The Gods

It is never correct, in an infiniverse, to say ‘all’ the gods (or any other entities) have certain powers and attributes. An infinite number will and an infinite number will not.

Having gotten that out of the way, one attribute of many gods in my Izan fiction is the ability to have sex with anything — inanimate objects like mountains and rivers included — and have offspring. Many gods also — and the two groups overlap but are not all the same in this — can choose whether or not to have those offspring.

The latter is true of Xido’s pantheon. However, when he chose to put aside (most of) his power to become Xit, the all-too-human wizard, and wander with Saj in ‘The Eyes of the Wind,’ he lost that ability. It became a matter of chance and, so, Qala the Pirate Queen ended up pregnant with his child (Qala and her son have their own story arc in the Crocodile Chronicles novels.). Xido loves to gamble anyway and he tossed the dice this time.

It can be assumed all his pantheon can have offspring with humans. Whether that extends to any other species, I couldn’t say. It may be noted however that their ancestry includes some powerful being from outside their own world; otherwise, they would not differ from the brutish mafadwi over whom they rule. I have described it as a firebird but not really explained what that is — nor are the gods themselves certain.

Most of the gods I’ve described in any detail at all seem to be mutually fertile with humans. Most of them are also more-or-less humanoid (at least when they choose to be). What makes them gods is that they are rulers of — or at least dominant in — their respective universes. They are not the creators of those worlds, though they may have had a hand in shaping them.

There are no such gods in our own world. It is simply not structurally suited to their existence. Nor is it easy for deities from elsewhere to visit. We had to depend on a big bang to form us. Exura, the world where most of my stories are set (Izan being the name for all the infiniverse), likewise has no indigenous gods but was shaped by powerful elementals, that manifest themselves through the jewels known as the Eyes of the Wind (among other names). However, it is relatively easy for gods from elsewhere to pop up there and, therefor, have worshipers. Or at least people to use their names in vain.

Material

I've been thinking of replacing this blog with something more wiki-ish. These haphazard posts do cover the Izan universe but I doubt it is a very user-friendly method. Well, we'll see; I've not been writing much in this 'Gods and Wizards' mythos lately (my sci-fi has been taking my attention) but there is, admittedly, a lot of background material I could put up here. Or maybe somewhere else.

Queen of Pirates

Qala the Pirate Queen appears in four of Stephen Brooke’s Izan Cycle fantasy novels. She was introduced as a secondary character in ‘The Eyes of the Wind,’ in which she is still the leader of the pirates. ‘The Crocodile’s Son’ and ‘The Crocodile God’ chronicle her adventures in retirement as a member of the landed gentry (and the mother of a demigod). We turn to her childhood as a refugee in the decaying city of Tesra in ‘The City and the Sword,’ when she was known as Lellie. Later she took the name of the city as her own, becoming Tes the pirate captain before rising to the position of queen.

It is as Tes she appears in the novella ‘Storm Stone,’ to be released June 28 2026. This is a tale of her days as a young pirate on her way to the top. All the books are available in print or as free ebooks at arachispress.com

Hounds

The ‘hounds of Asak’ were originally bred at the temple of Dekata in Lorj. Descendants of those white dogs spread into other areas, many perhaps deriving from the pair taken back to Lanlax in ‘The Jewels of the Elements.’ The puppy presented at Ros’s naming ceremony may well have carried that heritage.

However, some were carried to the realm of Asak himself and bred into something more monstrous: the ‘wart dogs’ encountered in ‘The Song of the Sword.’ Possibly they were mixed with something more demonic than an ordinary canine. Some of these certainly were also to be found at Asa-Zad before the cult of Asak was overthrown on Lorj.

Despair

Asak, to whom I may have sometimes referred as the god of evil, is, more properly, the god of despair. Despair is the greatest of evils. Perhaps the only true evil, with all other deriving from it. It is a conviction of the meaninglessness of existence and a hatred for all that is. Asak seeks total obliteration of all being, even while knowing it is impossible. To make matters worse, gods can’t commit suicide, what with being immortal — he is doomed to ever exist, with no escape.

