Harts Change - Scribbly Bit

| INTRODUCTION:
I liked this bit well enough the first few times but now I'm not happy with it.  That is to say there are a few wrinkles here and there which need to be smoothed out.  The priest stammering is wrong [1] and I really want Lady Lutin to have a larger part.

Of course the last time I said that I ended up tearing apart the church but this time It's early enough in the story that I can change things around without it affecting anything of consequence. 
Anyway, this piece is set near the end of Chapter 2 with all the narrativly important people journeying towards the Barons Mischance in the Royal City of Hermitage.  Due to the great change there are priests who have joined the caravan with their own wagons full of the dead which they are taking "down to the waters" which is just another series of rituals in a long series of rituals which ends up the bodies being taken to the Silver Mountain where the priests eat them[2].
So exactly why am I telling you all this?  It's all because the body of Evelyns son is in one of the priests wagons [3] and she isn't about to allow the holy crocodile to claim her son.

| NOTES: 

1. At least researching stutters and stammers isn't going to be as gruesome as researching amputation. :)
2. But, you know, in a sort of holy way.
3. Like so many others he didn't survive the great change which saw humanity become centaurs (but on the plus side everyone seems to have really long hair.  No baldies in my books!)

Harts Change - Some Scribbly Bits

|CONVERSATION AND MEETING BETWEEN THE PRIESTS:

[Scene: Chapter 3 Part ? - A few days after the entrance to Hermitage. Word of Evelyn's arrival has reached the ears of interested parties and many metaphors about waves, boats and motion are about to be applicable]

Characters:

Most Holy Mouth of the Great Crocodile – Da boss, the head honcho, The big C., The Crocfather. Have you ever had to work with someone who seemed to dedicated to bringing you down? That's this guy. He's got the power and the authority to bring the hammer down on people across the country, He'd like to be regarded as a caring father but his position in the church, coupled with his rather obnoxious nature has won him few real friends.
I'm still working on him though I don't think he'll ever have a very big part and yes he is based very much on someone that I used to work with.

Priest Rig – A priest who has begun to question the role of the church and is therefore a danger to the status quo. This meeting is just the beginning of his career as a character since I've already penciled him in as a leader of a sect who have turned away from the crocodile and begun to worship and study at the feet of Leonia, a champion of ancient legend..

Far away and removed from the hurly burly of the city there sits a room. It used to be a ballroom but needs must as the devil drives as they say and the long engraved table that now dominates the room shows that it has being usurped by something more important than dancing.

Of course a table suggest that people would use it and the council of the most holy shuffles in quietly and respectfully to take their places as is permitted by tradition. Some of them look will a slight longing at their comfortable chairs which are collected up in the corner of the room.but when the most holy mouth of the great crocodile coughs and bangs on the table to bring the meeting to order they quickly get down to it.

[nw: Right then, this intro is crap but it's actually supposed to be since I'm not exactly certain whereabouts this bit is going to go. I need to expand the meeting subjects and show the beginnings of the fracturing of the church. - this will be backed up later with the whole adoption angle in chapter 4 - To quote the bard: It's the dialogue of the thing thing wherein I'll catch the conscience of the king. I'll admit that it's strictly speaking accurate but then I'm not strictly speaking Shakespeare (barring some hitherto unknown reincarnation)]

“I thank you all for coming on such short notice” the most holy mouth begins I've called this meeting as there is a report that Evelyn Esteele has left her self imposed exile and returned to Hermitage”
At the end of the table one of the newer members cleared his throat “this isn't new. Far better to let this matter rest”

“Let it rest Rig? Until the girl returns to the rightous way of the great and holy crocodile we may not, can not, forget the insult that she has offered us”

“What insult is this most holy mouth? As I've heard the story she went through a great deal in order to save the man she loved and he for her. All very romantic but of no real insult to us”

“Priest Rig you are not recognised at this time” the old priest was terse but there you have it “Evelyn Esteele abandoned the church and offered great insult ot me, er, the priest who married them”

