Red of roses

Rulie, one of the cranes in Praevalidus, sat herself down at her desk. She sighed from tiredness, and pushed her black hair back, which, usually, gently graced the tops of her shoulders. Her crane’s robes cuddled her body, keeping her cosy in the cool evening.
She’d been out in the wilderness all day, collecting oils and sap and water from various flowers on the edge of the Lyntherian Forests.
Cranes often made their own ointments and medicines from the local wilderness. Luckily, for Rulie and the other cranes in Praevalidus, the Lyntherian Forests provided ample amounts of plants used for medicine.
Rulie had picked all she needed to create large amounts of medicine, particularly red of roses, an ointment mixed with oils from the reddest and prickliest of roses and sap from oak trees. Used as an antiseptic and painkiller for deadly viruses and external wounds.
Rulie remembered the time she first mixed a red of roses ointment. Back when she was a child, during a plague of Waters’ Kiss, she ran to the fields outside Smoking Mouth, and found the most vibrant plant, and used its oil to help her sickened brother.

‘A Game of Thrones’ – does what it says on the tin. ‘It’s like an elaborate model, every thing has a place, and all those things create a masterpiece. ‘

I know that many people have posted reviews about this fantastic high-fantasy novel. I don’t need to give a little synopsis about what the book is about, we all know. What I’m going to talk about is the style of writing.

I’ve mostly read books where the narrator is telling the story, rather from the perspective of the characters. The meticulous style of writing ensures that you have a vivid view of what is happening in the scene, and what the character is thinking at the time. You really understand the beliefs and values of the characters, and how they feel at the time, what their thoughts are.

In most books, you get a simple, ‘he/she was sad about such and such’, whereas, in ‘A Game of Thrones’, it’s nothing like that. It’s more, ‘she/he couldn’t stop thinking about such and such, but there was so much going on around him/her, that she/he couldn’t stop and think about…’. It’s this style of writing that really gets me going and motivated to write my book, and that’s  sometimes, all you need to punch through a writer’s block.

The story and world puts my writing into context. Everything, from medicine to the names of castles, to places in Westeros and the beliefs of the people, is so well thought out, it’s like an elaborate model, every thing has a place, and all those things create a masterpiece.

I’m really looking forward to get stuck into the next one, even though I know what happens, reading ‘Game of Thrones’ puts everything into a completely new perspective, a more meaningful one!


The next review will be a book that’s something that, most likely, non of you will have ever heard of or read. It is a book that will change the way we see things in society and mankind, and will probably change your life…forever.

Foods in the woods

‘Take a bite, I promise you won’t die.’ The woman said, growing tired of the persuasion.
‘But it looks so strange, I’ve never seen fruit like this before.’ Replied the man, somewhat sceptical about eating something that didn’t look edible.
‘Hells’ Fire, Josyph! Just take a bite out of the fruit, and see what you make of it! I’ve been eating them all my life, and look how I turned out!’ The woman said, sternly.
Taking the time to glance at the woman, she did in-fact look the part. She was in her mid-forties, or so she claimed to be, although he couldn’t question it, even if he tried. The man wondered how he ended up in this situation in the first place. Initially, he had been chasing a deer across the lands, which then went into the woods. After many hours of pursuing the deer, he gave up, but didn’t realise where he was. That’s when she appeared, out of no-where, holding, what she claimed, was a piece of fruit. ‘I’m still not sure. I’ve only met you, and you already know more about me than some of my friends.’
‘Josyph, I’ve known you for a long time, don’t you remember? We used to play together when we were younger.’
He tried to remember his childhood. Thinking back, he did remember someone he used to play with, but she was older than him, far older, and someone who looked like they didn’t come from the same area. She was wearing tight, purple and red robes, which came down to her thighs, and black, boiled leather trousers and sturdy black boots. On her wrist were a collection of rings that she had acquired over her life.
‘Come on now, you’re hungry, and this’ll do you good.’ She assured.
‘All right then.’
Josyph took a bite, and a few moments later, his vision started to change. His surroundings became wavey and liquidised, until eventually, he collapsed on the floor laughing.
The woman looked at him with an evil smile. ‘The simple ones always fool for it.’ She  remarked, and started carrying him away.

A special Daily Prompt from the next book, ‘Arrows of Fire’.

Moxie – Daily Prompt. Excerpt from ‘A Monarch’s Gamble’

The two investigators made their way into the Record Keep and Library, the silence and composure hitting them like a hammer. The jog turned into a quiet, fast paced walk to Rela’s office. Palt didn’t care about formality and politeness at this point, so instead of knocking, burst into her office. Asheran, slightly stunned, looked around at the Keep before entering.
Rela jumped out of her skin, her focus and tranquillity brutally interrupted, ‘General Palt, do you have any etiquette or basic manners?!’ she said curtly, standing up behind her desk, clenched fists on resting on the blueprints she was drawing, ‘do you want your armies to sink? Because I can make that happen you know! Doesn’t take much to draw a hole on a blueprint!’ she exclaimed, holding up her work.