All his pantheon (and there infinite others in infinite existence) is quite symbolic in this fashion. Asak is as completely ‘evil’ as is possible, just as his opposite number — his twin brother Kamat — is totally good. Almost; nothing can be absolute. Of course, he has complete faith that existence has meaning. That, ultimately, is what true faith is, when one strips away various dogmas and ideologies.

Both Kamat and Asak are Ildin deities. The Ildin, as a people, have been in and out of the Izan tales, sometimes playing a role, sometimes mentioned mostly in passing. But their religious beliefs, and their gods, have had their impact. 

Zombies

In ‘Stones in the Sea,’ I gave some details on the fact that a powerful sorcerer could enter and control the minds of some lower animals — essentially those without much (or no) sense of self. The goddess Kesarra demonstrates this ability with sea snakes, spiders, and such. Although she can touch sometimes their thoughts, she is incapable of controlling more advanced creatures; whales, for example. Certainly not humans!

I had hinted at this idea in much earlier books. Notably, another goddess, Mawa, used spiders to ‘see’ what was going on elsewhere in ‘The Crocodile’s Son.’

Now another mind that lacks consciousness would be that of a newly deceased person. A sorcerer with the ability can control that mind and its body. This is, in essence, a zombie, as defined in my Izan fantasy stories. I first introduced the concept in the novel ‘Valley of Visions,’ where the warlord Ko is resurrected to harangue his troops into action, with the mad wizard Teshum pulling his strings.

Pretty much everyone, including gods and other sorcerers, strongly condemn such abuse of wizardly powers, as well as recognizing its dangers. It is possible for the wizard controlling a body to become trapped there (at least temporarily) as it deteriorates. Yet some will use such ‘magic’ anyway. It reappears in ‘The Plain of Silver,’ when a zombie assassin is sent to attack a princess of Sharsh (essentially to stir up war).

This is a theme best used infrequently. By positing the need for extraordinary sorcerous power, I can and do limit it. I also limit its effectiveness, to make it less attractive an option for wizards. There is a relatively narrow window of opportunity for seizing control of a dead man’s brain. The body itself will deteriorate and become less useful and harder to control.

On whole, one is better off sticking to spiders.

Shape-Shifters

Shape-shifting, as normally explained, seems implausible to me — not at all in accord with my world-building and magic system. Therefor, I created a variant that would make sense.

This goes back to when I first introduced the god Xido, who has shown up in several of the Izan novels. Xido and the fellow gods of his pantheon have dual natures which they have learned to divide. Prior to doing so, the were monsters more than they were gods, akin to the demons — the mafadwi — of their world. But having learned, they lock their bestial manifestations away in another world, to be called upon only in the greatest of need. At least in theory.

Both forms, god and beast, are completely material. I allow no ‘spirits’ in my worlds. This is not unlike the way the wizards send a material part of themselves into other worlds, except they can’t leave theme there forever!

When Xido becomes the Crocodile, he essentially trades places with that form. To be sure, the two versions of the god are always connected and, in a sense, interact. He is a bit more strict than some of his relatives about maintaining a separation, perhaps due to spending more time among mortals.

There are variations on this among gods of other pantheons; we needn’t get into those. But this same concept can be applied to werewolves and other shape-changers. The man does not so much become the wolf as trade places with it. I’ve done this with the dragons in my Greenmeadows stories (which are not strictly part of the Izan mythos) when they assume human form.

So far, I’ve introduced no werewolves, at least in the traditional sense. The borugi of ‘The Sword and the City’ are wolf-like but do not change form. It’s nice to know, however, I have a ready-made explanation if I ever do.

