Tag: The Warder

Channelling Rage in SFF

Sunshine in March, while in the novel, character arcs are grappling with some big emotions. It’s a topic I look forward to speaking on at this year’s Eastercon coming soon to Belfast, in particular, the ways in which we can deal with anger and rage in our plot lines. We’re familiar with anger leading to the dark side – Anakin Skywalker in Revenge of the Sith, Harvey Dent in The Dark Knight, and Magneto in the 2000 movie X-Men – anger and rage rooted in fear that leads them down a path of no return. But is this end inevitable, and how else might we explore this powerful emotion?

My fantasy series, Blood Gift Chronicles, begins in a patriarchal world with wealth inequalities, environmental destruction, and gender based violence. The stories work to fight back against those power structures to work towards environmental and social justice. There are a number of protagonists and antagonists, with varied responses to their context, and various ways in which power and strength are defined. Among the protagonists, I subvert gender expectation, breaking the notion of traditional gender roles, and incorporate themes of identity, mental health, and being true to oneself. I have a female character who has been subjected to cruelty, and responds by becoming an assassin. I have another female character who has also been subjected to cruelty, and instead looks to community and connection, working together for peace and justice. I have a male character who expresses his rage inwardly, a path of self-destruction whereby he becomes his own antagonist for a while. And I have characters who express rage outwardly, in so far as a physical transformation with far-reaching consequences. The difference is around context, and explores the power of support and breaking social isolation, as well as the need for community, connectivity and shared values. If anger is rooted in fear, it’s interesting to consider what might be able to disrupt the fear to produce a different response. It’s also interesting to see what happens when this doesn’t work, if only as a warning of what can happen if we can’t fix things.

I recently read The Deep by Rivers Solomon, a stirring novella inspired by the real-life African slave trade. In the story there are water dwelling descendants of pregnant African slave women, who were tragically thrown overboard into the ocean. The offspring of these descendants are called Wajinru, and were born breathing water as they did in the womb. Whales were their second mothers, who fed them, bonded with them, and took them to the deepest parts of the ocean where they could be safe. They made their home on the seabed, where the trauma faced by their ancestors is forgotten by everyone except for Yetu, the historian and keeper of memories. She’s forced to dull her own senses to save being overwhelmed by the traumas of history, and it’s only at the Remembrance where she can find peace. Because it’s at this ceremony where the whole gathering holds the memories, affording her some respite. But when the ceremony is over, memories are returned to her, since those memories are so intense and tragic, only the historian is able to shoulder the burden. But the burden is wearing her down, and so at the next Remembrance, Yetu runs away, abandoning her kin to save herself.

This character has got real ragged emotions, filled with rage, pain, guilt and frustration. The memories were killing her, yet there is also no peace for her having left her family and community behind. Themes of identity and belonging are explored, as well as personal and communal responsibility in tackling the big stuff.

Which leads me back to the world in my own work-in-progress, and a centuries long rage with far reaching consequences and seismic hope.

Meanwhile, on a different note, in the real world, a visit to the Valley of Rocks for some heady North Devon coastal heights.

The mountain goats were hiding though their reputation proceeds them, rebel goats known for head-butting sheep right off the slopes, and dividing the town with their rebel antics… I did meet a Pyrenees mountain dog, a gentle giant whose presence was reassuring at a place of dizzying heights. The door was intriguing and should come with the warning sticker, ‘Do Not Enter,’ because to do so involves falling off a cliff. It is a place of imagination and stories, abound with pixie folklore, a place of scattered rocks randomly strewn as though tossed by giant hands. And it was a wonderful breath of fresh air…

xxx

Wintry Reflections

As winter draws to a close, February has been living up to its old English name this year, as ‘Mud Month’, with wind and rain abound here in the UK. The month has also flown by, soon to march into March, and work has been a flurry. My work in progress novel, Book 3 of Blood Gift Chronicles, is a constantly inspiring feature of my days. We venture to new realms, uncover the mystery of dragons, explore the source of power, and discover the truth at the core of the protagonists. Faced with catastrophe, will they survive, or will they thrive? Plus, I’m reminded of the sweetness of a true homecoming, as well as time to pause and reflect on the true nature of dragons, the diversity of dragons, what they reflect, and how far our inventions can take us. I’m enjoying focusing in on all that dragons can reveal, about our personal landscapes, and the wider world, as well as wider themes of nature, our connection to the environment, and self-exploration as characters seek pathways to peace, and dare to live true to themselves.The genres repeatedly show us the world as we know it, reflected with added colour and dimension.

