I know it’s been a while, but I’m pleased to report that our Map Room is fully operational, not entirely unlike certain planetoid-sized battle stations. I’ve inserted brief descriptions of each location below its respective map, with copious links to our lovely Codex.
Also, there’s a new page of Overtures!
Greetings!
Act I, Scene 3 has begun, and is marching forward at a fine pace, to hop back aboard (if you can)! Amy and I have the entirety of Scene 3 planned out, and have already finalized a script for Scene 4. Exciting, much?
In the meantime, work on our maproom continues, so keep an eye out for that.
Yours, as always,
–Tom.
Greetings.
Those of you who’ve been following the latest news on our little corner of the Interwebs, you’ll notice that . . . well . . . there hasn’t been any. We haven’t produced a page of Overtures for several weeks now.
Between my moving to Mississippi, and Amy scrambling to do some freelance work, we’ve both been swamped. We’re getting to that point in the summer when there’s not enough summer left, I’m afraid. The “Back to School” commercials already are heralding a return to the beast that is “Real Life.”
But no worries. We shan’t forget our duties to our esteemed readers, and shall have our next page ready for our eager audience soon enough–with plenty of fanfare. And possibly a Prussian blue rubber duckie.
. . . and now there are Codex entries telling you a bit more about them.
Yes, I’ll admit that “Draconia” is about as unoriginal a name as you could ask for. I came up with the idea when I was 11, though, so whaddaya expect, eh? Besides, it makes etymological sense. (I could decline the third-declension Latin noun draco, draconis if you don’t believe me.) The name was rolling around in my head as a result of the character Dragonia from the old game Crystalis.
And yes, I know that Urania is the Greek muse of astronomy. That’s a name I came up with when I was 9. The story behind that: I was an astronomy geek back in grade school, and thought the name “Uranus” was too cool not to use. It wasn’t until studying Ancient Greek later that I found out Urania is the feminine form of Ouranos (literally “sky”).
I came up with Eliptia when I was 9, too. That story: I watched Nickelodeon every morning, and there was a Mr. Wizard episode about how to draw an ellipse. I thought the word “ellipse” was pretty, and I thought it would be a fitting name for a ringed planet. (The shape is pretty too, and, if you’re ever bored, I highly recommend trying to draw one with some thumbtacks and string.)
I coined “Tritonia” right alongside Draconia when I was 11. Originally, Tritonia was a ruined, lawless world whose great civilization had been burned to the ground by the evil Draconians. Funny how things change, though, isn’t it?
Most of the details in these entries are ancillary to the plot of our beloved web comic. Ryu haven’t been mentioned at all, and nobody’s going to Crota anytime soon. (Or perhaps they have already.) But this is all a part of my worldbuilding efforts.
Greetings, beloved readers. Today’s post has been brought to you by the Delete and Backspace Keys. Soon enough, you’ll find out why.
Back in February, Amy composed a lively and illuminating post about the evolution of the visual art of Overtures. This is my companion to that post: the much blockier, more editorial “Textual History” of our beloved graphic novel.
As I point out on our handy “About Us” page, Overtures began as an online roleplaying game on mIRC. Thus, its original text—a first draft, if you will—exists as clunky mIRC chat logs, saved on several flash drives. What I am about to show you is an excerpt from one of those chat logs, and how that text evolves into a script for Amy to use when she illustrates the graphic novel.
Avast, ye mateys! Brace yerselves for a textplosion—
Rough Draft:
Session Start: Sat Feb 26 16:22:13 2005
Session Ident: #Altair
* Now talking in #Altair
* Retrieving #Altair info…
<Altair> ((Make the channel secret, please. We don’t want any intrusions.))
* Marius has joined #Altair
* Tiesla sets mode: +o Altair
* Tiesla sets mode: -o Tiesla
<Altair> ((Thank ye kindly!))
