#miomir

LOOK IMMA LET YOU FINISH BUT THIS WOULD BE A GREAT WAY TO WRITE LIA AND AERN

HEY NOW

THAT IS A GREAT IDEA

DID U SAY MIOMIR

Ehehehehe

I did

I actually mashed together a d20 system (because I like that system better than d10), and a Warhammer-like profession system (Career Path) rather than just the traditional D&D classes for Miomir-specific ones. I have all my notes for it, still, actually! Region notes for Brinidoth (though it was going to be set on the other continent, Makonia), class notes and bonuses for race, etc. and the scale for Qualities and Attributes (stuff like dex, con, intelligence, etc), a leveling scale, bonuses, how saves will be calculated, Traits (and how those are calculated), what the “magic pool” for each playable race would be... and a fate system, because I love fate systems

It’s not completely finished, though, and I never got around to solidifying a campaign plotline for it (though it was supposed to be set during the Fifth Age, an Age before the main series

6. things you said under the stars and in the grass

“They’re different,” Aern had told her one night seven months ago.

She hadn’t answered him right away, instead rolling his words over in her mind, trying to settle on what it was he meant. It had always been something of an unspoken game she had to herself--he had the habit of starting in the middle of a thought, and she took delight in trying to jump to where his mind had wondered.

She remembered how the soft tufts at the end of terrefis grass fronds bobbed all around them, arcing over where they lay. Head to head on the ground, Liadin had felt when he shifted his arms up to pillow his head, his elbows neatly framing her shoulders while she considered what he’d said.

“You don’t recognize any?” she’d asked at length.

A soft laugh had drifted from him, softer in memory than it had really been then. “Now I do. But, it was strange the first time I came so far from home. I watched the familiar sky I grew up with fade into one I knew nothing about.”

“It’s so very different?”

“In some places. Where I was born, there are stars that will never be seen down here, because it is so far north. There are others in the middle that you can see if you know where to find them.”

“Show me one of those.” A quick and bright desperation to find a bridge in the sky had formed in-between her rib bones, to find something that connected his faraway home to hers.

Aern had fallen quiet for a while, leaving Lia to still the breath fluttering in her chest for fear he’d hear.

I need Greek/Roman-flavored and Horn of Africa/Eastern Africa-flavored names--men, women, places, titles--for an original story (set in Miomir). I have some, but they’ve sort of been earmarked for another story set in an earlier time, and I don’t want to reuse them. I obviously will make more of my own, regardless if people toss some my way or not, and I may not use those people do send (though I very well might, keep that in mind! If you don’t want me to potentially use something, don’t suggest it), but I thought it might be fun for people who like my writing and would enjoy my original works to have a chance to make suggestions that very well might end up being officially used.

I’m using placeholders now for characters, as I got hit with an idea on how to start writing (which I was honestly a little worried about--how to start this story, which actually begins two years before the rest of what’s going to happen) and didn’t want to lose the idea by getting bogged down in names--but I admit it’s a little jarring to keep writing [Name] for my main characters |D

Not much actual narrative written today, but did a lot of background work and sussed out the issue of scale for two of the three maps I have so far (and there will be more), and, even more exciting, had nearly all the pieces fall into place of how to make a particular story work in Miomir, on which I am now scribbling notes.

Onward and upward, one page at a time!

1.

“Summer apples,” Roe said, flicking the reigns to get his horses dragging the wagon into creaking motion. “Brought up from the Mittair plateau. Ever had them?”

Ceilan took one out of the bag. It was brightly colored, yellow and pink, small enough to fit within the palm of his hand. “I have not.”

“First bite’s a little tart—that’s just the skin,” Roe told him happily, guiding the horses back into the ruts lf the wagon path leading west. “But after that they’re sweet.” He held out his hand. “Pass me one, will you?”

2.

“I follow the Fortune Winds or the Winds of Trade,” she said.

“What about following that sound?”

“... What sound?”

“Don’t you hear it? It sounds like… faint music or singing…?”

“No, no. We never follow that one.”

3.

“Another one?”

The stack of half-unrolled parchment scrolls on the desk before her seemed unreasonable enough, yet her mother stood in the doorway with her hands full of more.

“Try ‘another seven’.” Her mother crossed the solar and set the scrolls on the desk. “Have you narrowed your selection down at all?” She eyed the rumpled pile already there.

The woman sitting at the desk sighed. “That is my ‘No’ stack.”