Monday, October 14, 2013

Why I have been completely unproductive*

Or, Proof That 2013 is an Unlucky Year
No, not because I have been taking these. I wish I could take these. I. Really. Do. So, instead of tweeting every few minutes that I'm still on the couch wishing I could leave my head somewhere until it stops hurting, I decided to rather stay away from social media for a few days.
At least I can see the dentist tomorrow... And I hope I don't have the song from Little Shop of Horrors stuck in my head. Again.

O, if only! But, at least, I have antibiotics and pain killers...

* This only includes my studies and creative writing, though...

Friday, October 11, 2013

Ageless Words Friday: The Battle of Maldon – with Lego!

I’ll admit I love stop-motion Lego films – especially those made by Brotherhood Workshop – so I was thrilled when I came across a short film about the Battle of Maldon made by DTGProductions, using the Anglo-Saxon poem and with Old English subtitles. If you haven’t visited Unlocked Wordhoard (theblog of Dr. Richard Scott Nokes) do so immediately after watching the film.

Without further ado, please enjoy The Battle of Maldon. For my other post relating to this battle; click on the links below the video.






“Hige sceal þe heardra, heorte þe cenre, mod sceal þe mare, þe ure mægen lytlað.” 

Wednesday, October 9, 2013

Worldbuilding Wednesday - Scripts and Legends

After years of wondering how to make my own fonts (but never really getting around to it) I at last put in some time and found "MyScriptFont" - and it worked! Today I am as giddy as can be and am proud to give the first glimpse of how a text would look written in the Midland Alphabet (also the one which most of the Keepers use). It still needs a bit of work, but below is the Legend of the Tellerassar's Cry in the script. (Below the picture is the legend. It can also be read over here, with some of the other legends over here and here.)

Epic nerdy goodness!



Why the Tellerassar’s Cry is so Mournful

It all happened on the day on which Ikaira, fleeing the Kingdom of Guldargan with his people, was trapped in a gorge near the Great River, which flows across the breadth of the Midlands of Airthai. A clear river flowed from crevices at the far end of the gorge, the water cutting deep into the light coloured rock as it rushed towards the Great River. Ikaira realized that there was no way for his followers to escape and that they would all surely perish at the hand of King Markus’ soldiers who were by this time driven mad with bloodlust for their hunted quarry. He called out to the Creator, begging him to save his people from Markus’ wrath.

They watched with horror as the soldiers approached, and some of Ikaira’s followers tried to climb up the steep sides of the gorge, but all slid on smooth boulders or loose rocks and fell to the bottom with horrible cries. Again Ikaira prayed and begged, joined by his people, for they saw their deaths approach.

Even as they pushed the women and children to the back of the group a mist began to form around them. The strange mist rose from the deep waters, becoming thicker and thicker as it rose until the group was hidden from sight. Each of Ikaira’s followers felt a strangeness overcome them as their bodies changed and moulded to the forms of eagles.  

Ikaira and his followers beat their wings and soared into the sky. But the archers among the soldiers of Markus nocked their barbed arrows and shot a volley towards the mist and, when the eagles rose above the mist, another volley was ordered.

Only six of Ikaira’s followers were hit, but among them was Alaila – the young woman Ikaira dearly loved and to whom he was engaged. With a shriek she fell from the sky, turning back into her human form. Ikaira saw her blue-clothed form disappear into the fog above the river.
Driven back from the river by the soldier’s arrows, Ikaira’s followers headed north at the command of his call – the language that they all could now understand. But Ikaira stayed behind, landing on a tree on the edge of the cliff, his heart broken in countless pieces and unable to understand why he had been saved and Alaila had not. When his breast could contain the grief no longer, he threw his head back and shouted her name to the heavens even as his voice was wrecked with sobs. This mournful call became the cry of all Tellerassar.

And to this day the Tellerassar’s cry as it flies above rivers and lakes haunts all those who hear it. It is even said by some that Ikaira still lives on in a ghostly form, always returning to the gorge and the river where Alaila perished, still seeker his love. Only when he at last finds her would his soul finally be at rest.