Post-publication: Spellscribed Conviction Impressions

So Spellscribed Conviction had received more... animated responses than I had been anticipating.

That being an understatement to some people, a few readers expressed their distaste over the way the book came to a conclusion. Now to reduce spoilers I will not be talking about the specific events that happened, but I will talk about it in general.

I feel that while some people vehemently opposed the way the book ended, things happened the way I wanted to make them happen. But, that's not to say that my plans are perfect nor that I am infallible. However, I don't regret the way I did it. It got Endrance where he needed to be to do the most help for the most people.

I think I have to keep reminding myself that I'm still a new author to the publishing world. I've only put out 5 books, three of them full length novels. I will make mistakes, but that means I have more to learn and room to improve.

I think... from what this book has taught me... is that Time-Skips are not liked.

I can understand. After all, the readers want to know what happened during that period of time and I left a lot to the imagination. Though to be fair I have reasons.

I feel that what happened in those moments were stories about characters that were worthy enough to warrant more time and page space than I could fit into Conviction which is more Endrance-centric. Using the Spellscribed Tales books, I can take side or secondary characters in Spellscribed and make them the protagonist of their own stories.

The next Spellscribed Tales book will contain two more stories from during Conviction. I hope that Second Refrain sheds some light on sections people were hoping to see more of.

And most of all, thank you for your support and patience with me as I grow as an author.

Spellscribed Provenance : Revised Edition!

Hello everyone!

So the one thing that most people said detracted from my first book... was the deeply seeded grammar errors and occasional crazy sentence structure. I was baffled that it was such a problem but overall pleased that the book turned out so well regardless.

However, I've had the book overhauled. It was gone over, looked at, and re-edited.

I... I actually have a confession to make. During the initial setup of Provenance, there had been a mix up with the files and I ended up uploading the wrong copy of the manuscript. For nearly two years I've had the unedited version on Amazon. I am so embarrassed that I have hired excavation equipment to dig a hole deep enough to crawl into that only dwarves would be able to find me.

However, I made sure to upload the newly redone and re-edited format of the manuscript. It should be live in a day, and I've already alerted Amazon and they should allow anyone who has already purchased my manuscript to re-download the updated one.

I'm so terribly sorry for this. I'm going to go hide for the few weeks until Conviction comes out.

~Kristopher Cruz

Spellscribed Conviction is available to Pre-Order!

Hello everyone!

I am most pleased to announce that Spellscribed: Conviction is now available for Pre-Order! The book will be on the digital shelved December 8th!

I would like to ask that you tell your friends, family, and any fans of the series that you know! Word of mouth has been the most effective means of getting this series out there and I am thankful for everyone you have told about my books!

I know this has been a long time coming, so without further ado:
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00OUTZ2V4

Book 3 Announcement Part 2!

After some unexpected delays and getting wrapped up in finishing the book, I completely forgot to put up the new cover here. I'm sorry; my bad. (This is why I need a publicist.)
Here's the new cover for Spellscribed Conviction!

Additionally, the book preorders will be opening up November 1st, for a early December release date!

Book 3 Announcements!

Hello everyone!

Been a while, I know. I've been busy with work and moving and my grandmother falling ill and, well, it seems like pretty much everything that can go wrong, has. Thanks Murphy.

However, thanks for your patience! The next book of the Spellscribed series is called SPELLSCRIBED: CONVICTION and will be hitting the digital bookshelves before December! I'm sorry this took longer than expected, but it will be done when it's good and ready, and not a moment sooner! Tune in this weekend for a sneak peak at the snazzy new cover art for CONVICTION!

(Pre Orders will be available about a month before it goes on sale)

MOON FALL - CHAPTER ONE

 

"Hey Crowe, did you hear?" Glass-eyed Gary said to me, winking his one good eye. He was just loud enough to be heard over the one man band playing in the corner. "They say the Nightstalker's returned. Just hit a dirigible just off the coast of the Carolinas."

