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hero realizes everything is corrupt story
I've done it. I've killed him, the embodiment of evil, the cruel killer. I feel nothing, yet everything;pride, euphoria, emptiness. I somehow feel more like a puppet than I did when we would fight and he would let me go.
"Keep training little hero, maybe one day you'll be able to win." He ran off, back into the darkness in which he lurked. I hated him for that;he didn't kill me when he could have, yet he killed members of government with no remorse. Why.
I ponder that to this day, why? Why did he always let me live, why did he kill them, why do I understand? I shouldn't understand, it's my obligation to kill him, to save the nation. So why do I feel like the villian?
I killed him, but he's evil so it's ok, but I still took his life. That's all that has been going through my mind for the past few days, when I'm alone that is. When I'm in public, looking at all the people, it go's away. It all does. Every. Single. Regret. maybe that's why I'm evil, I killed someone, yet I don't care that he was right, I don't care that our government more corrupt, our people more cruel, than he ever was. All because of fame, because it's easier to be cruel with a smile than kind with a broken heart.
Nevermind. I can't just sit back and watch this who damned country laugh at his death, say he was cruel, that he deserved it. If he deserved it then the rest of us do to, ten times over. And if they're going to call me justice, then I'll be just that.
Justice. A twisted concept. I've killed every single person in that government, yet I still don't feel like I've done any favors. The nation is in disarray, yet they deserve it. I don't want to lead, and the only people who do shouldn't.
Theyre all dead, yet I still only grieve him. I've set every government building on fire without care for the living peope in them, yet I have the audacity to hate the people who vandalize the grave of a dead murderer.
Im the villain, yet I'm still more a hero than anyone else in this blasted nation. They whisper my name in fear because I've taken lives, yet I've saved more than any of them. They do nothing but expect others to save them, yet still ge tmad when thier savior is human, even if I was the perfect diety they'd hate me. That's what humanity always does, finds an idol then hates the idol for not living up to expectations.
Maybe I could have been the perfect hero, but if I was I'd be more a villain than the (ex) coruppt government, and I'd be worse than the complicit citizens. Because nomatter what, ill always be more than them, more of a hero, more of a villain. They need someone to hate, and ill be it. I'll make them hate me for the best reasons there are.
@ealyserose @whatsleep1
Sorry if this isn't good, I wrote it this evening, if you want I can write a more over view one with more backstory and details
Okay so you've asked a relatively simple question which obviously means that I need to overexplain and create an unnecessarily long "here's how I do this thing." So here's how I do this thing
Step 1: Tectonic plates. Just draw lines. They don't need to be good, they don't even need to make sense. I don't do geography or geology but drawing lines pretty randomly seems like what nature did.
Boom. tectonic plates.
Step 2: make a continent. There should be more continent along the tectonic plates, because that's where land gets pushed up. I like making lots of islands, I feel like it makes it pop. Otherwise, just squiggly lines
Ta-da, you have a continent. This is one big one, but feel free to make oceans and such.
Step 3: Mountains. Throw some foothills in there too. I make mountains as varying sizes of bottomless triangles, and if you want to make them stand out more you can make crest lines with shadows. Mountains should follow the tectonic plates, at least mostly.
You can see here that I ignored the left most line of the tectonic plates and threw some mountains in the south. For fun.
Step 4: Rivers and lakes. These should be based on the mountains, at least partially. Runoff from the mountains will create a lot of the rivers, and water will pool in valleys, creating lakes. These aren't the only sources of water, but they're kinda most of what I use
You can see some of the rivers weave in between the mountains, because they'll flow towards the lowest point. I don't usually put a whole lot down, just some of the big ones I might use
Step 5: Biomes. This includes all kinds of plains, deserts, swamps, jungles, etc. I usually use different brushes to make these happen, but I only really make maps digitally so I might not be the person to ask with regards to traditional art.
The north and south are going to be colder and have pine trees, while the center has a large desert because I wasn't sure what else to do with the area.
Step 6: Details. In this case, I put waves to separate ocean from land, and water buffers to make the land pop out more, especially with regards to lakes
Use as necessary
Step 7: Cities and towns. Not always necessary, depending. You might want to mark out kingdoms and territories, but I just did large towns and cities. Most of them should be near a water source, but it's fantasy so do whatever.
Here, I marked the "old world" cities with black, and the "New World" cities with red, because that was relevant to this specific story. I like to give them all names, but depending on map size that might not be practical.
Et voila! A map. Anyways thank you for coming to my ted talk. I use maps as a place to put the story I'm working on, and will usually draw a timeline on them to help me out. I make maps specifically because they help me with my writing, and they are crafted with that and only that in mind. I'm sure theres a published author or a geographer who could give better advice but you know what its fine.
So yeah. Tectonic plates.
anyone know how to simulate plate tectonics when creating a fantasy map
“Are you the witch who turned eleven princes into swans?”
The old woman stared at the figure on the front step of her cottage and considered her options. It was the kind of question usually backed up by a mob with meaningful torches, and it was the kind of question she tried to avoid.
Coming from a single dusty, tired housewife, it should’ve held no terrors.
“You a cop?”
The housewife twisted the hem of her apron. “No,” she muttered. “I’m a swan.”
A raven croaked somewhere in the woods. Wind whispered in the autumn leaves.
Then: “I think I can guess,” the old woman said slowly. “Husband stole your swan skin and forced you to marry him?”
A nod.
“And you can’t turn back into a swan until you find your skin again.”
A nod.
“But I reckon he’s hidden it, or burned it, or keeps it locked up so you can’t touch it.”
A tiny, miserable nod.
“And then you hear that old Granny Rothbart who lives out in the woods is really a batty old witch whose father taught her how to turn princes into swans,” the old woman sighed. “And you think, ‘Hey, stuff the old skin, I can just turn into a swan again this way.’
“But even if that was true – which I haven’t said if it is or if it isn’t – I’d say that I can only do it to make people miserable. I’m an awful person. I can’t do it out of the goodness of my heart. I have no goodness. I can’t use magic to make you feel better. I only wish I could.”
Another pause. “If I was a witch,” she added.
The housewife chewed the inside of her cheek. Then she drew herself up and, for the first time, looked the old woman in the eyes.
“Can you do it to make my husband miserable?”
The old woman considered her options. Then she pulled the wand out from the umbrella stand by the door. It was long, and silver, and a tiny glass swan with open wings stood perched on the tip.
“I can work with that,” said the witch.