The Mur

At the time Dick Brown arrived in Exura (‘Stones in the Sea’), proto-Ildin and proto-Muram populations dwelt in fairly close proximity in the mountainous areas of the mainland north of the Isle of Nagi. Before the two populations split and migrated their separate ways, there was a certain amount of cultural and genetic exchange between them. Indeed, some numbers of Ildin (then known as Heldu) traveled north with the Mur and became incorporated into their population.

All these peoples were already mixed, first when they arrived on Nagi and then later as they encountered other populations. I have given the Ildin something of an Indo-Iranian heritage, but combined with earlier Proto-Indo-European peoples and even back to the Mal'ta-Buret culture. There would certainly have been more influences as other populations dribbled into Exura from our world, most commonly only a few — or one — at a time.

The Mur have a somewhat similar past but a larger percentage of more modern additions to their heritage, including Hunnic peoples. I have attempted to reflect these differences in their respective cultures and languages.

The name Mur simply means ‘man’ but takes on the connotation of warrior or noble, in time. This is obviously derived from Indo-European examples. They themselves had a more ‘Asian’ appearance than their neighbors, reflecting Hunnic, Turkic, and other Central Asian and Siberian ancestors. At the time they lived in proximity to the Heldu, they did not yet have the horse but did raise cattle and traveled in ox-drawn carts. Their migrations took them north toward the Great Rift and then eastward through the cold steppes north of the Tesran Unum. Eventually they turned south along the coasts of the Great Sea to displace the Tesran power.

Then some took to the sea, carving out an empire across the ocean. In doing so, the Mur of that eastern-based empire became increasingly sundered from those of the ‘Old Kingdoms,’ mixing with (and conquering) Sharshites and others. That’s a topic for another time and essay.

I do not use any specific culture to model them (nor the Ildin), but simply borrow some ideas from our past. One given when it comes to the inhabitants of Exura is that they are not in any sense of ‘pure’ stock. Not that we are either, of course! I create new customs and ways, as needed, attempting to remain true to my conception of who they are.

 

Souls

One of the most basic tenets of my Izan world-building is that souls do not exist. By soul or spirit I mean the generally accepted definition, essentially any sort of incorporeal entity. This includes ones that might be attached in some way to our material existence — and possibly survive it.

Perhaps I shouldn’t say they don’t exist; more accurately, there is no evidence whatsoever of them. In infinite existence, in infinite worlds, who can say? In that infinity we not only could but must exist again. Infinitely, perhaps! But that is not a soul, nor spirit nor ghost. It is solid material being.

As is everything else. Wizards do not send their spirits to other worlds. They send part of their physical self. The gods are material creatures. Even the little elementals that float among the worlds have a physical form though they are not quite ‘there’ when they come into Exura or another world and interact with its inhabitants.

We could use the old sci-fi cliché of them being ‘out of phase.’ It’s as good — and essentially as meaningless — an explanation as any.

All this does not prevent humans (and other mortals) from believing in the concept of an afterlife. But in many worlds they are knowledgeable enough of the gods and of the infinite worlds to recognize that no one knows what might await. Thus we have the Kamatian funeral rite I created for the third book of Donzalo’s Destiny, The Sign of the Arrow:

As an arrow flies my soul,
into darkness, into night;
none whom I have left behind
sees the ending of its flight.

We can, of course, use the term soul in a more general way, as when we refer to a person as a soul. It is what makes us who we are, our consciousness perhaps, that which continues however much our bodies may change. It is an abstraction, not a ‘real’ thing. Each of us is a human Ship of Theseus, every cell in our body being constantly replaced, yet this idea of us persists.

Until we go. The same with our ‘spirit,’ our spark of life if you will. They do not survive us, at least in the Izan mythos. As to our own reality, I’ll admit I cannot see the ending of my flight.