I hesitated, shot glass halfway to my lips. The clear liquid within sloshed silently against the sides before I finish the motion, downing the drink before setting the glass on the bar counter top. Cool and quick, the water is only as refreshing as if I had splashed it on my face. I turned and looked Gary's way.
"I apologize." I began. "What did you say?"
The saloon was one of the cleanest establishments in Newsome City. Finely polished, the hardwood bore hours and hours of hand tooled vines and leaves in every available surface and filled in with transparent wax. The wood had a warm feeling to it that was improved by the cheery red velvety colors of the seat cushions and draperies. The expert sounds of the band's brass instruments was peppy and cheerful.
It clashed miserably with my sudden sense of confusion.
Glass-eyed Gary shuffled onto the stool next to me. The man was a portly sort, sallow faced but never somber. Ever since the airship accident that cost him his eye, he developed an exuberant energy far greater than one would think could be attained by someone maimed in such a manner.
One of the local sawbones had fixed him up excellently, but his eye was already a distant memory. Instead, Gary had a monocle mounted on an eye patch he wears over his ruined eye. The thing is his namesake, and he, as usual, was in high spirits. His suit jacket hung on the rack alongside mine, and his purple trim vest and white shirt looked clean and crisply pressed. He was a clean dressed, finely scented member of Newsome City's society.
"I said." Gary told me. "That the Nightstalker has returned!"
Well that's impossible. I sighed. "So tell me," I shot back at him. "Where did you hear that?"
Gary smiled at me, adjusting his monocle. "I thought you'd never ask!" He declared.
"My cousin Franco working the skydocks was expecting a shipment from one of the trade dirigibles that come in every month." Gary starts. "But it never came in. So three days later Franco gets the city to dispatch a cutter to see if we can render assistance, help tow them into town, what not."
I nod, gesturing to the barkeep for another drink. The mustached man nods, setting down the glass he was polishing to pour me another shot of filtered water. He slides it down the bar, and I catch it carefully. I set another nickel on the table and turn my attention back to Gary.
"So they set out." Gary continued, as if I had been paying attention the whole time. "And lo, they find most of the ship's wreckage scattered all over three square miles of ocean!"
I toss back the water and set the glass down. "Did they try to set down?" I asked. "Dangerous to try it out over the Atlantic."
Gary waved to the bartender. "I'll have something with a little more kick, please." he said, placing a quarter on the bar. Luis dug under the bar and pulled out a thick dark glass bottle. He poured some into a short glass and set it onto the counter. Luis pocketed the quarter while Gary took a sip of the drink.
"Ah..." he said. "This was your what, 14?"
"1812." Luis replied, putting the bottle away. "Hard to find these days."
"Hard to find any liquor of this quality before the fall." Gary replied.
I lean back. "I've got to be going, mate." I mutter. Gary grabbed my arm before I could fully hop off the stool.
"Wait." he says. The humor fading from his face. "They didn't break up trying to put her down in the ocean, and they hadn't been hit by a moonfall. From the wreckage they found a single survivor."
I pull myself back into my seat. "A survivor?" I ask.
Gary nods. "A survivor. She was delirious from being afloat in the water for nearly two days by the time Franco got to her."
"Did she survive?" I ask. "What did she say?"
Gary shrugged. "Franco said she muttered something about sails as black as deepest night, and silent as the grave. Then she was too out of it to speak any further. She's at the Sawbone's right now sleeping it off."
I frown. The Sawbones, whose name was Victor, was a competent chirurgeon and field doctor. In a trade town like Newsome, zeppelin sailors almost always came into port with some injury or another in need of treatment. Occasionally there'd be a mishap at the dock, like what happened to Gary. She'd be in good hands.
"Silent as the grave." I mutter.
"Quiet your voice!" Mister Sluice whispered harshly. "Ya'll remember your part?"
I nod my head alongside five other men and women. Dressed in black cloth, tightly fit leather packs and flirearms at our hips. We each clutch a skyhook in our hands, the silver sheen dulled with rubbed on soot.
"Good." Sluice whispers. The creak of the sails is the only sound heard over the sound of the wind slipping past our hull. He leans over the side, glancing down. He turns back to us. "They'll be under us in ten seconds. Go!"
We jump.
I look up at Gary. "Was the goods missing?"
Gary nods. "Hundreds of pounds of foodstock, gone. Three cannons and twelve defenders."
I shook my head. "There had to be something more valuable than that. The Nightstalker never hit a ship just for food."
Gary grimaces. "Well, chap." He replies. "I haven't heard from the investigator or anything, but Franco was waiting to get a shipment of ground Lunarite from New York. It was, of course, missing too."
I plunge through the sky, the wind whistling in my ears. Below us, an airship continues her nighttime voyage, unaware of our rapid descent. I sling the skyhook, holding the release button as I do. The hooked silver head shoots out on a thin metal cable, biting into the wooden mizzenmast of the ship. I fall past the first row of sails, the skyhook snapping taut when I let go of the button. I arc through the air in a somersault, landing silently on the deck. I do a quick headcount. We had all landed on the deck of the ship. A quick flick of the wrist and our skyhooks retract effortlessly.
I look Gary in his good eye, and speak evenly. "How much?" I ask.
Gary shakes his head. "I don't know for sure." he starts.
"Gary." I interrupt. "How much."
"At least twenty pounds." he admits. "I can't be sure exactly how much, but Franco was looking to get it for Dr. Buck over in the Newsome outer limits. You could ask him if you're feeling brave."
Dr. Buck... He's one of those scientist-types who have more brains than common sense. His experiments tend to work, and several have been sold for a high price to protect the city. However... some of his more spectacular failures have left both doctors and the fire brigade quite busy on occasion.
The four men on watch that night didn't see us land near the rear of the vessel. We advanced, and four of us slink closer to the watchmen while one covered the doors leading belowdecks. Above was the pilot, and my job. I carefully creep up the steps to the Forecastle, pulling back the hammer of my flirearm. I get in position, and see the pilot tending the ship's wheels and gauges.
"Now!" I exclaim, loud enough to be heard by the others.
We stand as one. The pilot turns when he hears my voice. Shock registers on his face.
I try to blink away the memories. "No, I'll talk to him only if I have to." I try to sound confident, but I'm starting to wish I had ordered some alcohol instead of water.
"Just be careful if you plan on setting out to any ruins, all right?" Gary says with a wink, his humor quickly returning. "I don't want to see my favorite scavenger get kidnapped by pirates."
I stand, and walk to the coat rack. My coat is a bit threadworn compared to Gary, but I don't really make a lot of money scrounging; just enough to get by.
"Sure thing." I say, slipping the coat on over my vest. The familiar weight of the derringer in my right pocket settles comfortably at my side.
"I tell you, the Nightstalker is back. I guarantee it." Gary says before turning his attention to his old world scotch.
I turn, pop my hat off the hook over my coat and settle it on my head.
The pilot's shock only increases as I pull the trigger, hitting him in square in the chest. The puff of smoke was precluded by the sharp whistle of lunarite powder igniting. The pilot fell to the deck, dead or dying. I slip forward and pull the levers to all ahead stop, cutting off the propellers.
I look up as my ship, the Nightstalker, swept in on silent sails outspread like a kite's wings. Captain Montresser would be pleased.
I look over the saloon one more time before slipping out into the dark of the night. "I hope that it isn't." I whisper to myself. "Because the Nighstalker is dead."
I set off at a slow pace down the stairs, the damp misty air caressing my cheeks and ears as I walk. The steps down from the fourteenth floor were dimly lit. The saloon, named Rudyard's, was one of the few establishments at the top of the city.
The light from the burning gas lamps set at every intersection provided dim ambient light in an otherwise dark city. Built like a fort, the outer walls were two foot thick solid stone, reinforced with iron bands and gaslamp spotlights to look out for threats. The city streets were orderly, neat grids of cobblestones that were neatly split down the center with half foot wide sewer grates.
The telltale 'click click tang!' of a street sweeper reaches my ears right as I'm about to take the final step off the stairs, so I pause. I hold the brim of my hat so the bowler wouldn't fly off when it passed.
The street sweeper, driven by one of the cleaners, was a strange mechanical beast. Made of brass and iron, the metal monstrosity was designed to look like a water strider, with four dinner plate sized wheels on the end of mechanical limbs. It's belly was split down the middle, and either side had two larger brush wheels that scrubbed the street. They were aligned so that they pushed any debris into the center sewage drain. The tail of the thing stuck down, and stuck into the sewer grate directly below it. The 'click click tang' was the sound of the tail dragging along each segment of grate, spraying water.
