More quotes from my stories. This time, the focus is on series 2.
“You are a monster Usor’an, a monster!” Magakanajaij spat as the flames around her body were sucked into her mouth, nose, and eyes. She began to convulse.
“Say what you want woman,” Usor’an cackled. “But I’m the one roasting your soul.”
“I’m making a pelt out of you,” Jacob told the hellhound as he fired his pistol at it. As soon as he pulled the trigger, the hellhound’s body turned into a goat-shaped cloud of brown fog. A small distortion of mist near the hellhound’s throat was all that happened as a result of the shot. The mist coalesced back into the hellhound. “That’s not fair!” Jacob shouted. The beast leapt forward.
“Usor’an has a new lieutenant, one who leads the angels against the Erayics in a mad genocide. His crimes are piled high”. Each word he said sounded forced, as if he had to squeeze the words up his throat and out of his mouth. "Some call him the Magistrate,” Anar choked out then went quiet and his eyes fluttered across Fenera’s face. “He’s also my son.”
The closest person in the slave pit lay four meters away from her. Fenera’s nose burned with the smell of the waste that lay down there. Her ears bled with the sounds of screams and hundreds of begging voices that reached them. Her eyes took in nothing but the collected misery of thousands of people, who had nothing to look forward to except enslavement, or more mercifully, extermination.
The machine people, the angels, swarmed over to them. A storm of snow was thrown up around them as the angels took their places in a circle around them. Fenera cringed but Mhaldin was calm. As they came to a stop, the snow settled and she could see each individual angelic face. The torchlight glinted off their eyes and illuminated their black carapace, which was like the chitin of an insect. Fenera looked back to Mhaldin. He stood with a straight back, totally calculated. Five angels surrounded him, one rearing over his head, three on his flanks, and two crouching like cats by his feet. She couldn’t even see Mhaldin’s legs through the angel’s bodies. She noticed he had stripped off his left gauntlet and his bare hand was delicately stroking the head of an angel to his left. His caress seemed almost loving.
“See? There Fenera is,” Mhaldin said reassuringly, talking to the angels. He sounded like he had been talking to a scared girl whose closet he had just opened to disprove her imagined monster. “She is my genuine sister. Look at her and memorize her. If you see her, no matter what, you are not to attack her or let her be threatened. Alright?” Fenera shuddered as the angels all squeezed in towards her. They all pushed their soulless faces up around her until she was completely enveloped by a cocoon of metal. Wherever she looked she only saw faces. She felt an angel brush against her shoulder. She flinched and pulled away from it, only to bump into a wall of faces. Fenera huddled to the snow.
Fenera was so detached from reality that she almost fell over a water-filled basin that sat in the middle of the floor. She didn’t take a second look at Lynx, who was naked and washing his clothes in the basin. She heard him say something like “I thought you’d be gone longer.”
Showing posts with label Excerpts and misc.. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Excerpts and misc.. Show all posts
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
Excerpts 6: Fall from Grace (updated)
Having revealed that Mhaldin turns evil, I have decided to provide some quick quotes to illustrate how it goes down. Some of these passages have not yet been included in the story.
"Mhaldin's been kidnapped".
'The Higharc?' Mhaldin thought in equal parts surprise and dismay. 'They did this?'
'A man named Cipit, working on behalf of the Higharc, had some involvement'. Fenera thought.
“They…tortured him” Fenera replied. “They tortured him and it’s all going on in my head. They wanted to know where we are so they…they asked Mhaldin”.
“Your master will know where Fenera is. You will tell us in time. You’ve got it easy right now but your master could have us get fiercer with you” one of them said. They left Mhaldin where he was: hanging by his legs from the ceiling of his cell.
“One day, maybe not this year and maybe not the next year, but one day I will kill you” Mhaldin stated. “On that day the Higharc and every evil thing it stands for will end. On that day you will regret making me your enemy. On that day I will see Starseran fall from the sky. I will strike it down”. Mhaldin spat at Haulk. “I will see to it that everything you love and have worked to accomplish and preserve burns to the ground!” Mhaldin was losing control; he wasn’t even rationalizing what he was saying. “By the gods, the corrupt Higharc will die, and I will make it happen! You and your filthy friends will pay for what they did to me!”
(while he is being rescued) And there he was, marred by scars and wearing blood stained clothing that had been torn. But there lay young Mhaldin: alive and sitting in front of Fenera’s eyes for the first time in a year and a day. He was still deep in peaceful unconsciousness.
“Someone mentioned his kidnapping and he sat down over there. He just stayed there for the whole meeting, not doing much”. Mhaldin heard her sigh. “I think he might be concerned. You see, I plan on making contact with the Higharc so to discuss the troubles out west. I suspect he fears making contact with the Higharc will give them an opportunity to…take him again”. Through Fenera’s eyes, Mhaldin saw his parents look at him “It is so painful to see him like this”.