* Flynn has joined #Altair
<Altair> <Meanwhile, the short scholarly fellow at the Orator’s side whispers something into his ear.>
<Altair> <Flynn> Lovely, lovely! It really would have been something else to have to carry all of this myself. Not all of us can have such a muscular figure, can we, Bruno? <The Nemnebliari chuckles, grinning in a friendly manner towards the being of muscle.>
<Altair> <Bruno grins slightly, though his face is now drawn with exertion, as he carries no small fraction of the Changeling’s luggage up the steps.>
<Altair> <Altair> <Irenes, meanwhile, continues to look at the orator with a palpable glare of suspicion.> Might I ask who you are, Sir?
<Altair> <The orator raises a hand:> Gladly, Madam. I am Iohan Sveringen, Ambassador of the Island States.
<Flynn> Ah.. <Raises a hand slightly to Iohan, palm to the sky.> Good to know there is someone here who represents places close to my homeland. <His fingers curl into a neutral position as the hand drops.>
<Tiesla> <Again the well-dressed Selluri curtsies, something she is quite thankful to have learned so well that can be executed automatically without messing up her nice dress out in the dirt that they are STILL waiting in… It irritates her to no end, but none of this irritation shows up in her outward appearance at all…> It is nice to meet you, Iohan Sveringen….
<Marius> Yes, charmed, I’m sure. <The Silver Elf still seems distracted, gazing at the orator for a few moments before offering another backward glance toward his servants, suspicious as ever of their incompetence in unloading his carriage.>
<Altair> <Sveringen rests his hands on the marble railing again, leaning forward, and eying each of the non-Humans in turn–particularly the comely Selurri.>
<Altair> <Irenes, meanwhile, tilts her head slightly, asking,> I find it a little surprising that the Emperor would send to us an ambassador, instead of a messenger of his own hiring.
<Altair> <Sveringen, shrugging, and equipping a magnetic smile,> What can I say? The bell choir is quite talented. Care to follow me? I’d be glad to show you to your quarters.
<Marius> Certainly, Ambassador. I am eager to have all of my things unloaded and put in their proper places. <The last words are spoken with a slight emphasis as he smiles upon the out-of-place representative.>
<Altair> <Sveringen:> His Majesty’s servants would gladly see to such. Please follow me. <Whirling around with remarkable grace, his silken black hair slightly tossing with the gesture, he strides back towards the double-doors of polished oak, that lead into the Palace.>
<Altair> <The dark-robed scholarly creature, meanwhile, glares down at the crowd something in the manner of a gargoyle, before turning to follow Sveringen within.>
* Marius proceeds after the Human as well, after a final backward glance at his companions.
<Flynn> <The Nemnebliari cranes his neck to look at his back. He quickly uses his hand to dust off the last bit of dirt still remaining on his clothing, which incidentally shows his great amount of flexibility. After feeling satisfied, he follows after the Silver Elf into the Palace.>
<Tiesla> <Lifting her skirt and giving one more backward glance toward her own things, the Selurri follows after the procession…>
<Altair> <The first interior glimpse of the Palace presents a sight even more opulent than the exterior: the polished red granite construction of the place lends a deep mahogany hue to its entire color-scheme. A grandiose staircase gracefully spreads itself out before all present, ascending in sinuous curves up three tiers of balconies, and, before the staircase, a gorgeous medallion of inlaid polished marbles spreads itsel- …
<Altair> …f across the floor, in the shape of the Éndoran Cross, a testament to the organizing principle of the Éndoran monarchy. Vestiges of the Silver Elven architecture continue with fluted columns, arches, and pediments decorating every turn of the architecture, but even further embellished . . .
<Altair> < . . . with sculptures of red marble, red mahogany, and gilded brass supporting the various architectural elements. Some of these support large candelabra along the sides of the room, and a pair of brass female figures, their loose garments draping off them and over the banisters of the grand staircase in gorgeously sculpted folds, present a pair of candelabra so vast that they seem like chandeliers in themselves.- …
<Altair> …A crystal chandelier likewise hangs from the ceiling, its golden chain supported at the top by figures . . .
<Altair> < . . . on the domed ceiling distantly above. All of the sculptures are of youthful men and women, often in the seminude, and, remarkably, each one of them is unique, and slightly different from the next, both in pose, musculature, and physical feature: they possibly were real models. Several large sets of oaken double-doors stand on the various floors and balconies, likely leading to the branching corridors of the palace.>
* Altair changes topic to ‘The Entrance Hall; Early Afternoon.’
