STOP DOING THIS IN INJURY FICS!!

Writing Notes: Realistic Injuries (pt. 3)

Hostile Environments

It’s not uncommon for your characters to find themselves stranded somewhere with less than ideal conditions.

Cold

There are the obvious risks of hypothermia and frostbite.

The time for these to set in can vary drastically with temperature and windchill.

In both cases, warming should be done slowly or risk blistering of the skin and other complications such as shock.

Like burns, frostbite is classified into degrees of severity:

First degree frostbite – Numbness and whitening of skin.

Second degree – Outer layer of skin frozen, blistering likely when warmed.

Third degree – Skin is white or blue and blotchy. Skin and the tissue beneath it is hard and cold.

Heat

Risk of heat exhaustion or heat stroke.

Heat exhaustion is caused by insufficient water and salt intake. It is easy to develop without realising it.

Heat stroke is more severe and often follows untreated heat exhaustion. It is extremely dangerous and can be fatal.

Symptoms of Heat Exhaustion

Headache

Dizziness, faintness

Confusion and irritability

Thirst

Fast and weak pulse and breathing

Clammy skin and cramps

Additional Symptoms of Heatstroke

Hot, dry, flushed skin

Sweating stops altogether

Nausea

Disorientation up to and including hallucinations

Abnormal blood pressure

Elevated temperature

Unconsciousness

Treatment focuses on lowering the body temperature and rehydrating the person as quickly as possible.

Oxygen Deprivation

Apart from the obvious – lack of oxygen is rather bad for you (6-8 minutes for permanent brain damage) – the reason for the lack can have side effects of its own.

For example smoke, chemical or water inhalation can do physical damage to the lungs making breathing difficult even when the person is removed to a safe place.

Exposure to Vacuum

In short, your major problems would be…

Oxygen deprivation

Exposure to extreme cold

Expansion of gases within the body – meaning that holding your breath would be a Big Mistake, but not one you’d live to regret for very long

In a sudden decompression there would also be the risk of decompression sickness (the bends) and of getting hit by flying debris during the decompression itself.

Assuming you survived the initial decompression you’d have about 10 seconds of consciousness to do something about it and about one and a half minutes to live.

Parts of the body exposed would suffer from swelling, frostbite, and interrupted circulation.

Leaky spaceships

50% atmospheric pressure is enough to have people suffering from hypoxia (oxygen deprivation).

15% and you more or less, may as well be in vacuum.

Source: Leia Fee (with additions by Susannah Shepherd) More: Part 1 ⚜ Part 2 ⚜ Word Lists (Sick) (Pain) ⚜ Drunkenness ⚜ Autopsy

Celethon the Ancient

Note recovered from the Library of Tarbrind, following the disappearance of it's author, John Heldefson, Field Scholar.

A great dragon of the ancient world, Celethon has evaded discovery for many decades. Once a close friend of the Tarbrind King, he went into seclusion after the Great Slaughter. Although the details of his current status remain uncertain, I believe that if Celethon were dead, the consequences would be felt across world. According to historical records, Celethon is approximately 750 years old, one of the most powerful and revered of the True Dragons. He holds a unique position of authority among his kin, serving as the closest thing they have to a leader. Before the Great Slaughter, Celethon was instrumental in founding an elite order known as the Dragon Knights, or Dragoons, under the Tarbrind monarchy. The Dragoons bore Celethon's blessing and symbol, acting as an elite force of warriors and diplomats between dragons and humans, and acted as the hand of Celethon wherever he could not reach himself. They represented the alliance of human and dragon-kind. Nearly all of them perished in the Slaughter, and with Celethon's disappearance, the order collapsed. The survivors reformed as the Firewatch, who to this day carry Celethon's symbol, though they now defend against other threats. Despite his rather pervasive role in history, especially up until 150 years ago, mentions of Celethon, especially physical descriptions are surprisingly sparse, and in some texts, even seemingly censored. I am looking into the matter with the help of the Library of Tarbrind, though I believe there is another who may offer some insight. Either way, Celethon was described as a truly massive dragon, nearly 600 feet in length. His scales were purest black, each one coarse and leaf-shaped, measuring about the length of a grown man's arm. His breath, said to be the hottest fire in all the realms, was used to smelt the impervious metal wolfram, discovered by the Church of the Raven within a fallen star. In personality, Celethon was calm, wise, and deliberate. He was slow to anger, but in battle, he was a force of unparalleled power, capable of rending enemies apart with ease. His might was displayed when he single-handedly slew the dragon Celic the Black, who had razed the city of Oscillia, ripping the rebel dragon in half over the burning city. Hope remains that this titan of the ancient world will one day surface again. Searches have been conducted for decades, although they have become far less frequent due to the lack of results. Personally, I believe he still watches from the shadows, protecting the lands he once called his own.