“Those men helped keep me in a cage for nine months. It is my right to hate them” snapped Mhaldin.
'War kills bad men. Without war the world would be a terrible place' Mhaldin thought back as he thought about the Higharc and how the All War would destroy them.
“Yuel and his killers” Mhaldin said through his teeth. He looked at Fenera. “They just can’t leave me or my family alone. I…I’ll kill them all. All of them. I won’t take this anymore”. He stood up, fists clenched. He didn’t care how he would strike at Yuel, he didn’t give one single spot of logic to the feasibility of how he would do so. All he thought about was how much he wanted to kill every single man Yuel commanded. He took a few steps towards the exit, Rossus asked him where he was going.
“These animals put me in a collar for nine months and turned those days into a living nightmare for me. They hurt me like I did something to them” Mhaldin said. “Now I’ve gotten away from them and they’re still following me. They’re attacking Fenera now. I’m going out to slaughter them all. I’ve sat back and done nothing, now they’ll all pay with their lives!”
'You’re not a killer…'Fenera thought.
'Not yet' Mhaldin thought.
Mhaldin charged out of the shadows and jumped on the back of the banjo player forcing him to the ground. The man was dead before he fell: the sword of Rarend through his heart. The others were so off guard that they were still smiling at the song and music when Mhaldin began to kill them. For Mhaldin, it was a simple matter of pointing the pressure cannon at random people and pulling the trigger.
“No, YOU murdered all those people in New Caesarus!” Mhaldin yelled. “I saw the ashes! You and all your genocidal followers aren’t worth the food you eat! You are a sickness on the two planets. I didn’t murder anyone, I CURED them!”
"I loved you with my soul, I took care of you. I raised you" she said softly to Mhaldin. "When you were kidnapped, my life became a living nightmare. But we got you back". Her voice grew hard and sharp like water that was freezing, and equally as cold. "Now you...murder, kidnap. These are things that no child of mine knows how to do. You are not my son. Go with Usor'an, do whatever, I don't care what happens to you anymore".
"We can be friends" Usor'an offered as he sat down next to Mhaldin.
"Yuel is dead, but I want more" Mhaldin said to Usor'an. "Its time I took up my quarrel with the Higharc".
(much, much later...)
“On behalf of the Higharc, the people of Starseran, Jindaria and Eray, I welcome you,” the emissary said as he approached Mhaldin to shake hands. Mhaldin raised his hand, but not to shake hands. The emissary’s head fell to the floor: a blade that had unfolded from Mhaldin’s palm sat in his hand and blood sat on its edge.
No sooner had Mhadin murdered the emissary when the other scorighters attacked. Gunshots rang out and both drem guards were killed before they could bring their weapons to bear on their young adversary. The whole thing took less than five seconds.
The crowd stood and gazed in disbelief at what they had just seen. They just could not comprehend what they had seen. It was too unreal for them. Mhaldin looked up at the astonished faces, his young face beaten into a hateful glare. He swept his sword down towards the crowd as the scorighters unfolded guns from their hands.
“Kill them!” he screeched.
“I am sorry magistrate. I can only imagine how you feel,” Aironel raised his eyes to Mhaldin’s. “But if you kill us you’ll perpetuate the war”. Mhaldin didn’t react. “You’ll perpetuate the war, the one Eray wanted to start so desperately”. No reaction. “You can’t take vengeance, many people will die”.
“Isn’t that exactly what the Higharc wanted?” Mhaldin asked, his wings flapped a bit. Aironel pressed his hands together as though praying.
“Don’t you want this war to end? Do you think that killing all of us will help anything?” Aironel begged, his calm demeanor began to melt away.
“You are a sickness on Eray. I need to cure this world of you”.
“You’re making a mistake,” Aironel cried. “This is a peace talk you maniac!” Mhaldin stabbed Aironel in the stomach and leaned down. He pressed the flames from his two “wing” tendrils against the drem’s face. The smell of charred scales stung his nose. Mhaldin threw down the smoldering carcass and gestured to the angels. They machines descended down onto the Erayics, blades unfolded from their front limbs. Mhaldin joined them, and was lost in a tempest of screaming and blood. He hacked and killed, no mercy to anyone. None of his victims could fight back, none of his victims could get away. He killed the unarmed drem with the angels. At last he had his revenge.
It was over far too fast.
"Mhaldin's been kidnapped".
'The Higharc?' Mhaldin thought in equal parts surprise and dismay. 'They did this?'
'A man named Cipit, working on behalf of the Higharc, had some involvement'. Fenera thought.
“They…tortured him” Fenera replied. “They tortured him and it’s all going on in my head. They wanted to know where we are so they…they asked Mhaldin”.
“Your master will know where Fenera is. You will tell us in time. You’ve got it easy right now but your master could have us get fiercer with you” one of them said. They left Mhaldin where he was: hanging by his legs from the ceiling of his cell.