As well as my novel, there’s short fiction on the horizon too. And my reading list continues to expand faster than I can read. Fortunately, the sight of crammed bookshelves is a joy. As we move out of February’s LGBTQ+ history month, and into International Women’s week in March, here are just a few titles that have joined my recent reads.

The Magic Fish, by Trung Le Nguyen; Birthday of the World, by Ursula Le Guin; Fire Logic, by Laurie Marks; The Jasmine Throne, by Tasha Suri; In The Vanisher’s Palace, by Aliette de Bodard; Different For Boys, by Patrick Ness; The Left Hand of Darkness, by Ursula Le Guin; The Four Profound Weaves, by R.B. Lemberg; The Unbroken, by C.L.Clarke; Empress of Salt and Fortune, by Nghi Vo. And my own, Blood Gift Chronicles.

A trip coming soon approaches with great anticipation. This year’s Eastercon will be celebrated Belfast style, and so I look forward to venturing to Northern Ireland in April, immersed in convention life with all the latest in the world of SFF. Of course it would be remiss not to take the time to venture into Game of Thrones territory, as well as visit some renowned sights of a beautiful country. And so an extended trip awaits.

In the meantime, time for a spot of R&R closer to home, and sheltering from the stormy weather at Saltram house, where ornate faces watch from labyrinth walls, and blooming snowdrops and hellebores hold their own despite the battering wind and rain.

For now the sun is peeking out, and so time for a breath of fresh air, before returning to the next writing instalment. Wishing everyone a great day.

Happy New Year 2025!!

January 1st 2025: the sky is grey, and outside sways in blustering winds. Inside, time to ponder days gone by and look ahead to footsteps new. And somewhere between the ruminating and the planning, time to pause.

New Year’s Eve was spent painting, while outside, intermittent fireworks dotted the skies. More on my current work-in-progress painting another time, but several other artworks came to fruition in 2024, inspired by visited waterscapes, lily ponds in particular. The first is from The Lost Gardens of Heligan, with a touch of magic added, a place where bush and tree crowd busy pools and giant pads weave sturdy, watery webs.

The second is a woven piece, part landscape, part imagination, and with a nod to the many heron sightings the year blessed me with.

And the third place, a lily pond mosaic, pools of interconnectedness with thanks to the communities that feel like home.

In the world of writing, it’s been wonderful to meet new readers at various events, as well as catch up with fellow writers who offer so much to inspire. WorldCon in Glasgow, the 82nd World Science Fiction Convention, was a highlight, taking part in panel discussions, and seeing the live interview of Nnedi Okorafor, an author who brings Africanfuturism and Africanjujuism into the hearts of our home.

 

Publishing news for 2024 included an article in FOCUS, The British Science Fiction Association Magazine for Writers, and it was great to grab my copy at WorldCon.

Next stop, and I’m looking forward to doing it all over again in April for Eastercon, Belfast style.

And while the edits continue for my next novel, Book 3 of Blood Gift Chronicles…

Time to pause for a breath of fresh air, and the magic of Dartmoor, among ancient oaks, mossy boulders, misty woods and granite tops.

Wishing everyone and happy and peaceful New Year 2025!

xxx

Lights of Winter Solstice

Winter solstice, and while around the world, festivals celebrate the wonder of light, the long night invites us to rest and restore. As each moment brings us closer to the sun again, the promise of spring lies in wait, and we quietly await our own transformations as, through rest, our fires re-ignite.

The process of writing is a reminder of the power of rebirth, creating, recreating, and spawning miracles when it seems as though the light is dim. Fantasy fiction breathes tales of light and dark, percolating energies to exude them anew.

‘Only in silence the word, only in dark the light, only in dying life: bright the hawk’s flight on the empty sky.’

Ursula K. Le Guin, The Creation of Ea.

In my current work in progress, Book 3 of Blood Gift Chronicles, elemental magic explores processes of transformation, magic that is littered with different forms of light: from the fires of a dragon’s breath, to mysterious lights ocean deep, to Suni’s crystal that sees her through. And, behind the light lie themes of dormancy and hibernation, in the creatures, the weather, and the personal journeys of courage and hope.

