Combining DS with literature.

[Deleted]

It's very apparent that many in the DS community are creative, be it our high ratio of musicians:listeners or the amount of artists we have knocking around etc. What I haven't seen much of however is writers among our ranks. As much of the music we listen to is inspired by great literary works, and many listeners are instantly inspired to get creative themselves, I thought perhaps we could find a way of channeling our communities creativity down the literary path as well. 

My initial idea is short fiction, written while / after listening to a piece of dungeon synth which wasn't inspired by literature. Reverse engineering what commonly does, if you will. Giving the music words rather than giving the words their soundtrack. 

So if anyone is interested I'd like to see what short fictional works people can come up with relating to a single album. Simply state the album or track you're writing for and tell us your vision of the story of that audio. 

If anyone has any other ideas of how we could combine the two, I'd also be interested in hearing those. In addition to that, maybe some might want to comment on why they think less people in our community get creative with their writing when compared to the high number of artists and musicians we have. Or maybe you can think of another talking point altogether!

[Ananoriel]

Sounds like a very interesting idea, perhaps we can mix it perhaps with the maps from this thread. 
I listen most often to dungeon synth before going to sleep and I like thinking of stories with the music. Perhaps I should write some ideas down, and make stories from it.

[nahadoth]

Interesting - will be quite intrigued to see the result. I wrote a short story to go along with the CD-R I produced of my first album, Faces of Winter, and for the moment it's exclusive to that release - and I'm also revising a story I wrote to go along with my second release, which will appear in the physical release there - but for the time being can be found on my facebook page in serial form.

[chaucerianmyth]

Wow, I have to say, nahadoth has a great idea there, for DS artists to release short stories along with their releases. I think that's something we should more into.

[Wraethean]

Jan 10, 2017 17:49:12 GMT -5 chaucerianmyth said:

Wow, I have to say, nahadoth has a great idea there, for DS artists to release short stories along with their releases. I think that's something we should more into.

The closest parallel to a fully-fledged story/world along with DS music I can think of is the liner notes to Mortiis' The Stargate, and the accompanying book. Obviously, something a bit more fleshed-out (and sans cliffhanger) would be preferable, but it's a great starting point for how best to link music and literature, for those that intend to go down that path.

[andrewwerdna]

Jan 10, 2017 3:55:57 GMT -5 @anglezarke said:

It's very apparent that many in the DS community are creative, be it our high ratio of musicians:listeners or the amount of artists we have knocking around etc. What I haven't seen much of however is writers among our ranks. As much of the music we listen to is inspired by great literary works, and many listeners are instantly inspired to get creative themselves, I thought perhaps we could find a way of channeling our communities creativity down the literary path as well. 

My initial idea is short fiction, written while / after listening to a piece of dungeon synth which wasn't inspired by literature. Reverse engineering what commonly does, if you will. Giving the music words rather than giving the words their soundtrack. 

So if anyone is interested I'd like to see what short fictional works people can come up with relating to a single album. Simply state the album or track you're writing for and tell us your vision of the story of that audio. 

If anyone has any other ideas of how we could combine the two, I'd also be interested in hearing those. In addition to that, maybe some might want to comment on why they think less people in our community get creative with their writing when compared to the high number of artists and musicians we have. Or maybe you can think of another talking point altogether!

I did this on my blog for a little while. It starts with Soulside Eclipse - Forgotten Conquest and proceeds upward. It was a pretty powerful way to engage with the music.

[Deleted]

Jan 12, 2017 10:07:54 GMT -5 andrewwerdna said:

Jan 10, 2017 3:55:57 GMT -5 @anglezarke said:

I did this on my blog for a little while. It starts with Soulside Eclipse - Forgotten Conquest and proceeds upward. It was a pretty powerful way to engage with the music.

I like it, this is exactly what I was thinking about. I think i'll have to give it a go myself.

[Verminaard]

I wrote a little blurb to accompany Lorac's Folly that appears in the Bandcamp description and will also be coming as a printout in the physical version of the album, but to be fair I can't claim credit for the story -- it's entirely from the Dragonlance books by Weis & Hickman, just summarized and reworded.

