#dao prima guide

[tozettastone]

Thinking about populations in Thedas and specifically in Ferelden for a little story I'm thinking about. Long self indulgent thoughts extrapolating from what we know about thedosian cities, real life medieval castles, current small towns, etc. beneath the cut.

Denerim having around 70,000 people in 9:30 (presumably before the archdemon, which is I think either 9:30 or 9:31?) is a statistc people cite coming from Searle, Mike. "Traveler's Guide: Ferelden Details", Dragon Age: Origins Collector's Edition: Prima Official Game Guide. I don't have that but I also don't have any reason to think that those people are making this citation up. It's the biggest city in Ferelden.

The same Prima Official Game Guide is the citation used for Redcliffe village having 200-odd people in it. I think that number has to be separate and distinct from the castle, and that together the village and the castle should be at least (at least) 300 people, but probably more.

Even the amount of castle you see in inquisition and origins could support a staff so large that there'd be nobody to actually run or support the other stuff.

In the village, they've got the pub (Village Tavern, in origins, which is I assume the Gull and Lantern in Inquisition—unless they're separate, because I guess the map expands in Inquisition..? Let's assume they're the same for now), the chantry, the big mill, a general goods store, a blacksmith and a bunch of salespeople like that dwarven bookseller in the village.

By comparison, there's a 150 person modern town in Australia in my mind right now. It had one cop, one nurse and two teachers for a primary school that served about ten kids. You got all your goods at the same place, from tyres to fuel to fresh produce to frozen meats shipped from another state. It had a hotel, but pretty much only because it's often the last tourist stop before people hit their "outback adventure". And that's with the tourism floating it, and all sorts of modern engineering. (Wikipedia says it has an 80 kW geothermal power station as of 2012, the only one of its type in Australia. Who knew.)

Castles are designed to be able to garrison men at arms, and Redcliffe Castle has been a key part of Ferelden's defences for a long time, as well as being considered pretty formidable, which is something you talk about in both DAI and DAO. It's on the route through the frostback mountains and down past Lake Calenhad to the rest of the country: an Orlesian army comes down out of the mountains, hit the plains, and now has to either deal with Redcliffe or leave a live, fortified and angry enemy behind them, right?

A skeleton staff in a large fortified castle might be enough men at arms and whoever their military leader in residence is to just operate the place: raise and lower the bridges, open the gates, defend the place from looters. This did happen in medieval castles when nobody important was in residence and when no violence was expected, is my understanding. The opposite is when the family was at home, and violence was expected, which meant they'd cram hundreds and hundreds of combatants into a castle. Even in peace time, a family in residence also needed servants because every task was done laboriously and by hand.

Numbers for this kind of thing given by English Heritage (a conservation non-profit which looks after many historical castles and buildings in the UK) range from "140 knights and perhaps a thousand fully equipped soldiers" at Dover Castle in 1216, to "in peacetime, a small castle might have a garrison of only a dozen soldiers." One of the owners of Goodrich Castle is said to have "nearly 100 servants" when they were in residence.

I don't think there are in excess of 1200 people at Redcliffe Castle, either, to be honest. But they did have Dennet working there with "his herd" the whole of his life, so I think we can assume that there were enough men and horses there to require dedicated servants and facilities at all times.

It sounds like the Arl is kind of a homebody from the games, though—he's usually found there, except when Alexius (and Fiona I guess) kick him out of the place, or some massive drama is going on and he has to go to his Denerim estate. As far as I can tell, Redcliffe is a prosperous but pretty small area to govern, and there are definitely forts and manors but nothing to rival Redcliffe Castle.

(Aside: I think Redcliffe Castle, being the home of relatively wealthy nobility, might have *some* advantages over regular medieval castles in terms of work, because they're also between Orzammar and Denerim and on that trade route, and near the Circle at Kinloch: they'd have access to whatever enchantments could make their lives easier, which could definitely help with the labour of servants if they took advantage of it—frost runes, for example, could take a lot of the worry out of preserving the harvest for those late winter and early spring months.)

So on this basis, I think there's probably at *least* a hundred or so extra people living in Redcliffe Castle itself, and probably more depending on how that generation feels about Orlais. (The Ferelden rebellion was only like a generation ago though, like, Loghain is still alive and in active service, so... yeah. Probably more.)

So, options:

Redcliffe village itself has less than a hundred people and the population is counted with the castle's, but there's a lot of labour happening in its very immediate surrounds that is technically not defined as "the village"

Redcliffe village itself has 200 people and the castle's population is counted separately

I think option 2 is more likely, so now that I've worked that out for myself, I have a better basis to think about what kind of population the greater Redcliffe area, and the Hinterlands agricultural regions, are supporting—and how much grain, meat, wool, skin and other produce it takes to do that, and how much havoc the Blight wreaked upon their manpower, and if famine immediately followed, or if the population was depleted enough for that to be less of a problem...