The pilot rode on top, guiding it with a set of four switch-handled levers that looked more complicated than would be necessary. That seat was at the very front, the open air 'head'. Behind the seat was a large brass tank of water sitting over the steam engine powering it, with the tail coming out the far back end. The main body was eight feet above the streets, the brushwheels being quite large in size.
The cleaner tipped his hat at me as he motored on by, his goggles spattered with grime. The steam engine puffed and hissed, audible at close range. It moved at the speed of a man jogging, so it must have been burning ordinary coal.
Belowdecks, the six of us are the first to start the search through the hold. We tear through several trunks before we found the chest. An iron strongbox, it weighs nearly two-hundred pounds. Verner and Lucy were the strongest of us, so they carry it up out of the hold. Around us the other members of our crew dug through the pockets of the dead for valuables, gleaned the discards we left behind for anything of worth. Looting wasn't our responsibility; we were there on a mission.
I watch Lucy and Verner set the trunk down in front of Mister Sluice. The man stooped and ran his hand over the metal.
"Open it." he commands, stepping back.
I start to step forward, but Verner reached down and started picking the lock. He quickly had it off, and threw open the lid.
The strongbox had four bars of gold in it, each weighing over forty pounds. But the center of the box was full of chalky white pebbles. In the starlight they look almost opalescent.
I step out into the street now that the vehicle had passed. Ordinarily the street sweepers try to avoid running over civilians, but accidents have happened. Usually getting hit by the brush-wheels was only messy and embarrassing. The road clear, I set off north towards my apartment.
I spent the last two years prospecting for Newsome City, but I've never really gotten any large claims. Many of the obvious ones are too dangerous to go to without a heavily armed escort, and the really big sites in the cities are sheer suicide to land anywhere near. Even the air is toxic and I've been told that some of the cities are still burning.
I manage to get to my apartment without meeting another soul, which was already a bit suspicious to me. I don't expect company in the late night, but there's enough homeless and destitute that I expected to run into someone along the way.
I climb the steps to my apartment, and the hairs on the back of my neck start to stand up. Instinctively I shove my hand into my coat pocket. The cold steel of the derringer sticks to my sweating palm as I climb the next step, anticipating violence.
Maybe I'm just paranoid.
I reach the landing for the third floor, and find that someone had turned the gas lamp down, snuffing it out. Before stepping onto the landing, I do something most wouldn't; I close my eyes, hold my breath and listen. It was something I learned to do a long time ago, and it has already saved my life several times.
Mr. Sluice plucked up one of the pebbles, looking it over. His expression slowly changing from one of concentration to a scowl.
"Ballocks!" Sluice exclaimed, dropping the pebble back into the pile. "Our informant was wrong. That's lunarite, but it's only half the purity we were told!"
A strong, clear woman's voice shouts over the sound of both ships steam engines. The captain.
"We've been set up, boys!" she cried, standing on the forecastle of The Nightstalker. "Disengage and prepare for combat!"
I look up from the chest to see three New American ships closing in on us, their decks alight with men prepping cannons. One of them fires a volley, cannonshot blasting into the ship we had just captured. Two men were sent screaming off the side, while the rest of us scramble to get what we had in our hands aboard the Nightstalker.
Another volley of cannonshot barely missed our vessel as Captain Montresser spun the wheel, jerking us out of the way of most of it. One cannonshot grazed the deck only a yard from me, sending splinters into my shins but otherwise leaving me intact.
"They mean to board us!" Mr. Sluice cried out, pointing. Each of the three ships had at least a dozen soldiers on deck, sabers drawn and firearms in hand.
"They will try!" Captain Montresser replied. "Prepare for boarders!"
I raise my skyhook. It was time to fight.
I caught the sound of someone taking a breath and holding it right after mine, and another breathing quiet and shallow a few paces closer to me. I didn't hear more than the two. I dig my free hand into a belt pouch and withdrew a packet of flashpowder. I let out my held breath and step off the stairs.
I sense, more than hear the whistle of something coming for my head. I duck frantically, and something cleanly takes my hat off my head and hits the iron newel post, causing a dull Clang to ring through the night. The bastard killed my hat with a lead pipe!
I lurch forward, ramming my shoulder into the man's gut, knocking him back. Whoever he was, his gut was densely packed muscle. Couldn't be a scavenger or petty thief, probably ex-
military or pro enforcer.
I throw my packet of flash powder at the wall next to us as I squeeze my eyes shut. The rough iron pellet in the packet grinds with the gunpowder and phosphorus, exploding with a dull pop and a bright flash of light that I could see through my eyelids. Since I was prepared, I am able to act while they recover.
The guy next to me grunts, and the pipe clips my shoulder as I try to stand, pain radiating dully from where it tapped me. I duck again, but instead of ramming him I wrap my arms around his calf and heave, standing as I grunt with effort.
The man was thrown off balance, and with my help, went right over the balcony. A scream burst out for a brief moment before the Crunk of a body hitting cobblestones interrupted it. It was only the third floor, there was a good chance he'd survive.
...Did I mention I don't fight fair?
I turn to the other and point the derringer. "Don't move." I growl, clicking the hammer into place. The other person's breathing stopped.
"You're going to tell me who sent you, and then you're going to walk out of here unharmed." I declare, reaching out for the gaslight valve. The valve turns, clicking a flint built into the mechanism and igniting the lamp. Light flooded the third floor landing.
Beatrice Landau stood over the unconscious body of the second enforcer, a needle sticking from his neck. She pulled the steel needle out, wiped it down with a silk handkerchief, and slid it into the leather pocket designed to hold two dozen needles in their own little steel capped sleeves. She clicked the clasp of the pocket closed and smiled at me.
"It seems that I had some competition for your attention." she said demurely.
I roll my eyes. I've heard about her and seen her on occasion, though usually not personally. She was an acrobat by day and professional entrepreneur by night... I basically labeled her a cat burglar.
She was wearing a long skirt, knee high aviator's boots, and a black short sleeve blouse with gold thread trim. She had finger-less brown leather gloves that matched her boots and her raven black hair was done up in a bun held in place with ivory sticks she must have gotten at great expense. Her face was plain, though she was in excellent condition from her time as an acrobat.
"It seems I'm popular tonight." I mutter.
I don't lower the gun. She glances at the derringer's barrel and then back to me. "I'm glad you didn't shoot in the dark, you might have hit me."
"I still might." I admit, wavering the tiny gun on purpose. "These derringers are made with hair triggers. Any sudden moves and it might go off."
Her eyes widened. "You'd shoot little old me?"
I shrug with the shoulder of my free hand. "Well, you didn't tell me who sent you. I can't guarantee you'll walk out unharmed. I have to be a man of my word."
Beatrice raises an eyebrow and frowns at me. "I didn't know a Sky Pirate could be a man of his word. You must have truly turned over a new leaf."
I almost shoot her that instant.
"You're mistaken." I growl. "I'm Isaac Crowe. I'm a prospector from-"
"Please, let's drop the facade." she interrupts me. "And put the gun down."
"No."
She sighs. "Not going to make this easy, are you?" she asks.
"Nope."
"Fine." she huffs. I almost miss the strange twist of her wrist.
I lurch back, trying to pull the trigger on the derringer. Something shiny flits through the air at me and I feel a sting in my hand in almost the same instant. The gun doesn't fire.
What on earth? My hand goes numb, but it doesn't go loose. The firearm is still clutched in it and quickly the numb feeling spreads up my forearm to my elbow.
It's a strange sensation, like I had fallen asleep on my arm.
"Do you like that?" Miss Landau asks, "I think I did manage to hit a nerve."
"What did you do?" I ask.
She smiles at me and waves a hand like it's nothing. "Oh, just a little Chinese secret I learned from a family of railroad workers a few years back." she replies. "Their medicine is quite intermixed with their mysticism. Why, did you know that I could have hit a nerve in your arm and stopped your heart?"
I try to make my hand move. Nothing. The needle protrudes from just above my wrist. I grab the tip that sticks out. She shouldn't have given me the time-
"Oh I wouldn't do that." she replied. "That nerve that stops your heart... well it's right next to the one that can paralyze your arm. You might hit it if you pull it out wrong."
I let my arm drop with a sigh, the needle still protruding. I had no way of knowing if she was lying. She seemed sincere.
"So," I mutter. "What do you want?"
She smiled at me again. "Tea would be a fabulous start. Then we can talk about a business proposition I have for you that could make you rich."