On Theodreseax

Note recovered from the Library of Tarbrind, following the disappearance of it's author, John Heldefson, Field Scholar.

Theodreseax, by his own admission, is a dragon of many flaws: pretentious, selfish, irredeemably paranoid, and unashamedly rude when the occasion arises. He neither favors nor despises humans, treating them with a mixture of distant disinterest and dismissive superiority. Upon our first meeting, I was bound to a contract with my life as its wager, a fact I remain rather displeased with, though there is little to be done now. I cannot reveal his exact location, as that information is under the same.

Theodreseax is a dragon of considerable size, measuring some 450 feet from snout to tail. His slim frame and elongated, spiny horns make him appear even larger than his already impressive bulk. His scales are a brilliant red, with black spines running down his back, and his underbelly shines a softer, burnt orange. His scales, larger than a man’s hand, shimmer like polished gems. While his original breath weapon was a thick, viscous flame, he has since altered himself, allowing him to produce an astoundingly lethal vapor, a trait he learned to protect the unique nature of his hoard. He admits himself to be 495 years old, born on the final day of Emperor Halifax the Tenth, on the fifth day of Malice.

Theodreseax is not a stereotypical (and almost always incorrect) hoarder of gold or jewels that legend makes out dragons to be. Instead, his lair beneath the ruins of an ancient castle is packed floor-to-ceiling with books, manuscripts, relics, and untold quantities of knowledge. His treasure is information, and he brokers it with those who can meet his price—typically another secret or piece of valuable lore. This vast chamber is his domain, a world unto itself where even the air seems heavy with the weight of the knowledge stored within.

Curiously, He does not dwell in solitude. He is attended by a group of beings he refers to as Dragonians or, as some legends name them, Kobolds. These creatures range in height from 4 to 7 feet, their anatomy bearing similarities to humans but with distinct draconic features, including long, lizard-like tails and elongated, snouted faces lined with sharp, triangular teeth. Their scales are small, about the length of a finger, and they appear to be warm-blooded. Their eyes are piercing and bright, and seem to glow with a light from within after the manner of true dragons. While sentient and clearly understanding my speech, they did not converse with me, leading me to believe that their silence is out of duty rather than incapacity. They are dressed in the style of the old imperial maids, who famously refrained from all speech during their duties. I must admit I find this likeness equal parts disconcerting and hilarious. He claims there are more of their kind farther south, albeit they are few in number. I suppose I should not be surprised to find another sentient race beside human and dragon, though I am filled with wonder at this discovery.

Over the course of several days, He and I conversed extensively, during which I was able to purchase invaluable information concerning another topic of interest. He was particularly impressed with my method of locating the Fathomless Tomb, and he did not consider his debt to me fulfilled with the information i requested of him, and he offered me further information free of charge should I ever return. However, when pressed about Celethon or any matters regarding him, Theodreseax was not evasive, but outright refused any information. He seemed surprised and somewhat impressed when I presented the knowledge I had already gained on Celethon, but refused to offer more than correcting me in my physical description. When I inquired about his own secrecy, he insisted he had no interest in the "petty squabbles of such short-lived creatures." I could hardly argue with his perspective.