Having done all that work thinking about Redcliffe, I'm just slapping an arbitrary 40,000 people in Amaranthine. It's smaller than Denerim, it's larger than Highever. But it's where the Chant was revealed and it's a large port city in Ferelden, and frequently a last stop before goods (or refugees lbr) sail to the Free Marches. 40k in 9:31 Dragon, done, and whether or not it's still that big by 9:41 Dragon depends entirely on if I decide to let the Warden Commander leave it for the darkspawn during their civil war. Bangs gavel.

(You may be able to tell, but the thing I was working on is set in and around Redcliffe, and only briefly touches on Amaranthine and Denerim.)

[illbefinealonereads]

Blog tour day! I offer you info and an excerpt from Where Dreams Descend by Janella Angeles.

Early Praise: "Janella Angeles steals the 2020 show with her fiercely imagined debut starring larger than life characters, a dangerous world alive with magic, and a dizzying dose of grab-a-fainting-couch-and-swoon-away romance!" - Roshani Chokshi, New York Times bestselling author of The Gilded Wolves "Where Dreams Descend is a glamorous dark gem of a tale, sparkling with romance, magic, and intrigue. Readers will be captivated by prima donna Kallia as the mystery is slowly unmasked. Bravissima!" - Julie C. Dao, author of Forest of a Thousand Lanterns “Lavish and opulent in a way that feels warmly familiar yet demands your attention. There are secrets upon secrets, a girl who’s boldly ambitious, and truly riveting stage magic. I didn’t want the show to stop.” - Emily A. Duncan, New York Times bestselling author of Wicked Saints "Vibrant imagery, jaw-dropping set pieces, sizzling romantic tension, and unstoppable heroine Kallia bring this ambitious debut novel to spectacular life. Fans of Caraval and The Night Circus will be delighted!" - Claire Legrand, New York Times bestselling author of Furyborn   "[A] spellbinding melody of a book, and the true magic is how Angeles puts all the best parts of an enrapturing theatrical performance onto paper and ink. From the gripping twists in the first pages all the way to the final, heartbreaking crescendo, Where Dreams Descend will surge you to your feet in a standing ovation.” – Sara Raasch, New York Times bestselling author of the Snow Like Ashes trilogy

In a city covered in ice and ruin, a group of magicians face off in a daring game of magical feats to find the next headliner of the Conquering Circus, only to find themselves under the threat of an unseen danger striking behind the scenes.

As each act becomes more and more risky and the number of missing magicians piles up, three are forced to reckon with their secrets before the darkness comes for them next.

The Star: Kallia, a powerful showgirl out to prove she’s the best no matter the cost

The Master: Jack, the enigmatic keeper of the club, and more than one lie told

The Magician: Demarco, the brooding judge with a dark past he can no longer hide

Where Dreams Descend is the startling and romantic first book in Janella Angeles’ debut Kingdom of Cards fantasy duology where magic is both celebrated and feared, and no heart is left unscathed.

Buy Link: https://read.macmillan.com/lp/where-dreams-descend/

JANELLA ANGELES is a Filipino-American author who got her start in writing through consuming glorious amounts of fanfiction at a young age—which eventually led to penning a few of her own, and later on, creating original stories from her imagination. A lifelong lover of books, she's lucky enough to be working in the business of publishing them on top of writing them. She currently resides in Massachusetts, where she's most likely to be found listening to musicals on repeat and daydreaming too much for her own good. Where Dreams Descend is her first book. 

Social Links:  Twitter: @Janella_Angeles // Instagram: @Janella_Angeles

Excerpt:

Never come to Hellfire House without wearing a mask.

It was one of the rare rules in a joint without any. The only rule the master of the club did not mind following. He blended in with the sea of suits and white masks that arrived every other night, switching appearances from crowd to crowd. A bartender one moment, a dealer at the card tables the next.

Only his face remained the same, half-masked and haunting. Like a prince who relished the bloody crown on his head, and the ghosts that came with it. A face almost hardened by beauty, though glints of youth ran deep beneath soft black eyes. It always shocked new guests, to see him. The master of the House was rumored to be a dragon of a man. A monster. A magician who had no mercy for fools.

Only those who dared slur the word boy in his face understood how true those rumors were.

To the rest, he played the devil on all shoulders, leading patrons to his bar and game tables, guiding them toward his enchanted smoke lounge to drown in curated memories. The warmth of first love, the heady rush of triumph, the immense joy of dreams come true. The master kept a selection of sensations, and one hit of the pipes delivered magic the people came crawling to his house to taste.

They had no idea the show that was in store for them.