"348 AC -- the Dragonarmies of Takhisis run amok upon Ansalon, painting swaths of terror and totalitarian rule across the land. First fell Nordmaar to their wrath under the gaze of Dragon Highlord Phair Caron, and New Sea was toppled in turn by the blows of Highlord Kitiara Uth Matar. The peoples of Ansalon hold their collective breath and brace themselves to resist the encroaching tide of unholy might -- save for Lorac Caladon, Speaker of the Stars for the Silvanesti elves. Lorac wanted no part of this war, and, after welcoming emissaries from the Dragonarmies, agreed to keep his people removed from the conflict so long as the flood of darkness would not sweep through their sacred groves and cities of white spires.

Duulket Ariakas, commander of the Dragonarmies, agreed to this proposition -- and Lorac, in his foolishness, believed his twisting words.

In 349 AC, the Dragon Highlord Phair Caron broke the treaty. Takhisis' Dragonarmies stormed through Silvanesti, pillaging and burning as they put the elves' feeble resistance to the blade. Desperate to save his people, Lorac sent his kingdom into exile. All of the surviving inhabitants of Silvanesti fled to Southern Ergoth by any means they could as Lorac made one last effort to save his homeland.

In an attempt to stop the dragons that reduced his forests to ash and blackened his cities, Lorac drew forth the most powerful artifact in the treasuries of the Silvanesti -- a Dragon Orb. He laid his hand upon it, attempting to bend it to his will.

He was shattered.

Lorac, an accomplished mage in his own right, was still not powerful enough to reign in the power of the Orb. The artifact wrapped itself around Lorac's mind. He was plunged into a deep, eldritch sleep, where the spirits of his people slaughtered wailed; where the trees of his kingdom wept blood; where nightmares ruled with an iron fist -- and the Orb twisted the lands of Silvanesti to match the tortured dreams of its ruler.

Now, Lorac's surviving daughter, Alhana, has brought you here with your companions in the year of 351 AC, to pierce through the unholy gloom of Silvanesti, to make your way to the Tower of the Stars in the heart of Silvanost where Lorac sits upon his throne, to wake him from his madness. You are the last hope for the Silvanesti.

You are the last chance to undo Lorac's great folly."

[nazgaldracul]

I wrote this story to go along with my next album that is currently in the works.

I ask for the hearing of all the kindred
greater and lesser sons of man
It is my wish to properly tell
the ancient tales of war and corruption
which are earliest remembered

I remember the days before the dark age
When the sons of Galrakh roamed the earth
The earth provided both soil and water
Life still grew both trees and man
No one saw the dark sky rise

First came the plague and festered the soil
And with it came the Balak
The rotten people both in flesh and mind
They cared not for life nor for honor
And only rot would be left on their path

Second came the fires from the north
Burning through the woods of Drakh Al-Zuul
Rage of the ancient gods manifest
It cared not for life nor growth
And only ashes was left in its path

Third came greed amongst men
Brothers and kinsmen turned to war
Not the soil nor water could quench their thirst
Not the death nor blood could dampen their flame
Only poverty death and hunger left in its path

The age of Galrakh was quick to end
Corruption and war soon followed
The remaining tribes and the ancient orders
was called to arms by the invading Balak
Led by Balak Gaahl the conquerer

Through the plague the Balak grew stronger
In the ashes of Drakh Al-Zuul they claimed their kingdom
The ones great and mighty forest
Now wastelands and host of industry of war
The force of death outgrew the force of life

The wood of the trees exchanged for sharp metal
The song of birds exchanged for drums of war
The hope of man buried beneath the fear of darkness
Only through death there will be peace
As such was the song of the rotten ones

Thus came the dark age
The age of steel and fire
Not much was left of the sons of Galrakh
Through their own means and of darker power
Hope was scarce for the line of men

Yet all was not lost for man and his kin
For the bravery of man can not be matched
Faced with the hordes of Balak Gaahl
The sons of Galrakh took to arms
And brothers united at the threat of doom

No poems were written and no songs were sung
In the face of death they gathered their strength
The march began for the line of Galrakh
To the plains of Falroth at the foot of Drakh Al.Zuul
There should be the final battle

Upon arrival there could be heard
Battle drums from the once mighty wasteland
And soon they came in massive hordes
The rotten flesh of the Balak
Led by Balak Gaahl

