Heyho folks, The_Archmagos here, but call me Arch! I'm a Singaporean student (He/Him), avid worldbuilder, and shoddy writer!
Recently, thanks to some incredible support and engagement with some of the wonderful Writeblrs here (Looking at you, @lividdreamz !), I've decided to publsh and share a little bit more of my Works here on Tumblr! Decent chance tha actual stuff's gonna be utterly all over the place, release wise, but I wanna have fun!
I'll likely focus a lot more on the broader concepts within "worldbuilding", specifically on my main setting called "The 12 Worlds". Most of my writing will likely focus more on the United Commonwealth, my main faction and the undeniable "Good Guys" of the whole show, with topics being things like Geopolitics and Government Institutions and Systems, Military doctrines, strategy, and technology, and whatever else happens to interest me! I do really enjoy getting to interact with folks, so if you wanna chat on all things Worldbuilding or Writing, I'd be happy to oblige!
Like, Reblog, hit me with an Ask, whatever, I hope to get to bring my Works to the nice folks of the Writeblr community!
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I've decided that it's been far, far too long since I last did any actual prose, and that since I won't actually be getting a long break from work for a while I might as well try and get some writing done right now. I've been sitting on the bones of this scene for a month almost, but as usual it took a lot more to turn it into an actual 'story'. It's finally given me a chance to try and depict my 'magic system', such as it is, as well as the 'real' ugly, terrifying, painful horror of war.
TW: graphic descriptions of combat injuries, blood, wounds, and death. Especially an attempt to describe a Sucking Chest Wound, which is particularly unpleasant and also something you absolutely should not look up if blood makes you uncomfortable.
Monier fell to his knees beside the screaming man, cutting a hole through his shirt to expose the ragged holes where shrapnel had shredded his pale skin, now stained dark with blood. Ignoring the endless screams, he put down his scissors and took a pair of silver prongs from his kit bag and began to work, willing every mote of his limited magical skill to the task. His eyes, in their second sight, peered into the underlay and saw the hard, cold lumps buried in the still living flesh. Monier put the silver rods into the man's wounds, crushing him to the ground as he writhed in pain, and they anchored and focused the working of his will as he fixed the metal shards in an ethereal grip and pulled. The man, his high voice screaming, thrashed madly as the shrapnel tore backwards through the channels it had cut and fell to the ground. He cast again. The wound was burned clean in a flash of power that closed blood vessels and knitted flesh just enough to keep together, before Monier pulled back, gasping hungrily for air. His aide got gauze and bandages around the man's torso, and he was taken away. Even as his stunned senses returned to him, the next blood soaked stretcher was carried in by the shivering orderlies and dropped, screaming, in the vacant space on the floor.
Stunned, Monier kneeled and tried to gather his wits as the body's ballistic plate was pulled away and his shirt cut apart. This one wasn't screaming, the young and pale face slack, and dark blood like the dying light of day poured in pulses from a gaping hole in a chest that showed raw flesh and made a wet hiss with every failing breath from a collapsing lung. Instantly, his aide kneeled across from him and began compressing the man's chest in steady beats. Monier tried to draw out the blood from the drowned chest and stem its flow, but the flood was too much; he tried to mend the ragged hole in his lung, but its frenzied spasms tore his delicate work apart like tissue, wasted; and then he knew, with a terrifying certainty, that his will was spent, that he'd already used too much and his charges would pay for it, and all he could work with now was his hands.
He wiped away dark blood from the entry wound, covered it with a plastic dressing, and sealed it with tape on three sides, leaving a gap for trapped blood and air to gush out. But the body hadn't stirred, for all his exhausted aide's efforts. With the dregs of his strength Monier peered through the underlay at the fading wisps of its spirit. He grasped for it, fighting to hold it in a deathly grip, but it was going as surely as the body was failing. Monier said a silent prayer for the man's immortal soul as the force of the man's life slipped from its body, even as he dragged himself back into the real to save himself from being pulled with it.
In November I get to go see the USS Texas at her morning in Galveston. You can't go in but you can do a water tour around the ship. She was launched 114 years ago
Hell yeah! I heard Texas was undergoing some intensive renovation to keep her viable as a museum ship in the future, but it's cool to hear they're still doing some kind of tour. She's a very, very cool ship
Did you ever just feel so lucky for knowing someone you met online? Like.. I was one click away from not following you. I was one second away from never even knowing of your existence.I would never have been this happy!!!...