The master of the House sipped his short glass of scarlet whiskey in peace, tapping along the wide black strip over his brass knuckles. He’d long since manipulated his attire, sitting casually at a card table and savoring the mayhem. Raucous cheers erupted from the next table as dice rolled out across the surface. Smiling Hellfire girls in black blazers and masks of lace denied patrons begging for a dance. Loudest of all, the dealer’s crisp shuffling of the black cards with teeth-white numbers before she doled out hands to players at the table.

“No, no more,” one moaned. “I can’t.”

“Sure you can, chap.” A young man in a white thorn-edged mask cheerfully pressed him back in his seat. “We can’t leave. Haven’t even finished your drink, yet.”

His drunken friend’s mouth puckered under another gulp. “Think it’s true, the drink? Magician’s Blood, the menu said.”

“Think you have power, now?” Thorn Mask laughed, leaning back to appraise the club. “Here, you take your magic where you can get it. You wear a mask. You flip a card, smoke a memory. Or you look up . . . at her.”

The master’s fingers tightened around his glass, just as the lights dimmed. Dancers cleared the floor under the hush of music, shifting from smooth, steady beats to a racing rhythm loud as thunderous applause.

Right on cue.

The band’s worth of instruments he’d charmed for the night started up a wild entry tune of drums, the thick trill of trumpets. Chatter ceased and backs straightened as a beam of light speared toward the ceiling. A panel slid open over the dance floor.

And the chandelier descended.

Strings of crystals dangled along tiered rims of rose gold, cutting sharply into a jewel-set swing where a masked showgirl sat. A throne of glittering jewels, casting luminous lace across the walls and the ground and the audience taking her in. Her brown skin glowed against her corset, red as her gem-studded mask. Arms stretched out, she crossed and extended her legs in smooth lines all the way down, until her heels touched the lacquered black dancefloor. With the hint of a smile, she rose from her throne and stalked forward, thrusting a hand up with a snap.

Darkness engulfed the room.

Hoots and hollers rang at the drop of the beat, before a glimmer of her form reappeared in the shadows. The room pulsed at her command, matching the spike of heartbeats the master sensed throughout the club.

The smirk on his lips matched the girl’s as she arched her back to the raw stretch of the melody. She thrived under the attention, like a wildflower under the sun. A star finding the night.

His star.

“I’ll be damned.” The drunk at the card table breathed in awe, as the girl’s palms began brightening with a molten glow. “Nothing like an academy girl.”

“Worth the trip, right?” His friend clapped a hand on his shoulder.

“I didn’t know they could be magicians like . . . this.”

The master smothered a dark scoff under a sip of whiskey. The girl showed off good tricks—improvised and bettered from his basic crowd-pleasers. Treating the ceiling like a sky and showering comets from it, casting an elaborate shadow show of dancing shades over the floor, shifting every candlelight in the room to different colors to the beat of the music.

But always the performer, she preferred to be front and center. Teasing her power just enough to make the audience want more of her magic, more of her.

He wet his lips as flames shot from her hands, arcing over her head and around her body. The fire’s melody bent to her every movement, and she gave everything to it. If she wasn’t careful, she’d overexert herself like she did most nights, never knowing when to stop. How to pull back.

Careful never was her strongest suit.

Sparks fell before her, sizzling on the ground. Unafraid, she sauntered down her stage of flames with slow swaying hips and a firelit smile.

“Magicians like this are best kept a secret,” Thorn Mask went on. “And besides, the work is far too scandalous for a lady. Only clubs will take them.”

“What a shame. Imagine going up against the likes of her at the competition.”

The master paused, drawing his gaze back to his glass.

“Not this again. That flyer was nothing but a joke.” Thorn Mask slapped the table with a groaning laugh. “A prank.”

The drunk sloppily patted around his coat, pulling from his breast pocket a dirty, scrunched ball of paper. “It’s real. They’re all over the academies, in Deque and New Crown and—”

“A prank,” repeated Thorn Mask, unfolding the flyer anyway. “It has to be. No one’s been to that city in ages, it would never open itself to such games.”

“That makes it all the more interesting, don’t you think?” As another roar of cheers erupted around them, the friend sipped his drink smugly. “Imagine if she entered, the city might implode.”

“Right. As if that would ever happen.” Thorn Mask leered. “Competition would eat a creature like her alive.”

“Because she’s . . . ?”

With an impish lift of his brow, the man in the thorny mask flicked the flyer off the table and returned to his forgotten spread of cards. “Let’s get on with the game, shall we?”

Before he could gesture at the dealer, the master suddenly appeared at their table, snatching the young man’s wrist in a biting grip. The man yelped as the force knocked over his drink, and sent a stream of hidden cards spilling out from his sleeves.

“What’s this?” The master bent toward the ground and picked up a couple, entirely too calm. “Cheating in my house?”

The man froze, recognition dawning at the brass knuckles alone. “Where did you—I-I mean,” he sputtered, patting frantically at his sleeve. “That’s impossible. Those aren’t mine, I swear.”

“Then where did they come from?”

