Monday, December 19, 2005
Setting Thoughts
I see a planet thats flat. On each side is a world. No one from either side has ever ventured past the end of the earth, except for lone explorers who are lost to the annals of history. Each thinks that they are alone on a flat earth.
One side, the side that tends to face towards the sun, is a world of lush forests, deep jungles and broad, sparkling oceans. The civilizations that have arisen are rich in woods and ores, and enjoy a diversity of plant and animal life on the majority of the large islands that make up a global archipelago.
Political divisions tend to be along the lines of the tides, and which clusters of islands use the same part of the sea for fish and trades. There is an ever-shifting system of alliances and agreements among the merchant-nations. Between these states exist independent isles, undiscovered archipelagos and the odd pirate federation, drifting on the tides in a network of lashed-together ships and detritus, feeding off of all that comes their way.
At the center of the sea is a giant whirlpool, a vortex that no man has ever been known to return from alive. Getting within mere miles is enough to feel its pull, and many a ship has been lost to its irrestable swirl. At the edges of the earth, the sea pours off a knife-edge between the water and the stars.
The other side of this planet, the side facing away from the sun for much of it's year, is a colder, crueler place. A world of rocky mountains, glaciers and barren tundra, its people organize themselves under fierce warlords and self-proclaimed prophets. This world has much in the way of precious metals and gems, but the pockets of more usable resources are fiercely contested.
In the midst of these wastelands, a handful of glittering cities have arisen, heated by underground pockets of molten magma and hot gases. These principalities revel in their riches, even while trying to bring the most powerful of the warlords and most holy of the prophets under their sway. The arts reign supreme, with a well-crafted portrayal of a ruler being his greatest compliment. By the same token, the harsh words of a few respected critics can bring the city to its knees.
At the center of this world lies it's icy heart, an ever-shifting frozen geyser endlessly pushing the glaciers outwards and outwards. Legends tell of great riches and buried secrets in the heart of the ice, but none have returned from such an adventure. On the edges of the world, a deafening roar eclipses the hearing as a dense mist erases sight. It is said that those who venture too far into the mists are lost, forever.
This is as it has been for centuries. But now, something is changing. The seafarers of the top side have detected changing currents, and some say that the islands themselves are starting to move. Explorers on the bottom side report that the glaciers are moving faster and staying frozen longer, and the frozen geyser is getting larger and larger. And, on both sides, reports come from the remote corners of the world that strange things have began to emerge from the center of the earth....
One side, the side that tends to face towards the sun, is a world of lush forests, deep jungles and broad, sparkling oceans. The civilizations that have arisen are rich in woods and ores, and enjoy a diversity of plant and animal life on the majority of the large islands that make up a global archipelago.
Political divisions tend to be along the lines of the tides, and which clusters of islands use the same part of the sea for fish and trades. There is an ever-shifting system of alliances and agreements among the merchant-nations. Between these states exist independent isles, undiscovered archipelagos and the odd pirate federation, drifting on the tides in a network of lashed-together ships and detritus, feeding off of all that comes their way.
At the center of the sea is a giant whirlpool, a vortex that no man has ever been known to return from alive. Getting within mere miles is enough to feel its pull, and many a ship has been lost to its irrestable swirl. At the edges of the earth, the sea pours off a knife-edge between the water and the stars.
The other side of this planet, the side facing away from the sun for much of it's year, is a colder, crueler place. A world of rocky mountains, glaciers and barren tundra, its people organize themselves under fierce warlords and self-proclaimed prophets. This world has much in the way of precious metals and gems, but the pockets of more usable resources are fiercely contested.
In the midst of these wastelands, a handful of glittering cities have arisen, heated by underground pockets of molten magma and hot gases. These principalities revel in their riches, even while trying to bring the most powerful of the warlords and most holy of the prophets under their sway. The arts reign supreme, with a well-crafted portrayal of a ruler being his greatest compliment. By the same token, the harsh words of a few respected critics can bring the city to its knees.
At the center of this world lies it's icy heart, an ever-shifting frozen geyser endlessly pushing the glaciers outwards and outwards. Legends tell of great riches and buried secrets in the heart of the ice, but none have returned from such an adventure. On the edges of the world, a deafening roar eclipses the hearing as a dense mist erases sight. It is said that those who venture too far into the mists are lost, forever.
This is as it has been for centuries. But now, something is changing. The seafarers of the top side have detected changing currents, and some say that the islands themselves are starting to move. Explorers on the bottom side report that the glaciers are moving faster and staying frozen longer, and the frozen geyser is getting larger and larger. And, on both sides, reports come from the remote corners of the world that strange things have began to emerge from the center of the earth....
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I dunno. Where does water come from? Condense from the atmosphere at some point? I'm not a scientist, man!
I imagine that theres underground reservoirs as well.
If you mean at the edges - well, I imagine that the water from the top rolls over, hits the edges of some kind of gravity well and bursts into spray, which makes the fog on the bottom side. Maybe theres a river at the very edge of the bottom side that the water falls into once it condenses, which feeds into the underground reservoirs, which feed the seas on the top side.
Or, like, whatever. It's a fantasy setting, maybe its magic.
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I imagine that theres underground reservoirs as well.
If you mean at the edges - well, I imagine that the water from the top rolls over, hits the edges of some kind of gravity well and bursts into spray, which makes the fog on the bottom side. Maybe theres a river at the very edge of the bottom side that the water falls into once it condenses, which feeds into the underground reservoirs, which feed the seas on the top side.
Or, like, whatever. It's a fantasy setting, maybe its magic.
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