Week 12 Story: Role Played

 (Disneyland – Fantasmic – New Fire Breathing Dragon uploaded to Flickr by user fortherock, no changes made, used under Creative Commons License)

"WROOOOOOAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHRRRRRR!!!"

A classic set-up: glistening gold in plain sight; staggering scaled sentry blocking the way; a duo of daring heroes backed against stone walls. A searing stream flows from the dragon’s maw.

The archer bounds skyward off the stones away from the flames, his tattered brown cowl and cloud grey leather a blur, blazingly drawing his bow to wedge arrows in the dragon’s wings.

Taking advantage of the beast’s grounded state, she makes her move: raging red locks fly atop a warrior clad in fur-lined leather, rampaging at the dragon with axe held high, firmly driving it into the dragon’s skull with finality.

The dragon’s writhing and wailing echoed until it dropped dead, leaving its slayers to silence…

<<VICTORY!>>

EXP: 250’000 <<Level Up!>>

GOLD: 50’000

“Hell yeah! That’s how we roll!”

Whooping and hollering erupted from the bedroom of a teenage girl clad in a tank top and jean shorts, a shaggy mop of brown hair atop her head as she shouted celebration over her computer's keyboard.

Such was part of the Blair Mallory’s everyday routine; she was different from other high school girls: rowdy, active, and energetic due to growing up with an ex-heavyweight boxer for a father. Unfortunately, this made her a magnet for ill gossip and isolation, making her somewhat confrontational and crass. Temper loose and prone to trouble, Blair needed an outlet not inclining to punching someone.

That’s where Pendragon Online came in. With high fidelity audio and visuals, as well as visceral and high-octane fantasy gameplay, brandishing the axe alongside her partner as Faris Bloodworth became the perfect release.

Starting out three months ago, Blair had no grasp of the intricate character class system and forging mechanics, until she met an archer known by the username “Skyler Pierce.” He taught her from the ground up. The two developed a firm camaraderie. The two remain in a party to this day, taking quests and taking names.

“Man… Well, I’d better get to school.” Blair sighed, clacking on the keyboard to chat with her partner. “But first…”

[Faris Bloodworth: Got class. Comin’ out for PendraCon?]

[Skyler Pierce: You bet! See you there?]

[Faris Bloodworth: Yeah! 3 p.m. at Spearpoint Fountain!]

[Skyler Pierce: 4:00 p.m.; registration, remember?]

[Faris Bloodworth: I forgot lol. See ya then!]

The two knew each other lived in the same county, but this was the perfect opportunity to finally meet since PendraCon’s venue was close by this year. Excitedly energized, the tomboyish gamer logged out, snatched her bag and hoodie, and bolted out the door to school.

Classes came and went like airborne arrows. They all blurred together for Blair – partly due to her excitement and as classes tend to do naturally – eventually bells let out for lunch, along with her favorite person to pester…

“Heeeeyyyy, Greggy!”

“Oh, God…”

“Got yer head in those algor-whatzits again?”

“Algorithms.”

“What? Do ya think I’m stupid or somethin’?”

“… Talking with you is pointless…”

Garbed in a dress shirt and jeans, Greg Tyson sat his brunette-topped, slim frame at the same spot every day to eat lunch. Face aloof with black-rimmed glasses, fiddling with his laptop. Not the ‘fun parts’ of it, as Blair eloquently put it. Every day.

Both didn’t know why they bothered; they ended up hating each other by the end of their “conversations” anyway.

“Wimpy asshole…”

“Annoyingly loud…”

“Know-it-all techie…!”

“Blindly raging…!”

“Prick!”

“Nuisance!”

Thankfully, the bell always brings out a ring before their mental berating becomes physical.

Blair couldn’t remember what happened next; before she could care, the 2:20 p.m. bell chimed and she was joyously jaunting out the door to the civic center where PendraCon would take place for the weekend’s duration.

After the rigor of registration, she received her con badge and shyly set off for Spearpoint Fountain. All badges displayed the attendant’s character and username per the registration process, but that did nothing to lessen her anticipation.

Come 4:00 p.m., two people arrived.

“What are you doing here?!” Both Blair and Greg exclaimed.

The answer arrived instantaneously. Both glanced at the badges around their necks, and shock overtook the two.