Sweat dripped from his temple, his face paler than the white of his mask. “I emptied my pockets at the door. Honest.”

Honest. That was the best he could do? The master almost laughed.

“You want to know the price cheaters pay in my joint?” His question offered no mercy. Only deliverance, served on ice. “Memories.”

“No, please!” The man’s lip trembled. “I didn’t, I-I’ll do whatever you want!”

“This is what I want.” The master rose from the table with the jerk of his wrist. The cheat flew to the ground in a gasp as he gripped at the invisible chain-like weight around his neck. Sharp, staccato breaths followed the master as he dragged his prisoner toward the smoke dens.

The man screamed, but no one heard him. No one saw, no one cared. All eyes fell on the star of the show as she searched for a dance partner to join her. The drunken friend, noticing nothing amiss, raised his half-full glass of Magician’s Blood to his lips before waving his hand high like the others. The man thrashed harder, only to feel his cries smothered and deeper in his throat. His form, invisible at the sweep of the master’s hand.

With a disdainful glance, the master chuckled. “You’re only making this more difficult for yourself. One memory won’t kill you.”

At once, he paused. The lights blinked around them, the air grown still. Dim and hazy, as though locked in a dream.

He thought nothing of it until he caught the movements of the patrons—their arms raised and waving slowly, increment by increment. Their cheers dulled and stretched into low, gravelly roars, as if the sound were wading through heavier air. Against time itself.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

The sound of her voice slithered around him, stopping the master in his tracks. The man quieted. Sweat soaked his pale face, his chest heaving. The showgirl stood in their path, every stare in the room still locked on the spotlit floor where she’d been. As though she’d never left.

Impressive.

Her red corset glinted as she cocked her hip and pointed at the man on the floor. “I choose him.”

She could never let things be easy.

“Kallia,” he growled, warning.

She smiled. “Jack.”

“Pick another. He’s a cheater.”

Her lips pursed into a dubious line. “Then let me teach him a lesson. He’ll no doubt prefer it more.” She swung a leg over the man’s prone form so she stood directly above him. Invitation dripped from the crook of her fingers. “The music calls, darling. Let’s have ourselves a grand time.”

The man’s terror turned swiftly into awe, and he looked at her as if ready to kiss the ground she walked on. As soon as he took her beckoning hand, the room resumed its lively rhythm—a song snapped back in full swing. The cheers and hollers returned to their normal speed, exploding in delight as patrons found their lovely entertainer in their midst, her chosen dance partner in tow.

She bypassed the master, pressing a casual hand on his chest to move him. It lingered, he noticed. Unafraid, unlike most. Their gazes locked for a moment, their masked faces inches apart.

No one ever dared to get this close. To him, to her.

Only each other.

At the next round of cheers and whistles, she pushed him away, smug as a cat. Tugging the man close behind her, she sent fires onto the ground that illuminated her path and warded others from trying to follow them to the stage. Never once looking back at the master, even as he watched on after her.

His fist tightened, full of the cards from his earlier trick. They disappeared into mist, having served their purpose. Along with the flyer he managed to grab.

He didn’t even bother giving it a read. It died in the fire caged by his palm. Tendrils of smoke rose between his brass knuckles, and when he opened his fingers, nothing but ash fell to the ground.

[andrasteshaircurlers]

Alright to be fair this post should be titled: Let’s talk Lyrium, and world order, and how magic types relate to each other, and a lot of other shit because Tansy just finished Trespasser and is kind of freaking out. but that did not make as good a title.

See?

(As you can also tell I started this lore post a LONG time ago)

Basically the DLC was just one validation after another of some of the ideas I had lore wise that were so out there that I just sort of went NAH and didn’t really share them. It also validated lots I have spoken of but that’s beside the point.

There was literally so much to cover that I kept debating about how to mix it up for a while before finally deciding to just sort of dump it all in one place.

I ended up going with the Lyrium title because this has validated TWO crazy theories I had!

So basically I promise you there will be lyrium

There will just be a lot of other stuff too. Please keep reading. Unless of course you are a templar experiencing withdrawal in which case I advise you to… I don’t even know. Sorry buddy you’re screwed.

CRASH COURSE ON THEDAS WORLD ORDER!

Fade - Fade magic - spirits - sky/outerspace

Thedas - blood magic - us - Thedas

Void - Void Magic - dead people - Water

LYRIUM! LYRIUM EVERYWHERE!

I um... Might need to explain a bit more. Lemme just copy and paste from another of my posts

First let's look at magic. Blood/fade/void

We know how magic works for blood and fade “ A mage uses magic by tapping into the power of the Fade to essentially question reality, rendering it mutable and able to be reshaped. To this end, templars are the ideal foils for mages, having been trained specifically to counter and “deny” magic

http://higheverrains.tumblr.com/post/132465307323/circle-charts this post got me thinking

ok so basically Blood magic uses the power of real life of reality to shape spells Fade magic uses the fades power with it being a place of unfixed existence.