Exura

Exura (pronounced ay-ZHU-rah) means ‘new world’ in the language used on Nagi when the wizard Hurasu first arrived there, via the Ural Gate. As several other words I coined for the people of Nagi (including the name Nagi itself), I adapted usages from Basque. But in the case of Exura, I also used an element from another ancient (and extinct) non-Indo-European tongue, Hattic.

Of course, no one speaking modern Basque was likely to have ever passed through the portal in the Ural Mountains. I am working on the premise (or conceit) that Basque is a remnant of a more widespread group of languages once spoken across Europe. Hattic (or, more accurately, related tongues) and various languages of the Caucasus might well have been spoken in the Urals region before Indo-European expansion. Or speakers could have traveled into the area from the south, for trade, for hunting, even for war.

The language of Nagi is an ever-changing pidgin as new groups and individuals arrive from our world — never many at a time — and add their own usages. There might well be Neanderthal (or Denisovan) dialects if one went far enough back. Then various modern humans would have crossed over, adding their own flavor to the linguistic soup, right down to Russians before the gate was finally blocked by Hurasu.

An online search will find other meanings for ‘exura.’ I knew nothing of those when I invented my own usage, nor do I particularly care about them. In my Gods and Wizards mythos, the name was adopted by Hurasu to refer to his new home, as distinguished from all the other worlds of infinite existence, Izan, and came to be used primarily by him and other wizards.

Most people, not unexpectedly, simply referred to their world by some word meaning ‘earth’ in their own languages. In Zikem, Hurasu’s invented language which drew much of its vocabulary from Etruscan, that was Ker.

The Earth Gates

Fundamental to my tales of Izan is the existence of two gates from our world to that of Exura. One-way gates; there is no returning for those who travel to that other world. Nor can one use them anymore. The wizard Hurasu blocked both in what would be the mid-1930s here and only an exceptionally powerful magician would be able to force his bindings. None such exist in our world.

These two gates are somewhat opposite poles in both worlds. In ours, one exists in the southern Ural Mountains and and the other in the South Pacific. Their approximate locations are 55N and 60E for the Ural Gate, and 120W and 35S for the Pacific Gate. These have remained essentially stationary over millions of years though, as the magnetic poles, they might meander just a little.

But the continents and oceans would themselves have shifted. The Pacific Ocean is somewhat of a constant, and at least for the last 250 million years the Pacific Gate has been located in it or its predecessor, the Panthallasic Ocean, which formed some 750 million years ago. We needn’t concern ourselves with anything earlier than that, I suspect.

This does mean the Pacific Gate was in the ocean when the last Mosasaur lived. It is likely the Itza encountered in a couple of my stories is a descendant of that aquatic reptile. The Ural Gate has generally been on land during that same period though shallow seas may have engulfed it for periods.

Exura would have had its own extinction events, some unique, some paralleling those of Earth. The dinosaur-killing asteroid did not occur but there would certainly have been similar events. Perhaps there are in all worlds, even those of the gods. This is one reason creatures extinct in our world persist in Exura, though generally not in large numbers. Evolution goes on there too, but not necessarily at the same pace as on Earth.

Of course, the Exura continents would also have drifted. The gates there are a subject to take up another day. We can say that, in addition to the gates from Earth, there are quite a few going to and from other worlds. That is one factor in the ease of using magic there in comparison to Earth, which is practically without sorcery of any sort. Some worlds, such as Hirstel or some of the homes of the various gods, are even more connected.

Does Earth have any other gates to or from one of the infinite worlds? We have mentioned one that opens in Anatolia, one-way only from Atlantis. Hurasu came through it and was stranded here until he found the way to Exura. A few others have passed to our world and some may have never have discovered an exit. There may be a few hidden ways here and there, difficult of passage or leading to inhospitable — or even deadly — worlds. Perhaps we’ll discover one or another of them in a future tale.

The Price

The ‘price of magic’ is a phrase and idea that shows up with some regularity in fantasy literature. Its exact meaning varies considerably. In my main fantasy sequence, the stories that make up the Annals of Izan, there are two primary ‘prices.’