Do you wanna...

Read a story?

I've been writing some for a second series I'm working on. It's a bit unique, a Post-Apocalyptic Steampunk book called MOONFALL.

That's right. Steampunk. After the apocalypse. It'll be great.

I'm sure that many of my readers would love to hear that I spend every waking second of my life writing the next book for Spellscribed. And I am working on it. MOONFALL is a second project of mine that's started making some progress.

I was thinking, if people wanted, I could post a bit of it on my blog.

Please comment below and let me know. I won't post it if I don't hear enough clamour. :p

Pact Infernal - A Summary of Demonology

Though Elementalism and Demonology are similar arts on the surface, calling an elemental is a whole different thing from summoning demons. While an elemental is called up of the existing animating force present since the creation of the world, demons are called from somewhere beyond the reach of the world.

Demonology is referred to as a 'quick and dirty' path to power. Books on demons exist, including everything from formula for spells to protect against a demon you've summoned to diagrams detailing the anatomy and abilities of demons. The information circulates magical communities, whether human or elven, and provides a quick way to come into power, should you simply have the will to make it happen.

How, you may ask, did these tomes of knowledge come into being in the first place? It's a simple answer: The demons gave the knowledge to mortals so they could be summoned.

Demons, through all their alien thoughts and reasoning, are inherently drawn to mortals to interact with. Though it may not make sense to scholars, demons are not mortal and yet represent amplified personages of mortal minds.

The most easily notable are the seven excesses. Because they represent an emotion felt/experienced by millions of mortals, those demons are some of the strongest existant. Other demons fill categories of mortal feelings, including several breeds that fell within Misery or Fear. 

To demons, mortals were a source of sustenance and power. To most, their sustenance came not in flesh and bone, but power drawn from mortals experiencing the thing they exemplified. For lust, the Succubi gained sustenance when a mortal was sexually aroused, even more so when brought to complete sexual abandon. Wrath had been known to possess their victims, amplifying their vessel's rage to supernatural levels and feeding on what came after. Demons of pride whispered secrets into the ears of those in charge of others as they slept, subtly guiding their plans.

While there were of course other demons who literally treated mortals as food, many of them desired something different from them. If possible, demons would reside in the world permanently. And so they seeded the books of their knowledge into the world.

Demon summoners become familiar with a concept known as 'The Barrier'. It is a defense that prevents demons from coming through the world except in places where the geomantic energies align closely with the geomancy of the demon realm, which gives powerful enough demons the chance to get something through. Otherwise, the barrier acts more like a membrane instead of a wall. it is pliable yet unyielding, and even the greatest of efforts can only temporarily enter the world. Demons entering the world found the elasticity of the barrier would snap them back moments after arriving.

This barrier is the reason why summoning is so structured. Without the barrier, demons would have invaded and overrun the world long ago. The only way a demon could remain on the world is if someone on that side held out a metaphorical hand to hold onto. This is the function that a summoning circle performs; it is a hook that holds the rubber band in place so it doesn't snap back.

The anchoring is worked by the summoning spell, but is contingent upon the balance of wills between the summoner and the demon. The one who wins such a battle gains control of the anchor and can banish the other (or themself) back to their home realm at will. This is why demons will fight the summoner's will; few creatures would give up the chance to remain in the world without repurcussion.

Summoning knowledge is taboo among the magical community; not strictly legal, but extensive practice is frowned upon, as it is also extremely dangerous. That said, almost every mage's library contains copies of the infernal texts, despite the fact that many of the originals haven't even arrived in the world yet, since time flows differently in that side.

Even a novice can follow the directions in an infernal manual and summon the weakest of demons. This 'slave' type of demon acts as a tutor and servant, teaching the summoner more about the demonic arts and showing time and time again how 'handy' demons can be, helping the summoner to both learn how to summon more powerful demons as well as grow dependent on their powers.

Though this entry has discussed only demons, there are a few things that can be reasoned from the information gleaned. First, the demons need the power they gain from interacting with humans. Second, all understanding of existance indicates there is a balance. Life and death. Light and dark.

Is there an opposite to the demons?

Spellscribed Tales is out!

http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00KMDJNSA

 

I want to thank everyone for their patience! I do hope you all enjoy this book as much as I had writing it!

Get Caught Up!

In celebration of Spellscribed Tales: First Refrain's publication this week, I am going to give readers a chance to get caught up to the series!

 

From the 27th until the 30th, you can get Spellscribed Provenance and Spellscribed Ascension on sale for 2.99!

 

... That's... really all I had to say I guess.

 

READ ON!

Reaching Beyond, a guide to Elemental Calling Magic

The elements are everywhere. They compose everything that is the world.

Elementalism users, most commonly elves, discovered that among the elements that they manipulated were some form of 'vital' essence of the element. It seemed to reside in the purest form of the element that was being sampled, an essence that had a form of consciousness, but no ability to move or act of their own volition. Even more strangely, it was discovered that the consciousness split as easily as the material it inhabited did, becoming smaller, less aware, bits of the whole that could become one the moment they were reconnected.

Elven theory generated over thousands of years of research and religious development believes that when the first word was spoken and the world came into being, the will that brought the world into its form was broken up into the materials that constructed it. There they continued to reside, countless millennium later, dormant and waiting to be called to action again. It still left many questions unanswered.

An Elemental Calling connects the mage to that elemental essence, and provides the elemental essence with power. In doing so gives the consciousness the energy needed to animate the element it is inhabiting, bringing it to life. The power is expended at a constant rate, dependant only on the factors of the size of the consciousness and the purity of the substance that it inhabits. A small elemental the size of a cat could take a small investment of power and remain operable for weeks, while an elemental of the same purity but the size of a house could only operate for minutes at best on the same amount of power.

Different elementals have different purity concerns. Water, earth, and fire elementals are concerned of the purity of their base material, or the material being burned in the case of fire elementals. Air and life elementals have notably less purity dependant requirements to be used. The elements presence is usually all that's required, but each comes with their own limitations that separate them from the other three. Air is usually completely connected to the air around it, so there have been no elementalism users who have successfully conjured a full sized air elemental since it would require more power than could be easily concieved of. Life is difficuult in that it worries not about purity, but can only animate 'thoughtless' forms of life. Trees, grass, flowers, many plants and some simple life forms, but never a living thing capable of moving of their own volition. A living, moving creature is already possessed with a will and ability to move of its own. There have been fables of ancient life elementalists calling elementals of pure life energy, but this has never been confirmed.

Elementals are interesting beings of purpose. When conjured, they possess a will of their own, personalities can vary but invariably they are pliable to the instructions of the one who gave them form. They follow commands given absolutely, with no flexibility or creative license to adjust to changes in a situation. They do not comprehend nuanced orders and will take the most obvious, direct interpretation of said orders. If not able to understand them, the elemental instead does nothing. This has led to several small disasters or even deaths due to inexperienced Elementalists. Imagine if you will an earth elemental commanded "Don't let anyone into my tower". Since the mage said anyone, the elemental would also attempt to bar the mage's path should he return.