You got that? Thedas is reality, Fade is unfixed reality

The void as we see in the void magic performed in the Calling draws its power from lack of reality. It works by literally dissolving reality out of existence instead of changing it as fade magic does or creating it as blood magic seems to.

Side note: this is why blood magic can be so unexpected as in Last Flight. You are creating reality not changing it as Fade magic does.

Still with me here? Good,

According to the prima game guide  “ Spirits whose realms are flocked with visitors rise to rule great portions of the Fade, while memories and concepts forgotten in the real world slowly drift away back into the ether, the spirits who ruled them losing all potency”

This ether is also known as the abyss or void. It's the raw waters of the fade. It is nothing but nothing is powerful because nothing is just energy that has not been shaped yet.

This is the fade in its natural state. Before people touch it with their perceptions

Its also a storage place for the souls of the dead before they return

The void is the land of the dead. (as stated by so many cultures in thedas) Thedas is the land of the living. And the fade is the land of those who can neither live nor die.

Now then.

Titans figured out how to have dwarves not enter the fade. But instead be drawn to them and their wellspring to from their own private pool of knowledge.  These were the original memories. The accumulated knowledge of generations at the finger tips of new dwarves.

Sound like anything? The well of Sorrows. The elves took lyrium and “something else” That something else was souls.

This is how imortality works. Circumventing the void. Or rather making sure your full being is brought out into a new body.

Of course this does not explain my last little bit about space and stuff... So I Should started talking about that. 

It started with a crazy thought There are three realms of existence, three types of magic. 

But two big powerful animals? Titans and Great Dragons? Both of whom have blood with crazy special properties?

I don’t believe there is only two. I think one has not yet been revealed to us (Unless of course it’s the Cetus in which case we just don’t know shit)

Dear Bioware, please let it be this thing. Please let our heroes have to go out on boats to meet with it with only harpoons and fishhooks for defence, all like “Haha, we’re so screwed.”

 But basically It got me thinking, If Dragons ruled the skies, and Titans do their shaping thing in the stone what is left? 

BINGO! The Seas!

But that is crazy right and where did outerspace come from?

Well let me show you somthing

Heh-heh nice little rifty, please don’t swallow m-

No! What are we doing!?

OH MY G-D!!!

Gonna look back.... What the?

HOOOOBOY!

Welcome to the other side of the rift.

But wait there is more!

Nice Crossroads Green Forcefield thing.

Hmmm So this is the lowest point.... I wonder if I just

Is that what I think it is?

Thats right under the crossroads is an entire freaking forest.

Oh broken paths?

You mean like this?

A lot of people get frustrated about the geography of thedas and how it makes the sence. The thing is... It does. If you link the physical and the magical

But back to the concept of the seas.

Remember this in the fade?

Yeah I don’t think it was crestwood. Mostly because there is black water in the raw fade in DAO 

Wanna know what else was in the fade?

Which is interesting because in the past lyrium in the fade was blue

Why the change?

Well... It could be because we entered the fade physically 

Or it might have somthing to do with the part of the void we entered being connected to the void. I don’t think those fossils where an accident. Connecting water and death in a thing. As is connecting death and the void as I mentioned above.

We know the titan’s blood is lyrium 

We know it has a heart

New age crystal lovers eat your heart out!!!! Yes I am a crystal lover...

So let's ask the question. What do hearts and blood DO?

If our blood and hearts carry things like oxygen and the other nutrients we need... We have to ask what TITAN hearts and blood carry.

My theory since before trespasser has been that the awnser to this is souls. Lyrium transports souls through the void the fade and thedas.

Moving on.

Here lies the abyss, the well of all souls. From these emerald waters doth life begin anew. Come to me, child, and I shall embrace you. In my arms lies Eternity.

In the book “The Calling” Merric speaks this verse while very likely in a titan.

What if this wellspring is a holder for souls. So that when Sha-Brytol die they can be brought back. A “secret to immortality”

What does this idea remind you of? Well it reminded me of The Well Of Sorrows.  

But that’s crazy right... WELLLLLL....

This is the “pure” Lyrium we see in Decent 

The Lyrium we see in trespasser however is different looking The following are two pictures of it taken at the same angle just moments apart.

Notice the shiny. It’s almost like the Lyrium has been charged somehow.  But charged how... FLYCAM TIME

Oh look at this... You know what it reminds me off?

Welcome to Uthenera

Close up more

Oh look Lyrium columns leading to...

The dark waters of the fade.  Shall we call this the void?

Diving boards are important for void sacrifices guys.

I’m about to propose somthing crazy guys.

What if Red Lyrium is not always evil?

Besides the fact that a Qunari inquisitor seems not to find Red Lyrium a bother in trespasser we have this.