“Skyler?!” “Faris?!”

Half an hour the two players sat on opposite sides of a fountainside bench, awkwardly averting eyes, utterly beside themselves with uncertainty, tongue-tied for a response.

Bloodworth’s player broke silence first. “I…didn’t know ya played Pendragon…”

“Yeah…” Pierce’s player responded. “About six months, now. No one else in school liked…the ‘boring parts’ of computers, so I thought… Maybe just…let that stress out a bit.”

Like bearing the strike of her own axe, Blair’s head heaved guiltily. The steel-cold sting catapulted Blair to her feet to turn at Greg.

“I’m sorry!”

Like taking an arrow to his blind spot, Greg gaped gobsmacked at Blair. “Huh?”

“I-I mean…! Me too! I’m…so angry all the time…! So, I…needed a stress-reliever without cavin’ someone’s skull in.” Blair stammered. “It worked… Even made a friend… And… And I acted so dickish to him! I’m sorry! I-”

“Whoa! Whoa! Hey… Calm down…” Skyler’s player exclaimed.

Bloodworth’s player froze in place.

“I think…” Greg chuckled shyly. “We both kind of acted like idiots.”

Blair soon echoed his chuckle. “Yeah… I guess we kinda did…”

The two absorbed the strangeness of the situation for about ten more minutes.

“So, what now…?” Greg asked.

“I-I dunno… I’m kinda wiped, honestly.” Blair muttered.

“You? Wiped? That’s a first.” Greg snickered.

Blair smirked back. “Oh, bite me. We both had a long day.”

“I don’t know…” Greg trailed teasingly. “I think I still have energy to make that Dread Sorcerer quest before-“

“Oh, hell no!” Blair shouted. “Yer crazy doin’ that without a partner!”

“Then I’m counting on you to not drop your axe on me in your sleep, Bloodworth.”

“Then you better hope a stray arrow doesn’t hit me in the shoulder, Pierce.”

The dynamic duo of adventurers smiled satisfied over the triumph of battle. This is what they lived for: the glory of combat, riches beyond comprehension, and friendship forged stronger than any armor.

Author's Note

It's "Ah-ha!" ideas like these that make me realize I really love writing. Most
of what I've been writing lately has felt like that, but this was the first idea where I feel like I'm realizing that fact.

The journey of Britomart is littered with situations laden with the theme of mistaken identities, such as the climactic duel between Britomart and Artegall, where both reconcile  their flaws and accept their love for each other despite the seemingly deceitful nature of their disguises. The tales are also littered with the typical Celtic fantasy that's so famous.

Mistaken identities reminded me of the potential of such misunderstandings in Massively Multiplayer Online Role-Playing Games, and those reminded me that many have Celtic fantasy influence, and so the idea flowed: our Britomart and Artegall, Blair Mallory and Greg Tyson, are socially-awkward teenagers who make themselves and their friendship little stronger after such a misunderstanding. The angle in the original story was love, but I noticed a lot of romantic elements in my previous stories, and so decided to mix it up by baring it down to friendship instead.

These two characters were constructed to be opposites and also parallels. Blair and Greg's names contain meanings with positions  to mimic their characters. "Blair" from "battlefield" and "Mallory" from "unlucky" for Blair's up-front public persona and unfortunate social status. "Greg" from "watchful" and "Tyson" from "firebrand" for Greg's detail-oriented and apprehensive nature, but with an inner resilience.

The game aspects of this write-up were some of my favorite additions, due to being able to get creative with fonts and symbols. Even our protagonists' character classes were created to reflect them as people: Faris Bloodworth is a warrior, and Skyler Pierce is an archer; a warrior does optimal damage up in the enemy's face, while archers would prefer to tackle a conflict from a distance; both complementary to their roles, yet total opposites of each other; and both often bear paltry defensive stats, which perfectly reflects their insecurities.

For loving the idea in the first place, the plot is what drove me mad: there were a few directions I wondered about taking these characters, but many either wouldn't fit with the ACCURSED CHARACTER LIMIT or just seemed unnatural to me. In the end, this seemed like the best direction under the pressing businesses I'm under at the moment, but I still can't help but feel like this could've been even more... Hopefully you guys like something about it.