On this end there are members of Elven family trees who devote their Pursuits to designing commands to the specifications of the Elementalist's desires. Similar to human Lawyers, these elves figure out how to phrase a command to an elemental to do exactly what the Elementalist desires, including contingencies and response actions during certain situations. Many elves who dedicate their entire life to Elementalism start off spending a few decades in this Pursuit before practicing Elementalism so they can manage on their own.

Elementals form a serious part of Elven culture, though the Suo'hdi are far better suited to the process than their dark-adopting Sha'hdi. Even so, Sha'hdi use of elementalism far outstrips human use of the art. Humans have little of the research and understanding that the elves do on the subject, and most of what they do have is barely enough to enable an experienced mage to conjure a small elemental for a few days at best. Elves use elementals for their cleaning, sewage systems, regrowing forests damaged by wildfires, preserving food supplies, personal security and much more.

Elven Magic

The magic of the Elves is one much older and primal than the magic of the humans. While all magic seeks to attain the same ends (Completing the Spell form), how it is attained and what ends that are sought can vary greatly between sources.

Thousands of years ago the elves still lived in their homeland, a country that had no spoken name, but was understood as a concept by any elf no matter their age or disposition. The elves back then were more deeply connected to nature and the flows of magic than they are at present, taking on traits associated with different forms and elements of magic. Even more interesting was that they could only use elemental magic of the element they were aligned with at the time.

Their resonance was almost chaotic, changing many times over the course of an elf's lifetime. This meant that their forms were more mutable, more unstable. As time passed the elves found their magic tied deeply with the core concepts of the five elements: Air, Water, Life, Earth, and Fire. Light and Dark existed, but were outside the reach of the elves. So unstable were their connections to the elements that an elf experiencing a strong mood swing could trigger a change.

For millenia, things remained as they were. Their homeland existed in a shifting pattern of elemental chaos, until a pair of twins named Sha'hdi and Suo'hdi fought against the changing natures of the elves. They believed that their ephemeral existences were too much dependant on emotions and the elements too dangerous to let rule over their lives so fully. They sought something that none of the other elves had ever attained: to forge a connection between light and darkness, for all elements existed within those two concepts.

While the connection to the elements may seem trivial, it was greatly different from what the humans would eventualy learn to harness. Human magic harnesses the elements, but focused more on making an effect happen regardless of the elements involved, and some of their spells have no real elemental connection. Time magic and sensory magics have no associated elements. (Save for perhaps the element of time or space, if they could be measured)

When Suo'hdi and Sha'hdi managed to connect to Light and Darkness, They forever altered the course of hundreds of elves. Those who followed them on their quest similarly aligned with either the Light or the Darkness, loosing almost all but a tenuous connection to the primal elements.

An unexpected result of this realignment also changed their lives forever. Their land, the home of such elemental fluidity, became foreign to them. No longer did the concept of it's name remain in their minds as it rejected their presence. Driven away, the followers of Sha'hdi and Suo'hdi were ejected from their homelands.

It landed them on Salthimere. The land was strange to them, the soil foreign, the name didn't come to them for decades as they tried to find a way to live in a new land rife with dangers.

It was in Salthimere they discovered their method of spellcasting had changed to what the elves know of today.

Their connection to the primal elements were far weaker than before, but it afforded them a degree of flexibility. While they may have a preference for one element or another, no longer were they constrained to the element of their aligning. Not only did they have their now innate powers of Light and Darkness, the elves (referred to among their kind as the 'hdi) could also cast elemental magics of any element they desired.

For elves who are magical by nature, spellcasting differs in some ways but the fundamental purpose is the same: The completion of a spell form to make an effect happen. The elves' bodies were able to easily handle the power flowing through them; in fact it was a small part of their physical forms in the first place. As such, they stored their power for spellcasting in their bodies, not their aura. The body was a much more efficient storage medium, and had two other benefits that humans have never been able to understand. An aura used to store power could hold a large quantity of it, but had limitations. Power naturally recovered slowly in a person's aura, but faster in the body. The reason behind it was simple, the rate of recovery was the same for either, but the aura was not self-contained and 'seeped' power slowly. Some of the power recovered merely kept up with the amount lost. That is the first benefit of internal storage: Faster recovery.

The second benifit is a little more abstract. Continued storage of power within the body and awareness of the power's presence led elves to become extremely adept at manipulating power internally. The elves don't need to use hand gestures or words of power to utilize their spells, as they could make the spell forms entirely internally. While it requires no movements or words, they still need to concentrate and mentally process the spells, which requires time similar to the amount that humans need. This reliance on purely mental process means it can be more readily interrupted by stray thoughts or distractions.

For all the advantages of Elven spellcasting over Human casters, there are notably less dedicated Elven 'mages' than the Humans do. This is in part because of how natural magic comes to Elves, and how difficult it is to teach new magic to an elf who learns their spells intuitively. This means that while the average elf has much more magic than an average human, a human mage could grow in power much more quickly than an elf, since they have a tried and true method of educating themselves and their lessers into magic. Most elves just develop the magic talents that they feel inclined toward, with elder elves having more just because of the amount of time they've lived.

Mystic Symbology

[Originally my 'Rune magic' post. Expanded]

Mystic Symbology is a catch-all term applying to any form of written magic. Generally they come in three forms: Magic Script, Glyphs/Sigils, and Runes.

Magic Script is the easiest of the three to master. Simply learning to use the commonly accepted 'true' language allows a mage (any kind of practitioner of magic) to be able to read it. To any other, the language wriggles and squirms, never making any sense. This is in part due to the nature of the 'true' languages; It can only be learned by someone who had the knowledge passed down to them, not simply learned by observation. Fortunately, one did not need to be taught how to read the language to understand it. Simply learning how to speak the 'true' language allowed the reader to comprehend a magic script. This allowed the humans to learn Magic Script; The mercanian's servants had been taught their 'true' language to allow them to relay orders to the enslaved humans below them. When the masters vanished, the servants passed the language on to those who sought it.

While used typically in spellbooks, where mages diagram their varying magical research, it can also be used to refine and focus other Mystic Symbols when connected. More complex structures can be worked this way, but generally lack in power compared to more simple symbols.

Glyphs/Sigils are usually interchangeable terms to indicate a 'magic picture'. In their basest form, a glyph/sigil is a marking that creates a two-dimensional spell form. (It is possible to stretch a glyph over a three dimensional surface) These spell forms are the most direct method to enact a spell, and glyphs are like the many other methods but in written form. Fully powered spells may be placed on pages, walls, floors, windows, even on clothing if done properly, making them flexible sources of magic.

Runes are proof that there may be more than one 'true' language. Single letters, these runes are of a language that predated even the Mercanians. It is theorized that the runes are actually simple icons, similar to the common language's arrow symbols, or the 'x' marking a location on a map. This would explain why one need only learn the rune instead of the complete language in order to be able to use it on it's own.