Upon departing from his lair, Theodreseax directed me through a peculiar wooden door reinforced with wrought iron bars. The door was surrounded by runes I did not recognize, and though I attempted to commit them to memory, I found them fading from my mind like a forgotten dream. Passing through the door, I was astounded to find myself not in some remote wilderness, but standing in a back alley in Tarbrind, many miles from where I had expected to emerge. Truly, Theodreseax is a keeper of endless secrets.

NEED HELP WRITING? (a masterlist)

I have likely not added many that I've reblogged to this list. Please feel free to roam my blog and/or ask/message me to add something you'd like to see on this list!

Synonym Lists

Look by @writers-potion

Descriptors

Voices by @saraswritingtipps

Show, Don't Tell by @lyralit

Tips & Tricks

5 Tips for Creating Intimidating Antagonists by @writingwithfolklore

How To (Realistically) Make a Habit of Writing by @byoldervine

Let's Talk About Misdirection by @deception-united

Tips to Improve Character Voice by @tanaor

Stephen King's Top 20 Rules for Writers posted by @toocoolformedschool

Fun Things to Add to a Fight Scene (Hand to Hand Edition) by @illarian-rambling

Questions I Ask My Beta Readers by @burntoutdaydreamer

Skip Google for Research by @s-n-arly

Breaking Writing Rules Right: Don't Write Direct Dialogue by @septemberercfawkes

Databases/Resources

International Clothing

Advice/Uplifting

Too Ashamed of Writing To Write by @writingquestionsanswered

"Said" is Beautiful by @blue-eyed-author

words to use instead of ________

"Mad"

aggravated, angry, annoyed, boiling, cross, enraged, exasperated, fuming, furious, heated, incensed, indignant, irate, irritable, livid, offended, outraged, riled, steamed, storming, upset

"Nice"

amiable, charming, cordial, courteous, delightful, favorable, friendly, genial, gentle, gracious, helpful. inviting, kind, lovely, obliging, peaceful, peachy, pleasant, polite, swell, sympathetic, tender, welcoming, well-mannered, winning

"Pretty"

alluring, appealing, attractive, beautiful, charming, cute, delightful, desirable, elegant, eye-catching, fair, fascinating, gorgeous, graceful, intriguing, lovely, pleasing, striking, stunning, sweet

"Said"

alleged, argued, asked, asserted, babbled, bellowed, bragged, commented, complained, cried, declined, demanded, denied, encouraged, expressed, giggled, growled, inquired, moaned, nagged, rebuked, rebutted, replied, rejected, retorted, roared, scolded, shrieked, shrugged, stated, taunted, vowed, warned, whined, whispered, yelled

"Went"

avoid, bolt, bound, depart, exit, escape, flee, fly, hike, hop, jaunt, jolt, journey, leap, leave, lurch, march, mosey, move, pace, parade, pass, progress, retreat, saunter, scoot, skip, split, step, stride, stroll, tour, travel, vanish

more words to use instead other words to use instead another list of words to use instead

"In nature, our sacred creed, Honor the rot that feeds the seed. Praise to life that springs from stone, From death to breath, from flesh to bone.

Glory to roots that delve so deep, To rivers that run on mountains steep. Honor the deep where crawlers roam, Bless the soil, our toil, our life, our home.

Praise the worms that break the clay, Where maggots dance and life decay For corpse lays down, and death takes hold, And in the rot, new life unfolds.

Blessed be the fallen wood, In crumbling mold, the world has stood. In dance of birth, decay, rebirth Praise, O Man, the living earth."

When people say, “nature is my religion” are they talking about flies that feed on shit, maggots in decomposing corpses, lionesses with stained teeth and mouths full of blood? Are they talking about floods and fires and things from which we should always run? Are they talking about carcasses, rot, death?