“One day, maybe not this year and maybe not the next year, but one day I will kill you” Mhaldin stated. “On that day the Higharc and every evil thing it stands for will end. On that day you will regret making me your enemy. On that day I will see Starseran fall from the sky. I will strike it down”. Mhaldin spat at Haulk. “I will see to it that everything you love and have worked to accomplish and preserve burns to the ground!” Mhaldin was losing control; he wasn’t even rationalizing what he was saying. “By the gods, the corrupt Higharc will die, and I will make it happen! You and your filthy friends will pay for what they did to me!”
(while he is being rescued) And there he was, marred by scars and wearing blood stained clothing that had been torn. But there lay young Mhaldin: alive and sitting in front of Fenera’s eyes for the first time in a year and a day. He was still deep in peaceful unconsciousness.
“Someone mentioned his kidnapping and he sat down over there. He just stayed there for the whole meeting, not doing much”. Mhaldin heard her sigh. “I think he might be concerned. You see, I plan on making contact with the Higharc so to discuss the troubles out west. I suspect he fears making contact with the Higharc will give them an opportunity to…take him again”. Through Fenera’s eyes, Mhaldin saw his parents look at him “It is so painful to see him like this”.
“Those men helped keep me in a cage for nine months. It is my right to hate them” snapped Mhaldin.
'War kills bad men. Without war the world would be a terrible place' Mhaldin thought back as he thought about the Higharc and how the All War would destroy them.
“Yuel and his killers” Mhaldin said through his teeth. He looked at Fenera. “They just can’t leave me or my family alone. I…I’ll kill them all. All of them. I won’t take this anymore”. He stood up, fists clenched. He didn’t care how he would strike at Yuel, he didn’t give one single spot of logic to the feasibility of how he would do so. All he thought about was how much he wanted to kill every single man Yuel commanded. He took a few steps towards the exit, Rossus asked him where he was going.
“These animals put me in a collar for nine months and turned those days into a living nightmare for me. They hurt me like I did something to them” Mhaldin said. “Now I’ve gotten away from them and they’re still following me. They’re attacking Fenera now. I’m going out to slaughter them all. I’ve sat back and done nothing, now they’ll all pay with their lives!”
'You’re not a killer…'Fenera thought.
'Not yet' Mhaldin thought.
Mhaldin charged out of the shadows and jumped on the back of the banjo player forcing him to the ground. The man was dead before he fell: the sword of Rarend through his heart. The others were so off guard that they were still smiling at the song and music when Mhaldin began to kill them. For Mhaldin, it was a simple matter of pointing the pressure cannon at random people and pulling the trigger.
“No, YOU murdered all those people in New Caesarus!” Mhaldin yelled. “I saw the ashes! You and all your genocidal followers aren’t worth the food you eat! You are a sickness on the two planets. I didn’t murder anyone, I CURED them!”
"I loved you with my soul, I took care of you. I raised you" she said softly to Mhaldin. "When you were kidnapped, my life became a living nightmare. But we got you back". Her voice grew hard and sharp like water that was freezing, and equally as cold. "Now you...murder, kidnap. These are things that no child of mine knows how to do. You are not my son. Go with Usor'an, do whatever, I don't care what happens to you anymore".
"We can be friends" Usor'an offered as he sat down next to Mhaldin.
"Yuel is dead, but I want more" Mhaldin said to Usor'an. "Its time I took up my quarrel with the Higharc".
(much, much later...)
“On behalf of the Higharc, the people of Starseran, Jindaria and Eray, I welcome you,” the emissary said as he approached Mhaldin to shake hands. Mhaldin raised his hand, but not to shake hands. The emissary’s head fell to the floor: a blade that had unfolded from Mhaldin’s palm sat in his hand and blood sat on its edge.
No sooner had Mhadin murdered the emissary when the other scorighters attacked. Gunshots rang out and both drem guards were killed before they could bring their weapons to bear on their young adversary. The whole thing took less than five seconds.
The crowd stood and gazed in disbelief at what they had just seen. They just could not comprehend what they had seen. It was too unreal for them. Mhaldin looked up at the astonished faces, his young face beaten into a hateful glare. He swept his sword down towards the crowd as the scorighters unfolded guns from their hands.
“Kill them!” he screeched.
“I am sorry magistrate. I can only imagine how you feel,” Aironel raised his eyes to Mhaldin’s. “But if you kill us you’ll perpetuate the war”. Mhaldin didn’t react. “You’ll perpetuate the war, the one Eray wanted to start so desperately”. No reaction. “You can’t take vengeance, many people will die”.
“Isn’t that exactly what the Higharc wanted?” Mhaldin asked, his wings flapped a bit. Aironel pressed his hands together as though praying.