“As I heard it the priest who was involved in this took a rather substantial payment in return for his services. I would think that, whoever he is, he would want the issue forgotten” Rig smiled arrogantly “perhaps the insult is to him alone and the rest of us can forget about the whole affiar”

“To insult one of us is to insult all of us!” the holy mouth insisted vehimently

“Leaving all this insult business aside” an older priest broke into the argument “My brothers and sisters would it not simple be better to just ignore her? Evelyn Esteele has been disowned, Lady Trailin never lasted the night and Evelyn Oneeye is the personal guard of the Baron Lutin. As she is in the city to perform her duties I see no reason not to allow her to attend the Baronial Mischance and then leave Hermitage with her master”
“But”
“Well said. There are clearly more pressing issues to contend with at the moment”
“But”

“But what?” Priest Rig hit the wall loudly “But we need to gnaw at this bone just a little longer? But we need to destroy her so that everyone knows the terrible price of crossing the church? But what most holy?”

“I was about to point out that she's a wanted criminal with a substantial price on her head. In her wake she leaves chaos and death. She's only been in the city a few days and already several people have attempted to collect the reward. None of them have survived. I ask you all is this the sort of person that we want in the Royal City? The sort of person who should have access to the Beggar King himself?”
“Most holy mouth I can only agree with my revered teacher. She's not going out of her way to antagonize us and anyone who tries to claim a reward such as hers surely knows the price of failure already. In this matter we must follow her example”

“My student is right” the old priest said firmly “as emotional as ever, but right. We just leave her alone. No attacks, no sermons, just stay away and let it blow over”

The most holy mouth of the great crocodile looked around the room carefully before he answered “I'd like to do that very thing my brother. Just wave my hand and pretend that none of it ever happened but the fact remains that the insult to the church is something that can not be overlooked. An insul that Evelyn Esteele takes great pride in recounting and causing others to laugh at us and question our teachings. She influences everyone that hears her and if left unchecked she could easily be the catalyst that brings down the entire church”
“The entire church most holy? Clearly you overestimate her”
“Again priest Rig I remind you that your comments are out of order”
“And again I remind you that your own make no sense” Rig shook his head “It's obvious to everyone in this room that you've already made the decision concerning the woman. All you desire from this meeting is the justifiaction to act. I refuse to vote on this matter most holy” the large doors were already open by the time Rig and his supporters reached them “make of that what you will” he offered as a parting shot.

| ELSEWHERE:

[Scene: another meeting but not in the same place as before. This one is more urgent and goes at the end of Chapter 3 or at the start of Chapter 4.]

“Our next order of business, once again I might add, is the Esteele question”

“What is the Esteele question exactly?”

“Haven't you been listening to the pipers songs? She's managed to con her way into a place with the Kings own tinkers”
“Really. I hadn't heard of any Esteeles being appointed. The pipers I listen to told me her name was Oneeye”

“You know who I mean! And now shes a tinker to the king” the holy mouth stabbed his finger forward “We should do nothing you said! She'll be here and gone in a week you said! Care to explain yourself?”

Priest Rig didn't bother to look shamefaced “I don't see anything to worry about”
“You don't?”
“No I don't” Rig snapped “I really don't. She doesn't want to follow our teachings thats fine. Half the damned country is dead. The survivors are reaching out to us and we're just sitting on our hands while you pursue your vendetta against one woman? Holy mouth I demand to know where your priorities are” around the wide room there were the grumblings that may or may not have been support “I don't pretend to know the reasons why we were cursed with this but the fact of the matter is that our roads overflow with the bodies of the dead. The simple facts of the matter is that the holy crocodiles are stuffed full, the millers, pounders and inkers all report that they have no more room to handle the surplus. Perhaps we should take all this as a sign. Perhaps it is time to let our people in. Break open the Silver Mountain and feed the people as we feed upon them”
“Without the proper rituals?” the head priest sneered

“We can teach the people” Rig insisted “Show them that to take a person into yourself is to join them with the Holy Crocodile his own self”

| PRIEST RIG DEPARTS THE SILVER MOUNTAIN

[This takes place after Evelyn finds Tygens workbook.  Leonia reaches out to find someone and Priest Rig answers.  What does she want with him?  I suppose that he's just a means to an end but that isn't saying much because in Leonias opinion everyone is a means to an end.  This piece is now officially out of date but I'm keeping it around to show exactly how casual the cannibalism aspect has become.]

