Well actually I got it four days ago, but I wanted to hold off on posting about it because I wanted to do it at the same time as something else I was also expecting. That something else is taking its sweet time getting here though, so I’ll be posting on it later. [UPDATE: It arrived! See below.]
If you’re a frequent visitor to Tyrant King Productions, you may have noticed that there is a category here called Mesozoica, which deals with a fictional dinosaur park. And, since it’s probably a safe bet that a lot of readers of Tyrant King Productions are into dinosaurs, you may also have noticed that there is a dinosaur park simulator game in development called Mesozoica. And there’s a slight problem with that: they’re two different projects.
When we finally do make it back to the outpost some hours later, the man Gina had shot is barely hanging on. She tries to follow as he’s rushed to a medic, but Rikotel intercepts her and sends her to the barracks instead. She nods meekly and obeys; after Nadira’s death and then accidentally shooting one of her comrades, the poor girl is an absolute wreck. Rikotel watches her go, sighs, and motions for us to follow him outside onto the dock.
I wrote elsewhere about the attitudes towards sex and gender roles among some of the many different ethnic groups living in Gondolendia in the past, and since I’ve since had a few new ideas as well I thought I’d do the same here now.
The dragonrider breathed deep the cold, clean air of the open sky. All around her it stretched, above and on all sides, a brilliant shining blue broken only by white clouds and the curving horizon far below. The air was thin up here, but she was accustomed to it. This was her element. She felt the wind’s chill on her cheeks and pulled her scarf up higher; the rest of her was wrapped up tightly in thick sheepskin, well protected against the biting cold at this height.
Vestay 12, 642
Not long after we encounter the sobek it stops raining, as we pass under what must be a gap in the clouds. I’m surprised by the profound change in our surroundings now that the air isn’t filled with falling water. The light filtering down through the canopy high above takes on an ethereal blue-green glow, and by midday it’s as though we’re traveling through an immense flooded cavern, with its walls and ceiling covered with greenery and its air filled with the song of unseen birds. Clouds of mosquitoes swarm around us, but true to Gina’s word the blackroot keeps them at bay. Opportunistic dragonflies, some nearly half a foot long, swoop and dive through the whining clouds, accompanied by little dark brown fwits. If anything the humidity is even more stifling, but my mood is still brightened considerably.
I’ve long been a fan of the Predator franchise, but like a lot of others I haven’t always liked the directions a lot of the tie-in materials and sequels went with the lore. Rather than expanding on the hints at the predators’ society and culture we got from the movies and actually taking the effort to do something interesting, they basically turned them into a one-dimensional, monolithic culture of big game hunters obsessed with xenomorphs.
Vestay 11, 642
I’m applying my insect repellant for the day when Nadira plucks the stick from my hand and starts giving me advice in Isinic. She’s going for a good couple sentences when she notices my uncomprehending stare, realizes who she’s talking to, and gives me an apologetic smile before calling Gina over. Gina listens to her, nods, and then offers me a length of blackroot from the bag hanging from one of the main shelter’s supports.
Vestay 10, 642
It’s still dark out (I mean really dark) when Janusz shakes me awake and tells me I’m “gonna wanna see this.” I ask what “this” is, certain that whatever it is it couldn’t possibly be more interesting to me right now than going back to sleep, and he tells me he’s going to shoot Gina and Nadira’s morning sparring session. That gets me up; after years of hearing about the Isani penchant for fighting, I suppose I’d be a fool to pass up the chance to see it first-hand.
Hey there Tyrant King…ka….Kingkateers? Tyrant Kingkatee-no, that sounds stupid. Hey there, readers! As I implied the other day I have some more stuff to show you, so it’s time for yet another art dump! This one is wall to wall made-up dinosaurs. Indominus rex? Puh-lease. Step aside Jurassic World, and let the King show ya how it’s done.