Runes have very limited fields of use, but are incredibly powerful in those fields. A rune can be placed on any surface that is relatively unbroken. Runes can have one of the following three effects: They can affect an object it is placed on. They can affect anything in an area around where they're placed, and they can affect anyone who reads them. The last is an insidious, yet useful function as the reader need not comprehend the rune, merely looking at it is enough to activate its powers.

Inverted Runes are placed in their mirror-reversed form. making them perform the opposite of their normal effect. Only certain Runes are the same mirrored and are viewed in such a way. Perspective doesn't affect a rune; its nature is that the carving/setting creator was facing when made. (You cannot 'flip' over a rune on a piece of glass to make its nature change) This allows certain effects to be made possible to a clever enough mage.

There are only a few 'common' runes, and any other runes discovered/known are usually kept by the mages that discovered/researched them. Many have been willing to teach, especially in the academic hierarchical structure of the Ironsoul Circle of Magi. While the elven mages use runes, they're typically underplayed compared to their Elemental Magics.

Magic Script, Glyphs/Sigils, and Runes can be used collaboratively to great effect. The most commonly known form of this work is known by mages across the world: The magic circle. A properly worked magic circle uses runes, script, and glyphs together (The circle itself is part of the glyph component) to perform a compounded magical effect that can be one of the most powerful spells a mage can perform. The preparation required to make such a circle are great, however, and many make due with simple circles when they are pressed for time or resources.

Spellscribed Tales: First Refrain

And now for the moment you're waiting for!

Coming soon (I.E. in May) is Spellscribed Tales: First Refrain!

This book, while not the third in the Spellscribed series, tells stories from the world of Spellscribed. Anyone who is a fan of Spellscribed will find this book doesn't disappoint! I hope you enjoy this book as much as I did!

Here's a Sample from one of the two stories in First Refrain:

Then, one night while Devinia was sleeping, her mother swept in and woke her with a start.

“Get dressed and grab the bag I packed for you.” Ashrava commanded, shaking Devinia’s shoulder. All the lights in the house had been extinguished, and only her eyes could pierce the darkness.

She slipped out of bed and went to her closet. Inside was a stand mirror for which the frame had been grown instead of carved. Because of the pitch darkness, though she could see, there was no reflection in the mirror. While still reflective, there was nothing it revealed except a pair of golden cat eyes staring back at her.

She reached for the small light crystal her mother had put in the closet, but Ashrava caught her hand. Looking up, she saw her mother shake her head slightly. Frowning, she turned back to her clothes.

Slim and slender, Devinia hadn’t even grown into her full height yet. Just under five feet, she was pretty but indefinite, with no definition of curve nor muscle, she could be confused for an elven boy just as easily as a girl. She was nearing her growing period, which happened between twenty and twenty two.  Her father, as a silk weaver, had made sure her wardrobe was well stocked so she had plenty of adult clothing prepared in advance.

She dressed quickly, confused but afraid to ask her mother any questions. Ashrava was wearing her civil service gear and smelled of blood. Her face was tight, drawn into a mask of emotionless focus. Devinia had seen her mother make that face before, when she thought that Devinia wasn’t looking. It was her expression when she thought a fight was going to start. It was the face she made when she was called in to do a contract.

Since Sha’hdi fashion trended towards the blacks and grays, Devinia didn’t have much clothing that couldn’t be stealthy. She avoided clothing with hanging adornments and shiny embellishments. Thus dressed, she pulled her shoulder length blonde hair together and bound it from her face with a simple black ribbon.

Devinia pulled the bag out from under her bed and slipped it onto her shoulders. She looked over to her mother and nodded. The room was pitch black, but the two of them could see clearly they were alone for the moment. Ashrava opened her mouth to speak, but froze.

A faint tick of something hard touching wood came from the other side of the bedroom door. Devinia looked to the door and back at her mother. She had disappeared.

The doorknob silently turned, and the door slipped open just enough to let a lithe, masked figure into the room. Devinia backed away as quietly as she could, hoping that her pack wouldn’t make enough noise to give herself away. The assassin looked over the bed and scanned the room. She had golden eyes; the gold burning in defiance of the muted colors of the dark. She spotted the girl immediately.

“Ah… already dressed and ready to go.” The voice purred. Devinia thought she had heard the voice before. “Where is your mother?”

Devinia shook her head.

“Pity.” The assassin said, drawing a long, thin blade barely wider than one of her delicate fingers. “I had hoped to take care of her without waking you, but since you’re now awake… I am sorry, honey. But if you lay back down on the bed, I promise I will make it quick and painless, okay?”

Devinia trembled in fear, but shook her head. “No.”

“No?” the assassin pouted. “I’m offering you a gift, child.”

She did not hear Ashrava drop down behind her.

Artifice. The art of crafted spells

The art of crafting magic into physical objects is not one isolated to just humans. Any intelligent being that could use magic at one point had a thought that sounded similar to: "Wow, even though I have cosmic, world bending powers, it would be handy to have some of those powers set into a more permanent object so I use it without needing all that concentration and energy I usually have to use. That would be great."

... Whatever the motivation, crafting a magically enchanted item was a sound idea. Done properly, a magical item can do almost anything a mage could do. Some items were made to supplement a mage's abilities, some boosted them, some even provided completely bizarre and strange new powers to the user.

One of the appealing parts of magically enchanted items is the fact that almost anyone can use the item instead of a spell just being able to be cast by a mage. Should a mage be able to throw fire from his hand make a glove that does the same, anyone wearing the glove should be able to use it to throw fire, so long as they can fulfill the requirements to activate it.

Those requirements could be anything so long as it can be considered a trigger. Pressing a button, making a certain hand sign, saying a trigger word, or touching with a drop of blood are the most commonly accepted methods to activate items. Other conditions could exist.

Some items, however, are created by someone powerful enough to make them able to have a constant effect.  These are fueled by some other source, subtly subsume the surrounding energy in the environment, or are granted so much power that they run little risk of running out for centuries. However they're achieved, such powerful objects are sought after by any who know of their ability.

There is some importance to the material of the item crafted. Firstly the purity of the material. Magic works equally well in steel as it does wood, depending on the purity of both materials. Steel that is poorly made, or of a bad mixture of minerals, will resist the flows of power and reduce the efficiency of an item. Rarer metals are better, silver and gold being favorites for crafting as they are relatively easier to get ahold of. Platinum, and other extremely rare metals, provide even better results. No matter what material, the purity of the material being used is extremely important. The standard purity of a metal accepted by ironsoul mages is 85%, while mages such as the Archmagus only work with metals of 98% purity or higher. Metal Enchanted items are a signature of Ironsoul mage craftsmanship

Woods that have been artificially treated with strange chemicals or drawn from young trees would be similarly reduced in efficiency. Though speculated at why, it had been found that the heartwood of a tree is particularly effective, with better results the greater the age of the tree. Some groves in the Elven country of Salthimere have a variety of trees grown in geomantically optimal locations, tended to by some of the best woodshapers in the dual monarchy. They can use their ability to extract the needed type, age, and volume of heartwood without causing their trees much more than mild irritation. Wood Enchanted items are a signature of Salthimere mage craftsmanship.