Bibliography

Mythology & Folklore Faerie Queen - Britomart Unit, stories taken from Stories from the Faerie Queene by Mary Macleod

Reading Notes: Faerie Queen - Britomart Unit, Part B

(The joust between the Lord of the Tournament and the Knight of the Red Rose (dated 1840) by Hodgson, taken from Wikimedia Commons)

Personifications of emotions conjured by some magical force. A vivid idea, and a part of me can't help but wonder if they reflect the person who steps into the room, in this case: Britomart.

No explanation is given for them. Disappointing. Perhaps this is something to write about?

The Kingdom of Evil is an underground settlement, seemingly war-torn from ages long past and containing a great source of history within its walls. What happened to this kingdom?

A demon that could speak nothing but lies? I could write a story around that.

Mistaken identities are indeed a running element in these stories. Friendships being formed in the backdrop of opposing forces or viewpoints comes to mind when I see this.

Especially apparent between the climactic duel between Artegall, disguised as the Savage Knight, and the disguised Britomart.

Brainstorm! You know what mistaken identities reminds me of? The disparity in MMORPGs between a player's character and the player itself, leading to a slew of strange developments in real life, growing even stranger should that knowledge be made public...

What if the circumstances or world of Britomart's journey were an MMORPG?

All of a sudden that modernization idea sounds all the more tempting!

This entire journey was set off by destiny, because Merlin's mirror had foretold that Britomart would be brought to happiness by Artegall. As a cynically humorous food for thought, real life doesn't exactly have to play by destiny, nor does destiny have to take no for an answer.

The House of Care is an interesting chapter; we're introduced to the house of a blacksmith and his six assistants intensely focused on their work. Each assistant is more towering than the last, their hammers scaling up in size as well. No explanation is given for them, and they don't play much of a role, so I can't help but wonder what their stories are.

Bibliography

Mythology & Folklore Faerie Queen - Britomart Unit, stories taken from Stories from the Faerie Queene by Mary Macleod

Reading Notes: Faerie Queen - Britomart Unit, Part A

(Britomart by Walter Crane (1845-1915), taken from Wikimedia Commons)

This is likely my mind coming off of seeing Your Name recently, but the image of a possible lover Britomart sees sees in Merlin's mirror brings to mind the compelling tragedy of wishful lovers separated by an uncontrollable force.

Again with the lady knight characters. It would be pleasing if I could do a follow-up story to Maiden Steel, but let's consider original options as well.

What if love were not guiding Britomart's quest, but another emotion? Revenge? Fear? Grief?

Arthur and Guyon are hardly in these stories, gone not even halfway into the second chapter.

Britomart's pursuit of Artegall seems a bit rash. Though she hears of his greatness from others, she still rushes off to pursue someone she has never met nor has any personal connection to.

A modernization of this could be enticing. I have a mental picture of Britomart as a street fighter rather than a knight, after seeing her duel with the six knights.

After Britomart looked into the mirror, shew grew ill, pale, and lost a great measure of her positive emotions. It's almost as if the mirror placed a curse upon her. For further matter, with no method to track Artegall and an uncertain future, it begs the question if the end of the quest is worth the means, or if the end exists at all.

If the end exists, then what if Artegall is not at all what Britomart had hoped for? What would she do?

Britomart's Quest describes the entire country being disturbed by war. A country like that is hardly safe for anyone who is not armed. What sort of chaos lies outside of the safety of the towns and cities?

And of course there's mention of a dragon here. Always gotta have one in Celtic tales, eh?

Mysterious tower... What lies within? Granted it might be revealed in the next half of the reading, but making my own outcome is fun as well.

Bibliography

Mythology & Folklore Faerie Queen - Britomart Unit, stories taken from Stories from the Faerie Queene by Mary Macleod

Week 11 Story: Maiden Steel

“7:00 a.m.: Shower and dress...”

“7:20 a.m.: Wake Beaumont family... Gently…”

“7:40 a.m.: Assign daily duties. Objections receive one hour of mandatory stable duty...”

“8:00 a.m.: Prepare breakfast...”

“8:30 to 11:30 a.m.: Monitor maids...then bring Lady Giselle her afternoon tea: chamomile, two…three sugars? No, no, definitely two... Shaken...or was it stirred...? Ooh...”

