A Fantastical Year.

So, were back to world building, and this is something that has always been on my mind, but that I've never quite been able to do...

A Calendar.

You see, while it's easy enough to just make up a dozen names and then give them to months, they won't have any sort of internal consistency... being English, my calendar is a weird stew of Latin, Norse and French, which came about as the result of over a millennia of wars, invasion, trade and naturalisation... which you honestly cannot just make up and expect it to work.

So , let's get us some history on, so we know why it our months are what they are. They're all originally Latin, obviously, but what do they mean? Obviously, I'm gonna simplify these, so if you wanna know more check Wikipedia.
So, start off, January - named after Janus, the two faced god. One looks back on the year past, the other forward to the year to come. Makes sense.
Then February, named after cleaning... cos spring cleaning. Basically.
March was the first month of the campaign season, so takes it's name from the war god Mars. Also the source of the bars.
April-June basically relate to the agricultural goddess in one way or another.
July and August were named after the peeps who killed the Republic.
And September-December roughly mean 'Seventh-Tenth Month', cos the year originally started in March... Romans - they loved their wars.

And, then, as you all probably know, the weekdays are named after celestial objects and Norse gods... roughly. Once more, check the wiki if you're interested.

So, how do you equal that? Hell, how do you even hold a candle to it?

Bethesda took one pretty good system - for the days, just change a letter or two. For the months, name them after the most important thing that happens. Hence you get Morndas (Monday) 26th of Frostfall (October). A good system.
On the other hand, you have some systems that just make up each from scratch. Whilst this does make them more unique... it's just confusing. Especially if it's never explained, only referenced. So you might have someone mention it's Girgu 38th of Harplit... and that tells us less than nothing. In fact, I'd likely be less confused if they hadn't told us anything.

So the solution? Well... obviously I'm gonna take the second option.

Does this make me a hypocrite? No. There are much better reasons to call me a hypocrite.

In any case, I have something to help limit the confusion - at least, to those who have kept up to date. And if you haven't, well, that's kinda your own fault. Scroll back to Cosmology first, then read this.

Caught up? Great, lets roll.

So, to start, we have to decide what sorta length the year is. Is it the same, shorter or longer? Is it still a little imperfect? Well, no... but that's mostly just for ease of planning. I don't wanna have to figure out what day of the week it is on the 9th day of the 6th month. So, actually, that tells me two things; 1. that the year is measured in full days and 2. the number of days in a year is a multiple of seven.

So, 12 months of 28 days then? Well, no... that's a bit too short. 13 months gives us a 364 day calendar. Perfect.
... Crap, now I have to think up the name for an extra month. Damn my laziness.

Alright, so, to simplify... I'm gonna have the year start in Spring, rather than cut Winter up as we do... So, the equivalent to March is the start of the calendar

Moving on, we need to name the months. Now, we have 8 gods in this setting, so reasonably thinking I should probably name a month for each. Now lets think...

To start - The Silent Mother... not a great name for a month, so we'll have to switch it up a little... 'Matka' is Slovakian1 for 'Mother'... so, how about Matkaan? I like that. I'm thinking we make this the 3rd month - just about when everything starts growing.
Then there's Faeurin - the Huntsman... Hunting, that's a summer pass time I think you'd agree? Or... possibly make it Autumn, as you collect the last food before winter... yeah, I prefer that. 8th month seems fitting. As for a name... Divokaan? Similar reasoning... Divokaa the 8th month.
Then there's Nervayr - the craftsman... woman... Either way, that's a job for the winter - when you can't do anything else, you can work on your craftsmanship. I'm thinking the 11th month, and for a name... Kovaan. Sweet.
Then there's Ailan. He's a wanderer, so it's gotta be a summer month. And he's kinda a rogue... Tulaan, the 7th Month.
Okay, so next comes Oliviana, the magus. I'm actually thinking the 1st month for her - she looks for new discoveries, whilst prizing ancient knowledge... similar theme to Janus then... we'll call it Vedecaan.
Ondarir - war god... so, spring again. Maybe the 2nd month? Seems appropriate... we'll call it Bojovaan.
Then we get Siliar... dead of winter for her, so we'll say the 12th month. Maybe call her's the mourning month? What's that then? Tziaan.
And finally, we have Baelur, the leper... I'm thinking end of the year for him, but mostly cos he is connected to Siliar. So, we need a name... Neclaan. Right.

Oh, and one last thing - when I first made this setting, I mentioned the first Emperor declared the day of his victory the start of the year... this, obviously, has ceased to be since, but I want some record of it. So, maybe name a month after it? Probably occurred near the end of campaign season, so... lets say 9th month, and... the Emperor named himself Nemian, so that fits pretty well... Nemiaan, start of the Imperial Year.