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If anyone feels like a failure, just know that two years ago we were offered a book deal by Penguin Random House but did not realise because we never checked our DMs and by the time we finally read the message the offer had expired.
Two years later we cold emailed penguin and they said we can still write the book. Which is a bit of a problem because now we have to learn how to write a book.
Inspired by the fluffly goblins roaming my neighborhood in Montreal. The next painting will include that tailless blonde raccoon I met in the spring. He's no Jimothy but he's still super special.
This original sold out but I have prints waiting for you on Inprnt, links in my highlights.
This is such a niche concern but those African Violets in the dang grocery story DESERVE BETTER. They are underdeveloped for the amount of flowers they have, which means that they are being fed fertilizer made to push them to produce flowers and not to grow. Those are babies. They have the sparsest of leaves, so the moment anyone gets them home, and stops shoveling fertilizer down their throats, they will begin to wither. So you'll go back and buy more African Violets that have no chance of survival, fueling a whole death-based plant industry. African Violets should have large and vibrant green leaves, without yellow, brown, or spotted leaves. The leaves should create a gorgeous backdrop for the flowers. And these plants should NOT drop dead in months. I have cared for African Violets most of my adult life. My current oldest is 5 years, but they can live for decades. If you like what you see in the grocery, go to a nursery that sells violets. Ask about care and watering and proper fertilizer. Love your plants.
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Swords in a historical context were analogous to sidearms - built for flexibility of use and ease of transport, as well as taking on the role of a status symbol in a lot of feudal and early-modern societies. They are inextricably tied to notions of heroism in most cultures, yes, but also to concepts and institutions such the nobility, monarchy, and the existence of a wealthy warrior class. The role of a sword as a weapon of choice in fiction, then, serves as a subtextual elevation of the user’s importance; they have been marked out by destiny, the divine, social expectation, circumstance, or any other number of things, as special. Important. Powerful.
Warhammers in the European tradition were a response to advancements in plate armor technology: by the late Middle Ages, plate armor granted such significant protection to those lucky enough to lay their hands on a full suit that they posed an almost insurmountable threat to an unarmored fighter with armed with only a sword, club, or rudimentary spear. Late-medieval full plate is one of the purest symbols of power projection and power preservation in military history— in fiction, they mirror the status and power of the sword, stripped of the romantic and heroic ideals granted to the sword by its storied history.
As a weapon specifically designed to respond to and defeat plate armor, the warhammer can be viewed as its symbolic antithesis: where plate armor embodies the idea of unassailable strength and martial dominance, the warhammer as a weapon evokes the destruction and dismantling of said strength— a weapon designed to pierce, tear apart and sunder the idea that being powerful and being untouchable are synonymous. Where the sword symbolizes elevating a person to power, and plate armor symbolizes power seeking to perpetuate itself, the warhammer symbolizes the leveling of tools and structures that would convince us that power cannot be challenged.
I think the warhammer gets slept on here because, symbolically, fire does that job so much better.
In the real world it’s frustratingly difficult to burn your unworthy oppressors, but in fiction, a flask of lamp oil and a handy torch is enough to turn that protection into an oven, and a warhammer rarely brings down a castle unless wielded by a giant of some stripe, but how many villains have you seen perish as their castle/fortress/secret lair/starship burns to the ground?
If armor symbolizes untouchable power, a castle is a symbol of all that plus institutional might.
The warhammer has the historical heft and the practical realities, but it’s the torch, and its often-partner the pitchfork, that are instantly recognizable as ‘the people have had enough’.
And there’s also the elegant weapon/brute weapon tropes, where the weapons that symbolize skill are generally seen as heroic while weapons associated with strength or brutal damage are seen as villainous, with weapons of stealth being elegant or brutish depending on if they’re being used by a cunning hero or a cowardly villain. (if the stage-fighting is dance-like, its probably a good guy/elegant weapon)
It’s a loose trope, and one that’s very subject to context, but if I think about fictional hammer-wielders, the heroic ones tend to either be using ones that are either literally mallets or blacksmiths’ hammers, or they evoke them, with the heroic warhammer wielder generally being a “big guy” character who uses it as a symbol of raw strength.
