Well, the Newsletter-Dragon tried to eat our cover, but we stopped her. She’s in a digital timeout right now so she can consider the error of her ways. Why did she try to eat our cover? We’re not sure, and she refuses to say. She just turns her back and shakes her head when we ask. I think she’s tired of the indecision that’s been tearing the cast apart this week.
But before we ask for your help to resolve that, we want to thank you. We received a lot of great feedback about our cover. You helped us put into words what’s working, and what’s not, and we’re grateful. But we’re back again to ask for help because we have a genuine dilemma on our hands. So here’s the latest.
Version 3 is in. Thoughts?
We like the magic. But I’m always happy when the magic’s around because I’m invincible. So I wouldn’t look scared. We did ask for Papa to hold me as he usually does. The designer said she couldn’t do that because I wouldn’t be visible. Can you see me, now?
The above image was created by our scribe. We loosed her on some 3d models and dressed them using the same clothes the models on our boxed set are wearing just as a test. (That cover is below for reference). It took 12 hours to find the right stuff and render this because I might have added every magical effect I could find.
What? I like magic, and she did leave her laptop unattended while she did laundry. What was I supposed to do? Wait patiently for her to come back? This is me we’re talking about.
Ignore our expressions and our faces. We can’t find the controls to modify those so we look a little goofy and nothing like our faces on the boxed set. We probably need to buy another module to fix that. But look, we have magic! And we probably need to tone that down. I’m sure there are controls for that somewhere in this program…
So, what do you think of our test? Should we go further down the 3d rabbit hole? We’re trying to get closer to this:
Last week, two books took Papa captive while I hung on with magical assistance. A third book dove for our scribe then the Newsletter-Dragon yanked the story so it focused on her. (How rude.) And the Queen Tree poked her branch into things. (I love her.)
All caught up? Great. If you missed an episode, all our back issues are conveniently listed in reverse chronological order here.
And now, back to the story… Take it away Auntie Sovvan …
She ran through the gray mists blowing away the sand under her feet.
I must save someone, said a voice inside her head, and that someone was more important than her own life.
So the voice repeated itself and she ran on, fighting the sand, the wind and her ankle-length gray skirt. Modesty kept her from hiking it up. A spark shot over her shoulder and danced with the mist shrouding everything including her name and her past. It spun, dervish-fast as light carved it into a bird.
“I’m not a bird,” the creature said as it landed on her palm. “I’m the Newsletter-Dragon reborn.”
“The Newsletter-Dragon reborn!” said the tiny creature as it stamped its clawed feet.
“Ouch, right now you’re a tiny pain in my hand.”
The dragon squeaked as the ground tilted and sand pummeled Sovvan. She tripped and slid on her belly toward a widening aperture while the dragon clung to her hand.
“Ouch. Would you hold onto something else? You have wings. You could fly to safety.”
But each prick was real in a world suddenly not. And she was falling toward a bright slash and a familiar green glow. I know those eyes. They belong to my twin.
The world went white as Sovvan collided with her most recent memories and slipped between the rough pages of a giant book. It squished her because things weren’t weird enough. Sovvan laughed as the world righted itself.
The Newsletter-Dragon squawked in indignation and dug its claws in drawing lavender blood as it sought a more stable perch.
“Ouch, would you stop that?”
Elsewhere, magic swarmed over glass panes and steel girders forcing them to flex. But they were touched by machines prior to installation, so Papa’s magic didn’t spread evenly through them. Several girders deformed, putting pressure on the glass. Panes shattered.
Firelight played on the deadly hail of glittering shards falling toward me. They struck the brilliant green sphere surrounding us instead. Not trusting its own shield, Papa’s magic shifted me away from those tiny daggers, but that was okay because it slipped me into Papa’s now free arms and I got a hug out of the deal before gravity grabbed us.
Papa can do many things, but flying isn’t one of them. So, he hugged me instead of windmilling his arms uselessly, and we fell. On our way down, we struck a giant feathery wing and knocked aside one of the books trying to capture our scribe. It started to shake.
“Papa, why’s the book dancing?”
“I think something’s emerging from it.”
He kicked the book right in its bending spine, and I stared at a familiar hand sprouting from its pages. It frantically flapped its giant wings to stay aloft as an arm followed that grasping hand then Auntie Sovvan’s head emerged. She blinked at us.
“Did I miss something?”
“I think a book ate you,” I said while Papa laughed.
“I’ll bet it’s regretting that,” he said as his magic clamped me to his chest. “Hold tight.”
He said that like I had a choice in the matter. We’ll be back next week with more.
Deals, Giveaways & Other Cool Stuff
Until next time, dear reader
This is your host, Ran, the 3D son of Sarn, wishing you a great week!
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