Rokag the Rider

While building the world of Veiadokuur, I wanted to include myths, legends, and histories that the characters would know of and be able to reference. Actually writing these out made the task more interesting for me, and gives me something to do when I need to take a break from working on the main narrative. Plus it’s fun to write stories like this, where gods interact with mortals. I scratched this one out in basically one sitting at my parents’ house, then revised it when I typed it up later. I wish I’d gone a little further with Rokag the Rider’s legendary exploits, but this is an origin story more than anything; in Blackskull tales, Rokag appears again and again with their trusty steed.

Originally Posted: September 26, 2016
Word Count: ~2000
Rating: G
Warnings: None

When Rokag was born, Rek’gor was already an adult. The sister god still visited us in those days to share her wisdom and her stories, and give us insight into the workings of the world. She also stood present at each and every Blackskull birth, guiding the caretakers and the parents in the process. Rokag’s body was tiny—thin little arms, sunken eyes, and skin as thin as a crinkled leaf and ashen as the northern, icy fields. The weak cries the babe made hurt Rek’gor’s kind heart. After the birth, Rek’gor said to Rokag’s parents, “Come—let me hold your child.”

Rokag’s parents trusted Rek’gor completely, as all orcs do. They handed her their little loved one and Rek’gor embraced the child. Rokag stopped whimpering, warm and comfortable, and looked up into the goddess’ eyes.

“You wish to be stronger, don’t you?” Rek’gor said, speaking to Rokag’s heart of hearts. “Strong you shall be, young one. You can be anything you desire—here.” She touched Rokag’s chest with her great palm. Rokag’s skin darkened to the color of the most fertile soils, and after just one day, vitality flowed through the small one’s body. Rokag’s mother and father wept and thanked Rek’gor, who was only pleased to give their child health.

But something else changed about Rokag. (more…)

Bedtime Story

For the sake of having everything in one spot, here’s an older story I wrote about Agrat telling a bedtime story to his daughter, Rokag, about his adventures during our D&D campaigns. I enjoyed writing it–it’s mostly dialogue, which is my favorite part of writing–and it made for alright character development. Rokag started out as an infant in the campaign, then quickly aged up so I could play her in a later campaign, if desired. In retrospect, the world they’re in feels a little blank, probably because at the time I didn’t quite know exactly what the characters were doing in their home and work life, besides vague ideas. That, and I’m not satisfied with the ending. But ah well–it’s an exploratory sorta work anyway, so it did the job.

Originally Posted: August 10, 2016
Word Count: ~4200
Rating: G
Warnings: Some descriptions of gore–nothing too terrible.

Agrat carried Rokag with her flopped over his broad shoulder, her skinny legs dangling over his chest and her arms stretched out down his back. He kept one arm wrapped over her back, and the other around her knees.

“Alright, kiddo,” he said as they made their way upstairs together. “Time fer you t’ get some sleep.” Rokag groaned and thumped his back with her little fists.

“I’m not tired!” she said and writhed in an attempt to escape. Agrat chuckled and patted her. He creaked open the door to her room. Rokag’s had the smallest room in the house, but only hers had three windows. One was wider than the others, and set in the corner wall above a built-in bench that doubled as storage for her toys. However, she left most of them scattered on the floor. Her favorite was a soft boar Finn and Agrat made for her—he carved its facial features and its paws from wood, and Finn sewed its body, limbs, and head together. They stuffed it with wool. It had a few “scars” of its own from years of dragging it around, and she loved to compare it to both of them. Now that she was a little older, she mostly kept it in her room, but still treasured it dearly.

“What, y’ think you can trick yer old pops?” he said. “I saw you yawnin’ down there through yer nose. Come on—into bed with you.” He bent and laid her down, and Rokag crossed her arms while he tugged the blanket up to tuck her in.

(more…)