‘To light a candle, is to cast a shadow.’ Ursula K. Le Guin.

Stories light the spark of inspiration, in writing as in life. My current read offers the perfect tonic for a cold, dark winter’s night. And for anyone yet to be introduced to Sarah Ash, I would highly recommend her worlds of epic fantasy. Sarah’s books fuse a perfect blend of everything we love of traditional fantasy tales spanning the continent and beyond, with prose that binds us to the page, leading us into colourful worlds and characters that frighten, amaze, appal, and inspire. I love the plethora of shades that Sarah brings to her work, and the characters that steal our hearts. Kiukiu is currently stealing mine, her and the Snow Lord snow owl she saves, that just might return the favour…

And while writing and reading continue, every once in a while it’s time to step outside for a big breath of fresh air. Winter lights are always a delight…

… as is seeing the sights of nature. A visit to Seaton’s sprawling wetlands was a tonic, a place of natural lines of reed beds and waterways, preserved and conserved by local wildlife agencies. From redshanks to curlews to shelducks, increasing numbers of birds are flying in from distant shores to overwinter, feeding on ample crustaceans that provide fertile feeding ground on the stretching sandbanks, watched over by the resident peregrine roosting up high, and a passing flock of clacking and chatting Canada Geese, slowing fading as they fly on by, restoring the ambience of rushing reeds swaying in the breeze. A tonic.

And as the sun fades over glassy water, more light shifts and forms, glows and fades into slumber, before rising to start a new day.

And on this new day, I return to the edits, a perfect process of transformation, renewing, layering, finding the spark to brings words to life. I know what’s coming, it’s an edit after all, but anticipation still brews for the big awakening.

Wishing everyone a light filled winter, and blessings for a very Happy Festive Season, and above all, peace.

‘May it be a light to you in dark places, when all other lights go out.’ JRR Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring.

xxx

For the Love of Dragons

Writing is well under way for Book 3 of Blood Gift Chronicles. While living alongside characters who inspire me daily, I am also immersed in wildlife and dragons as I forge journeys through land, sea and sky. It’s everything I love about fantasy fiction, grounded in relatable experiences, whilst offering inspiration, colour and magic; against a backdrop of danger. There is everything to lose and everything to gain, when we embrace the truth of our identity, and look to freedom. Flight offers the ultimate in freedom, in the skies, or swimming in oceans deep. And so I look to dragons, of different kinds.

I recently received a gift through the post, a gorgeous postcard featuring the Maeshowe dragon, an intriguing and playful image, ancient graffiti left behind in the Neolithic tomb of Orkney, etched by visiting Norsemen. I love the idea of mythical creatures just waiting to be re-awakened. And I love a new book just waiting to be opened, like my recent purchase, Fathomfolk by Eliza Chan, a title I’ve had my eye on for some time now – sirens, sea witches, kelpies, and a deep dive into Japanese folklore with kappas and eastern dragons, what’s not to love.

And so what is the draw to the ever popular dragon?

‘Beyond this place, there be dragons,’ the old map makers used to say…

Fantasy requires us to take a leap of faith and step into the unknown, to render our desire for control and open ourself up to a different possibility. The fact we enjoy the genre suggests we’re looking for that kind of adventure. What better way than with creatures that can take flight or disappear into the deepest oceans, that can shape-shift, have intelligence and speak many tongues, that teach us humility, less we choose the path of destruction, or create opportunity to unite behind a common enemy – if a dragon can wipe out an entire army, it will take more than an army to defeat one. Whatever purpose they serve, they tip us well beyond the threshold of the familiar, transcend to a point of no return.

‘I do not care what comes after; I have seen dragons dancing on the morning winds,’ Ursula Le Guin.

They are also weirdly relatable, since we grow up learning about the giants of history, aka dinosaurs. And of course we know lizards, and there are those that can fly. Flying lizards appear in my WIP novel, and this photograph has been my screensaver for some time, as pointed out by my paper-mache version, companion of the book table.

The feelings that dragons can invoke are also relatable to contemporary issues of climate change, habitat loss and depletion of the species. Ann McCaffery’s dragons are literally allies in the fight against climate change. More subtle, the mysticism in Ursula Le Guin’s dragons in Tales of Earthsea explore the possibility of extinction from the world we know, melancholy at the thought of dragons flying the other wind, leaving behind a world without dragons, a world without the majestic mystery of this awe-inspiring other-worldly magic.