<Flynn> Hm.. <Flynn slows his step as she enter the Palace. His eyes search about every curve and corner of the interior, taking his time to enjoy and appreciate it. This seems especially so on the figures, which he spends extra time to pause and admire for their realistic beauty.> Wonderful pieces..
<Tiesla> <As she enters the very elegant and well-decorated palace for the firs time, she checks the floor quickly for cleanliness before letting her skirt fall back down onto the floor… Her eyes move to the sculptures and art that fills the first room, likely to make a good first impression for those who first enter…. It it pleasing to look upon, although visual art is not her spcialty…>
<Marius> <Born and raised in grandiose Morisus, Marius notes the celebrated Éndoran artwork less for its own beauty and more for the many ways in which it mimics his own peoples’ older pieces. Smiling and gazing around intently, as though impressed, his thoughts remain his own, his outward image one of polite appreciation as he responds in agreement with Flynn.> Yes, indeed. I feel right at home here.
<Altair> <More footsteps are heard approaching through the vast and echoing chamber, as Sveringen turns with flourish to the Silver Elf, responding,> For which I am most pleased.
<Altair> <Wertimer stops at the threshold, meanwhile, wholly enthralled with the sculptures in this room, as Irenes, finally having to clutch his cloak, tugs him along into the room.>
<Altair> <A voice, of Branduin accent, resonant and wise, answers Sveringen’s words before anything else is heard:> Playing host again, Sveringen?
. . . Longwinded, much? Why all those weird angle brackets? And what’s the deal with this strange characters that don’t seem to have made it to the final comic? And ZOMG IT’S SOOOOOO WORDY!!1!1!!one!!!!!!
As writer/editor of the comic, it has been my duty to sift through logs like the one above and turn them into workable scripts. While Amy and I began transforming this old RPG into its present form, a number of characters (e. g., Tiesla, Marius, Wertimer, and Irenes) ended up being eliminated and co-opted into other characters. (Marius, for instance, has kindly donated quite a few of his lines to Sveringen, as you’re about to see.) So let’s take a look at that log again, minus the extra characters, and minus the weird angle brackets and mIRC clunkiness:
Second Draft:
The first interior glimpse of the Palace presents a sight even more opulent than the exterior: the polished red granite construction of the place lends a deep mahogany hue to its entire color-scheme. A grandiose staircase gracefully spreads itself out before all present, ascending in sinuous curves up three tiers of balconies, and, before the staircase, a gorgeous medallion of inlaid polished marbles spreads itself across the floor, in the shape of the Éndoran Cross, a testament to the organizing principle of the Éndoran monarchy. Vestiges of the Silver Elven architecture continue with fluted columns, arches, and pediments decorating every turn of the architecture, but even further embellished with sculptures of red marble, red mahogany, and gilded brass supporting the various architectural elements.
Some of these support large candelabra along the sides of the room, and a pair of brass female figures, their loose garments draping off them and over the banisters of the grand staircase in gorgeously sculpted folds, present a pair of candelabra so vast that they seem like chandeliers in themselves. A crystal chandelier likewise hangs from the ceiling, its golden chain supported at the top by figures on the domed ceiling distantly above. All of the sculptures are of youthful men and women, often in the seminude, and, remarkably, each one of them is unique, and slightly different from the next, both in pose, musculature, and physical feature: they possibly were real models. Several large sets of oaken double-doors stand on the various floors and balconies, likely leading to the branching corridors of the palace.
Flynn slows his step as he enters the Palace. His eyes search about every curve and corner of the interior, taking his time to enjoy and appreciate it. This seems especially so on the figures, which he spends extra time to pause and admire for their realistic beauty. “Wonderful pieces.”
A voice, of Branduin accent, resonant and wise, answers Sveringen’s words before anything else is heard: “Playing host again, Sveringen?”
