May The Forest Be With You

so anyhow, my gran sends me a message like “pls put flowers on ur uncle samuel’s grave because he’s gone over a century with none and it will make the ghost mad if he hasn’t already” because my family spends time in europe but never long enough to go all the way to père lachaise and give ya boy samuel jr. his death rites. so im like “ok gran I can do that” bc im a good grandson and you do not fuck with gran she doesn’t DESERVE THAT 

i figure out which plot he’s on and ask someone specifically where you can find uncle samuel jr. and they tell me where and so I arrive at the junction and. 

HE GONE. 

WHERE DID YOU GO UNCLE SAMUEL. 

*celine dion’s smash hit “my heart will go on” playing in the distance* 

Wandering Star Ring (Opal) //  MorphejewelryDesign

I found some of my old editing work on a flash drive, and there was one novel which grabbed my attention and I immediately started screeching like a pterodactyl . Thankfully It never actually made it to publication because it was so bad, and the editor above me got fired for letting it get past the vetting process.

Mostly I’m just reading through it and cringing, but then I came across some of my own commentary at the side.

It starts out pretty tame. And yes, some people DO forget the names of their MC’s half way through a book. (Or the second chapter in this case, switching back and forth between Karen and Kate so much I eventually gave up.)

Then starts to become a little bit eeeeeh, and I have to make several of these changes and suggestions, mostly prompting for the language to be removed and rewritten entirely as it was VILE.

Then about chapter five I have lost my mind and well…:

An elf maiden dances on feet of living wood sung into shape, planted in soil and watered when she takes them off. Every year she plants the old ones and sings a new pair. (Incidentally, the pair of peach saplings from three years ago have produced an excellent crop- She makes preserves from them, and despite the inevitable jokes about “toe-jam”, they are appreciated.)

A dwarf king has a metal fist, all tiny gears and fine wires, kept wound by a mischievous mine-spirit bound to the spring as punishment- the more it struggles, the tighter the spring. 

An orc chieftaness is regularly asked for the story of how she earned the name Wyrmthrottler- she boasts of how she strangled the dragon that ate her arm, and had her shaman make a new arm from its bones, with its fangs as the fingers.

A necromancer simply re-attached his old leg bones- Sacrificing a few mice each day keeps it going.

A pirate captain lost her arm to a shark attack: a passing selkie saved her, and gave her tattoos of kraken blood. Now she has an arm made of salt-water, that grows and wanes with the tides, and swings a cutlass as well as the original. (She doesn’t sail as far these days though: she doesn’t want her wife to worry.)

A wandering swordsman was broken at the waist- his ancestral armour allows him to walk again, as long as he keeps it polished, and burns incense to the ancestors regularly.

A high priestess has an eye made from a crystal ball- to predict the future, all she has to do is wink.

A bard was struck deaf by illness- he struck a deal with the god of music. Now he wears hearing-trumpets made from his old pipes, and dedicates his every song to the god of music- the better he plays, the better his hearing. (It is said his music could make statues weep, and he can hear a mouse fart at 60 paces.)

A princess has the arm of a golem, enchanted clay with mystic words carved in- her music tutor despairs of how her harp playing has become even worse, but her calligraphy tutor is ecstatic over her handwriting.

A goblin pickpocket has an arm made of whatever he steals- no-one feels his fingers, and even if they did, they couldn’t find their possessions amongst all the rest.  

A witch has eyes made from shadow and starlight, given to her in a game with a demon. Nobody dares to ask what she wagered- they aren’t even sure she won.

Lets see how many witches we have on tumblr.

Ancestral Powder

This ancestral powder is a blend of dried and ground flowers and foliage from the graveside or funerary service of deceased relatives. 

Having a blend of dried materials linked to the your now deceased family member or relative is an easy way to add some ancestral power to your magic that works only and specifically for you and your purposes. 

Think of this powder like dragon’s blood or any herb used specifically to enhance the powers of a specific ingredient or boost the workings or a spell.