... and the rest will be numbers, so:

1. Vedecaan
2. Bojovaan
3. Matkaan
4. Styraan
5. Piataan
6. Sestaan
7. Tulaan
8. Divokaan
9. Nemiaan
10. Desataan
11. Kovaan
12. Tziaan
13. Neclaan

... And, then we need days... damn, this is taking a long time. Actually, I think on this occasion, I may just go for Firstday, Secondday, etc. up to Seventhday... I know this is laziness speaking, but actually, I really like that. It's something simple that everyone'll remember, and is not half so complicated as the months...

... So, yeah - job complete. I'm happy with my work, and glad I started it early. Next week ought to be a picture of my monthly pledge for A Tale of More Gamers, so you have that to look forward to.

And, as usual, thank you for reading. Hope you've enjoyed this... tangent-heavy post.

Volodanti out.

¹ For those who are interested... I intermix Slovakian and Ukranian not because I don't know the difference... but because I can't read Cyrillic. So, when I'm just doing a quick translate, it's a lot easier. Plus, they share the same root language, so there is a not inconsiderable amountof overlap.

The Campaign that almost was...

First off - Happy Summer Solstice! Hope y'all enjoy the longest day of the year.

Second off.... Yeah, really sorry this is late. When I got in from work I just totally blanked on it... which is upsetting, cos I had my post ready, I just needed to upload it... damn.

Anyway, here's what you get - a bit of fluff. I mentioned it last week - it's the opening to the mini-campaign/session I was meant to do earlier this week. It essentially just introduces our characters and sets us the scenario... so not my best work, but still decent I think.

In any case, I hope you like it. Thanks for reading... and sorry again.

Volodanti out.

A cold sun set over a rolling plain. Grassland stretches as far as the eye can see – undulating from hills and rivers and hollows, occasionally broken by empty fields, or farms, or dead woods. A great cobbled road crossed it like some giant wyrm, straight but for the folds of the landscape. Countless others cross it; some few paved, most mere dirt tracks, but none even half so large. Off the side of one of these innumerable veins a small fire burned in a campsite, casting five long shadows out to the encroaching night.

The first sat upon a low log, chewing on a faintly sizzling hunk of meat. He was a large man – not the tallest perhaps, nor the widest, but well built. Barrel chested, with broad shoulders and large hands, he wore a plain outfit; loose trousers and a russet shirt under an old brigandine. His face was rough – weather-beaten skin and a large nose, clearly broken more than once, beneath a heavy brow. His eyes were small and a dull blue, whilst his hair was cut short; brown curls over his head and face. At his waist was strapped a small hatchet; its blade nicked from use, and the leather of the handle worn, but the blade still shone when the light of the fire caught it.

To his left, upon a cushioned stump, sat a dwarf playing quietly on a small flute. She wore a turquoise shirt coupled with a long green skirt, and an expensive mauve coat; fur trimmed silk with a number of brass studs sewn into it in a peculiar pattern. Her face was quite the opposite of the first; delicate, especially for a dwarf, with large hazel eyes and full lips. She wore her hair down; long curls of shining hair framing her face like the polished oak that surrounds a painting. Beside her lay an elaborate mask; white porcelain and bright feathers with a copper filigree. Beneath the hilt of a sword was just visible; a fanciful affair of copper and brass; basket hilted and topped with a small sapphire.

Across from her, inspecting the party from crossed-legs was a Sylph. She wore a tight-fitting suit of blackened leather; goose-pimpled arms bare to the elements, revealing faint silver whorls upon her skin. About her shoulders was wrapped a cloak; the colour of the sky at midnight and inlaid with silver thread in the rough shape of a chalice, surrounded by runes barely visible bar when they caught the light. At her neck was a large opal; held in a cradle of silver, an eye was barely visible engraved within. Her face was an odd mix of soft and hard; thin lips and large blue eyes that most would find enviable, though one was milky white beneath a thin scar. The tips of her ears pointed out from beneath platinum locks, giving her an almost fey appearance. At her waist were strapped a matching spatha and a stiletto – their hilts silvered and their blades encased in fine scabbards.

The fourth sat close to her, shivering as he warily eyed the rest of the party. He could almost pass for a cousin, but for a few differences. He wore a long tunic over loose pants; both a dark bluish-grey, and a fitted chestplate over them; brown leather matching his spaulders. His face was tilted downward beneath a tight hood; stark white hair peeking out around a pale face; blue eyes in dark sockets, his cheeks gaunt and his lips twisted into a half-smile. He twirled a dagger between numb fingers; a wide blade beneath an odd, almost figure-of-eight shaped guard. At his waist of a short sabre with a slender blade, tucked between folds of blue cloth that served as his belt.