. . . Whew. That’s much better. Still rather verbose, though. I luxuriated in extraneous descriptions, and still do. Here’s the next pass, with all the unnecessary text designated with strikethru:
The first interior glimpse of the Palace presents a sight even more opulent than the exterior: the polished red granite construction of the place lends a deep mahogany hue to its entire color-scheme. A grandiose staircase gracefully spreads itself out before all present, ascending in sinuous curves up three tiers of balconies, and, before the staircase, a gorgeous medallion of inlaid polished marbles spreads itself across the floor, in the shape of the Éndoran Cross, a testament to the organizing principle of the Éndoran monarchy. Vestiges of the Silver Elven architecture continue with fluted columns, arches, and pediments decorating every turn of the architecture, butred mahogany, and gilded brass supporting the various architectural elements.
Some of these support large candelabra along the sides of the room, and a pair of brass female figures, their loose garments draping off them and over the banisters of the grand staircase in gorgeously sculpted folds, present a pair of candelabra so vast that they seem like chandeliers in themselves. A crystal chandelier likewise hangs from the ceiling, its golden chain supported at the top by figures on the domed ceiling distantly above. All of the sculptures are of youthful men and women, often in the seminude, and, remarkably, each one of them is unique, and slightly different from the next, both in pose, musculature, and physical feature: they possibly were real models. Several large sets of oaken double-doors stand on the various floors and balconies, likely leading to the branching corridors of the palace.
Flynn slows his step as he enters the Palace. His eyes search about every curve and corner of the interior, taking his time to enjoy and appreciate it. This seems especially so on the figures, which he spends extra time to pause and admire for their realistic beauty. “Wonderful pieces.”
A voice, of Branduin accent, resonant and wise, answers Sveringen’s words before anything else is heard: “Playing host again, Sveringen?”
One of my main shortcomings as a writer is redundancy. I could pick through each of these strikethru sentences and tell you in exquisite detail why they are unnecessary. (For instance, why say “interior glimpse” when you can just say “room?” Why say “sinuous curves” when all curves can be described as “sinuous?”) However, doing so would prove cumbersome and, likewise, unnecessary.
Here’s the latest version, minus the strikethru, with restructured dialogue:
Current Script:
The first room of the Palace presents a sight even more opulent than the exterior: polished red granite lends a deep mahogany hue to each fluted column, each arch and pediment; a grandiose staircase gracefully spreads itself out before all present, ascending in sinuous curves up three tiers of balconies. As though these ornaments were not already enough, sculptures of white marble and gilded brass support candelabras, their reflections dimly visible on the polished floors. All of the sculptures are of youthful men and women, often in the seminude, and, remarkably, each one of them is unique in pose, musculature, and physical feature: they possibly were real models.
As the servants open the doors, Flynn strides in first, followed closely by the others. He is quick to turn to Bruno: “Many thanks, by the way, for helping with the luggage, Mr. Cavaldy! Tell me–Mr. Sveringen has already introduced himself, but your other two comrades are–erm–a bit on the quiet side.”
The warrior breaks into another of his benign, simple smiles. “Oh, that’s Mr. Drummond. He’s Sveringen’s secretary. And that’s Ophelia.” As Bruno introduces them both, Drummond glares up at Flynn suspiciously, while Ophelia remains aloofly uninterested in the proceedings. As an aside Bruno adds, “Sveringen calls her his maidservant, but I’ve never seen her clean very much.
The Changeling nods to Bruno’s sidelong introductions, before his attention is immediately arrested by the Entrance Hall. Casting his eyes across the panorama of detail before him, he takes a moment to absorb the sculptures’ realistic beauty. Beneath his breath, taken in by the sight,he remarks: “Wonderful pieces.”
Sveringen clasps his hands behind his back, his serpentine green eyes noting Flynn’s fascination with the palace as he responds: “If you’ve a penchant for art, His Majesty can boast an extensive collection.” Sveringen’s hands remain clasped behind his back, while Flynn at his side takes in the palace’s opulent interior.