“Don’t you want this war to end? Do you think that killing all of us will help anything?” Aironel begged, his calm demeanor began to melt away.
“You are a sickness on Eray. I need to cure this world of you”.
“You’re making a mistake,” Aironel cried. “This is a peace talk you maniac!” Mhaldin stabbed Aironel in the stomach and leaned down. He pressed the flames from his two “wing” tendrils against the drem’s face. The smell of charred scales stung his nose. Mhaldin threw down the smoldering carcass and gestured to the angels. They machines descended down onto the Erayics, blades unfolded from their front limbs. Mhaldin joined them, and was lost in a tempest of screaming and blood. He hacked and killed, no mercy to anyone. None of his victims could fight back, none of his victims could get away. He killed the unarmed drem with the angels. At last he had his revenge.
It was over far too fast.
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
Theme Songs
songs I have matched to the personalities and roles of characters.
Anar's Theme song: "Amaranth" by Nightwish
Rook's Theme song: "Planet Hell" by Nightwish
Usor'an's Theme song: "Pompeii" by E S Posthumus
Saldella's Theme song: "Welcome to the Jungle" by Guns and Roses
Theme song for all goblins: "Numa Numa"
Arcool's Theme song: "Bown Down (pray to your god)" by DZK
Jacob Theme song: "Jump around" by House of Pain
Rarend's Theme song: "Ghost of the sun" by Katatonia
Engeel's Theme song: "Points of Authority" by Linkin Park
Asseah's Theme song: "Rich girl" by Gwen Stefani
Skander's Theme song: "Falling away from me" by Korn
Fenera's Theme song: "Wake up" by Hilary Duff
Lynx's Theme song: "Wake me up inside" by Evanescence
Mhaldin's Theme song: "SOCCENT Attack" Transformers Score by Steve Jablonsky
Svva'cke's Theme song: "One Step Closer" by Linkin Park
Rendith's Theme song: "Canon Rock" by guitar90
Usor'vash's Theme song: "Phantom of the Opera" as heard in the famous play
Fury: "Bodies" by Drowning Pool
Anar's Theme song: "Amaranth" by Nightwish
Rook's Theme song: "Planet Hell" by Nightwish
Usor'an's Theme song: "Pompeii" by E S Posthumus
Saldella's Theme song: "Welcome to the Jungle" by Guns and Roses
Theme song for all goblins: "Numa Numa"
Arcool's Theme song: "Bown Down (pray to your god)" by DZK
Jacob Theme song: "Jump around" by House of Pain
Rarend's Theme song: "Ghost of the sun" by Katatonia
Engeel's Theme song: "Points of Authority" by Linkin Park
Asseah's Theme song: "Rich girl" by Gwen Stefani
Skander's Theme song: "Falling away from me" by Korn
Fenera's Theme song: "Wake up" by Hilary Duff
Lynx's Theme song: "Wake me up inside" by Evanescence
Mhaldin's Theme song: "SOCCENT Attack" Transformers Score by Steve Jablonsky
Svva'cke's Theme song: "One Step Closer" by Linkin Park
Rendith's Theme song: "Canon Rock" by guitar90
Usor'vash's Theme song: "Phantom of the Opera" as heard in the famous play
Fury: "Bodies" by Drowning Pool
Sunday, August 24, 2008
Excerpts 5: Good and Evil
The following are some decent/cruel quotes from all the books I have yet done.
"I'll go in first" Rook volunteered as he moved Anar out of the way. "You have too much to lose. And if anyone deserves to die today its me".
Usor'an grumbled in sour surprise as the unknown knight had raised his visor and showed who he was. "Erasora'hn, how nice of you to come" Usor'an said. "Did you have fun burying your son?"
"No one is beyond redemption Rook, not even you"
Underneath every land controlled by a ruleship the layers of rock began to tremble and split. It initially went unnoticed by the inhabitants, but as time wore on the earth began to noticeably shake. All who experienced this suspected an earthquake and tried to find someplace they could go to in order to be safe. Farmers lay on the ground and prayed for it to end, people who were indoors sought a place to hide or escape.
“What are your feelings towards me?” Asseah asked quietly. “Will you tell me or shall I guess?”
“You can guess, but first here’s a hint” Anar whispered. Then he kissed her.
The third person she healed was a refugee, despite Gherantro’s orders to do otherwise. The refugee was a young human girl of around eight years. She lay on her front and three deep arrow-wounds bloodied her back. Beside the girl sat her mother who was cross legged and wept quietly into her palms while waiting for her daughter to die. Fenera was too good to ignore this and healed the girl.
“I’m feelin’ better” the girl said.
“Tockella?” the mother asked in surprise. “Tockella?”
Yuel asked for the amber coloured liquid and held it up when it was handed to him.