Or do they just mean “this particular copse of benign trees is my religion”

When writing emotionally reserved characters:

Show your character's struggles with holding in emotions. Just because your character won't let themself go in public, doesn't mean they don't struggle holding everything in.

Find a motive. Pride and/or consideration for those around them can make emotionally reserved people hold back more than would be considered good for them. There are other reasons too, perhaps the initial cause and the reason now are different, but try to give them a reason.

Show side-effects. Everything you bottled up shows itself in another way, whether it's physical or mental. This can be long- and short-term, depending on the severity of the emotions.

Give them coping mechanisms. Everyone who wishes not to show certain emotions has a trick or two to keep themselves in check. Taking a sip of water, not looking people in the eyes, clenching their fists, breathing just a bit too deeply.

Write subconscious signs that they give off, which close friends or family might pick on. Just because these characters want to keep their emotions to themselves, doesn't mean they don't give off signs. Some manage to keep said signs well hidden from those closest to them, but it's more common for environment to pick up on something at the very least.

The Fathomless Tomb; From the collection of John Heldefson, Library of Tarbrind.

"Grey stone and vast tunnels. A presence which lurks the corridors, hunting and voracious. An Illogical web of utter darkness. A fathomless tomb." -Excerpt from Thresholds by Scholar Fareiar Brands, Library of Tarbrind

The secluded chapel, fathomless tomb, the lost cathedral, or catacombs of the war, this incredible location goes by many names. Endless halls of rough grey stone twist beneath the Dragonspine Mountains, branching with clusters of innumerable chambers. There is no living memory of it's construction or true location, and no written record yet found of it's creators. To call the place a tomb or even catacomb is a disgrace to the sheer vastness of it's unknown depths.

Few have ever wandered it's halls, and fewer yet have returned to tell tales of the unfathomable darkness within. Some wanderers speak of beautiful vaults and chambers, echoing with their volume. Others mutter of a hungering presence that stalks the halls, unseeable, unmeasurable, inescapable, and unfightable. Some tell of twisting corridors who's shape betrays the wanderer's eyes, forming a illogical, twisting web of unending corridors. Some will tell you they were lost for years in the hungering depths, with only a few day's worth of food. They might tell you of their time as dead men walking in a tomb who refuses to give them rest. Perhaps if you look carefully enough, you will see something broken in their eyes.

Regardless of some of the more far-fetched stories, the accounts agree on many things. Upon finding an entrance, something far easier said than done, one finds himself on a dark corridor carved roughly from grey stone, resembling a mineshaft more than anything else. In my own search, I located a long-abandoned mineshaft some fifty miles due west of Tarbrind, near the ruins of Illimar, on the foothills of the Dragonspine. The location no longer exists, else I would provide further detail. Should one choose to continue their journey into the darkness, they will eventually come across the first chamber. Accounts vary as to how long it takes, from several hours to only a few minutes, but in every story, and indeed in my own experience, the first chamber remains constant.

An immense cathedral opens before the intrepid, and perhaps, foolish, explorer. Carved stone columns six feet in diameter march the length of the room in two rows, twelve on each side. The room is illuminated solely by a shaft of sunlight filtering from a single hole centered over what might be considered an altar at the far end of the room. Small natural gemstones embedded in the grey stone reflect this light, casting pins of light around the chamber. From the seventh column onward are carven stone benches, enough to seat some five hundred people. At the end of the room is a raised platform holding an altar and a pulpit of sorts, overshadowed by a huge statue. The colossal figure of carven stone depicts a hooded, robed man, a sword in his right hand, and two tablets of stone in his left. His face is partly obscured by the hood, but an expression of something between anger and resolution can be seen. Partly obscured by heavy shadows, feathered black wings lie partly folded behind the figure's back. Both they and the cloak seem to be carved of some darker stone than the rest of the scene.