First, magic is hard work. It wearies the practitioner to control the forces involved. Enough so to be hazardous to one health. Magicians sometimes push too hard and very much pay that price. On the other hand, the judicious use of the art is not a drain and the only price is the need for a little extra rest.

The second, and more dangerous, price is involved with the very process of magic. That is, connecting to other worlds — the infinite worlds of existence. For the untrained, it is all too easy to become ‘lost’ in those worlds, to go mad, hearing voices and seeing things one does not understand. The trained practitioner learns ways of dealing with other worlds ever impinging on their consciousness yet they, too, can be and all too often are, driven mad. Lord Radal, the antagonist of my Donzalo’s Destiny novels, was the original example of this.

That, essentially, is it. A fairly straightforward explanation of the dangers and price of magic. It has worked fine for me in a number of novels and I take care to stick to its rules.

Coyotes

Coyotes have been mentioned in at least a couple of my novels. They are not coyotes as we know them in North America; there is no way that species could have found its way to Exura. But they are similar, being essentially small wolves.

These are a different species from the jackals I have also mentioned. That is one reason I used the coyote name, to emphasize their basic difference. The two species live on different continents and their ranges do not overlap. The jackals of Exura are related to those of our world and it is likely their ancestors passed through the Ural Gate.

What I have named coyotes, however, would be descended from larger wolves that, most likely, came through the same gate. Some of these would have passed eastward into Muradon and evolved further there. Or they could, admittedly, have come to Exura from some other world than ours. As the coyotes of our world, they are adaptable and survive in lands where the larger wolves have been eradicated or become scarce. They are found across the continent of Muradon, from Sharsh in the west to the realm of the Ani but have never spread into Neradon beyond.

Though only jackals lived in their region, the Tesrans of the time of the Wizardry novels knew of coyotes because the skins sometimes came to them as trade goods. They would have had somewhat thicker hair than a jackal, making them more desirable as a fur. I have also mentioned coyote hides being worn in the Donzalo’s Destiny novels.

Snow-Ogres

Though I did not use the name in the novel in which they appeared (Valley of Visions), the large ape-like creatures the Taona Marareta (Michael Malvern) and his party encounter in the high mountains between Hurasu’s valley of the Tez and the Mora homeland were snow-ogres. Yes, they are somewhat yeti-like, taller than men and covered with shaggy white fur. They are advanced enough to carry weapons, even if only clubs and stone blades, and are able to converse with one another (whether an outsider would ever get the chance to communicate is a whole other question).

They are indeed a variety of ogre, meaning they are of faerie and not closely related to mortal men. They could be a people who have fallen back into a primitive lifestyle, adapting culturally and physically to the harsh conditions of the high mountains, or they could be an offshoot of the early lineage of the fay. I’m inclined to the first of these choices but it need not be decided one way or the other. Being of the fay, they would have some capabilities for magic. None are at all likely to be powerful sorcerers. They should be able to ‘speak from afar’ to their fellows, and others with magical talent.

Those snow-ogres who trailed and threatened Malvern never had the opportunity to attack, turning tail when a dragon showed up. What might they have had in mind? Maybe they only wished to drive strangers from their territory. More likely, they would have eaten those strangers, given the opportunity. Perhaps, should we encounter the creatures again, we’ll learn something of their dietary habits.

Will we encounter them in some future story? There are other high mountains and, it is to be assumed, more tribes of snow-ogres. It is also likely that their numbers are few, at least in Exura. In other worlds? Who can say? They might well serve some god or another elsewhere. They are certainly waiting in the wings should I wish to use them again.

Conlangs

Tolkien invented an invented language for his stories, the ‘Black Speech’ that Sauron created for his followers in Mordor. That’s the language in which the inscription on the One Ring is written. So Sauron essentially invented a conlang (a ‘constructed language’), just as Tolkien himself did for his elves.