“This liquid is used by our healer as an antidote for various paralyzing toxins. One effect it has is it sharpens the feeling in the body for a period of time. You can rub it on or drink it. Either way, your skin can mistake a pinprick for the fiery thrust of a dagger. We give this to him and we won’t even need the healing salve. We could torture him with a single splinter of wood if we wanted to”.
“The true consequence of a new war with the demons” began Anar, ignoring the drem “will be the sorrow it will bring to the next generation. It’s time we truly end the fighting”.
Wraith turned away from the slave ship and looked ahead as his horse clopped down the road. "I've owned a few myself and found that the best thing about getting a new slave girl is dressing her for the first time" Wraith said. He answered Yuel's question before it came. "I enjoy it because nothing gives me more satisfaction then seeing that crushed look on her young face when she sees her costume and realizes that all she has left to live for is humiliation and torment. Its so...gratifying".
"Why do you heal those peasants?" Iscka asked Fenera. "It's a waste of magic. They'll just get sick again".
"It makes me feel good" was Fenera's reply.
"I'll go in first" Rook volunteered as he moved Anar out of the way. "You have too much to lose. And if anyone deserves to die today its me".
Usor'an grumbled in sour surprise as the unknown knight had raised his visor and showed who he was. "Erasora'hn, how nice of you to come" Usor'an said. "Did you have fun burying your son?"
"No one is beyond redemption Rook, not even you"
Underneath every land controlled by a ruleship the layers of rock began to tremble and split. It initially went unnoticed by the inhabitants, but as time wore on the earth began to noticeably shake. All who experienced this suspected an earthquake and tried to find someplace they could go to in order to be safe. Farmers lay on the ground and prayed for it to end, people who were indoors sought a place to hide or escape.
“What are your feelings towards me?” Asseah asked quietly. “Will you tell me or shall I guess?”
“You can guess, but first here’s a hint” Anar whispered. Then he kissed her.
The third person she healed was a refugee, despite Gherantro’s orders to do otherwise. The refugee was a young human girl of around eight years. She lay on her front and three deep arrow-wounds bloodied her back. Beside the girl sat her mother who was cross legged and wept quietly into her palms while waiting for her daughter to die. Fenera was too good to ignore this and healed the girl.
“I’m feelin’ better” the girl said.
“Tockella?” the mother asked in surprise. “Tockella?”
Yuel asked for the amber coloured liquid and held it up when it was handed to him.
“This liquid is used by our healer as an antidote for various paralyzing toxins. One effect it has is it sharpens the feeling in the body for a period of time. You can rub it on or drink it. Either way, your skin can mistake a pinprick for the fiery thrust of a dagger. We give this to him and we won’t even need the healing salve. We could torture him with a single splinter of wood if we wanted to”.
“The true consequence of a new war with the demons” began Anar, ignoring the drem “will be the sorrow it will bring to the next generation. It’s time we truly end the fighting”.
Wraith turned away from the slave ship and looked ahead as his horse clopped down the road. "I've owned a few myself and found that the best thing about getting a new slave girl is dressing her for the first time" Wraith said. He answered Yuel's question before it came. "I enjoy it because nothing gives me more satisfaction then seeing that crushed look on her young face when she sees her costume and realizes that all she has left to live for is humiliation and torment. Its so...gratifying".
"Why do you heal those peasants?" Iscka asked Fenera. "It's a waste of magic. They'll just get sick again".
"It makes me feel good" was Fenera's reply.
Friday, June 27, 2008
Excerpts 4: Charge!!!!
The following are some brief exxcerpts that highlight the more violent side of the series.
“A mage” the lieutenant growled. He said this as people began crowding into the keep. He was almost swept away by the volume of terrified fighters coming in. “Don’t stand together! Don’t stand densely!” the lieutenant warned but it was too late. Through the crowd of bodies he saw Rook emerge from one of the towers. The last thing the lieutenant saw in the living world was Rook gesturing in his direction and then a fireball coming his way…
Up on the hill, the five Chazzans were shocked when a scorighter teleported into being right beside them. One of the five was a talented mage, but the scorighter recognized him for what he was by his necklace of orbs, and slew him first. The Chazzans scattered and hurriedly drew their weapons to defend themselves. The first of the four tried to sever his head. The scorighter did not parry, instead he ducked his head and stopped the sword by grabbing it in his teeth. His return stab finished the human. As two more men came at him with their swords, one from either side, demon jumped back with astounding speed and grace. Before the two realized what had happened they were both attacked by the scorighter who now fought with two blades.