Stones and other minerals like crystal structures are used by all races, but were once the specialty of Dwarven mages. Many of their secrets were lost with the disappearance of the race thousands of years ago, though some of their edifices are existant to this day, a testament to the durability of their crafting techniques. Only the Mercanians were close to the dwarves in terms of ability to work stones and crystals. As with metals and woods, the more pure the base material, the better that power could run through it.

Regardless of the material used, the act of Enchanting an object changes it. Not counting the actual effect it was enchanted for, the object enchanted resists decay far more effectively than a mundane counterpart. The power flowing through it keeps the material in peak condition. It also reinforces the structure of the object, making it harder to damage. The more powerful the enchanted object, the harder it is to scratch/cut/break. This is exceedingly helpful for magical objects made of very pure rare materials, like silver, gold, willow, or sandstone. Tales exist of crystal orbs made by mages surviving the collapse of a stone tower directly on top of it, or mages who had used their staves to block attacks that would have cut through a foot of stone. Enchanted buildings have remained undamaged amidst widespread destruction.

The practice of making such enchanted objects is extremely difficult, though by every right worth the effort. The crafter needs to know everything relating to the object they're making. This means they need to know everything about the materials being used (percentage of purity, weight, dimensions, etc.) the tools being used, and most importantly the effect being wrought. It's possible to 'estimate' the values of the base materials, but a mage cannot spitball the magical know-how behind the effects they're trying to evoke. If they want to make an object that does something, they better research the magic behind that thing. An example would be researching spells that create light in order to make a crystal that sheds light on command. Without a proper grasp of the principles, one could make an enchanted object that is either inefficient or one that outright fails. Even worse, being misinformed about the principles used can cause the object to work, but to disastrous ends.

As with any degree of mastery, the better a mage knows what he's doing, the more effective their craftsmanship would be. The aforementioned light crystal could require activation and only work for a few minutes before being inoperable for the rest of the day when made by a novice, but once mastered the same crafter could make a crystal that always sheds light without needing to shut down and was far clearer and brighter than the original.

Example Object:
Apprentice Grady is trying to build a staff that spews fire like a miniature dragon. He procures the wood, metals, and tools, and sets to work using a fire spell he learned a month ago to create the object. weeks of work later, he finishes. It works, spraying flame when a trigger word is spoken, but it's rather lacking. The weak flames only reached out about ten feet and Grady could only get it to work once before he had to refill the stave with power.

Grady's master, Magus Randal Grey, wants to show him how to do it. With finer materials procured and high quality tools, he uses the very same spell he taught his apprentice in the crafting... but he had learned it a century ago and had been practicing with it regularly. His staff worked spectacularly. The flames where white hot and reached three times as far, and required only a tiny trickle of power to not only fuel the spell, but to activate it. To anyone else, he could just point and shoot without any unnecessary actions. The power requirements were so low, that even a normal human could have the energy to activate the staff at least once.

While the difference in the power of the staves were vast, the principles were the same. Only experience, superior tools and materials, and more intimate understanding of the spells involved made Magus Grey's staff better. With practice and time, Apprentice Grady would be able to make an object of similar power.

'Traditional' Ironsoul style spellcasting

Ironsoul style spellcasting originates from before the time when Ironsoul was founded. In the centuries before The Shattering, humans of the region were ruled by their all-powerful Mercanian overlords. Arcane power, the secrets of controlling the fabric of reality, were used at the expense of thousands of human lives. Even attempting to learn about how the Mercanians work magic meant a death sentence.
 
Still, things were learned over time. Observers shared rumors of bits seen of battles between Mercanians, servants whispered about spells cast when their masters weren't careful to hide their powers. Still, progress was slow, as much of Mercanian magic was etched into their skin and therefore even harder to discern.
 
When the Mercanian empire collapsed almost literally upon itself during The Shattering, the surviving humans no longer had to hide their research. Thousands of years of magical knowledge gained over dozens of generations of a species that passed on their power to their survivors had been lost.
 
The empire had been shattered, their magnificent cities devastated and lost to the oceans that rushed to reclaim the sunken continent. Nearly every location containing arcane knowledge had been lost, save for one. Ironsoul.
 
Originally a border city, Ironsoul had still been under construction when The Shattering called a halt to the Mercanian empire. The millions of enslaved humans  watched the destruction of their empire and waited for a Mercanian overlord to return to tell them what to do. None came, and in the years that followed the humans abandoned the tasks their masters had enforced in them, and began to build their own society.
 
Centuries passed, and since then the survivors of the labor force of Ironsoul spread out, forming their own kingdoms. From the meager archives of magical knowledge present in Ironsoul, the circle of magi were formed. Like a pale echo of the former Mercanian masters, the circle of magi gained great power... for humans.
 
Ultimately, human magic is based off of a model of one method Mercanian spellcasting. Gestures, words of power, and mental practices were learned from the scraps their prior masters left behind. While initially incomplete, Humanity had proven quite capable of filling in the gaps.
 
Calling their magic scraps of a prior empire would be doing their abilities an injustice. Ironsoul style spellcasting is unique in that it uses the simplest forms of spellcasting available to achieve great results. Human ingenuity had sprung ideas that made economic use of a human's meager auras a possibility. Even the elves, the next users of magic, could not do the same with as little power as the average human mage had.
 
Human spellcasting has three primary components. There is the gestures used, the words of power spoken, and the spell form shaped using power drawn from their aura. The ultimate goal is the creation of a spell form: a complicated shaping of power that changes something in the world.
 
Power is first pulled into the body through the anchoring chakra that connect the aura to a living person; the heart.
 
The words of power are fragments of an ancient language used to help form the world. Their purpose lubricates the creation of a spell form, making it easier to push it into the proper place. This necessity can be reduced the more a mage is capable of making that form by memory, but even so, the final word of power, the triggering word, is almost always impossible to remove since it is what helps the mage focus his power into a targetable effect.
 
The gestures, postures, and mudras used are a long list of pre-learned movements that a mage uses while pushing power through their bodies. By expelling the power, typically through their fingertips, a mage literally shapes a spell form in their body. Most any spell form can be made using a combination predesigned motions. This can be shaped with will alone, but that only comes from practice and deep understanding of the spell form being used. Even so, the final gesture is needed just like the final word of power in order to make a targetable effect.
 
Human style spellcasting relies heavily on rote learning. By being able to perform the actions required to cast a spell without actively thinking about it, a human has the concentration to focus his mind on channeling power through their body safely. This is inherently dangerous for humans, as since they are natural creatures and not inherently magical which have bodies capable of handling power flowing through their systems. To them, actions like 'holding' a spell are possible, but highly damaging to their bodies.
 