The alabaster spires of House Beaumont betrayed cacophony within its walls. While Master and Mistress Beaumont oversaw their subjects, servants scampered to keep their abode spick and span.

Head maid Alanna von Carlisle’s tall, young frame hurried down the halls and rushed along the red carpeting, hefting a tray of tea and biscuits carefully. Her brunette ponytail, navy dress and white apron a blur as she approached the gardens.

(Hever castle with rose garden by Graham Bould, taken from Wikimedia Commons)

Light poured onto the bushes and blooms, a small table among them. Sitting there, a young lady. A ruby dress adorned her petite stature, ash blonde tresses framing a doe-eyed face. Hearing Alanna approach, the woman turned, surprised.

“Goodness! Alanna!” She gasped. “You’re exhausted! Would you like a seat?”

Alanna huffed as she sat the tray down. “No concern…Lady Giselle… Merely some…’mishaps’ on dishwashing detail and the occasional…miscommunication.”

“Are the other maids chastising you, again?” Giselle sighed.

“… What others think of me poses no risk to my job.” Alanna replied. “What does hamper my performance, however… Milady, why the armor?”

A strange uniform for maids, indeed; upon closer inspection, steel boots and spaulders, a breastplate, and leather gauntlets clashed against Alanna’s elegant attire.

The lady of the house smiled curiously. “Don’t you like it?”

“Whether I like it or not is irrelevant.” Alanna flatly stated.

The Beaumont daughter pouted. “I know when you’re not honest, Alanna!”

“I am honest when asking what the purpose is for a maid to wear armor.” Alanna said.

“Not the point!” Giselle retorted. “Remember when we were kids?”

Those words sent nostalgic shivers down Alanna’s spine, far away memories resurfacing.

Alanna is the sole child in the twelfth generation of the von Carlisle family, a lineage of knights sharing good relations and dedicated service to the Beaumont family for decades. In her childhood, she ardently engaged the teachings of her predecessors and fostered fervor to follow their footsteps.

Alanna knew Master Beaumont’s daughter even then; he would often bring her to play in town when visiting Alanna's father, retired from knighthood. The two girls became fast friends.

To strengthen ties between houses, Giselle was discussed for arranged marriage, though she had yet to come of age. Simultaneously, her noble status distanced her from commoner children, who considered her affairs above themselves, as taught by their parents.

Unfortunately for Alanna, cultural tradition held only men could become knights, leaving the poor girl receiving much ridicule among her neighbors’ children.

Even Giselle was skeptical at first meeting, eventually coming to respect Alanna's passion when she stood unfazed by Giselle's status. Similarly, Alanna sympathized with Giselle's loneliness.

Growing into adult responsibilities drew them apart, but they never forgot their friendship. However...

“Weren't you the one who requested I become your maid?” Alanna inquired.

“You wear that better than any maid or knight!” Giselle chirped.

“With the clumsiest feet...” Alanna muttered downcast.

Giselle’s turn to Alanna, concerned. “Alanna…”

“You and I both know I have never been good at household labor!” Alanna snapped. “Why hire a maid hardly worth her salt, more so appoint her as your head maid?!”

“That... Um... Well...” Giselle stammered off, averting her eyes.

“Milady...” Alanna clenched her brow, confused.

Lady and maid remained in silent standoff until the rustling leaves broke it.

“What was that?” Giselle cautiously asked.

The air blew stiff as Alanna and Giselle stood quiet.

“Milady! Stand back!” Alanna barked, shoving Giselle away. Within a flash, she drew a rapier hidden under her dress, screeching steel erupting.

A man garbed in dark clothes sprang from a nearby hedge, meeting Alanna’s rapier with his dagger. An assassin, most likely.

His eyes widened at seeing an armed maid, giving Alanna the perfect opportunity: With a flourish of her blade, Alanna disarmed the assailant and drew the tip to his chest.

“Listen closely...” Alanna growled. “Leave these premises immediately, otherwise I promise judgment will be dealt not by jury, but by my blade.”

Breathless and at blade point, the man quickly cowered through the foliage.

“Milady... Are you all right?” Alanna asked.

“Y-Yes...! Alanna, thank you! I knew you wore that the best!”