The Chazzans were holding out against the tide of demons. There were many breaches in the wall which provided the demons many ways into the Chazzan line, but they were so narrow and well defended that the demons simply could not make any headway. The spearheads of scorighters had enjoyed limited success, but the Chazzans were too skilled to be pushed back. It was clear that if the demons were to engage the Chazzans then they’d need to break down more of the wall. The portable rams scrambled to see to this. The Chazzan legionnaires fought by holding their large shields in front of their bodies to keep themselves safe while stabbing out at the demons from behind their protection. In this way they could keep themselves safe while still striking the enemy down. This tactic worked against the servants, but scorighters had an annoying tendency to press against the shield and force the legionnaire back, thus compressing the Chazzan line. Though very well organized, the chaos of the fighting was causing the Chazzan soldiers to grow more disorderly.
A horn of Verrelinorian build rang out, and the Verrelinorians charged the demon army. Across the field, at the exact same time, the oran horsemen charged the demons. Like a mighty pair of jaws, the two cavalry forces closed in on the vast bar of demonic soldiers. On Karylia’s signal, the surviving valkyries fired their bows at the demons. The arrows thudded into their victims seconds before the Verrelinorian riders collided with them.
“CHARGE!” Usor’an roared. On his orders two thousand torch-armed scorighters, or the “arson squads”, rushed at the city. Anar and his guards dashed into the city and were lost in the streets. “I want every scorighter in the city! Kill everyone you find! But don’t touch that human, he’s mine!”
One notable man had survived the barrage of manipulated arrows by hiding behind the parapets of the keep walls. He now rose up and drew a short sword in a ring of steel. He rushed at Rook with his blade raised above his head. Rook didn’t even look at him and gave a subtle gesture as he watched the fort from his perch and the men who fled before him like terrified mice. The man who was charging Rook had a bolt of mageforce shot into his chest. His armor cracked like glass and he fell to the ground a dead man.
...His conclusion was that a powerful group of mages were causing havoc within the city and needed to be stopped. So now he watched the trees, on the lookout for mages.
“Seen anyone?” Talvar asked. “I’m thinking of going into the city and having a look for myself”.
“Ther city was attacked by what sounds like a highly talented mage”.
“What makes you think it was a mage?” Talvar asked. “What makes you think it was only one man? Survivors describe worms with a dozen long legs that can spew fire from their very limbs”.
“The valkyries ascend the plateau my king. We are attacked”.
“It’s about time” Usor’an snorted as he closed the book.
“You’re Anar” Fury said, “the boy with the sword. I am Fury, Usor’an’s daughter”.
“I am Anar as you said” Anar said, “and you are under arrest”. With that two lawmen stepped up behind her and clasped her shoulders.
“I am” Fury began, “a destroyer!” She leapt into the air, throwing both men back. In a flash Fury drew one of the lawmen’s swords and killed them both, opening their throats. Anar jumped back and engaged Fury with the sword of Rarend.
“The oran wing is broken” the cultist said.
“Good” Usor’an said, “And it’s only a matter of time until the Verrelinorians break. Then we surround the hill and break the walls down on all sides and overwhelm the enemy. Send a message to Usor’verten. Tell him to organize the troops, get them back in formation. We need to repair the damage that the cavalry charges did”.
The hundreds of demon riders were being pushed back by the massed spearmen, who were sweeping them away like a giant broom. Kelpies turned around and retreated away from the spears. Verrelinorian and Chazzan horsemen cut down the demons as they backed off from the thistle of weapons. Demons that were originally simply pulling back were suddenly being ripped apart and forced into a full retreat.
"The demons broke the column and surrounded us before we could organize" sobbed Dashadu. "The whole army is gone".
"Who's left?" Saldella inquired.
"Nobody! The whole army is gone, obliterated by demonic weapons!" Dashadu wept.
Then something completely unexpected happened. It caught everyone off guard and sent tremors of terror surging through all those present. It happened so quickly that it took Anar a few minutes to fully comprehend what had happened, and even longer to accept it.
Fifty Higharc men were suddenly engulfed in flame that burst from their flesh, an event that could not have happened naturally. It took them a minute to burn to ash. Anar at first believed himself to be hallucinating, but it happened again.
“What in Eray is going on?!” shrieked Nuda. “Fall back…” then his head fell to the floor, decapitated by an invisible blade.
“The fighting” Jacob replied, “I can honestly say I wasn’t ready for it. I never thought I’d ever have to see this kind of misery. There’s blood on everything”. Jacob demonstrated by scratching his hair, then showing Talvar his fingernails which had collected dried blood which stained his hair.
“A mage” the lieutenant growled. He said this as people began crowding into the keep. He was almost swept away by the volume of terrified fighters coming in. “Don’t stand together! Don’t stand densely!” the lieutenant warned but it was too late. Through the crowd of bodies he saw Rook emerge from one of the towers. The last thing the lieutenant saw in the living world was Rook gesturing in his direction and then a fireball coming his way…
Up on the hill, the five Chazzans were shocked when a scorighter teleported into being right beside them. One of the five was a talented mage, but the scorighter recognized him for what he was by his necklace of orbs, and slew him first. The Chazzans scattered and hurriedly drew their weapons to defend themselves. The first of the four tried to sever his head. The scorighter did not parry, instead he ducked his head and stopped the sword by grabbing it in his teeth. His return stab finished the human. As two more men came at him with their swords, one from either side, demon jumped back with astounding speed and grace. Before the two realized what had happened they were both attacked by the scorighter who now fought with two blades.