Cavalcades in the plains

The plains of Integer stretched out before her. She had never in her life seen such a vast landscape, filled with nothing but grass and cascading hills that filled the infinity of nothingness. Her party hadn’t long been travelling. They had left the capital, Integer, to pursue a life of peace in the Free Lands, far to the east. Virtus, the city of strength, and where the esteemed Virtus soldiers were trained, was out of the question. The peaceful city of Crimeare was most likely where they’d go, although, she wished to travel to the lands of Mathyres. Her family had said no, stating it was too far away from civilisation.
She didn’t understand their logic, why leave the capital to find a peaceful life, only to travel to another city over one-hundred miles away? She kept quiet, knowing that her parents knew best. There was a long journey, and many miles to cover still, but she would endure the bumbling along the Caphile lands on her little horse.

The world around us

‘It isn’t right that we should be burying him at this age. No, it’s not right, nothing is right in this world anymore,’ the farmer said, bitterly. He looked down at the dirty mound that enclosed his son, a boy of so much promise, only to be brutally murdered by the very people that were to govern Pravum.
‘There was nothing you could have done. They would have killed both of you, and where would that have left us?’ His wife said. She tried to be strong, but failed to hold back the tears that filled her eyes.
‘He should have lived. He shouldn’t be in this position. I will never forgive those that murdered him. I will never support the king.’
‘What shall we do now, papa?’ The farmer’s daughter asked. Too innocent to contribute to the disparagement.
The farmer looked away to the distance. ‘They want us to farm for them, but we won’t. Pack your things, we’re going to the Southern Reaches. We’ll be safe there.’

Some alternative posts

Some of you may have realised that I’m publishing a lot of unrelated, but related, posts called, ‘Daily Prompts’. If some of you haven’t heard of this, click this link and check it out, as it’s a good way to get motivated online and to create a world by using a one word prompt. I’ve been doing this for the past couple of weeks lately, and it’s very enjoyable, writing something that is indirectly related to the book and series, but isn’t necessarily included. I urge you to go and have a look, and have a go!

Secondly, some of you may have noticed the new look on the blog. I thought, while I was scrolling through, that the website needed a bit of an update, and to look a bit more professional and ‘Right of Legions’ looking. So, yes, I have changed it, along with redoing the logo (have a look at the old one and see if there’s a difference…there is, for one, it’s bigger).

Another, today I posted a prompt but accidentally put up a featured image that I hadn’t introduced. For those wondering, the featured image is the banner for the ‘Fermata Legion’ and ‘Praevalidus’. The dragon, shield, and sword are surrounded by salix branches and leaves, if you were wondering. I won’t say why, as the reasoning is in the book.

Lastly, I was looking through some old photos (literally, just now) and while having a gander (Somerset term) at my photos of my trip to China and Mongolia (yep, went there in 2011), I instinctively knew that the Intergerian landscape was subconsciously created as a result of trekking through Mongolia. Specifically, the Khangai Nuruu national park.

Interesting how that worked, editor didn’t think Integer would look like Mongolia.

The frustration of training

It was a hot day in the Imperium. The trainee Guards were hard at work, all using steel swords, rather than the soft wooden ones that were used by children. Within the walls of the tower, was the clashing of metal, and the shouting of recruits. Cursing at their incompetence, shouting at their opponents, spurring themselves on to be a better fighter. Around two-hundred men and women were at their final stage of training, learning the ability to fight off five enemies at a time, while simultaneously be scrutinised by the officers of the Guards’ Tower, who had long graduated from the Imperium.
Withal Smyth, Captain of the Guard, gritted his teeth at what he was watching. The trainees had been taught to fight against one, two, and three opponents at once. All of his recruits impressing him, did what he told them. But this wasn’t what he instructed. Fighting was like dancing, he told them. It’s methodical, it’s controlled, and when executed properly, is beautiful. So why weren’t they fighting like dancers, he thought. It wasn’t methodical, it wasn’t swift, it was clunky, careless, and obvious. A fighter’s enemy should be unsuspecting, slight, swift, quick, and effective. These trainees were none of that.

The prancers

In the perpetual lands of Integer, the casta stallions, a breed of horse only found in the Casta lands of Integer, ran and played with each other in the abyss of open land. A local farmer, adjusted his eyes to the morning light, only to see the beauty that was the onset of spring, and the beginning of the mating season for the castas. The look of a casta was almost the complete opposite of a val, with large, rugged and muscular legs, and a very fine, silky light brown coat, topped with a thick dark brown mane, softer than the silks of Crimeare and as strong as the cobwebs made by the spiders in the Deep Woods. The castas pranced and capered on the hill steppe in the crisp, chilled air. Their heads swayed from side to side, sending a perfect waves through their manes, attracting a mate. The castas with the most perfect and elegant manes were the ones who succeeded. A sight to behold for any wandering traveller, thought  the farmer.