“Rig. Sit down” his master greeted him with cheer and poured the dark hearts blood personally rather than waiting for a servant “You're just in time for dinner”

The plates were passed around and he nibbled sparingly on ladies fingers coated in a particularly hot sauce while his old tutor piled his plate high with baby back ribs and choice cuts of meat.

“What news of your desmense?”

“Winter is hitting everyone hard” he admitted “between it and the war I wonder what will be left come the spring”

“You always did take everything to heart” the old priest said, delicately selected a larger one from the bowl “yet in the middle of all these happenings you are suddenly recalled back to the Silver Mountain”

Rig nodded cautiously “with no reason given either”he speared some passing sweet breads

“They need to spell out a reason? I thought I thought you better than that” the old priest swallowed down the pickled eyes, coughing a little at the bite of the brine

“What then have you heard?”

Their conversation was interrupted by the fiery ritual of the stomach. Rig noted that it was usually met with more respect than a gaggle of drunken priests

“What have I heard? Ah so many whispers surround this place and so many surround you. I may have heard something that indicated that the Grand Council, not being particularly pleased with your latest words, recalling you to Silver Mountain in order to rake you over the coals”

“My latest words? I've only been saying what people are thinking!”

“But you have been saying it. Where they have the sense to keep their mouths shut. From what I understand the council plan for you to be offered a small post where you may no longer be able to influence anyone”

“Look around! This ceremony was once a dignified and solemn event. We knew the lives and history of those we ate but for every priest now each meal is a banquet while everyone else in the country starves!”

“You overstate yourself. Nobody is starving”

“Its only a matter of time! What happened to us that we debauch ourselves like this?”

“You really need to ask? For whatever reason we were cursed with the turning and now our roads overflow with the bodies of the dead. The holy crocodiles are stuffed full, the millers,pounders and inkers are all reporting that they have no more room to handle the surplus. I've got three shifts of men stripping the bones for the birds but you know thats always a slow job and if we feed them too much we run the risk of one of the flock, or herd as it were, finding out about Silver Mountain and what goes on here”

“Perhaps this is a sign, perhaps it is time to let our people in. Break open the stores and feed the people as we feed upon them”

“Without the proper rituals?”

“We could teach them. Show them that to take someone into yourself is to join them with the Great Crocodile his own self”

The old priest shook his head “It wouldn't work” he proclaimed loudly “Embrace me and then leave my presence my student. I have nothing more to teach you”

The pair rose and clasped each other roughly

“I'm sorry to have disappointed you teacher”

“You've done nothing of the sort my boy” the teacher whispered into his ear “get out of the Silver Mountain. The council will hear of this outburst of yours and they will send men after you”

“But the summons”

“Others have talked like you. They've all been disapeered”

“Yes” Rig said in a daze 

“yes, I need to go east. All the way east”

“As good a direction as any my boy. I'll get a message to you when I can”

Rig moved off slowly shaking his head to remove the ringing from his ears [which is Leonias magic at work]

he thought it odd since he had only had a few sips of the Hearts Blood

He stopped as one of the prettier serving girls took a hesitant step forward “Do you really mean all that you said?” she asked

“I did. It is time that we opened our arms to our country and the world”

“Then I will follow you” she deposited her serving bowl on the large table and fell into step behind him

“The road will be difficult” he admitted “I'm heading east of here but beyond that I don't know which way to go”

“Does anyone?” her arm wrapped tightly around his own “it's the journey that matters and my name is Rachel”

Also note somewhere that a few priests have been run off at spear point when they were trying to collect fresh a fresh sacrifice. Rig takes this as a sign that the time for sacrifice has finished.