Because of rote learning, they have developed their own 'trick' to spellcasting: Slinging. By knowing intimately every aspect of a spell, a human spellcaster can internalize all but the final word and gesture of a spell, shaping the energy flooding their body in an instant. This allows a spell to be 'slung' out at speeds useful for combat scenarios, but the process is admittedly inefficient, losing upwards of half the power spent on the spell. This meant that the spell could be brought into play with a thought, murmured word and a gesture... but pushing power through the caster's body so quickly causes much of it to be lost in the process.
 
Among human spellcasters, the quality of a spell when slung is considered the standard. Long-form casting, the normal way, is usually used when the caster has the time and attention available to make sure it is done efficiently and precisely.
 
Even so, humans still unknowingly lose some of their power when casting. Since their bodies are not naturally able to handle power, a little bit is lost in their meridians, burning them very mildly. This is why a human mage can end up exhausted from 'emptying the well' quickly; It's the ache from their overexerted meridians more than any physical exertions (Unless the spells being cast had great physical motions required)
 
Burning out is the term relating to leaving power in a human's meridians for too long. From the instant they draw in power, it burns itself onto their flesh. Holding it for more than the moments required for spellcasting can be dangerous. For long-form casting, the trickle of power is not usually enough to cause long lasting harm if kept in their body, but when one floods the maximum capacity their meridians can handle in order to 'sling' a spell, even a second too long can cause burn out.
The damaged meridians harm the skin and nerves of the body, causing a constant, itching and burning. It also prevents the meridians from being used for any purpose, and attempts to use them further burn out the areas around the injury.  The physical damage is quite evident on the surface, but what's worse is the possible internal damage. Any damage to the deep meridians can kill a mage outright, as their life energy flows through them.

Next week I will discuss another type of magic! Any questions?

Types of Magic in Spellscribed

So... Anyone got any burning questions about magic? ;)

Actually, I've been collecting all my notes about how magic works in the Spellscribed series and I realize that there are a few more methods of magic than just the one that the main character uses. Over the next few weeks I'd like to go over some of the types of magic use in my world and perhaps talk a bit about their use and histories.

A few of the types of magic already touched on in the series are:
'Traditional' Ironsoul style spellcasting
'Traditional' Elven spellcasting
Runes
Circle Magic
Summoning
Elemental Calling
Transformation
Ritual Magic
Crafted Spells (magic items)

Would anyone like to see that? Comment below about what you want to hear about first!

In other news, my short novel is almost finished. I'm actively writing book 3 now, and I'm hoping my newly hired cover artist actually gets back to me soon with my short novel's cover.

Spellscribed: Provenance-Revised Edition

So I've been listening to my readers.

One of the things that I think that I ever hear from readers about my first book is that it has a few... well, eccentricities that makes it not as refined and polished as Ascension was. So I've been thinking about this for a while and I have decided that I'm going to be working to fix that.

While I'm writing the third book, I will be having the first one reviewed, re-edited, and revised so that I have a clean, polished set of books in my series. I don't want people to think I am putting overpriced, poorly written literature out there; that's not my goal in the slightest. I'm aware of my own writing faults and while I can try to keep them in mind with my professional writing I can miss things and proper editing definitely helps weed out the errors.

So without further ado, Spellscribed: Provenance will be revised and be replacing the version on amazon. At least I'm pretty sure it will be replacing it. I have to look into how amazon handles new editions of a book beyond minor changes.

I promise that the revised edition will be going over the book with a fine toothed comb, clearing away some of the inconsistencies that plagued my debut novel. I hope that future readers (and past ones) will enjoy it even more now that it will not have those little unpolished burrs in the story.

Any questions, comments, concerns? Post a comment below! I'd love to hear it!

C-c-c-c-changes!

For the better, I assure you!

I had previously mentioned my next book being tentatively titled "Scroll of suns and moons", but after some time spent writing the stories I realized that something wasn't flowing right. It was taking far longer to write than it should.

I did some thinking, examined what I had, and came to the conclusion that one of the characters just wasn't ready to have their story told. It's not that it isn't there; it's just... not the right time for the tale to come to light.

Instead, I dedicated much more time and energy producing a story about a character everyone has come to love, and his tale will be taking the place of the original. I hope everyone finds this story as engaging as I did. I tried a somewhat different perspective when writing this tale as I felt inspired to tell it in a way different from what I've done before.

I should be finishing this story by mid-month and putting it out by the end of the month. It's going to be an exciting set of stories!

After that, I will be returning the bulk of my writing energy to book three of Spellscribed!

ART!

One thing that became evident immediately upon publishing my first book was that the cover art mattered. It used to be that the old adage was appropriate, but in the era of digital window shopping and split second one click purchase decisions, having a good cover is critical to getting a person's attention long enough to look inside the cover and see what kind of good book there is. At first I had a placeholder bit of art and it was generally disliked, even in the review comments. I felt that those reviews were accurate and I quickly searched out for someone to help improve Spellscribed's image.

To that end I have Michael Polen to thank for doing the cover for Spellscribed: Provenance and Ascension. His work was steps above the placeholder cover art I had before and without his efforts I feel that the book might not have reached as many people as it did. Thank you.

However for the next two books I'm producing, I'm going with a new artist. Soon I'll be showing you the upcoming cover for the next book by Samantha Powell Graphic Arts and Design. Sam is a close friend of someone I know dearly and she was glad to take up the new project. Her art style is a bit different, but from what I've seen of her continuation of the cover theme I'm planning it will be amazing. You can see her work off her web page, http://www.sampowelldesigns.com/

Overall, just letting you know that I am still working to put out the next books, and I hope you are still on board to seeing what happens with (and to) Endrance next!

~Kristopher Cruz

Spellscribed: Ascension Review Spotlight

Kingko

5.0 out of 5 stars One of the Best Second books I have ever read,

"Unfortunately many great stories suffer from erosion. As a series progress the mechanics of its world sometimes lose definition where your emersion is broken by contradictions and the occasional bending of the rules. Now this can happen in a good way and it can happen in a bad way. When a character is developing skills to face a foe or insurmountable obstacles in there way and you can feel them working themselves and you with them to achieve victory, this can be a very rewarding experience. However when a character arrives at their proving grounds and just so happens to discover something next to them that can overcome it or they just so happen to discover an ability they have that is perfect for this situation. That can really throw you out of the story. However in Spellscribed: Ascension there are none of these problems. The characters develop in an organic way that fits in the universe. Even some of problems from the last book, such as the occasional erratic behavior of characters has been fix and even improved in that the characters are more flushed out and the rules for the magic system are more reinforced as well. This leaves you with some idea about what characters might do sometimes in situations, but what really makes this an exhalant story is that the characters surprise you they reinvent what they can do with their skills without breaking rules of the world. Even the problem that most second books have is handled, the story is encapsulated in the book while still leaving room for cliff hangers for the next book. I loved the first book and I love this book and I can’t wait for more."