“It rivals any from my homeland by far!” He places a hand upon his chest to further suggest his sincerity, then swipes his hand through his curly locks as he notices a lock or two out of place. Amazingly, the hair preternaturally ruffles back to its former perfection.“It would be quite nice to have such lovely ornamentation back at home. And such a variety of models here! Of course, with my people around, it wouldn’t be hard to find a model of any of the rac—” Flynn’s line is cut off as an unfamiliar voice calls out:
“Playing host again, Sveringen?”
Here I’ve replaced a static, two-paragraph description of the entrance hall with one paragraph that proves much more functional and concise, while still providing enough imagery for Amy to work her magic. Gone are the redundant details (mostly), and replaced with action, staging, and dialogue that move the scene forward in a way that mere setting description could not. And, despite all this revision, the “final” version still could use some work, if ever I were to make it publishable by itself.
Thankfully, though, Amy’s illustrations cover up the flaws in my prose: after I translate the logs into text, and the text into scripts, Amy translates the scripts into images for you to see. Therefore, by the time all my layers of editing have taken place, the only text visible to you is the dialogue spoken by the characters. The rest—the descriptions, settings, staging, and acting—become merely the backdrop for Amy’s illustration. By the time a page of Overtures emerges for you to read, miles of invisible text have brought it to you.
Many writers tell rather than show; good writers show rather than tell. I strive for the latter.
. . . which is, of course, the most famous thing Sherlock Holmes never said.
This week’s Codex entries shed some light on the workings of magic in the Altair Universe.
Magic-users in the Altair setting are actually fairly limited in the kinds of magic they can use. “Academic Mages” are often trained to command one of the Inner Elements (Earth, Fire, Air, Water, or Chiasmus), as well as the Outer Elements of Sun, Moon, and Celestial. Thus, a mage of this sort in Altair can only cast magic when her element happens to be present. (E. g., a water mage would have a very difficult time getting along in a desert.) The only exception to this rule is Fire, whose peculiar properties seem to delight in arising out of nothing.
There are kinds of magic users, besides the “Academic Mages.” Their forms of magic seem to derive from the Outer Elements: Druids use Sylvan, Spring, and Winter; Priests use Divine, Dream, and Order; Warlocks and Necromancers use Infernal, Chaos, and Fear; and all have some sort of access to the Inner Elements, as well. While no magic user is limited to just one element, none can use all.
Of course, I didn’t say that any of this was important for understanding Overtures. But I will divulge one little tidbit: these elements are arranged in a schema that constitutes the background of our site.
Just some food for thought. Enjoy!
Esteemed Readers,
As the semester draws to a close, both Amerz and I find ourselves increasingly beleaguered with the mundane work of that terrible thing we call “Real Life.” (Eww.)
However, in order that we might indulge an eager audience with at least a little tidbit, we have developed a recent and fantabulous new bit of canon, in response to a comment on one of Amerz’ comic pages.
Oh, and there’s a little bit about Dwarves, as well. Enjoy!
Yours,
–Tom.
Greetings, esteemed Readers!
So, thanks to Tolkien, it has become a rule that each fantasy setting has to have a race of evil bad-dudes who cause general mischief. Dungeons and Dragons adopted Tolkien’s Orcs, which have in turn appeared in countless other settings from World of Warcraft to Tamriel in the Elderscrolls series. Everybody’s got to have their green, warty, warlike, grunting barbaric evil naughty bad evil race of fearsome (but noble!) savages . . .
. . . except me. There are no Orcs in Altair.
Instead, I opted for the Ogre, which I’ve styled a bit more like the Oni of Japanese myth. Originally gentle helpers of the Druids, my Ogres have become ruthless sorcerers who dabble in demonic pacts, worship a doomsday cult, and obsessively scheme over destroying all other races. They’re generally not nice people.
I’ll have to commission Amerz to draw one one of these days. I assure you, they’re not green at all.
Enjoy!
–Tom.
Those of you who’ve been following the development of the Compendium have likely noticed that most of our entries have centered around Nemnebliar, Merifiana, and the Gnomes. This week, we’re expanding to explore some of the other nations and cultures on the planet of Urania:
Enjoy!
Greetings, gentle Readers!
In honor of Halloween, we shine the spotlight today on everybody’s favorite not-altogether-serious race:
Enjoy!
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