Many thousand festering evils
Armed with crude axes swords and fire
The stench of death turned stomachs miles away
The sound of their march heard twice as far
The army of the plagued as a sea of evil

At first the earth stood still
Not sound to be heard for miles away
The sons of Galrakh were vastly outnumbered
And fear lit up in their eyes
Yet they did not flee

With the sound of trumpets the charge began
Swords clashed and flesh was cut
Arrows flew and bodies fell
The plains of falroth colored red
The sons of Galrakh stood their ground

In the front of the Balak stood Balak Gaahl
At least a yard above the rest
He fought with the strength of a hundred men
His armor shining with mortal blood
He fell many men that day

He pushed forward with great strength
A sight had caught his eye
Amongst the troops stood Eirfir
The hero of Falroth and slayer of Balak
Around him his foes laid slain

Balak Gaahl yelled with a roaring voice
And Eirfir gripped his sword
They charged each other with hate in their eyes
Their metal clashed so sparks flew into the air
The duel of titans began

The battle kept on till sunrise
Many sons of Galrakh had fallen
Amongst the corpses the titans still fought
Both bloodied and tired
Hope was fading for the weary men

As the sun rose it cast light on the battle
And hit the eyes of Balak Gaahl
Eirfir seized his chance and raised his sword
The blade cut through both armor and flesh
And the warlord of the Balak fell

The Balak fled to the forest of ashes
No son of Galrakh followed
The losses were high on both sides
No songs were sung that day
Stricken with grief for their fallen brothers

Thus ends this ancient tale

[crystallogic13]

Nice , thanx for sharing, the final paragraphs of the battle kept me interested on the outcome! And good to share again when you release the music to complete the drawing of the atmosphere you create!

[nazgaldracul]

Apr 5, 2017 15:00:04 GMT -5 crystallogic13 said:

Nice , thanx for sharing, the final paragraphs of the battle kept me interested on the outcome! And good to share again when you release the music to complete the drawing of the atmosphere you create!

Thanks. With my new album i continued the story:


Fall of the kingdom of Eirfir



When the battle of Falroth had ended and Balak Gaahl laid fallen, the sons of Galrakh had no land for them to return. Their settlements had been burned by the invading Balak and the earth was still festered with the plague. Disagreement rose amongst the line of Galrakh and they decided to go separate ways. Some went south to the ocean, these later became the boatsmen of Sarath. Some went east to the mountains where the ancient fortress of Galrakh stood, these later became the miners of Arkhal. Some went north to reclaim the forest of Drakh Al-Züül and to hunt the remaining Balak, these was later known as the bandit tribes of the forest.



Eirfir and the remaining sons of Galrakh settled amongst the grasslands of Falroth. They built castles and strongholds. With silver they cleansed the earth so life once more grew. The line of man rose from the ashes of the ancient wars and ended the dark age. What was left of the Balak was never again seen, hunted down by the settlers of Drakh Al-Züül. The forest grew tall and wildlife returned. At the throne sat Eirfir, elected king by the settlers of Falroth.



He reigned for many years and for many years there were peace. All survivors of the ancient wars had grown strong. All of Nazgal settled with the line of men, both young and old. From the grasslands of Falroth they got wheat and cattle. From the mountains of Arkhal they got silver and iron. The settlers of Sarath supplied fish and they got timber from Drakh Al-Züül. Wealth and supply was shared amongst brethren. These were the laws of Eirfir, the hero of the battle of Falroth and king of Nazgal.



Years went by and Eirfir grew older. He had no sons or kin to claim his throne. In time the hero of the battle of Falroth passed, as is the fate of all men. His songs were sung and glasses raised in his memory. With no king to rule the kingdom uneasy times quickly rose. Years went by and no one agreed upon who should take the throne. The miners of Arkhal claimed the kingdom as theirs, but the men of Falroth said it was the right of the line of Eirfir. The woodsmen and boatsmen of north and south wanted no king at all.