[nw: fix Rachels part at the end. She is basicly there to show that Rig is not the only person who feels the same way. Perhaps they shall be lovers? Uncertain as yet although it would seperate Rig and the Leonists from the Traditionals who, generally do not get married, or if they do then it is very much kept inside the church so as not to reveal the whole cannibilism thing]

Harts Change - Some scribbley bits

What's all this then?

It just so happens that a while back I posted some notes on amputation since I'd been researching it for Harts Change.  The main character, Evelyn Oneeye is minus a hand and her dog is down to three legs, the correct name for this condition is tripawd but that probably won't make it into the book.

For your perusal I offer a few drafts that I've been working on and, at this point in time, are outdated enough to be considered safe to post.

Background:

In order for some of this mess to make sense you might need some background so here goes.

• Thanks to the first outbreak of real magic in many centuries the shape of humanity has been altered to a more Cervidae form.
• Evelyn Oneeye escaped from Baron Trailin, had her life saved by Leonia and subsequently escaped again after it was revealed that she was wearing Leonia’s adoration which, if left unchecked, would have left her little more than a slave with no real will of her own.
• Now she has managed to make her way to Lilytown, a small village with no survivors.
• As always anything that looks like this are notes for things that need to done or, more usually, fixed.  I've left them in because I'm too lazy to take them out.
  
• ...Now Read On

1. Saving the Dog:
   [In which Evelyn and Straggletaggle meet and love blooms.  Well not really, but there is a heart involved.]

A little ways up the track out of town she hears sound of dogs and comes to a fork in the road with a crude sign which was nothing more than a dog burnt into a tree.  She follows the path towards what used to be a mine.

The dog fighting pits are a long abandoned mine that have been refitted into a series of pits for fighting dogs.  As with everywhere else in the place there are a number of corpses and the main building has collapsed on itself due to a large crack in the earth.  The smaller buildings have undergone similar damage but they aren't important.  Already some of the dogs have gone wild although none are attacking her just yet.

The large dog thing, she had to call it a dog because tables didn't move and ponies didn't bark. “At least they never did before today” barked and with its hackles and hair up surely it wasn't as big as it appeared, chained to the middle is being harassed by a pair of lean fighting dogs who have managed to get free.

[nw: It looked like it had some wolf in it. Judging by its size it looked like it had some horse in it as well.
To judge by the colouring she would say that it had some wolf in it but to judge by the size she would say that it had some horse in it as well.

This works as filler but not at this point I think]

It is easy to see that the dog is a veteran of the ring and knows enough to properly conserve its strength But with patience the smaller dogs are wearing him down.  Evelyn drives these dogs off with some well-placed rocks and the pair slink off in search of easier prey.  The dog growls low as she approaches, straining at the end of the chain in an effort to get to her.

A bucket of almost solid ice and the corpses of several dogs told her everything.
The welljudge. ultimate fate of any animal, champion or not, who had outlived their usefulness.  The heavy chains tethered the dogs to each other and for one to reach the water the others had to die.
“Welljudge” she spat in disgust at the sight “Fucking barbarians” [They could have given you lot a clean death but that's far too easy”]

Again the dog lunged madly at her when she got close, pulled up short by the length of his chain and the weight of his dead partner.
“You don't want to do that” she pushed a bucket of ice water into his range with the spear.  The dog worried the spear a little but then fell onto the bucket of water with enthusiasm.  His stumpy half tail moving slowly from side to side and his eyes never leaving hers sent a mixed message.
“I'm going to set you free” she pulled at the heavy pin that held the chain fast to the post “because I know what it is to live in the chains of another.  But know that if you go for me then I'll kill you and let your friends finish you off”

The clap of the chain against the stone startled the dog into movement with only long habit pulling him up short before the chain could tighten against his throat.  Realizing that something was finally different it turned around on itself once and once again before running off with a distinctive limp and the length of chain trailing behind him.
“There's my good deed for the day” Evelyn mused and examined the spear where the dog had bitten but was distracted by an angry roar and the renewed sounds of fighting.