But most of the time, a warhammer is in the hands of some heavily plated hulking death-knight or its being swung by a literal or figurative ogre, which is kinda similar to what the Kanabō has going on, being a blunt weapon made to fuck up armored opponents that wound up being associated with oni.
Oh, and there’s also the element that in modern/online spaces, the word is most frequently used in relation the game, and it carries an associated miasma of brutality.
This is how I know I read different fantasy than the rest of this site. My main read of warhammers, alongside the even more basic form of a mace, is as tools of simplicity and practicality efficiency, wielded by professional soldiers who choose it to suit the purpose before them over the less specialised sword even though they have the skill for either. The things I read never engage in the notions of moralising skill vs 'brute' strength, because they understand, among other things, that your 'evil' enemy is most assuredly as skilled as you are, or else they wouldn't be a danger at all, while for your part you must use every tool of strength and skill you have at hand when your ends justify those means, without regard for the supposed 'dishonour' of a tool.
Also, I still only ever imagine this when warhammers are mentioned, and find references to the ridiculously oversized fantasy warhammers to just be signs of unserious nonsense.
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Starting my neolithic Rimworld clan and already this one lady is just repopulating the world. She has two husbands and as soon as she gives birth the other gets her knocked up again. I just discovered walls and she has like 5 kids. They're all starving so the last resort is the first one to die feeds the rest
Hajuka has 9 many kids. 9. Thankfully some have died but even with preventative measures she keeps spitting them out. I ran out of clothes so they pop out and immediately die of hypothermia. But we have plenty of food so these ones get buried. She's over 40 as a prehistoric woman and still making babies. We will conquer the world with the children of Hakuja
Hey! Just wrapped up an article for World Anvil Summercamp, and decided to share it here. Boy it's been a while since I posted some full length worldbuilding, but it's been nice getting to do some of it during this week of leave.
The De Pury-class was a series of large frigate of the Republic of Nouvoloire's Marine Republicaine, or Republican Navy. The eight ships of the class were named in honour of the eight household knights of Antoine d'Polanger, founder of the Goilac Empire and unifier of the Gollandiac lands, earning the type the collective nickname of 'les chevaliers'. With the first ship of the class commissioned in 146, the De Purys would be the first new type of major warship the MR would receive ever since the declaration of the Republic of Nouvoloire under its democratic government in 129, which inaugurated its rule with a moratorium on new naval construction. As highly capable vessels incorporating modern systems and the lessons learned in the Yunxi War to great effect, the De-Purys gave the MR a keen qualitative edge over other navies in the region, and were regarded as genuine peers to all but the most modern surface combatants in its weight class in the United Commonwealth Navy.
Development And Disagreement
With the fall of democratic rule and the rise of La Clique, many of the MR's leading minds were eager to make up for lost time. Years of neglect under a pacifist government had left the fleet in a state of disrepair, with ships run ragged from lifetime extension programmes to keep up numbers in the absence of new builds. Now, with a glut of new funding from a regime that saw a potent navy as a vital tool for its expansionist designs over the region, the opportunity had come for the MR to reassert its status as the pride of the nation.
These aspirations, however, did not necessarily translate into a race to lay down as many new frigates and cruisers as the shipyards could manage. Naval leaders at every level had long divided themselves into factions based around their narrow branches of the service, with submariners, aviators, and surface sailors all competing for funding and, even more crucially, shipyard space. With the relative inferiority of submarine technology in the Republic, the fliers of the Flotte Avienne would make up the primary institutional obstacles to the surface fleet's most grandiose plans for the new class.
With the deadline for the finalisation of Naval Plan 140 fast approaching, the contest of wills between the two factions was hard fought. The MR's two rapidly aging aircraft carriers, Coudia and Autiers, were both its central symbols as well as the source of its actual striking power. The FA's leading officers thus viewed surface combatants as mere escorts for the vaunted carriers, there to protect the capital ships from submarines and any air threats that make it past their strike fighters. Their vision for the next generation of Republican frigates were vessels that were almost entirely without offensive teeth of their own, but carrying powerful sensors and either a heavy payload of air defence missiles or aeroship facilities and torpedoes to hunt adversary submarines. Resentful of this perceived slight against their clan, surface fleet officers would question the viability of relying on airpower as the only offensive tool across the fleet, especially when measured against the infamous carrier task groups of the UCN. They also noted that the small size of the fleet at large created a need for more firepower, not less, to be installed on every hull that could carry a missile battery. Arguments that the latest generation of carrier strike aircraft, to be procured jointly with the Ocrisian Empire under Project Sabre, would provide enough of a boost in striking power were rejected on the basis that the carriers could carry fewer of these larger aircraft, negating the extent of any increase in offensive strength.
