When writing a “swords and
sorcery” style fantasy like The Son of
Dark, it is very easy to let the sorcery overpower the swords. I’ve noticed
this trend in so many fantasies, and it isn’t necessarily a bad thing. For my
book, though, I wanted a more even playing field. I wanted magic to be ever
present, certainly, but when fight scenes came I didn’t want my non-magical
characters to be deadweight.
To make this work, I had to do
two things. First I had to build my magic system with weaknesses that
sword-users could take advantage of. Second, I had to write non-magical
characters who could still hold their own in a world full of magic.
In many ways the magic system
for The Son of Dark is very
traditional. For wizards, magic is performed through a language of power, and
the strength of the spell comes from the energy of the wizard’s soul. This has
its obvious disadvantages when fighting. It takes time to explain to the
elements around you that you want them to do something, and whether your spell
is offensive or defensive, time is something a swordsman isn’t going to give
you. The very versatility of language becomes a drawback. There are a hundred things
a wizard might say in response to a sword thrust. While all the possibilities
are crossing the wizard’s mind, his practiced opponent doesn’t need to think
deeply in order to deliver a killing blow with a sword.
Further, the wizard can’t
influence the swordsman directly with his magic.
The magic still has its bite,
though. Wizards can call swords to them or turn them against their opponents,
turn sand to glass and throw shards of it in all directions, or conjure flesh
onto dead bones to create terrifying allies. Dragons can possess humans, or
create a magical kind of fire that ignores flesh and cloth and burns the very
blood inside your veins. Thrown into this magical world are characters like
Zar, Morkin, and Largalarg.
Zar is easily the least magical
major character in The Son of Dark.
He’s a pirate turned merchant, and his most valuable asset in a fight against
magic is his quick decision-making. He takes in a situation quickly and
determines the best, most logical course. Before swords are drawn and spells
are spoken, he has often already leveled the playing field by changing the
environment to his advantage.
Morkin quickly becomes Zar’s
most trusted ally, in spite of a vague background and even vaguer motives. The
idea behind Morkin has always been that of a man who has turned a disability
into a weapon. He and his entire people are cursed with silence…they can
neither hear nor be heard. This silence extends to all human noises, including
footsteps, clapping, and breathing. As a result, Morkin has perfected a
ninja-like regimen of skills.
Largalarg, on the other hand,
is a ten-foot-tall troll known as a Grag. Grags are known for making good
non-magical mercenaries, and sure enough Largalarg serves as Zar’s personal
bodyguard. His weapon of choice is a ball and chain, and his superior size and
strength makes this a formidable choice indeed. Though impractical on a
medieval battlefield, I figured that in a one-on-ten fight, wielded by a
behemoth like Largalarg, a cannonball on a length of chain would be a sensible
option.
Balancing the world so that
characters like this could hold their own against magic-users was a personal
goal of mine as a writer, as I hope I can demonstrate with the excerpt below.
Excerpt from The Son of Dark:
Marga
pointed to the south. Zar didn’t turn, but he heard a gasp of recognition from
Skel.
“Aja-aja,”
he said with concern. “Three of them, about two miles away.”
Zar
sighed in trepidation. The aja-aja were rare, enormous snakes prowling the
Eltar plains, preying on elephants and any herders foolish enough to attack
them. They had three heads each and stocky, powerful bodies to match, and could
grow to over forty feet long. They killed and then predigested their prey by
spitting streams of corrosive poison from their mouths.
“The
aja-aja will be no problem,” he bluffed, staring into Marga’s eyes. “I have two
magic-users with me now, a wizard and a Phage. They’re perfectly capable of
dispatching a few overgrown snakes.”
“If
so, then I’ll simply have to wait longer to be reunited with my precious one,”
the
Wyvern said, eyeing the flattened snake corpses around her.
Something
inside Zar began to burn like a fuse at the words “precious one.”
“You
knew her before, I presume,” he continued, his voice much quieter. “Before you
kidnapped her, I mean, and took over her mind.”
“She
was mine to take,” the Wyvern retorted through Marga’s lips. “She was always
mine to take.”
The
last words hissed from Marga’s mouth like a challenge. Zar’s fingers wrapped
around his sword’s hilt. He wanted nothing more at this moment than a way to
strike at
his
enemy, but the Wyvern was far, far away.
“If
you want her,” Zar said, “you’ll have to kill me.”
“Too
risky,” the Wyvern replied. “You crave nothing more than to die for her. To
kill you might break my grip.”
“If
you don’t kill me she will never truly be yours,” Zar said. He walked to within
an arm’s length of her. “As long as there’s breath in me, I will always be
fighting to free
her.”
“I’m
sure you mean that,” the Wyvern said. “Once you’re dead, there’s nothing to
stop me from singing her back to me.”
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