The pit bear was clearly on his last legs but sill the king although judging by the amount of scars that showed through the thin and mangy fur it was a kingship that had been hard in the earning and harder still in the keeping.

Its range was restricted by a heavy chain that bound it to the pits central post and the heavy shackle had rubbed at the bear’s leg until it was raw and festering.

The dog darted in and out, confusing his old opponent and using his greater speed as an advantage.  But a heavy blow from the bear slammed it into the wall where it lay motionless but still breathing.  The bear roared out in his victory and reached out for his challenger, pulling him in by the very chain that had once held him prisoner.

Without giving herself time to think Evelyn advanced and dashed in to bury the spear into the bear’s chest.  It wasn't ever going to be the cleverest of moves as the beast, maddened with rage and pain, took no notice of the wound [that, in a lesser creature, would have been mortal] that should have been mortal and his large claws drew blood as they raked at her hindquarters.

But even as it looked down at her the fighting dog, ignoring the blood that ran freely from its own wound arose and attacked again.  This time getting past the claws and savaging the thick fur.

Maddened as with rage and pain the monster took no notice of the wound that should have been mortal his claws drew blood as they raked at her hindquarters.  It turned to focus on her and that was a mistake because the dog, ignoring the blood that gushed freely from its own wound, rose from the ground and attacked again.  This time managing to get past the claws and terrible snapping jaws to sink its teeth into the bears thick neck, ignoring the spray of blood to savage it until both combatants collapsed onto the frozen ground.

With her spear next to useless she draws the chisel and makes certain that the bear is finally dead and although the dog growls when she approaches it does not have the strength for anything else.

“You're a brave one dog” she stroked his head and then reached for the knife “it's not right you should end like this”  the dog flinched as the blade touched a raw section of skin but something stopped her from pushing it any deeper and putting the beast out of his misery.
“I'll be cursed if I just let you die without even trying”

The strong ribs had already cracked but with her hands as slippery with blood and gore as they were pulling them apart was difficult, it was worth it to expose the heart and cut it free of the body.  With the bucket leaking blood and the dog slung across her back she turned back to the village.

[nw: Evelyn’s injuries need to be talked up.  They start hurting when she tries to move the dog back to the smiths house]

2. The dogs surgery:
   [Where the dog tries hard to go through deaths doggy door and Evelyn tries just as hard to stop him]
   
   

A series of frantic scrambles for even the most basic of equipment while the dog lay, far too still on top of the table. His lifeblood staining the spiral message that she had left just a short time before.

The last of the smiths clean clothing were quickly sacrificed for bandages and her night was a mixture of blood, sinew and endless stitchery.

“Those other curs wouldn't have survived a bear.  But you did because you're a champion and I didn't free you only to stand by and see them throw their life away.  So I'll make you a deal fighter dog.  I'll put you back together and you don't die on me alright?”

Her torrent of words and emotions eventually settled down into a simple mumbled litany but as she spoke her work was steadily progressing the burnt shell of the tavern was scoured and an unbroken clay bottle of powerful spirits was recovered from the hands of the dead who had no more need of it.

The rough spirits cleaned the wounds easily enough although the dog growled and thrashed around whenever it hit his exposed flesh and then whimpered in pained agony as she cauterized them with the iron poker or pulled out more of her hair so that she could sew him back together.