Finally, stood facing outward was an older man in a dull suit. He wore a tan shirt and tight brown trousers in the Numorran-style beneath an umber coat. His face was long; tight lips and close-cropped hair; once brown but turning grey as it grew in, matching the shadow of growth across his cheeks. He gripped the hilt of his spatha in his right hand, his left never more than a few inches from the stiletto. Upon his chest was a worn iron pendant inscribed with an open eye, barely visible even in the light of the fire.

As the last rays of the winter sun were lost beyond the horizon the fifth figured turned to the others, his stance vaguely militaristic. The Dwarf lowered her flute at this, turning her eyes on him, as did the Sylph. The men remained unmoved, staring into the heart of the fire; the light seeming magnified in the eyes of the larger.

“Now seems as good a time as any to begin. I doubt we’ll see any travellers this late.” He cleared his throat then, a soft cough that seemed more a habit than necessary. “You’ve each your reason to be here. Redemption, or opportunity, or duty, or revenge. And frankly, I couldn’t care less. If you do the job, your reasons are your own. If you don’t, you’ve no purpose being here.” He gave them each a hard stare then, as if to force the uncommitted to depart. “So, are you here for the long haul?”

“Aye Captain.” The Sylph responded, glancing aside sheepishly when she realised that she was the only to respond.

“Thank you Lolette. Though, it wasn’t you I was referring to.” The dwarf had the grace to blush, a faint pink colouring her cheeks, whilst the men continued to ignore him. “Nor you Beata.” Still the men refused to acknowledge him. He cleared his throat again and continued regardless.

“We’re camped now four leagues from Dho Nova. Nova Vehn as some are calling it now. Come dawn, you’ll break camp and March west – I’ve provided papers to get each of you into the city. Once you cross into LeVehn’s lands, you’ll be contacted. I am assured we have a man in the slums beyond the city walls waiting.”

The group took this in, mulling it over. One by one they frowned, realising the pertinent fact hidden within the briefing. It was the larger man who broke the silence though.

“Papers to get us in – but not out?” His voice was rough, but surprisingly soft given his appearance.

“You are correct Cyrus. It would require… more resources than we’d care to expend getting you out again.” He cleared his throat, and the hooded man gritted his teeth. “In any case, if you cannot find a way out of the city, I doubt you’d be up to the challenges ahead.”

“So, what you’re saying,” Cyrus replied, frowning as he turned to look at him for the first time. “Is that it’s a test. Because you don’t trust in us.” Though he’d turned away from the fire, it still seemed to burn in his eyes.

“The Umbra trust in the abilities of each of you… individually. As a whole, you’re untested. And your commitment uncertain.” Again, the cough.

“’Uncertain’?” Cyrus growled, and Lolette looked taken aback – hurt even. “I have served longer than Quorrum has been a nation. And you doubt my commitment?”

“You served a dangerous sect – one which we have done our best to bury in shame. You were lucky that you simply served, else you can trust me when you say doubts of commitment would be the least of your worries.” He turned then, to stare at the hooded man; the sole individual yet to speak. “And you Kyln? No thoughts on the matter?”

“It’s stupid. You shouldn’t be sending me out with amateurs.” He replied, glancing his way for but a moment. “But you knew I’d say that. So I didn’t bother.”

“I had been warned to expect more… sass.” The captain responded, before clearing his throat yet again.

“If you’d like, I can help make some room?” Kyln interjected, the dagger’s rotations stopping as he threw a dirty look. “Is that that they meant?”

“… Aye. Like that.” The captain responded, glaring. “And don’t you dare threaten me again.”

Kyln shrugged, but wilted slightly beneath Lolette’s gaze. After a moment, the Captain spoke up again.

“I have some information for you. I want you tested, but I’d prefer that you had at least some chance of succeeding.” He paused to clear his throat, before thinking better of it and continuing. “The walls of Dho Nova may be broken in places, but these breaches are all the more heavily defended for it. Work crews are rebuilding around the clock in any case, so you can’t simply slide through at night. There are numerous parties travelling through almost daily. Perhaps you could try to find a way into one of them. Or, of course, there are always the holes that rats are wont to scurry through,” he cast a rather unsubtle glance at Kyln then, before continuing. “Perhaps you can find a way through. But, whatever you do, make it quick – we can’t wait on you forever.” With his speech finished he strode past them, in the direction of the road. “I’ll leave you here. Lolette has the papers, and you know your job.” He paused on the edge of camp, glancing over his shoulder, half his face cast in the flickering light of the fire, the other near black in the dark. “And remember – you pass, or fail, as a unit. Try to remember that before you start your little schemes.” He turned away then and departed, his form lost to the gloom soon after the stepping outside the circle of firelight.

There was a moment’s awkward silence between them as they glanced between each other, waiting for someone to speak up. After a moment, Lolette stepped up; analytical if not exactly diplomatic.