Corruption amongst men quickly grew. For political gains brethren would betray and repay betrayal with lies. It did not take long before men once again prepared for war. Though instead of fighting the rotten warlords of the Balak they now faced their brethren. The kingdom divided itself into four factions. Falroth to the west, Drakh Al-Züül to the north, Arkhal to the east and Sarath far south. The miners of Arkhal built of silver and rare gems a throne and claimed it their kingdom while the farmers and horsemen of Falroth still claimed all of Nazgal for the heir of Eirfir.



Thus the first war of men began. With no leader the men of Falroth was called to arms. With heavy armor and longswords they began to march, some by foot and some by horse. For days they marched to the foot of the mountains of Arkhal. Thousands of men heavily armed began to climb the mountain. At first they met no resistance and thought victory was theirs already, but the men of Arkhal knew the mountains and had seen their intruder.



The men of Falroth reached the fortress of Galrakh, deep in the mountains. Tired they set up camp and laid siege. With machines they threw rocks of fire towards the massive stone walls, yet the walls showed no sign of damage. For a day they shot both rocks and arrows, but no sign of life was shown. They grew tired at last and fell asleep. When the men of Falroth went to their tents the men of Arkhal showed their strength. They lined up at the top of the mountain while the siege camp laid right underneath them sleeping. With the signal of horns they pushed giant rocks down the mountainside on the still sleeping enemy.



Many of the men of Falroth fell before they knew of the attack. Crushed to shreds by the rocks falling from the mountainside. Those who could still stand grabbed their weapons and charged against the ancient fortress of Galrakh. They were met with a volley of arrows from the fortress walls, piercing both armor and bone. Then the gates opened and out ran the men of Arkhal, well rested and ready for battle. The army of Falroth stood its ground, but the hordes of mountain was too strong. One by one the army fell. Many slipped on the rocks covered with blood. Around laid corpses crushed and disformed.



Through the entire night the slaughter continued. Until almost no man of Falroth still stood. Stricken with fear they sounded retreat and the men of Arkhal let them run. Out of many thousands only about a hundred remained. When they returned to their lands there were no men left to work the soil or to run the castles. Once the seat of a mighty kingdom it became deserted. The survivors settled amongst the remains. Whatever strength they could gather went to rebuilding their forces. They knew the war had just began.



As such is the story of the fall of the kingdom of Eirfir.

[Niair de Nasqda]

Jan 10, 2017 3:55:57 GMT -5 @anglezarke said:

My initial idea is short fiction, written while / after listening to a piece of dungeon synth which wasn't inspired by literature. Reverse engineering what commonly does, if you will. Giving the music words rather than giving the words their soundtrack. 

So if anyone is interested I'd like to see what short fictional works people can come up with relating to a single album. Simply state the album or track you're writing for and tell us your vision of the story of that audio.

Lithine from Moonolith actually did this already with a track of mine (from Kasjchq) and I'm almost sure she hasn't seen this thread. She came up with a story as she "visualised" it while listening to my track. I adapted that story to make it have a bit more literary coherence.

If you are interested you can read it in the post I made in this forum or in the bandcamp page of the track

[crypticdungeon]

I kind of wrote a little piece for my new demo too, I know I'm not a real writer but I had fun with it so whatever

vagorsynth.bandcamp.com/album/chronicles-of-izanoth-i-teth

Here goes:

''Izanoth
Izanoth is a world of fantasies. Landscapes so extraterrestrial, our known earth wouldn’t even come close to. Creatures and races far beyond our imagination roam the divided provinces of the plane of Izanoth: some humanoid, some not.
Each of the provinces has their own view on magick, and their different beliefs in the arcane arts have even more so divided the land. An ancient war has made the world desolate. Where once great civilizations stood tall, now only small communities of descendants are left, barely managing to survive.
In each of the Chronicles, I will have my mind travel to a different part of the plane of Izanoth, and let the surroundings and history of an ancient culture inspire me to compose. I will try my best to capture the atmosphere and the stories that I see in my mind when I’m there. And I hope to entertain some people on the way.