In my series, Blood Gift Chronicles, the theme of power is explored through the hard magic of traditional fire breathers, and the soft magic of water dragons. One power will out, which one, you’ll have to find out, but the aim was never to rid the world of dragons, but rather lean into creation. Exploring these internal and external worlds, opening ourselves up to perspectives of air and sea, considering the power of the otherworldly, gives a vast overview of the world that only dragons can bring. It’s a fly high, and a deep dive, battling internal struggles, fighting powers in a bid for freedom, with the question, if you have fought a dragon, is there any turning back?

Landscape credit to the coastline of Hartlands, where lies a partly submerged, rocky dragon.

The Art of Visual Narrative

A break in the rain sees a burst of crisp autumn sun and the promise of colder times to come, perfect for getting lost in my WIP, Book 3 of Blood Gift Chronicles, adding layers to an expanding world, and (currently) spending time with a character who’s a true survivor and an inspiration – it feels like weaving magic.

But for now, following a breath of fresh air, time to ponder the subject of visual writing, as promised in my last blog. It’s a subject that came up in a panel topic I took part in in August, at Worldcon 2024 in Glasgow, and was of particular interest for me to consider alongside also being an artist: visual imagery and colour are important to me, as well as the process of telling stories through various mediums including narrative, art and poetry.

But to start, what do we mean by visual writing?

Put simply, visual writing brings narrative to life in a way that forges connections with the reader, evoking an emotional and visual response that triggers a mental image in the mind of the reader. There are various aspects to consider, including characterisation.

Believable characters are the heart of the story, through which readers connect with both the story and the author. We need characters that readers can connect to, characters that inspire, intrigue, excite or frighten, or that we can empathise with and relate to. We need them to leap off the page, and so as writers we need to know them, their history and backstory, their strengths and flaws, what motivates them, what challenges them, how they express themselves. Social context and power structures inform how characters move through the world and what freedoms they have. Someone in a high ranking position might have freedom to speak up, someone in a low ranking position might have to stay silent. In my novels I have a character who’s impulsive and overconfident to the point of being reckless; a character who is misunderstood, powerful, burdened, and courageous; a character filled with self-doubt who evolves into a steady leader; a character whose inner struggles go unnoticed and it almost costs him his life.

I reveal the internal worlds and emotional landscapes, highlighting what is at stake within the drama. The psychological dimension is a hook for the reader, while taking care to describe just enough to maintain pace. At the beginning of The Warder (Blood Gift Chronicles Book 2), an early scene involves a girl who sees a dragon in the mountains, and consequently sees and feels herself burning in its fire. And then she realises that there is no dragon. Another character sees her appearing crazed. I allow the reader space to reflect on the girl’s traumatic confusion, and what the consequences might be, rather than attempting to over-describe and explain, which would have unnecessarily slowed the pace.

And lastly, the environment. Within my fantasy series, I move through mystical deserts, rugged mountains, lush forests, and I’m careful to describe just enough to support the scene from the viewpoint of the character in the scene. I have a character who is intimately connected with animals, and so sees the world around him through his connection with wildlife. I have characters who see things in shadows, and so their perspective has another dimension to focus on, and a whole different mood. I have a character who’s very connected to her ancestors, and so looks for experiences they may have had. And a character in book 3 that I’m still working on, and we’re moving into the realms of shapeshifting, which completely alters the perspective. Each environment, scene, and character have their own mood, colour palette and tone, (maybe it’s the artist in me). It’s interesting to switch between contrasting scenes, switching colour and mood in a way that livens up the narrative, bringing it to life for the reader. Overall, as readers, what we find visually and emotionally evocative will differ, and what is mentally thought-provoking will be dependent on our interests.

And so, I will leave you with just a few recommendations that I found visually and emotionally evocative, memorable stories that left that all important lasting impact.

What are you reading?

Worldcon 2024

At last, time to sit back and reflect on a very special trip in August, all the way to Glasgow 2024, A Worldcon for Our Futures. This was the 82nd World Science Fiction Convention brought to Scotland, and what an inspiring few days it was.

