As I am currently working on a fantasy novel, I wanted to perhaps make a broadside that is related to the content of the book.
I have several ideas relating to The Wrath King. The first would be to create a fictional political poster for the civil war that happens several years before the events of The Wrath King. It’d be for the rebellion and promote the political figure, The Wrath King and his soldiers. Second, I was thinking about doing something related to the plot of the book itself. Either doing something political with the events, since there are several massacres throughout the book and maybe even something relating to propaganda against particular practitioners of blood magic. The third idea would be using one of the main characters and creating a poem around them and aesthetically linking the imagery to the imagery that describes them. (More on this idea below…)
The Wrath King deals with heavy topics such as war, religious fanaticism, court politics, myth, and revenge. It also features ideas about memory, body image, scars, and trauma. so, since the text has a grittier, darker message, theme, and plotline, the Broadside should reflect that.
Aesthetically, no matter which idea I go for I’d like the broadside to be made of heavy, saturated, jewel-toned colors. But also, have a limited color palette. Rich, deep blacks, stark snowy whites, brilliant rubies, and brutal crimsons. With imagery that is aesthetically akin and atmospherically like the moodboard pictured below~
I believe when it comes to the type of font I’d want, it would have to be a serif font (mostly because I have a personal vendetta against the font Arial). I believe it should be a bold, either all capitals or all lowercase letters, and not cursive.
“Hold on,” Ainle commanded, feeling the familiar ache and burn of blood magic course through his veins. There was always a price, one that took and took in exchange for something that held the ultimate price. “Take me,”
protector, soldier, brother. Searcher of the Necromancer and hunter of the Tyrant. like his fellow brothers of the Crimson Legion, is finding it difficult to return to a ruined and broken land. Winning the war is not the end, as he previously believed. Instead, he is thrown headfirst into politics, a war of words not swords. Weaponless in the game that surrounds the throne and priests, the Wrath King sends a restless Ainle to a mission into the great East beyond.
LADY NOLA SWANN
Nola scoffed, kicking a loose rock in anger. Raktos’s light, her ass. Just religious talk for a stake being covered in oil and struck with a match. She didn’t know what she would do if her sister was burned at the stake. Would Nola be too for helping her? Calder? The rest of her family? The entire North?
sister. the north’s hope. The Brightfang’s daughter. Keeper of Keserin’s Secrets. hates court life. With her sister being the future Queen of Izaro, Nola must behave and bite her tongue in order to keep them in favor of the Wrath King. But when dark assassins creep in through the walls at night, dripping off the ceiling like oil. And she must protect her sister from the devils that creep around the corner, even if that means being less ladylike. To be honest, she’s okay with that.
Resli was lost in the pain and blood, swimming deep within the in between world of blinding sunlight cast off the carver’s dagger and the dark recesses of pain. She couldn’t remember her name or her city or even her god. Where were they? Shouldn’t they have protected them?
survivor. the scarred flower. the vengeful ghost. Deliverer of the Silverflame. is the sole survivor of a horrific attack on her and her fellow Scarlet Sisters. As a fledgling Priestess in the center of the Capital, she has much to learn about the games the House of Red plays. But hellbent on finding the hooded figures who massacred a part of her family, Priestess Resli goes searching for the ones who linger in the dark, the only ones who might be able to help her. Even if it means traveling far from her home into a land that is despised by any good Izarorian citizen and faithful servant to the House of Red, the former stronghold of the House of Silver.
And as the song rose, lifting out of his mouth and into the air, the sharp smell of metallic blood mixed with it, giving it a life, a breath, a beat. It seemed to swirl, a tether to his very soul. His piece of himself to give back as he took what was not his. His hands moved without thinking, carving, the blood dripping down into the pool and staining it dark. But the victim never moved, never flinched, just bobbed in the water with lashes fluttering.
the son of the silver sword. Swordhunter. memory weaver. silver wastes madman. hides in the shadows, awaiting his chance to enact revenge on the cult that murdered his mother. However, in order to get close to the man who gave the orders, he must be indoctrinated into one of the four learned Houses as an apprentice and become a true part of the sect he hates. As he ventures deeper into the dark world of blood magic and the ancient secrets of sorcerers and Magi, Lucien finds the entanglement stickier than he first perceived.