Teth
The first issue of the Chronicles Of Izanoth will take place in the land of Teth. Books from long ago describe the magick of Teth as colorless, lifeless. Wizards used their powers to animate lifeless objects and machinery, in an artificial world. Great cities were connected through advanced ways of magickal technology. Some of the ruins still stand tall and shelter small communities of leftover Tethians. Even though there isn’t much left of their advanced technology, some cults of wizards still try to revive the old cities, to no avail as of yet.
In this land we see almost nothing of organic nature; no trees, no plains of grass and almost no fauna. Every ‘’living’’ creature that resides in this province breathes through artificial means and colorless magick, but as magick is slowly fading, so are the artificial lifeforms of Teth. You will mostly see empty ruins and desolate valleys, with nothing alive.
Teth’s shores are made of iron, and have been rusted and deformed by years of cold sea waves. Salty waves come crashing down upon the iron landscape daily, on a shore where nothing is alive but the sea. The smell of the sea and of corroded metal is what you perceive all throughout the mountains and valleys of Teth. Come explore the ruins with me, in search of a history of one of the greatest and most organized civilizations of Izanoth, where almost nothing is left, only a handful of communities who are slowly fading away in their failed attempts at rebuilding their old civilization.''

[caradhras]

I'm experimenting with this idea myself. I was thinking it'd be really interesting to release zines along with a DS release that contain comics, poetry and a general story for the album, sort of like a compendium to guide the listener through the music. Now onwards to creating!

[skeleton]

Apologies for the necropost, but this is a fantastic way to be inspired to create. Upon discovering DS, different albums transported me to places unknown. My imagination wandered into darkened corners none seek to look. I am no musician, but I am a bit of a writer with colourful prose. I'd love to collaborate with the community and lend my pen to the more musically inclined masters, given the opportunity.

A realm came to me while I was ensorcelled amidst the likes of Burzum and Chaucerian Myth. A dark, godless place, where man fears the shapes crawling amidst the shadow. My imagination has been spellbound by this place within the mind, and I am continuing to explore it in dreams, capturing it with words and a helpful hand from dungeon synth.

I present to you cavern crawlers and arcane masters of cosmic realms: a brief history and look into This Realm, and the miasmic dark fantasy woven within.


This Realm

"Chaos is the raw, primordial form of true balance. And in the creation of humanity, I decided to carve them from Chaos itself." - Zemouregal, in the middle of a cup of tea with the Man of Many Stories.

This realm we live in is a depressing, dreary place. A realm now without a god. A canvas without its painter.

Once a place of mutual knowledge, truth, and understanding, man was free to roam the land and swell with experience and adventure, under the shaping of Zemouregal. Traits like individuality, curiosity and neutrality were nurtured, and many civilisations of men with different ideologies and understandings were borne from this primordial fruit.

There were many forces bent on destroying man and its increasing foothold on This Realm, but that was all part of a truly neutral existence. Zemouregal did not favor. He simply watched. Humanity rose of its own accord as the predominant race, seeking out more land, fighting back against other races and creatures from the dark to survive.

Centuries have passed since Zemouregal walked the land. The free lands of men have been overrun by other, often animalistic races. Creatures borne of bone, spirit and shadow now walk along barren roads, crumbled ruins, doing away with those unfortunate enough to be wandering.

The last vestiges of mankind now reside within their Three Kingdoms, erecting a lengthy wall, surrounded by mountain and hewn from stone between themselves and the rest of This Realm.

Man no longer follows in His way; of truth and knowledge. They follow their own whim; delusions of power, ruling over their fellow men with blades of iron and shackles of fear. Predominantly ruled by these men of much power or wealth, the common folk fearing nothing but consequence from their kin, and punishment in not living and following in their law.

In other words, true intentions are kept only in the mind, and never spoken aloud in fear of losing the upper hand in this constructed game of life. Act first, lest you become the actor.

Knowledge became power. Hiding it from those less fortunate to be beneath the boot. Without knowledge, there is no wisdom, understanding, nor truth. The people are now blind.

The kingdoms keep the surrounding darkness at bay, providing safety and comfort to commoners under their rule. But is this a life worth living? Blinded by the stubbornness of Kings? The delusions of men with more power than sense?

There are many creatures beyond the safety of the wall. Festering beyond the shadows. But there are many secrets; many stories. Many truths. An entire world out there lost to time, and lost to man.

Will you seek knowledge man forgot? Or will you fall prey to the shadows, whether they are of the mind, or of the body?

Time comes for all things. It came for Him.