The most serious wounds were from the bears heavy mauling and how this hadn't finished him off she couldn't say but by the time she'd finished the stitches stretched across his large chest and gently curved around the neck before ending in the same small flower that her mother had used all those years ago.
[nw: the flower behind the ear is a plot point.  It identifies the dog as hers when she encounters Glino the Dogman outside Tardeel]

“Don't move!” she ordered as he twisted round to look at what she was doing “if you break these things my mother is going to come back from the dead and tell you off something horrible and, none of us want's that.  It was hard enough getting me to sew at the best of times.  Now let’s have a look at that leg of yours”

3. The leg amputation:

[In which the title explains what happens better than I can.]
Calling it a leg was generous; The discoloured skin branched out towards the thigh while the old wound itself oozed oily green pus.
“Bastards just left you to die” mangy fur came away easily from the flea ravaged wound. “sorry about this my friend”  the sharp blade of the chisel sliced open the healthy flesh above the mess of the dogs leg and then she was forced to hold him down, get sprayed in the face with buckets of blood and avoid the powerful snapping jaws by the narrowest of margins.

“Calm down!  I am trying to help you!” he growled a few moments longer but lay back on the table, exhausted once more.  “that things going to have to come off. I can't save it and you'll be dead within a week if it doesn't”

Maybe the dog understood, maybe it was just drained of his strength but he lowered his large head to the table top and allowed her work to continue.

The heavy blade of the axe bit deeply into the table but was quickly forgotten while she held the beast down and was again drenched in his blood.  Again her job was stitching and cleaning with the one hand and holding the dog down with her stump.

As the winter sun surrendered the sky to the freshly born pair of moons the dog raised its head and licked at her cheek weakly.  She carefully untied the wide belt that had served as the tourniquet and rubbed uselessly at her own stained arms.  It was over at last, what was supposed to be on the inside was more or less back on the inside and that bad leg had been taken care of with an axe and rather nice piece of blanket stitch
that she was secretly proud of. 

Harts Change: Scribbly Bit - Meeting with Evelyns Father.

INTRODUCTION:

A bit of scribble from Harts Change that I'm working on.  It's an argument between Evelyn Oneeye and her father, Sor Esteele.  It's been five years since their last little talk and this one threatens to go much the same way.

At this stage its very heavy on the dialogue but that's because I write dialogue first and then fill in the scenery afterwards but what I want to set up is the introduction of Evelyns adopted daughter, Warchild who will be sent to live with Sor while the war continues.

NB: don't worry too much about the names of people.  They really are just placeholders until I can come up with something more fitting.

There is a touch of bad language which may or may not be left in.  I'm on the fence about it really since it fits that she'd use it to shock her father and also because she's been on the outskirts of the law for so long but at the same time I don't want to use it so much that it loses its power.

Anyway, enough of my rambling.  On with the story!

MEETING BETWEEN EVELYN ONEEYE AND SOR ESTEELE.

[scene:
After the liberation of Tardeel, the meeting between the king and her new appointment:

Evelyn is walking down the hall of the Baronial mansion with Prince Nichus and Lady Florencia when Sor Esteelles servant appears with a message that he would like to talk with her at her convenience.]

Amputation notes

Well cometh the hour, cometh the man as they say, whenever 'they' are feeling particularly pompous. My last day at work came and went with no dramas except a power cut that activated the evacuation alarm and brought the fire service to the party which translates into more paperwork for me.

I've been cobbling together my various notes over the past week or so and now that I'm finally up to date with everything I thought that a few pages on amputation might be of use to some of the budding Sweeny Todds out there in the big wide world that is LondonTown.

The joke, of course, being that Sweeny Todd isn't ever going to stitch anyone up since it all goes into Mrs Lovetts pies

Since this affects two of my main characters, Evelyn is missing a hand and is the one to chop off the leg of  Straggletaggle the dog as it is too far gone for her to save it, I wanted to get the procedure right which led to more research (yay) of various web sites and, much to the concern of the local librarians, several medical journals of varying reputation and quality.

