Nanowrimo 2023 Project -- Dhampir's Story!

 We've reached the halfway point for Nanowrimo '23 and I'm at the 28K-ish mark of the first draft of Dhampir's backstory. In the tale, she's still Dhampirika. I'm sure the draft is going to go past 50K because I haven't even gotten her to the Fomorian homeland yet. A few things have sprung up that I'm going to have to see how it affects the other novels in the series-- 1) Aettrynne plays a much bigger role in Dhampir's childhood than I originally thought. In the overarching storylines between the characters, I knew she was going to be the Eravisci's war-mage, replacing the head of their druidic council when he is killed. In working out Dhamp's plot, though, she popped up much earlier than expected--in fact, she delivers the infant Dhampir! (And she also keeps the child from killing her mother during the birth process.) So now, I have the basis of why Dhamp and Aev have a quiet almost sibling-like competitive thing between them. Aettrynne knew

Happy 16th Anniversary to Caledon Speirling!


Yuletide Greetings from Caledon Speirling '22


Prologue (Exordium)

Between the realms of fable and fancy, there once was a land called Caledon. A commonwealth of united communities, her residents were as varied as one’s imagination. In this land, magick was often fused with science and technology. Humans, faeries, mechanicals, aetherials, daemons, gnomes, and hybrids lived in a tenuous harmony. Caledonian adventurers might enjoy mountain climbing and spelunking on the magnificent flying mountain over Morgaine Valley in the morning and later, moonlight sailing in the river below. Academics traveled south to learn a trade at Oxbridge University in the a.m., often then catching an airship to settle in for a lesson on potioning at the Academy of Wizardry overlooking the nation’s large inland Firth at night. Socialites crowded the lavish Gaiety Theatre in the fashionable PenzanceTown shopping district on opening nights. Later, they might hire a carriage to the Tangled Woods to join in a midnight jig with a menagerie of tiny animal hybrids and sprites under

Backing up a bit

The main storyline of the Speirling Unseelie Court is going on hiatus while we do a bit of streamlining and, yes, retconning to make the history of the characters' time in Speirling make much more sense. The characters' backstories will be posted here to keep things rolling.

Sometimes Catnip isn't Enough

Moggie loved it when new crops of plants were brought up to the landing of Tempest Fortress. The clanks always made her giggle and the smell of the plants being carefully dried was always a treat. Fae, Ariadne, Moira, and Dhampie had come to help with things and, Moggie thought that it felt like family for the first time in a while. They may not be actually family by blood, but the women were as close to aunts as she would ever have. Moggie grabbed a bunch of the tiny Speirling roses and let out a giggle-squee as their electric sparks made her hair, ears, and tail all defy gravity. This made the women stop working for a moment and Moggie heard her mother cackle for the first time in, it seemed, ages. But something was amiss. Moggie quickly realized that her sister, Min, wasn’t in the chorus of laughter at her antics. She put the armful of flowers down, defuzzing after a moment or two. Soon, she spotted her twin, on the other side of the piles of flowers and other plants. Min was perc

And Still, We Stand

The morning’s sun struggled to break through the grey along the Firth but Aev had been up for hours, milling around the gardens on the great island of East Speirling. Though she had the magick to keep the ongoing downpour from her, she had allowed it to drench her cloak as she went about her chores. The velvet, weighed down by the water, clung to her arms as she moved in a seeming rhythm as she worked. She reached for another glowing petaled treasure, stepping forward, and the cloak slapped against the backs of her ankles—reach, pluck, step, slap, slosh, reach, pluck, step, slap, slosh. What would have been a fresh crop of tea roses elsewhere in Caledon, in Speirling, they were something to behold. The Speirlinium veins that ran beneath the islands seeped through the soil, affecting the flora and fauna in rather interesting ways. If they hadn’t been frightened away from all of the rumors of witches and otherkins, the colonial scientists of Caledon would surely be crawling around th