Does this mean that Red Lyrium was once not blighted? or that the blight was once not bad? That there is some red Lyrium that is not bad?

The Elves in origins seem to suggest so.

This Camp should be doomed

But we have seen more than just blue and red lyrium

We’ve seen green Lyrium. FYI The Hissing Wastes is home to many Oddities

I know some suspect this might be a trick of the light But this does not look like a trick of the light to me.

Furthermore the Qunari in Trespasser seem to agree with me considering this is found in their little clubhouse.

SO if red lyrium is blighted lyrium.... Or rather void like Lyrium.... what is green lyrium..? 

The awnser came to me seeing the Fade Touched Lurker

found in Jaws of Hakkon.

Green Lyrium is fade touched lyrium... 

Which means that it is either like Veil Quartz... OR....

We have a possessed Titan somewhere!

Personally I bank on the Possessed Titan for two simple reasons.

First of all we find no green Lyrium in the Frostback Basin where both our fade touched friend above and veil quartz are...

ALSO

While we know that dwarves like using Lyrium in interior decorating...

We also see what could be other colors of lyrium in their decor...

From green...

To red and even yellow....

That this might be lyrium is given further credence by the fact that a Lyrium sales dwarf in Orzammar seems to be selling these decorations...

And that wraps up this lore post!

Thank you to @aqunaristateofbind for the Morrigan well graphic!

[taylorfennersbookishworld]