AMPUTATION LINKS

• http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Flap_(surgery)
• http://www.strangecosmos.com/content/item/162566.html - Amputation knife
• http://www.braceface.com/medical/Civil_War_Articles/Civil_War_amputation_procedures.htm – very useful
• http://www.reversegangrene.com/foot_gangrene_amputation_pictures.htm - Bit of an adsite but useful information none the less.
• http://www.worldwidewounds.com/2006/september/Harker/Wound-Healing-Complications-Limb-Amputation.html
• http://www.vascular.co.nz/Amputation%20surgery.htm
• http://www.horseadvice.com/horse/messages/4/53813.html
• http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Maggot_therapy  - More for dealing with infection.  Too slow to be of use in the actual amputation.
• http://www.petplace.com/dogs/limb-amputation-in-dogs/page1.aspx - exceedingly useful

AMPUTATION NOTES:

PROCESS

1. Make an incision in the skin and peel back.
2. Scalpel to cut through muscles and tendons, further up the leg.
3. Peel back the flesh then capital bone saw which severs that leg
4. tenaculum grabs hold of artieres and blood vessels. Silk thread or horse hair used to tie them off.
5. Smooth out the end of the bone with clippers and a file, gnawing forceps
6. Left with a flap of muscle and skin that hangs down below the bone. These are sewn together to make a cushion that forms the stump.

PHYSICAL IMPACT:

1. After amputation of a foot or leg, the body weight of an amputee shifts to the other leg. The resulting wear and tear often leads to problems in the other foot or leg, and in a few years similar problems may develop, necessitating another amputation. If this degenerative process continues, the results may be fatal.
2. After an amputation, the muscles in and around the residual limb shorten. This pulls your joint into a bent position. If it is left like this for long periods of time, it will become difficult to straighten, or even become permanently stuck. Hence daily exercise is a necessity

PSYCHOLOGICAL IMPACT:

1. Losing a limb has also a negative psychological impact. It leaves amputees feeling depressed, angry, or alone. They feel that they're no longer whole persons; or fear that others stare at them, or avoid them.
2. Loss of limb can be compared to losing a spouse or a child. The first time you see your body after the surgery will be very disturbing. You may be shocked to look down and see that a part of your body is missing. The trauma is deep and multi-layered. So it is not easy to adjust to the loss.

PAIN AND RECOVERY:

1. You will have very strong pain after your amputation surgery because the surgeon has cut through skin, muscles, nerves and bone. Your limb will be swollen. Swelling can cause pain and limit movement.
2. Recovery is never a fast process. Each step is difficult: sitting up in bed, then sitting in a wheelchair, standing, then using crutches.
3. Types of pains:Besides stress, tension, and anxiety, amputees experience pains due to the loss of limb. Here are the most common types of pain:

1. Immediate post-op limb pain:where skin, nerves, bones, and muscle have been cut; it is exeperienced by everyone after an amputation.
2. Residual limb pain:Located in the natural limb (stump) after the amputation and may be present long after the surgery as the residual limb is usually more sensitive than other parts of the body. Unfortunately, there is no one method or treatment guaranteed to reduce or eliminate residual limb pain. Sometimes more surgery is necessary. Sometimes nothing will help.
3. Phantom sensation or feeling: I the amputated "phantom" limb which has been removed, such as itching, tingling, warmth, cold, pain, cramping, constriction, movement and any other imaginable sensation; it is experienced by almost all amputees.
   
   The brain is “remembering” the missing part of the limb, and is still “reporting” its feelings.
4. Phantom painIin the missing or amputated part of the limb; it varies from person to person - a little annoying, very unpleasant, severe, or disabling; it is different from pain in the residual limb and experienced by about 60–80 percent of amputees.
   
   Unfortunately, there is not one single guaranteed treatment to reduce or eliminate phantom pain. In most cases, it disappears within months, though most amputees (as many as 40 percent of them) may still experience phantom pain from time to time.
   
1. Management of post-amputation pain is a major problem and usually requires professional help; however, our understanding of the way at the brain handles pain and other sensations is still fairly crude.