The Chazzans were holding out against the tide of demons. There were many breaches in the wall which provided the demons many ways into the Chazzan line, but they were so narrow and well defended that the demons simply could not make any headway. The spearheads of scorighters had enjoyed limited success, but the Chazzans were too skilled to be pushed back. It was clear that if the demons were to engage the Chazzans then they’d need to break down more of the wall. The portable rams scrambled to see to this. The Chazzan legionnaires fought by holding their large shields in front of their bodies to keep themselves safe while stabbing out at the demons from behind their protection. In this way they could keep themselves safe while still striking the enemy down. This tactic worked against the servants, but scorighters had an annoying tendency to press against the shield and force the legionnaire back, thus compressing the Chazzan line. Though very well organized, the chaos of the fighting was causing the Chazzan soldiers to grow more disorderly.
A horn of Verrelinorian build rang out, and the Verrelinorians charged the demon army. Across the field, at the exact same time, the oran horsemen charged the demons. Like a mighty pair of jaws, the two cavalry forces closed in on the vast bar of demonic soldiers. On Karylia’s signal, the surviving valkyries fired their bows at the demons. The arrows thudded into their victims seconds before the Verrelinorian riders collided with them.
“CHARGE!” Usor’an roared. On his orders two thousand torch-armed scorighters, or the “arson squads”, rushed at the city. Anar and his guards dashed into the city and were lost in the streets. “I want every scorighter in the city! Kill everyone you find! But don’t touch that human, he’s mine!”
One notable man had survived the barrage of manipulated arrows by hiding behind the parapets of the keep walls. He now rose up and drew a short sword in a ring of steel. He rushed at Rook with his blade raised above his head. Rook didn’t even look at him and gave a subtle gesture as he watched the fort from his perch and the men who fled before him like terrified mice. The man who was charging Rook had a bolt of mageforce shot into his chest. His armor cracked like glass and he fell to the ground a dead man.
...His conclusion was that a powerful group of mages were causing havoc within the city and needed to be stopped. So now he watched the trees, on the lookout for mages.
“Seen anyone?” Talvar asked. “I’m thinking of going into the city and having a look for myself”.
“Ther city was attacked by what sounds like a highly talented mage”.
“What makes you think it was a mage?” Talvar asked. “What makes you think it was only one man? Survivors describe worms with a dozen long legs that can spew fire from their very limbs”.
“The valkyries ascend the plateau my king. We are attacked”.
“It’s about time” Usor’an snorted as he closed the book.
“You’re Anar” Fury said, “the boy with the sword. I am Fury, Usor’an’s daughter”.
“I am Anar as you said” Anar said, “and you are under arrest”. With that two lawmen stepped up behind her and clasped her shoulders.
“I am” Fury began, “a destroyer!” She leapt into the air, throwing both men back. In a flash Fury drew one of the lawmen’s swords and killed them both, opening their throats. Anar jumped back and engaged Fury with the sword of Rarend.
“The oran wing is broken” the cultist said.
“Good” Usor’an said, “And it’s only a matter of time until the Verrelinorians break. Then we surround the hill and break the walls down on all sides and overwhelm the enemy. Send a message to Usor’verten. Tell him to organize the troops, get them back in formation. We need to repair the damage that the cavalry charges did”.
The hundreds of demon riders were being pushed back by the massed spearmen, who were sweeping them away like a giant broom. Kelpies turned around and retreated away from the spears. Verrelinorian and Chazzan horsemen cut down the demons as they backed off from the thistle of weapons. Demons that were originally simply pulling back were suddenly being ripped apart and forced into a full retreat.
"The demons broke the column and surrounded us before we could organize" sobbed Dashadu. "The whole army is gone".
"Who's left?" Saldella inquired.
"Nobody! The whole army is gone, obliterated by demonic weapons!" Dashadu wept.
Then something completely unexpected happened. It caught everyone off guard and sent tremors of terror surging through all those present. It happened so quickly that it took Anar a few minutes to fully comprehend what had happened, and even longer to accept it.
Fifty Higharc men were suddenly engulfed in flame that burst from their flesh, an event that could not have happened naturally. It took them a minute to burn to ash. Anar at first believed himself to be hallucinating, but it happened again.
“What in Eray is going on?!” shrieked Nuda. “Fall back…” then his head fell to the floor, decapitated by an invisible blade.
“The fighting” Jacob replied, “I can honestly say I wasn’t ready for it. I never thought I’d ever have to see this kind of misery. There’s blood on everything”. Jacob demonstrated by scratching his hair, then showing Talvar his fingernails which had collected dried blood which stained his hair.