Hey Bookdragons! Today I'm part of Wednesday Books's Where Dreams Descend Blog Tour. Where Dreams Descend was one of my most anticipated releases of 2020 but more on that later. First, a little bit about the book...In a city covered in ice and ruin, a group of magicians face off in a daring game of magical feats to find the next headliner of the Conquering Circus, only to find themselves under the threat of an unseen danger striking behind the scenes. As each act becomes more and more risky and the number of missing magicians piles up, three are forced to reckon with their secrets before the darkness comes for them next. The Star: Kallia, a powerful showgirl out to prove she’s the best no matter the cost The Master: Jack, the enigmatic keeper of the club, and more than one lie told The Magician: Demarco, the brooding judge with a dark past he can no longer hide Where Dreams Descend is the startling and romantic first book in Janella Angeles’ debut Kingdom of Cards fantasy duology where magic is both celebrated and feared, and no heart is left unscathed.Buy Your CopyEarly Praise"Janella Angeles steals the 2020 show with her fiercely imagined debut starring larger than life characters, a dangerous world alive with magic, and a dizzying dose of grab-a-fainting-couch-and-swoon-away romance!" - Roshani Chokshi, New York Times bestselling author of The Gilded Wolves "Where Dreams Descend is a glamorous dark gem of a tale, sparkling with romance, magic, and intrigue. Readers will be captivated by prima donna Kallia as the mystery is slowly unmasked. Bravissima!" - Julie C. Dao, author of Forest of a Thousand Lanterns “Lavish and opulent in a way that feels warmly familiar yet demands your attention. There are secrets upon secrets, a girl who’s boldly ambitious, and truly riveting stage magic. I didn’t want the show to stop.” - Emily A. Duncan, New York Times bestselling author of Wicked Saints "Vibrant imagery, jaw-dropping set pieces, sizzling romantic tension, and unstoppable heroine Kallia bring this ambitious debut novel to spectacular life. Fans of Caraval and The Night Circus will be delighted!" - Claire Legrand, New York Times bestselling author of Furyborn  "[A] spellbinding melody of a book, and the true magic is how Angeles puts all the best parts of an enrapturing theatrical performance onto paper and ink. From the gripping twists in the first pages all the way to the final, heartbreaking crescendo, Where Dreams Descend will surge you to your feet in a standing ovation.” – Sara Raasch, New York Times bestselling author of the Snow Like Ashes trilogyEXCERPT:Never come to Hellfire House without wearing a mask. It was one of the rare rules in a joint without any. The only rule the master of the club did not mind following. He blended in with the sea of suits and white masks that arrived every other night, switching appearances from crowd to crowd. A bartender one moment, a dealer at the card tables the next. Only his face remained the same, half-masked and haunting. Like a prince who relished the bloody crown on his head, and the ghosts that came with it. A face almost hardened by beauty, though glints of youth ran deep beneath soft black eyes. It always shocked new guests, to see him. The master of the House was rumored to be a dragon of a man. A monster. A magician who had no mercy for fools. Only those who dared slur the word boy in his face understood how true those rumors were. To the rest, he played the devil on all shoulders, leading patrons to his bar and game tables, guiding them toward his enchanted smoke lounge to drown in curated memories. The warmth of first love, the heady rush of triumph, the immense joy of dreams come true. The master kept a selection of sensations, and one hit of the pipes delivered magic the people came crawling to his house to taste. They had no idea the show that was in store for them. The master of the House sipped his short glass of scarlet whiskey in peace, tapping along the wide black strip over his brass knuckles. He’d long since manipulated his attire, sitting casually at a card table and savoring the mayhem. Raucous cheers erupted from the next table as dice rolled out across the surface. Smiling Hellfire girls in black blazers and masks of lace denied patrons begging for a dance. Loudest of all, the dealer’s crisp shuffling of the black cards with teeth-white numbers before she doled out hands to players at the table. “No, no more,” one moaned. “I can’t.” “Sure you can, chap.” A young man in a white thorn-edged mask cheerfully pressed him back in his seat. “We can’t leave. Haven’t even finished your drink, yet.” His drunken friend’s mouth puckered under another gulp. “Think it’s true, the drink? Magician’s Blood, the menu said.” “Think you have power, now?” Thorn Mask laughed, leaning back to appraise the club. “Here, you take your magic where you can get it. You wear a mask. You flip a card, smoke a memory. Or you look up . . . at her.” The master’s fingers tightened around his glass, just as the lights dimmed. Dancers cleared the floor under the hush of music, shifting from smooth, steady beats to a racing rhythm loud as thunderous applause. Right on cue. The band’s worth of instruments he’d charmed for the night started up a wild entry tune of drums, the thick trill of trumpets. Chatter ceased and backs straightened as a beam of light speared toward the ceiling. A panel slid open over the dance floor. And the chandelier descended. Strings of crystals dangled along tiered rims of rose gold, cutting sharply into a jewel-set swing where a masked showgirl sat. A throne of glittering jewels, casting luminous lace across the walls and the ground and the audience taking her in. Her brown skin glowed against her corset, red as her gem-studded mask. Arms stretched out, she crossed and extended her legs in smooth lines all the way down, until her heels touched the lacquered black dancefloor. With the hint of a smile, she rose from her throne and stalked forward, thrusting a hand up with a snap. Darkness engulfed the room. Hoots and hollers rang at the drop of the beat, before a glimmer of her form reappeared in the shadows. The room pulsed at her command, matching the spike of heartbeats the master sensed throughout the club. The smirk on his lips matched the girl’s as she arched her back to the raw stretch of the melody. She thrived under the attention, like a wildflower under the sun. A star finding the night. His star. “I’ll be damned.” The drunk at the card table breathed in awe, as the girl’s palms began brightening with a molten glow. “Nothing like an academy girl.” “Worth the trip, right?” His friend clapped a hand on his shoulder. “I didn’t know they could be magicians like . . . this.” The master smothered a dark scoff under a sip of whiskey. The girl showed off good tricks—improvised and bettered from his basic crowd-pleasers. Treating the ceiling like a sky and showering comets from it, casting an elaborate shadow show of dancing shades over the floor, shifting every candlelight in the room to different colors to the beat of the music. But always the performer, she preferred to be front and center. Teasing her power just enough to make the audience want more of her magic, more of her. He wet his lips as flames shot from her hands, arcing over her head and around her body. The fire’s melody bent to her every movement, and she gave everything to it. If she wasn’t careful, she’d overexert herself like she did most nights, never knowing when to stop. How to pull back. Careful never was her strongest suit. Sparks fell before her, sizzling on the ground. Unafraid, she