Like I said last year, I want to rewrite the old parts of Snowy Ground; it’s nearly two and a half years old and I’ve changed and grown a ton since I started writing it. Snowy Ground’s purpose has changed since I started to write it. So the first post of my rewrite will come on the 15th of February, 2023.
As the new versions of each post come out the old versions will be copied and moved to a new tab called “Archive” wherein you can see the old versions of everything written as I do these rewrites.
I will still make small changes here and there as I consider this website mostly drafts but a place for growth. But with this large-scale overhaul, I’ll announce each week when I’ve replaced a chapter. There isn’t a set schedule for the replacements, it’ll just happen when it happens but the first part will be replaced on the 15th of February.
One of the notable changes you’ll find is that I’m giving each chapter a name and a numeric code. Something I learned from Path of Rain, as well as an improvement.
Have a sample of Snowy Ground Chapter 1, Part 1, “Life: Almost As It’s Ever Been”
“Yoo’ll be able tae handle et up here? This is one of the trickier posts tae be nailed tae.” She askes, posturing herself to leave. Skipflock nodded in return with simple affirmative words. At his word and wave she was on her way down the path. The journey down Thamdul mountain was as usual, ice never was where one needed it to be, it chipped and cracked like strands of lightning under Clemnilshala and Rigmol’s weight. Rigmol groaned the whole way in reply to create a chorus with the crackling.
They passed three other greenhorns, greener greenhorns, fresher in their shiny new cloaks, headed up to that spot. It often took more dwarf power to keep the peak of Thamdul in place. They look up at Clemnilshala, talk to one another of how they would get past without falling. The path was narrow and Rigmol and Clemnilshala were huge. They crouch and walk underneath. Her long tail strokes along their hoods and shoulders before falling down their backs. Then they go underneath Rigmol who noses at their shoulders and sniffs for treats.
She stops at Foxeye Station for water and washing up of the face and the spaces behind the ears. The dwarves here were good people too, familiar to her face. They smile and call her by name before returning to their businesses. A young foundationeer reads poetry from an antique journal from a mountaineer whose spirit had become one with the wind
Chapter 1
Thank you, as always, for your patience with me. I want to work doubly hard to regain any faith you had in me to bring you entertainment as we enter the new year together.
I will bring another announcement when I post my first lore page. As well as my first pleasant image.
Rozlun Egsby Writes 