“Right, we have our mission. It seems straight forward enough, so it’s a matter of skill and planning here. And you heard him – we do this as a unit. So… make nice okay?” She looked to the former sailor. “Cyrus, was it? You can take first watch. Wake Kyln at midnight. I’ll take the last watch, and then we depart as soon as the sun rises. Everyone understand? Perfect. Rest well; tomorrow will be the start of a busy few weeks.”

A melancholic post

... Bit of a wobbly sorta week for me. There's been the upsides, and the down, but I'll fill you in as is relevant.

So, this week past has been my holiday. I had to take one, cos I'd saved up too many... apparently. I thought "great, chance to actually paint!" - after all, I am ever the optimist. And ever forgetful of just how lazy I can be... But, I did do a little at least. And ordered parts for Shield Caster's personal Warjack. So... not a total waste.

But, on the other hand, I'd hoped to spend the weekend in Stevenage... and I'm not. So, it was never gonna be the best weekend.

Still... Elder Scrolls Online. So that's good.

So, the thing I was originally this post was gonna be fluff, because - shocker - I was gonna play some D&D. Yes, after almost a year of expanding the setting, I was going to return to Jugisium on monday. So I wrote y'all a bit of pre-campaign fluff to introduce everyone, and set up what was due to happen.

... or that was the plan. Until everyone in the group was busy on different days. So, yeah... that's on the back burner... again.

... Might as well continue the swings of this and go with another piece of good news.

Custom Casters! A new campaign idea we've had. Basically, the idea is you chose any Prime or Primal Warnoun (we edited this to any non-epic Warnoun), drop all their spells in a box and then make them part of your faction. You then do a spell draft for them, which has involved a bit of leg work, since we're trying to do it without being in the same room as each other.

... so much copy-pasting...

Now, this is an idea that I am genuinely really fond of. It gives everyone a chance to make something unique and interesting, whilst also playing Warmachine. It's the best part of 40k, in the game I play most often.

... but sadly, that brings me to the bit of this week that genuinely upset me. Because, for the past month or two, myself and a few friends have been preparing for a campaign in the grim darkness of the 41st millennia. The basic idea is that, due to a clerical error, it appears that a system has failed to match it's tithe. the system in question is home to a Space Marine chapter, so detatchments from 3 chapters are send in to ensure everything is resolved quickly and with a minimum of fuss.

And, it's been good. We haven't started yet, but we've wrote enough fluff to fill a codex. Good times... until this morning. Someone asked how much the new Space Wolf upgrade sprues are, and I went online to check for him... and found out that 10 models are now £50.

And I quit.

I just couldn't justify it to myself anymore. I knew that the prices were silly, and have done for a while... but it wasn't until today that it crossed the line.

Now, I'm not going to stop playing - not by a long way. And I might still grab the odd bit here and there, if something takes my fancy... but, I'm not getting anything new. I won't start new armies. After I finish the Praetorians, I won't buy new squads.

I'm done enabling Games Workshop. And, to be honest... that probably makes today one of the saddest of my life. I'm saying goodbye to near a decade, actually almost exactly a decade, of a hobby.

... so, yeah... sorry if I've made your saturday a little depressing. It genuinely was not my intention... but... well, thanks for being here with me as I go.

Volodanti out.

I call the Storm!

... Y'all knew what this meant.

New models. Well, newly painted. And I like em - which makes quite the change.

I'm not even gonna lie - the inspiration for the colour scheme came from AC: Unity, but I thought that the style of coats would pair well with a stark blue-and-white aesthetic - if you'll forgive how utterly poncy that sounded. But, seriously - I thought it'd work, and after painting the first one last month, I think I may have to subtly change all future paint jobs... and a few from the past.

Incidentally, this marks my first attempt at green-stuffing for something other than filling gaps. The front half of the do on the 'smith with the white hair is sculpted - originally his hairline was a hell of a lot further up his head - almost at the crown... and whilst I get that they were going for the 'mad scientist franken-ein-stein' look, it was just too much... so, pretty pleased with how that turned out.

I'm lying - I'm ecstatic. Which is a bit sad when you realise how simple a job it was... but, baby-steps people, baby steps.

... There are of course things that I'm less happy about. If I were to go at it again - which I will next month - I'd probably like to find a better way to do the lightning effects on the rods. Possibly add some more silver to them while I'm at it - if you look closely, you can see it change from brass to copper at the head... but it's just a bit too subtle a change over such a large part of the model.

... Also, the white needs a bit of work to make the brush strokes less obvious. It's fine in the picture, but when you look at it in person, it's... well, a tad noticeable.

... But, yeah - all in all, pretty darn chuffed with how it's turned out. Now, I just have to paint 10 stormguard next week...

... I hate the Tale of More Gamers sometimes.

Cheers for reading. Volodanti out.