book - something most people wouldn't notice, but that wouldn't fit exactly right.

It's not something that definitely needs changing though.

If you want, I can try to help think of or find good substitutes. If this doesn't matter, sorry for bringing it up.

Edited June 20, 2022 by Tani

[Channelknight Fadran]

Have some BRAND brand new NEW CHARACTER ARTS

These ones by me:

Spoiler

And this one by BirdmanArt from Art Fight. It's just so scudding good and adorable that I have to include it:

Spoiler

 

[Channelknight Fadran]

[Robin Sedai she/her]

That looks amazing! You really get the sense of him being in motion.

[Channelknight Fadran]

I dunno about this one. The proportions seem right and all, but there's just this looming aura of...

bad-ness.

Spoiler

But this one's cute! It's quite a bit different than the other kinds of things I usually draw, so I guess the ambiguity kinda helps.

Spoiler

 

[Channelknight Fadran]

Am gonna be dumping info on each realm and their peoples and such.

Ivinan - the Ivari

Spoiler

History

The people of Ivinan were the first of every realm to militarize, forming their first broad societies into feudal territories. Several centuries of conflict between nobles forged the same bloodlines that rule the kingdom to this day, wiping out entire families to bring rise to the big seven: Alnia, Potin, Sawngat, Kuishen, Gilgandar, Quen, and Ilur. They eventually unified under a more diplomatic competition for power, each vying for an heir to the Grand Throne by any means necessary--marriage, assassination, contract, blackmail, etc. The same methods are used between successions in battles of land, resources, and political favor.

Upon the founding of the Parallarity, the dukedoms turned their gazes to other opportunities. While the kingdom forged treaties and alliances (most notably with Feylore and Sunkane), the families began privately and quietly funding militias and armies. As peace turned to conflict, they combined their forces into one great pool of soldiers and generals, known as the Goldenrod Enclave. No one dukedom had enough military power to fight an entire realm, so this unification was devised. By contributing soldiers, weapons, resources, infrastructure, etc. in the wars against Drakefell and Carnon, they continued to subtly vy for power and influence.

This era ended when the Order of the Channelknights was founded. Land and prisoners were returned (though not without their prices), and the grand quest for war profiteering was ended. The dukedoms continued passively funding their militias, of course, but turned their gazes back to political and diplomatic influence over martial prowess. Efforts for an alliance with Vitera all failed due to the realm's lack of governmental structure, and while the conflict between Ivinan and Carnon slowly faded away, the hatred against Drakefell remained strong.

Of course, the Fall of the Channelknights brought this peace crashing down. As it was Sunkane's own Grand Elite who betrayed and destroyed the order, all alliances with the realm were shattered almost immediately. The dukedoms gladly broke out their military reserves and restarted funding martial ventures, pushing for an even greater unification of forces in order to push back against Sunkane. While Vitera and Feylore opted to stay as neutral as possible (both, however, profited greatly from subtly assisting the new alliance), Ivinan was pushed to ally with Carnon and Drakefell--very begrudgingly.

This new unification was named similarly to the last: in the year 2 of the Purification Era, the Silverclad Enclave was born. Militaristically, it was overwhelmingly consisted of Ivinan's soldliers. Drakefell wound up supplying mostly weapons and armor, while Carnon contributed barely anything. During this time, Ivinan accrued even more power and influence over the entire Collective, becoming arguably the most powerful of all the realms (tied with Sunkane).

Thus it remains up until the book series...

The Culture

In case you can't tell, Ivinan is the most humanistic of all the realms. It's largely based on the "medieval" era of Europe (put in quotations because I know you history geeks are gonna dunk on me about how the medieval era was actually then not then and had this but not that and, like... just shush. I mean back in the time when people had swords and wizards still existed and scud).

For any given person in Ivinan, the overwhelming likelihood is that they're a farmer. Despite all the political intrigue and militarism, Ivinan is by and large an agricultural kingdom. Most people will never be directly affected by what the big royal families do to and with each other, let alone care. They're born to their family's farm, learn to work it, then inherit it when they grow up. Some might be lucky enough to be born into a bit of wealth, hire some hands, and grow their franchise, but generally that's the extent of it.

However, Ivinan's prosperity means that it's far from airtight. It's entirely possible for anyone with enough tenacity, luck, and hard work to get ahead. Some will hone their magical abilities to get accepted into the Arcane Academy, opening up a whole world of career options from there. Others might try a pot at the Silverclad Enclave, serving their kingdom for a life of adventure (and relative job security at the cost of constant mortal peril). It's also not unheard of for commoners to run in with the smaller noble houses and marry into wealth, securing better lives for their children. Many will become merchants, craftsmen, or work in some other kind of trade.

On the other hand, though, it's also not difficult for the wealthy to fail and fall hard. It's incredibly important for the smaller noble houses to stay in favor with their superiors, as estates and equivalents are essentially playthings for the dukedoms. Entire ruling families can be ousted from their position at a moment's notice, whether it be as a punishment or due to their superiors replacing them as a prize for some other servant. Due to this, the best nobles learn to diversify their resources. They'll often invest in their neighbors and friends as a fallback, building relations to stay afloat for at least the rest of their own lives.

Similarly, most non-inheritor noble children will seek out alternate careers. Many will start businesses, trade caravans, or even buy out some of their family's own land to start their own estate. Some will become instruments for their family, turning their lives to intrigue and manipulation. Most daughters will become socialites to marry into other families, though it's certainly not unheard of for sons to do the same. Lateborn and illegitimate children will either wind up working with the uprosen commoners in trades. Most black market associates, spies, and assassins are actually noble by birth.

Small Stuff

Uhh... I don't really know what to put here? I can't very well go through every single town, city, subculture, norm, more, career, and institution.

So here's a list of stuff that I've actually decided upon:

• Corrin's from Draycott. It's a large town in Kuishen estate that farms all kinds of bulb crops. Onions, garlic, leeks, tulips, hyancinths... that sort of thing. They're closely connected to several other farming villages via a large market road, which keeps their economy (and their diet) nice and diversified.
• Originally I thought I'd have the Ivari have a broader skin tone range (darker darks and lighter lights), but I've... kinda just been drawing everyone as dark-ish skinned. So I've opted to make Ivinan a kingdom of darker-skinned people, and Feylore's gonna have all the white folks.
• Most people respect their ruling nobles. As nasty and backhanded as the politics get, it's generally considered bad business to treat the commoners badly; not to mention that each noble is just vying for the land and its resources, not how the land itself is ruled. It couldn't really matter less to the workers as to who's in charge.
• Architectural styles are... well, I guess I can't very well just say that they're 'gothic' or 'roman' or something. This is a completley different world, with completely different ideas of style. But I like cottages, cobblestone roads, stone castles, and dark wooden stuffs.

And here's the art:

Spoiler

 

 

Edited August 1, 2022 by Channelknight Fadran

[Channelknight Fadran]

Hi there hello

I need help

naming help

 

Spoiler

help

 

[Medium he/they]

i'm good at naming.

give me information about what i'm naming and i will name it