I did something similar for the sorcerer Hurasu, who created a language for those he ruled in the valley of the Tez, aka the Valley of Visions. Hurasu is, to be sure, a much more benevolent fellow than Sauron and primarily wanted a logical language with no historical baggage. Or he may just have been bored and was filling his time with one more project. The language he created, Zikem, has its own unique structure and grammar but most of the words are borrowed from Etruscan, which Hurasu had learned when he spent a couple centuries in our world. He preferred not to use the language of his home world, Atlantis, as he felt that might attract undesirable attention.

The people over whom he ruled were, for the most part, of Austronesian ancestry and had their own dialects coming from Melanesian and Australian roots. Some of the words from their older languages did survive and pop up here and there in my narratives.

 

The Manticore

A preliminary note: the name manticore comes from a Roman transcription mistake of the Greek martichora. which in turn comes from the Persian, with the meaning ‘man eater.’ Hurasu and his people in the Valley of Visions use the martichora name, which has become mardagoru among the Mora.

The manticore is a large flightless avian  dinosaur that haunts the high mountains. We have encountered it only in ‘Valley of Visions,’ where a party of Mora is attacked while crossing from the Gurang valley to that of the Tez. They do recognize it avian nature. It is likely to be found elsewhere in Exura but would not be common.

It stands higher than a man, when rearing upright, but is lightly built, with hollow bones. It appears to have a short, manlike face with forward-facing eyes, but in fact has a heavy, jagged beak or snout that might be mistaken for a nose. Around the bare head is a thick ruff, dark in color, that gives the appearance of a lion’s mane. (The griffin has a similar ruff but the two are probably not closely related.) The ruff is of feathers, as is the downy, tawny ‘fur’ that covers its body.

There is a long, club-like tail, with a knob of fused feathers that can be used a weapon, delivering the killing blow to whatever prey the manticore has grasped. Hook-like claws (somewhat similar in appearance to those of a mantis) are suited both to hunting and climbing in steep, rocky environments. Rows of short, stiff, and sharp feathers run along the forelegs and the tail.

The manticore is an ambush hunter of the mountains, its typical prey being goats, marmots, and other small mammals.

Calendars

A week of seven days is natural if one divides a lunar month of twenty-eight days into quarters. That is almost certainly the reason we use seven. The weeks can start on recognizable phases of the moon, new, quarter, full. Of course, a twenty-eight day month does not mesh that well with a twelve month, 365 day year, so most calendars end up being something of a mess of compromises and contradictions.

Twelve months, to be sure, are a tidy way of dividing the year. If each were equal, mostly likely at thirty days, there are only five days left over. Those can be addressed in various ways, as outside the normal sequence of days and weeks. A thirteen month year has its own advantages and disadvantages; it does not line up with the solstices and equinoxes in the same manner as twelve months.

That may or may not be bothersome to a society. If we do use a thirty day month, the weeks needn’t be of seven days. Ten or five might do as well, or six, for that matter. Or, as long as we are not tying the months to the moon, they might be of some other length altogether. Forty-five, for example—half of a season. That could be divided neatly into weeks of five or nine days.

All these are things to be considered in world-building. They do assume a world with the same length of year and phases of the moon as our own; both fantasy and science fiction may have to deal with worlds with completely different rules. The Exura where most of my fantasy fiction is set does not present this difficulty, but I do keep in mind that other worlds are not necessarily the same.