Ultimately, it would be the surface officers who won the argument. Of the two frigate designs on order under NP-140, one a larger 7,500 tonne ship and other a smaller 4,000 tonne ship, they would succeed in removing the requirement put forwards by their aviator colleagues for the larger vessel to incorporate a sizable aeroship facility. Instead, it would keep its air defence capability and dedicate the freed up displacement, space, and budget to outfit the ships with a potent suite of ship-killers.
Characteristics
The most distinctive feature of the De Purys is its main armament. Installed on either side of the towering bridge superstructure are eight gargantuan angled deck launcher cells carrying the 'Tridente' supersonic antiship missiles, an Ocrisian design produced under license in the Republic. These ten metre long missiles can reach out to almost over two hundred kilometres, delivering their high explosive payloads at three times the speed of sound while skimming just above the waves to frustrate detection and interception. A twin five-inch gun turret mounted on the forecastle and eight deck launcher cells for the smaller 'Clou' antiship missiles on the fantail round out the vessels surface firepower.
As the largest class of surface combatant in the MR, the De Purys filled the role of chief air defence asset for their carrier group. A pair of twin-armed missile launchers, one between the bridge and forward turret and the other just behind the smokestack, fire 'Pavois' interceptor missiles, guided to their targets by the Fire Control and Area Search Wave Emission Sensors installed on their towering sensor mast.
While the Ocrisian Marte Tactical Management Network had been intended to be installed on the class since its inception, delays in the system's development meant the first five De Purys were completed without it installed. When present, Marte greatly improved the ship's tactical capabilities, allowing its Tridentes and Pavoises to receive targeting information from sensors on other ships and even aircraft. Indeed, the Tridente's range extended well beyond that of the ship's onboard sensors, meaning that such cooperative tactics were necessary if its weapons were to be put to their full use.
Construction
The apparent conclusion of the debate surrounding what form the MR's newest class of warship would take would not be the end of the challenges faced by the programme in getting its ships in the water. Decades of underinvestment had left the Republic's shipbuilding industry technologically backwards and much smaller than it had been in the Empire's heyday. Furthermore, this limited yard space had to be shared across the fleet's many construction programmes; of the five yards in the country that could build vessels in the eight thousand tonne range, three of them were entirely consumed with the construction of the new Mortray-class of expeditionary transports. Construction on the first pair of frigates began in 143, two years after the initial design was finalised, while the third began construction in 144 when a sixth yard, then under renovation, was ready to start work.
With the full backing of the fleet now behind the programme, the yards were pushed to work at a breakneck pace. The first ship of the class, De Pury herself, would be commissioned in early 144, with De La Morre following only two months later. Ships would be commissioned in alternating singles and pairs after that, with the last, Du Treilia, entering service in 150.
Operational Service
The De Purys would be put to work almost as soon as they were commissioned, tasked with almost continuous missions to make up for the deficiencies in quality and quantity across the fleet as a whole. De Pury and De La Morre would enter the order of battle of the Western Fleet just in time to participate in the Mutsuni Bay Crisis, which saw them rescue a convoy of Nouvoloian merchantmen en route to the Satsuga Republic and carrying a cargo of arms and munitions for local pro-Nouvoloian insurrectionists. The effect that their armament and sheer size would have on the Satsugan corvettes who had arrived to search the convoy would be noted with satisfaction by the fleet, validating their view that the warships could be a potent tool for overawing the weaker vessels of other regional navies.
De Purys would carry out similar presence missions elsewhere for the next few years, flying the flag and impressing upon the Repulic's neighbours the extent of its own strength. Their first taste of real combat would come in the Islander War of 154, where De Purys were present for every major engagement, from escorting the invasion fleet that took the Western Island of Ngaionui to the sinking of the newest of the class, De Rohan, while defending the carrier Autiers from an air launched missile strike launched from the Commonwealth carrier UCS Mystique.
Of the eight ships of the class, only five would survive to see the end of the war, and the collapse of the regime that built them.