sauntered down her stage of flames with slow swaying hips and a firelit smile. “Magicians like this are best kept a secret,” Thorn Mask went on. “And besides, the work is far too scandalous for a lady. Only clubs will take them.” “What a shame. Imagine going up against the likes of her at the competition.” The master paused, drawing his gaze back to his glass. “Not this again. That flyer was nothing but a joke.” Thorn Mask slapped the table with a groaning laugh. “A prank.” The drunk sloppily patted around his coat, pulling from his breast pocket a dirty, scrunched ball of paper. “It’s real. They’re all over the academies, in Deque and New Crown and—” “A prank,” repeated Thorn Mask, unfolding the flyer anyway. “It has to be. No one’s been to that city in ages, it would never open itself to such games.” “That makes it all the more interesting, don’t you think?” As another roar of cheers erupted around them, the friend sipped his drink smugly. “Imagine if she entered, the city might implode.” “Right. As if that would ever happen.” Thorn Mask leered. “Competition would eat a creature like her alive.” “Because she’s . . . ?” With an impish lift of his brow, the man in the thorny mask flicked the flyer off the table and returned to his forgotten spread of cards. “Let’s get on with the game, shall we?” Before he could gesture at the dealer, the master suddenly appeared at their table, snatching the young man’s wrist in a biting grip. The man yelped as the force knocked over his drink, and sent a stream of hidden cards spilling out from his sleeves. “What’s this?” The master bent toward the ground and picked up a couple, entirely too calm. “Cheating in my house?” The man froze, recognition dawning at the brass knuckles alone. “Where did you—I-I mean,” he sputtered, patting frantically at his sleeve. “That’s impossible. Those aren’t mine, I swear.” “Then where did they come from?” Sweat dripped from his temple, his face paler than the white of his mask. “I emptied my pockets at the door. Honest.” Honest. That was the best he could do? The master almost laughed. “You want to know the price cheaters pay in my joint?” His question offered no mercy. Only deliverance, served on ice. “Memories.” “No, please!” The man’s lip trembled. “I didn’t, I-I’ll do whatever you want!” “This is what I want.” The master rose from the table with the jerk of his wrist. The cheat flew to the ground in a gasp as he gripped at the invisible chain-like weight around his neck. Sharp, staccato breaths followed the master as he dragged his prisoner toward the smoke dens. The man screamed, but no one heard him. No one saw, no one cared. All eyes fell on the star of the show as she searched for a dance partner to join her. The drunken friend, noticing nothing amiss, raised his half-full glass of Magician’s Blood to his lips before waving his hand high like the others. The man thrashed harder, only to feel his cries smothered and deeper in his throat. His form, invisible at the sweep of the master’s hand. With a disdainful glance, the master chuckled. “You’re only making this more difficult for yourself. One memory won’t kill you.” At once, he paused. The lights blinked around them, the air grown still. Dim and hazy, as though locked in a dream. He thought nothing of it until he caught the movements of the patrons—their arms raised and waving slowly, increment by increment. Their cheers dulled and stretched into low, gravelly roars, as if the sound were wading through heavier air. Against time itself. “Where do you think you’re going?” The sound of her voice slithered around him, stopping the master in his tracks. The man quieted. Sweat soaked his pale face, his chest heaving. The showgirl stood in their path, every stare in the room still locked on the spotlit floor where she’d been. As though she’d never left. Impressive. Her red corset glinted as she cocked her hip and pointed at the man on the floor. “I choose him.” She could never let things be easy. “Kallia,” he growled, warning. She smiled. “Jack.” “Pick another. He’s a cheater.” Her lips pursed into a dubious line. “Then let me teach him a lesson. He’ll no doubt prefer it more.” She swung a leg over the man’s prone form so she stood directly above him. Invitation dripped from the crook of her fingers. “The music calls, darling. Let’s have ourselves a grand time.” The man’s terror turned swiftly into awe, and he looked at her as if ready to kiss the ground she walked on. As soon as he took her beckoning hand, the room resumed its lively rhythm—a song snapped back in full swing. The cheers and hollers returned to their normal speed, exploding in delight as patrons found their lovely entertainer in their midst, her chosen dance partner in tow. She bypassed the master, pressing a casual hand on his chest to move him. It lingered, he noticed. Unafraid, unlike most. Their gazes locked for a moment, their masked faces inches apart. No one ever dared to get this close. To him, to her. Only each other. At the next round of cheers and whistles, she pushed him away, smug as a cat. Tugging the man close behind her, she sent fires onto the ground that illuminated her path and warded others from trying to follow them to the stage. Never once looking back at the master, even as he watched on after her. His fist tightened, full of the cards from his earlier trick. They disappeared into mist, having served their purpose. Along with the flyer he managed to grab. He didn’t even bother giving it a read. It died in the fire caged by his palm. Tendrils of smoke rose between his brass knuckles, and when he opened his fingers, nothing but ash fell to the ground.My Review:The thing I liked most about this book was the world-building. The atmosphere of Hellfire House intrigues the reader right away, unfolding in the mind and tempting you to explore further.That being said, this book dragged for me. I actually tried three times to get into it unsuccessfully over a period of months that I've had this book sitting on my shelf. As I mentioned above, this was one of my most anticipated releases of 2020 and the intro to the book did grab me but after that? I just couldn't keep my attention on the page. So I did what any frustrated reader would do - I read ahead. And it does pick up. At the end. It's like all the exciting stuff is jammed in at the last 1/3 of the book. When the description of this book was put on Goodreads calling it "Moulin Rouge meets Phantom of the Opera and The Night Circus" I was so ready for this book. But I didn't get that at all reading it other than maybe Kallia was supposed to be like Nicole Kidman's character in Moulin Rouge? I don't know, maybe I didn't give this book enough of a chance --- but I mean, three attempts? --- and maybe someone will enjoy it more than I did. I honestly think I've been reading too much fantasy and it could be burnout. Overall, it was okay in spots but not enough to encourage me to pick up the next book.My Rating:🌟🌟2 of 5 stars!About the Author:JANELLA ANGELES is a Filipino-American author who got her start in writing through consuming glorious amounts of fanfiction at a young age—which eventually led to penning a few of her own, and later on, creating original stories from her imagination. A lifelong lover of books, she's lucky enough to be working in the business of publishing them on top of writing them. She currently resides in Massachusetts, where she's most likely to be found listening to musicals on repeat and daydreaming too much for her own good. Where Dreams Descend is her first book.Twitter | Instagram

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