Worlds within worlds took shape in imaginative architecture nestled alongside the river Clyde, a wonderful place to take a break and reflect, with time enough for a stroll downstream and castaway on the Tall Ship, Glenlee, delving into the truly extraordinary stories of life on board sea voyages not for the faint-hearted. Research comes in many forms for writers, and immersed in the ship’s atmosphere, I let my imagination wander to an incredible journey one character of mine is forced to make. But my work-in-progress novel is another story.

 

 

Back to the convention and it was great to catch up with familiar faces, meet new people, and take part in panel discussions examining the length and breadth of these fascinating genres.

It was a pleasure exploring the connection between being an artist and a storyteller, discussing the process of being a visual writer and storytelling artist, and how the visual, and narrative, blend into a similar space, all through interwoven creative mediums. Surrounded by so much colour, there was a lot to inspire.

More on visual writing another time, but one very special guest of honour, a current favourite author of mine, Nnedi Okorafor, is a writer whose work I find particularly visual – colourful, striking and memorable. It was a wonderful opportunity to see her interviewed in person, to put a face to words I have poured over. A pioneer in many ways, her personal story is inspiring, as is all she continues to achieve through her work, a woman who stayed true to herself and her convictions, who defied genre (or at least white-centric, first world genre norms), and in doing so, we are treated with Africanfuturism and Africanjujuism. I find her work to be unapologetic, strong, colourful and pushing boundaries in exploring a vibrant world.

Another panel I had the pleasure of joining explored diversity of a different kind, from queer triumphs to utopias and everything in-between. It’s a wonderfully explorative theme to consider, stories where marginalised people are being framed as the hero, getting to the heart of identity through looking closely at a character’s intersections, glancing back at history to support understanding, as well as imagining anew. Considering the interplay between stories and the real world, how one influences the other and vice versa, we need those new imaginings, and as a writer I work alongside my characters to see their hopes realised. Themes of identity, self-determination and empowerment feature in my work, since I find that conceptualising hope stems from steps taken towards our own authentic standing in the world. From awareness of our identity, we invest in contributing to others being able to flourish, including the natural world since our futures are entwined; we are a part of nature. It’s a familiar journey for me, one that my characters walk, as they explore collaboration, connectivity and shared values.

The dealers room was a joy. It was great to see piles of the British Science Fiction Association’s Magazine, Focus, where a recent article of mine is published, entitled Breaking Binaries of Good versus Bad in SFF.

 

And of course it was a wonderful chance to catch up with my publishers, the lovely folks of Stairwell Books, as well as pick up a few titles to come home with for my ever-expanding to-read pile.

And so to end with a question: what are you reading?

Nature’s Magic

Summer is here and through the mixed bag of rain and shine, it’s lovely to get out and about for a breath of fresh air at the river, where cygnets are hatching and the heron’s out fishing, and swallows fly ducking and diving over the reeds.

And in the River Otter, industrious beavers are building their damns. We were lucky enough to catch sight of one of these gorgeous creatures tucking into a well-earned dinner, and all thanks to Devon Wildlife Trust. DWT successfully pushed back against the UK government who had planned to have beavers removed from the river after a sighting of kits in 2008. After consultation, the first wild beaver re-introduction project began, starting with two family groups. These industrious creatures successfully began managing the waterway, and after evidencing the benefits to both people and wildlife, in 2020 the government announced Devon’s beavers could stay – and spread naturally into other river catchments. It was the first legally sanctioned reintroduction of an extinct native mammal to England. Currently there are 15 family groups estimated, and long may they continue to thrive.

An appreciation of wildlife extends into my fantasy series, Blood Gift Chronicles, with nature and magic entwining to form a luxurious backdrop. The natural world is more than a setting, it is a character, with moods, histories and qualities that can be bizarre, tragic, mysterious, frightening or inspiring. Once the backdrop is alive, I explore how the characters interact with it, and how it weaves its way into revealing culture, belief, and conflict.

The natural world is intrinsic in the worlds we create. It provides us with food and water, and air to breathe; it nurtures crops with rain and sun, offering herbs with medicinal properties; it is one of the reasons we are alive. I enjoy stories that invite us to reflect on our relationship with living things. While some stories portray characters with human-like traits, I prefer to work with a more realistic approach, and leave it up to the human characters to discover ways of forging connections with wildlife that is wild.