Kalagrim Handwriting Class

As I promised [1]  in the previous post it's handwriting class today.

The idea of writing that spirals is one that has been part of the storyworld from the early drafts but except for noting it in a few places nobody mentioned it much.

After all why would they? Everyone in Kalagrim knows that writing spirals outwards and it's likely that they would think our own habit of writing in straight rows to be very cumbersome.

To be totally honest I'm still uncertain about what role the kind of handwriting will play but needs must as the muse drives and this is why I sometimes get notes of epic battles and at other times you get handwriting notes. [2]


Keen eyed readers will already have noted that the symbols, when used in the proper order, form a rather loose representation of the holy crocodile [3]
The big reason for this is that the church, in curious parallel with our own world, has long taken the dual posts of educators and priests.  
Also the vast amount of books written for and by members of the church means that the symbols shown have filtered down to the common folk outside the organisation.

	Much like the treble cleff in our music this symbol, known as the tail, is used to denote the start of a piece or written work.  As the writing of Kalagrim sprials outwards this symbol is often illuminated in some way that is pleasing to the eye although this is by no means a hard and fast rule. It is essentially there to take up space until there is enough room in the spiral to include the script.
This symbol is known as the fin and it's purpose is to indicate a change in subject or to highlight a particular point of interest to the reader.  The bars in the middle of the symbol are, in these modern days, used as bullet points but have their origin in the uprising as part of a secret code which is now sadly lost to the mists of time [4] that was used to indicate a concealed message in the missive.
	A curious device here it is known as the mouth and it signals the end of the conversation. However if the recipient has a reply then the new section will start with a mouth and ending with the tail. Thus giving the impression that the two are speaking to each other. The new reciever repeats the process, which adds a third crocodile to the conversation.
Our final symbol is the closed mouth of the crocodile. It's presence signifies that the conversation is over and no further discussion shall be entered into about whatever subjects have been raised in the series of letters.  Variations of this symbol have shown it being depicted with fangs, teeth, tears and dripping blood although these methods of decoration are generally the province of the very young but are occasionally used by older writers in order to indicate the current mood. It is also worth noting that, in the many books that are written and available in Kalagrim it is very common to find this symbol at the end of a chapter.

We see here an example of Kalagrim script being used in a pair of wartime letters.  Although it is written in English the actual script more closely follows the hieroglyphics of Egypt.[5]

Notes:

1. or, rather more accurately, threatened
2. With any luck I'll strike loony theory next time. It's a bit of a crapshoot really
3. A divine beast that is slated to undergo drastic changes.  I'm leaning in the direction of the Sarcosuchus or similar prehistoric beastie.
4. Also because the secret code is not going to come up in the book no matter how much the muse begs.  It's bad enough that I'm making notes about writing!
5. and I don't have any Hieroglyphic fonts handy.  For those of you who are interested the font that I used is called 1610 Cancellaresca

Harts Change - Some scribbly bits

One of the things I've always liked about working long hours is that, some nights, you get pretty much the whole shift to yourself.

This gives me time to sit down and scribble bits and pieces out, sometimes they lead to something and other times they don't.

So here's a few first drafts of things that possibly may or may not have happened at some time in Harts Change.

A Note regarding the text:

If it be writ in blue,

notes from me to me (and you)

But text in purple be,

something something explanatory

You might well wonder,

wither he goes.

and why the words are now bad prose.

You don't know and nor do I,

this might just be a waste of time.

(I have never claimed to be a poet.

So read on dear reader and have some, Moët)

The Everything you didn't want to know about writings Favourite Character Blogfest

Kellic Sparrowhawk.

Introduction:

This is an entry for a Blog Challenge from Everything you didn't want to know about writing. All you need to do to enter is click the link, sign up and reveal to the interworld exactly three things:

1. Who your favorite character that you've written is.
2. Why exactly they are your favourite
3. A snippet of writing so we can all go “Ooh” and “Aah and, if you're very lucky “We want to publish you. Right now!”