I have given my Mura the thirteen month calendar. Yes, with seven day weeks. They do not line up at all with the seasons, though the solstices and equinoxes do always end up on the same date. Only one day is not named as a normal day, belonging to neither a week nor a month, and that is the New Year Day, celebrated at the spring equinox. On leap years, an extra day is inserted just before it. These are the names of the months, as use in the Muram Empire:

the Month of the Ram — March 21 to April 17
the Month of the Fox — April 18 to May 15
the Month of the Bull — May 16 to June 12
the Month of the Rooster — June 13 to July 10
the Month of the Grasshopper — July 11 to August 7
the Month of the Lion — August 8 to September 4
the Month of the Fish — September 5 to October 2
the Month of the Hawk — October 3 to October 30
the Month of the Horse — October 31 to November 27
the Month of the Wolf — Novemeber 28 to December 25
the Month of the Crow — December 26 to January 22
the Month of the Rabbit — January 23 to February 19
the Month of the Frog — February 20 to March 19

New Year Day — March 20

Most of the old Muram kingdoms across the Greater Sea from the Empire utilize some variant of this calendar, although the names of the months may differ. It was never adopted, however, by the Sharshites or other nationalities ruled by the Mura at some point. We can take a look at some of their calendars another time.

Dark

Very few people of African heritage ever traveled through either gate from Earth to Exura. This is not to say none did; we have mentioned Henry Wise, an African-American sailor who arrived with the crew of The Double-Lucky. It is possible others passed through the gate in the South Pacific as he did. The Ural Gate seems less likely but a soldier or traveler (or even slave) of African origin could have found their way there.

This is not to say people of dark skin did not reach Exura. Indeed, quite a few found their ways through both gates, though the two groups were not at all closely related to each other. Ice-age ‘moderns’ did make their way to the Urals and hence to the isle of Nagi in Exura, becoming an important component of the early population there and spreading throughout the world. These would have been folk dark of skin, though not ‘black,’ and frequently light of eye.

The Pacific Gate is quite another matter. Papuans, indigenous Australians, and related populations were almost certainly the first humans to venture out far enough into the ocean to be drawn through the gate. Chances are most of those early travelers were lost individuals who wandered unintentionally into the area. They were followed by Melanesians, who were excellent sailors and folk who voyaged far and confidently. There are definitely lots of Melanesian genes floating about Exura.

It may also be noted that there is an obvious element of indigenous Australian heritage and genetics in Hurasu’s valley, though mixed with that of other ethnic groups. The Baxac folk have more of a Melanesian background, and some elements of Papuan culture. That is certainly noticeable in their gods.

Yet the blond hair that pops up in the Melanesian population of our world is uncommon among the Baxac people. Not so in Hurasu’s valley of the Tez. None of this is, perhaps, unexpected when we recognize that these were very small groups that passed through the Pacific Gate—relatively sparse gene pools that gave rise to isolated populations in Exura, as they scattered across the seas of a new world.

It is just possible a few members of the proto-Australoid population did wander as far north as the Urals as they migrated eastward through the Middle East and India. If so, their heritage was absorbed into that of other arrivals in Nagi.

We speak of Lady Fachalana (of the ‘Destiny’ novels) being dark—for a Sharshite—and of the Lorjam origin of her grandfather. This would be essentially a Baxac heritage, Austronesian, not African.

Monitor

This Monstrous Monitor, considerably larger than today's largest monitor lizard, the Komodo Dragon, once roamed Australia. I had my castaways encounter something decidedly similar in the first Mora novel, COAST OF SPEARS (Book One of the Malvern Trilogy). 'Coast,' although not my first-written fantasy novel, actually goes back the furthest in its conception, all the way to ideas I had as a teen. It only took forty years or so for them to find their way to a book.

I do mention other smaller monitors elsewhere in the Mora novels. Some of them still rather large, perhaps, but none have been life-threatening. So far!

Getting Set Up

This blog/site is intended as a place for information about the various fantasy novels of Stephen Brooke that make up the Izan Mythos. Stuff that doesn't really belong at his author site (stephenbrooke.com). You know, maps and all those sorts of goodies.

I think the look is reasonably acceptable at the moment. We'll fuss with that and start putting stuff up. By the way, all the books are available from Arachis Press (arachispress.com) as print paperbacks or free ebooks. Drop by and take a look.