The first book in the series, Return of the Mantra, explores the idea of nature being personified against a backdrop of conflict. The young woman protagonist, Suni, explores contrasting environments, surviving to discover and forge her own identity which strengthens her fight for justice. Another significant character, a boy called Wanda, begins his mysterious journey in understanding his unique connection with wildlife. Through the series we see characters age and grow as the world expands, and revelations are explored through the connections characters have with the natural world. There is tenderness, wisdom, ferocity, devastation, and strength, through themes of self-determination, environmental justice, love, loss, and becoming. I particularly enjoy scenes of heightened empathy that express the significance of our relationship with the natural world. And in writing book 3 I’m enjoying the renewed strength that characters old and new bring, among wildlife that lets us know just how significant it truly is. In turn there is an exploration of what it means to be human, vulnerable and alive.

And now, back to the novel…

Wishing everyone a lovely week ahead…

Elemental Spring

Early spring passed mostly in a flurry of wind and rain, and plenty of time to stay indoors with Blood Gift Chronicles and the magical twists and turns and soaring heights of Book 3’s WIP. But every now and then the weather holds long enough for a trip outdoors to see a refreshing sight.

From the stately home of Knighthayes, watched over by Devon’s rolling hills, and marking a grand presence over sprawling gardens of giant trees and early blooming rhododendrons…

To the watery expanse of Fernworthy reservoir, where moss-covered woodland is a step in time with magical realms…

For work, a visit to the local radio station was a highlight, in recognition of International Women’s Day. No photos this year but a reminder of last year’s late show with the phenomenal Mama Tokus, and our wonderful host, Kerrie Seymour.

It was great to be able to return this year, contributing to the ambitious 24 hour radio take-over by Dreadnought South West, sharing poetry themed on IWD, and chatting about writing, books and all I have coming up this year, including WorldCon and an epic trip to Glasgow in the summer. I’m super excited for a jam-packed, SFF weekend, and a chance to meet up with my lovely publishers, Stairwell Books.

Closer to home and we’ve just emerged from a weekend book festival on the Hartland Coast.

It was blustery there too, but a great chance to visit the dragon rocks of Hartland (or at least that’s how I see them), in the lovely company of my wife. I wrote The Warder before ever visiting this place, and yet I spy familiar sights with dramatic rock faces, circling birds of prey, rugged paths, multi-toned wild gorse, and a distant island view – Lundy Island in real life. With a writing week ahead, I’m inspired.

And while the blustery wind and rain has returned today, so too has spring made an appearance.

Wishing everyone a good week ahead…

Stories Stories Everywhere

Comic Con, the perfect excuse for dipping into Somerset in February. As expected, it was a perfectly eclectic and colourful day. The fun at these events is infectious, and it’s inspiring to see stories embraced so whole-heartedly. And it was wonderful to be there with my fantasy series, Blood Gift Chronicles. As I meet new readers, it’s always a thrill to wonder what people will make of the stories, what parts might reach them and linger, which scenes will prove memorable. I’m also always happy to have my own character art with me on the journey, emboldening answers to what the stories are about – it is their story after all.

And of course, while in Somerset, why not take a trip to Wells Cathedral, which soared beyond expectation with its voluminous chambers and endless passageways. The outer walls encased in a stone labyrinth, are alive with flocks of roosting pigeons among other birds. Inside, stories upon stories unfold, of history, and of imagined possibility in this magical place. It is home to the second oldest clock in the world, which has the oldest working clock face in the world, which is a beautiful piece of art in its own right. To add further interest, we stumbled on an art exhibit, where old meets new in reconstructed wedding dresses raising money for local charities. Spying a rainbow flag in amongst the gowns was a bonus. And to top off a glorious visit, meet Basil the cat, who happily takes up residence in the gift shop, whenever he chooses.

To end the day, storybook scenes continue at nearby Bishop’s Palace, with a flagstone drawbridge and surrounding moat, where for centuries, swans have been trained to ring the bell at dinnertime…

And I’ll leave you with a story of a different kind, told in a memorable sculpture found at The Box, in Plymouth. The sculpture is entitled, ‘End of Empire’, depicting two figures with globe heads on a steam-punk seesaw in a symbol of Victorian industrialism. It’s fascinating to watch the slow-swinging seesaw, in a movement symbolising a rebalancing and move towards end of empire.

Ah, the power of stories… xx