Friday, October 10, 2008

All Work and No Play

We wrote. Coffee was drunk. Wine was swilled. Arguments followed. And pages began to churn forth from the grinding wheels of our printers. Oddly enough, we did not try to kill each other. Plotted, yes, but never executed.

I wanted a character, a savage German prisoner, chained inside the Roman fort. Every day our Centurion Caelius would interact with him and try to learn about the enemy as the hours ticked closer to the time when the approaching Germanic hordes would surround the fort.

It didn't work. Since the "savage" couldn't speak Latin without raising some unanswerable questions, we decided instead to replace him with a scout employed by the Romans. This new fellow would be a Britannic Celt, covered in tattoos, and would ultimately give us some of our best moments and dialogue.

His name was Ferox, part mystic, part warrior. He burned like a pale blue fire in our story. I was starting to think we were onto something.

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