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unicornduke has to play this real loud after M-L’s alarm has been going
off and making the dog bark
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morvran voorhis, nilfgaard, the witcher, fic update, series update
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Due to my failure to anticipate quite how much of Fit For Pearls there was going to be, I made some structural choices, and so instead of just having straight-ahead sequels I gotta go back and fill in some earlier material.
Instead of literally any of the things I meant to, I very quickly wrote this backfill story set in late summer of 1271, because it was for some reason easier to do than any of the complicated stuff I need to do. Listen this is my idea of being gentle with myself.
So I present to you, in atonement for a blank Friday, this nice little Monday update of a standalone short prequel.
The Boy General, on AO3 https://archiveofourown.org/works/40719273.
Yeah mostly this is me being like “CDPR please google how military ranks work and what a division is” to go alongside my overarching thesis of “CDPR, this book character was described as a child in 1268 why is he 45 in 1271?”
[Here is the quick result of my research: 1) officers: start as lieutenant -> captain -> major -> lt. colonel -> colonel -> major general -> lieutenant general -> general - maybe a marshal?. (in different systems there may be more fine gradations of generalship but there are gonna be like five guys who get that far for it to matter anyway; this is the basic outline.) 2) an Army or Group is made of several Corps commanded by a lieutenant general or general, and a Corps is made of a handful of Divisions commanded by a major general or maybe lieutenant general, and a Division is commanded by a colonel or major general at most, and so if Morvran is 1) 18, 2) a general, and 3) in command of a division, something is sort of hinky. Before you protest that the modern US Army is not the same as the Nilfgaardian Army, no I know, but Sapkowski organized his shit this way too because guess what, he was writing about WWII, at least in part, and people who miss that do miss a lot of the point of the books. And military ranks work the way they do for reasons, but. Whatever. Okay. Here.]
anyway. i still have to go make Fit For Pearls into a series. I’ll get there. Meanwhile here.
“I’m sure,” Braibant said, “that you’ve had very high expectations placed on you for most of your life, and as such you likely believe that it’s possible to do everything perfectly. But that’s just not how war works, Voorhis.”
The mask fell away, and just for a moment, the boy looked at him with huge, tragic eyes, unnervingly pale blue, tired and frightened. Braibant bit down ruthlessly on his desire to embrace the poor child, and just looked back at him. Voorhis pulled himself together after a moment, setting his jaw, and if he couldn’t quite get the tragic look out of his eyes at least he broke the eye contact. “Well,” he said, and it was a little hollow but he was making a credible stab at resolute, “I still have room for improvement.” (Your picture was not posted)
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[grabs your shirt] listen. listen to me. the practical is holy. the everyday is sacred. the simple act of surviving is divine. do you get it? sanctity begins at home, in the hands that build and the lives we live and the deaths we die and the worms that eat our bodies. if making something by hand is not worthy of veneration then nothing is. (Your picture was not posted)