“Milady...” droned the maid, “We have been over this. I am-”

“You are more than my maid!” Giselle cried.

Alanna gawked at Giselle, “Huh...?”

The Beaumont lady began tearing up. “The more we grew up, growing apart... I-I couldn’t stand it, so...I...requested you to be my maid...”

“Milady, that...”

“Was wrong!” Giselle interrupted. “I felt so guilty! Ruining your dream...for such selfish reasons... I wanted to apologize, but was too afraid to say it upfront...”

“So...the armor...?” Alanna whispered.

“I...stole it from the armory. I thought it would show that being a maid doesn’t define who you are. But...I just made you feel worse...”

Alanna remained silent with an unreadable gaze. Giselle glanced guiltily toward the ground, noticing the tea had fallen over in the chaos.

 “I’ll...clean this up. You don’t have to anymore...” Giselle mumbled, reaching for the mess.

But was stopped by leather hands picking up the scattered teacup shards.

“Don’t touch broken glassware without gloves.” Alanna said.

“B-But, Alanna...! You don’t...!”

“It’s my duty to stand by you,” Alanna countered, picking up the tray, “my hands at your call...” she grasped the hilt of her rapier with her free hand, smiling at Giselle, “and my sword at your side.”

Giselle sniffled, slowly smiling, “Alanna...”

Alanna quickly bowed, “Apologies for my outbursts, milady. I will prepare more tea, posthaste.”

Giselle Beaumont beamed, wiping away her remaining tears. “Okay! But... one condition...”

The maid knight stared curiously, “Condition?”

“No more of that ‘Milady’ or ‘Lady Giselle’ stuff. Not when we’re alone. Just my name. Please?” Giselle requested.

A cheerful grin illuminated Alanna von Carlisle’s face. “Alright... Giselle.”

Author's Note

Today we interrupt your daily dose of supernatural shenanigans for a more down-to-earth story, once again written on inspiration from elements in the reading as a whole, rather than one specific story. One thing that stood out to me in The Mabinogion was shifting character roles, such as Pwyll and Arawn's switching kingdoms and Elphin's capture by Maelgwn. The character of Rhiannon and her conflicts regarding forced marriage and accusations of cannibalism forcing her to leave her home reminded me that I need to write more female protagonists.

With these in mind, I crafted Alanna and Giselle to interrogate two roles often found in fantasy: the knight and the princess. Alanna's conflict concerns the gender rigidity of knights and maids, with a message of society does not determine who you are. Giselle's life is a defiance on the glamors of princess life in the palace, with a message of bad results can come from good intentions. The lynchpin being the trust between the two friends being strong enough to learn these lessons, come to an understanding, and grow stronger for it.

Normally, I like to write vivid imagery into my stories, but the character-driven nature of the plot called for necessary trimming down to meet the word limit and keep the story vivid and sensible. The other challenge writing was writing the characters' backstory and interactions, as I didn't want one to seem totally in the right or wrong about the situation, nor did I want the progression of events to be stilted. It was challenging, but also one of my favorite subjects to tackle, with two of my favorite characters to create.

Alanna von Carlisle (car-lyle) was inspired by the "lady knight" vibes I got off of Rhiannon, aspects of her appearance in my head taking inspiration from characters with that aesthetic, such as Fiona Mayfield of Arcana Heart and Saber from Fate/stay Night. "Alanna" is a feminine corruption of "Alan," of which the meaning is uncertain, to play into her limbo between maid and knight. "Carlisle" stems from a city in northern England, of which previous meanings contained "stronghold of Lugus" and "fort" applied to it, to suggest her strong nature. "Von" is either used in German cases of nobility or a prepositional surname meaning "from" or "of" in cases of commoners. It has no significant meaning other than to make Alanna's name sound more distinctive, as well as a bit of a nod to the character of Valkenhayn R. Hellsing from the BlazBlue series of fighting games.

Giselle Beaumont appearance and initial demeanor stemmed from common elements of fictional princesses: beautiful, innocent, naive, emotional. This was done to make the ending and her backstory more of a contrast. "Giselle" derives from a Germanic word meaning "hostage" or "pledge," working twofold through both her and Alanna's backgrounds. Beaumont was chosen more out of a desire to find a pretty name to attach to Giselle's family, though I suppose it could also be an ironic thing considering what I set out to to do with the characters.