It has been noted by my colleges that the presentation of the statue closely resembles that of the traditional reading card known by the folk name of "The Judgement", and while their clothing and posture is remarkably similar, one cannot help but notice the lack of wings, and the absence of the tablets in the latter depiction. As such, I cannot persuade myself to delve too deeply into the connection.

The walls of the chamber are covered in carvings of what are assumed to be historical events. The vast majority are of unknown times and places, but some are recognizable, such as the split of the great empire, the shattering, the great plagues that swept the land shortly after, and the coronations of all rulers in recorded history, including the most recent. There are no empty spaces on the wall, and some carvings depict events as recent as only a decade ago. Some believe this indicates the end of the world is near, while others believe that the room simply grows longer on it's own. Others still deny that there is any change, and that people are simply applying their knowledge to a assortment of otherwise meaningless carvings.

Perhaps the greatest feature of the great chamber, and perhaps entire the tomb itself is the great wind-organ constructed into the rear wall. Innumerable tubes scale the chamber, presumably extending to the surface, although their location has never been found. The organ endlessly plays a melancholy tune which seems to lament the very nature of it's surroundings. The organ projects a haunting melody throughout the wandering halls without respite, and gently serenades the ones who lie in rest. One can often feel the music more that they hear it, as many of the notes are far below human hearing. This quality lends the organ another purpose. The sheer power of the deepest notes provide the sole reliable method of finding your way back to the main chamber. May the gods of old help you should you wander outside of it's range.

Beyond this main room, which some consider to be the center, or nexus of the tomb, cartography and navigation become difficult at best. The halls and lesser chambers have a terrible habit of shifting themselves around. The catacombs themselves seem more or less unremarkable. The majority of the graves here are simple slots cut into the walls. Most have a stone cover, sometimes carved with the likeness of the resident, but none have the names or burial dates of which have always been customary in both the east and west kingdoms.

If you wander long enough, you may find yourself in the tombs of what is assumed to be nobles or great people. These tombs reside in small rooms, usually with four to six slots on the left and right walls. These slots hold a single, simple stone sarcophagus. at the far wall, there is a much larger slot carved into the wall, which holds a statue and a thick pile of partially burnt candles. The statue is different for almost every chamber, but almost always depicts a larger than life winged figure of any gender kneeling in a position of weeping or great mourning. The candles in these rooms are one of the most important details. Implications of how exactly these came to be aside, explorers use these candles for themself, but also as markers. If you enter a chamber with a great number of broken-off candle stubs, you can rest a while, and be sure the area is relatively stable, because a good number of people have found the room before you. If you enter one with no broken candles, be wary. You may be the first to set foot in this room, and you may very well be the last.

Wandering the tombs provides no gain whatsoever aside from the incredible and unknown sights within. Grave robbers do not return from their expeditions, and wanderers and explorers alike leave the tombs with a strange tendency to disappear. There are a great number of tales of wanderers returning home, only to hear the drone of the great organ in the wind, or to walk through a seemingly inconspicuous door which disappears the moment it is out of view, never to be seen again. There are frighteningly few first-hand accounts of this phenomena, which would ordinarily invoke my skepticism. I was, however, am unfortunate witness to one of these happenings during an interview with one Alexander Hoffson, who, by his own account, visited the tomb on seven separate occasions over the past twelve years. It was by his advice that I was myself able to locate an entrance. Upon the conclusion of our conversation, he walked out of a side door near the stairs on the second floor of the Dancing Crow tavern. When I looked back in that direction, I realized that no such door could be there, as it was an exterior wall. The door itself had entirely vanished as well. To my knowledge, he remains missing to this day.

End note.

Scribe Guild east branch, Tarbrind East, Guild Narrow, By the hand of Viliar Scottson, Royal Scribe. Transcript direct from subject, Year of our King 1377, 5th of Noct, Words of John Heldefson, Field Scholar, Library of Tarbrind.

Statements Compiled for further commercial works by client. Box 1173. Long Live The King