The plot initially had a confrontation with one of Giselle's suitors, but I could not write it into the story so that it seemed natural and stayed within the word limit, so it was trashed and replaced with the conflict with the assassin. I consider it a bit of a missed opportunity, honestly. Regardless, I enjoyed writing this one, and would love to revisit and expand on the world of our maid in shining armor.

Bibliography

Mythology & Folklore Mabinogion Pwyll & Taliesin Unit, translation by Lady Charlotte Guest

Reading Notes: Mabinogion Unit, Part B

(Buffoon playing a lute by Frans Hals (1582/1583-1666), taken from Wikimedia Commons)

Bards are highly revered in Taliesin's stories, honored for their linguistic capabilities, wide range of knowledge, and responsibilities as chroniclers of the kingdoms' endeavors.

Yet Taliesin has three accounts of bards, singing praises of true bards, and disappointment and scorn for the bards of Maelgwn's court, all with little to no basis to back it up.

What's worse, even if Taliesin claims corruption from other bards' singing, he does nothing to distinguish his singing from theirs. I honestly believe that Taliesin is just blowing hot air.

Are there other occupations that seem innocuous, but actually have a valuable role in a kingdom's structure. Servants like maids and butlers seem to be one, as are blacksmiths.

Elphin's wife exchanges places with a maid to prove his innocence by the difference in their ring fingers. Once again showing the exchange in roles plot device that I find interesting.

To be able to tell the future through song is a powerful boon indeed. What if songs sang could rather make certain events true rather than predict them?

While it was tyrannical of Maelgwn to imprison Elphin so quickly, Elphin was also a rather rude guest by boasting the superiority of his wife and bard.

A story centered on Maelgwn would be a welcome interpretation on the events of Taliesin's tales.

Taliesin's prediction of what is to befall Maelgwn sounds contradictory and vague. Who's to say he is not merely making all this shit up?

What's more, there is hardly any event after Taliesin's prose to indicate or prove his supposed powers of foresight.

A comedic take on this kind of character could make for good entertainment, displaying the danger and foolishness in trusting psychic powers.

There is an implied cycle of reincarnation and many lives lived in Taliesin's Reply. A bard or some other's spirit carried throughout time to do work for others speaks of some kind of epic quality.

Bibliography

Mythology & Folklore Mabinogion Pwyll & Taliesin Unit, translation by Lady Charlotte Guest

Reading Notes: Mabinogion Unit, Part A

(Portrait of Jeanne D'Arc by Andrew C.P. Haggard (1854-1923), taken from Wikimedia Commons)

The first story arc spans Pwyll Goes Hunting and In the Stead of Arawn, where both Pwyll and Arawn pose as each other (whether by magic or disguise is up to interpretation) and perform each other's duties for a year. I'm immediately reminded of body swap premises, which promise many comedic opportunities, especially when the two swappers are so radically different, be it in body or personality.

Or what if it weren't a story about two patriarchs, but two monarchs instead? Or a class swap between royalty and peasant?

I couldn't help but wonder if something could've gone even worse during the horseback chases in Pwyll and the Wondrous Lady. Of course, my mind turned to another fantastical creature: that of the horse variety.

Rhiannon, a badass  renegade princess refusing any attempts at arranged marriage. She just reminds me that I need to write more female protagonists.

Not to mention I've always loved the image of a lady knight. The role reversal image of a prince finding salvation in a literal iron maiden is quite an interesting one. Coupled with the idea of royalty's arranged marriage troubles, I see a new take on an old plot.

The cannibalistic plan to implicate Rhiannon for her son's disappearance is quite a visceral image. One could only imagine the suffering she went through that the story does not tell us.

A terrifying thought emerged to me: what if Rhiannon were never proved innocent? What if she held a deep vengeance within her due to being wronged? And what if that vengeance never died, even when she did?

Pwyll and Rhiannon's plot to humble and overcome Gwawl is insanely elaborate and shows great trust between the two characters. Can we take any of the previous ideas we have up above and combine them with this kind of premise as well?

Bibliography

Mythology & Folklore Mabinogion Pwyll & Taliesin Unit, translation by Lady Charlotte Guest