Thursday, June 12, 2008
Excerpts 3: Personal Favorites
The following are some of my favorite quotations from the whole series (excluding ones already up):
"If I wanted to hear you whine I'd break your legs" -Usor'an
“You are correct” said the drem “I am two hundred and twenty years old, are you done with the questions?” Anar nodded.
“Then get back into your bunk before I wring your neck”
“With this sword, I have served the Higharc just as all of you will. Look upon this weapon and look upon your heritage, the same heritage that is under threat by those who would despoil your lands. You need not be a drem with an ancient sword to make a difference! You can be a regular militiaman on the field. We fight so that no more people will lose faith in Higharc democracy the way the Rushersonics have. We fight to protect our family’s lives! We fight because we are the men of the Higharc!” He spoke these words with such confidence and premeditation that Anar wondered if they were rehearsed.
(planning a battle)
Talvar began to move the demonic army forward until it made contact with the Jindarian counters or the earthworks around the hills.
“The clotheaters will form the western wing, the oran will form the eastern wing” Talvar said.
“What do we do when this happens?” Talvar's lieutenant asked, indicating the map and army counters.
“The demons will try and charge the wings” Talvar said. “Usor’an will want to use momentum and superior numbers to crush our formations. How do you stop a charge?” Again, he looked around the room.
“Counter charge?” someone suggested.
“Not when you are outnumbered to the extent that the wings will be”.
“Fight defensively?” another suggested.
“Expand on that” .
“You slow it down” Kamon stated as he stepped into the tent. “A charge is always disorganized. The power of a charge lies in its momentum. Take away the momentum, and all you have is a disorganized force moving forward. That’s how we beat you Aragenkart”.
"In the names of all the gods" -A common curse equivilant of "oh god" or "Jesus"
"You boys have left your homes behind for this hellish existence that is a military career” snapped the sergeant “I can already tell you fools will be found as dead, forgotten dogs on a blasted field”.
“Is the battle going well?” Ckai asked. “I can’t see very well. All I smell is blood. Is it our blood or theirs?”
“Both” Atteac replied as Ckai stepped over a body which she did not care to examine. She thought the body was dead but it grabbed Ckai by the leg.
(Making bombs) “Their beer is very high in alcohol so to get the troops drunk faster. Alcohol is what makes the beer burn” Anar explained. “Anyways, I’d hate to call it stealing. Since the Chazzans’ aren’t sharing their beer, I think it is only fitting that we put it to a use more practical than turning our allies into drunken maniacs”.
“This is heart” Dashadu noted as she swallowed the first bite. “Beef?”
“Human” Usor’an answered.
"Looks like we're outnumbered again" Talvar murmured as he scanned the horizon.
"Why the hell are we always outnumbered?" Ckai stammered.
“Freedom has a hundred contradicting meanings and each is invented by the speaker to serve the speaker’s own selfish gains. In the end, freedom is distilled from the want to live without responsibilities or law" Chai said.
"Why do you hate Yuel so much?" asked the thug, his captors holding him tightly. "Does he owe you some money?"
"No" replied Erasora'hn, "He killed my son"
"If I wanted to hear you whine I'd break your legs" -Usor'an
“You are correct” said the drem “I am two hundred and twenty years old, are you done with the questions?” Anar nodded.
“Then get back into your bunk before I wring your neck”
“With this sword, I have served the Higharc just as all of you will. Look upon this weapon and look upon your heritage, the same heritage that is under threat by those who would despoil your lands. You need not be a drem with an ancient sword to make a difference! You can be a regular militiaman on the field. We fight so that no more people will lose faith in Higharc democracy the way the Rushersonics have. We fight to protect our family’s lives! We fight because we are the men of the Higharc!” He spoke these words with such confidence and premeditation that Anar wondered if they were rehearsed.
(planning a battle)
Talvar began to move the demonic army forward until it made contact with the Jindarian counters or the earthworks around the hills.
“The clotheaters will form the western wing, the oran will form the eastern wing” Talvar said.
“What do we do when this happens?” Talvar's lieutenant asked, indicating the map and army counters.
“The demons will try and charge the wings” Talvar said. “Usor’an will want to use momentum and superior numbers to crush our formations. How do you stop a charge?” Again, he looked around the room.
“Counter charge?” someone suggested.
“Not when you are outnumbered to the extent that the wings will be”.
“Fight defensively?” another suggested.
“Expand on that” .
“You slow it down” Kamon stated as he stepped into the tent. “A charge is always disorganized. The power of a charge lies in its momentum. Take away the momentum, and all you have is a disorganized force moving forward. That’s how we beat you Aragenkart”.
"In the names of all the gods" -A common curse equivilant of "oh god" or "Jesus"
"You boys have left your homes behind for this hellish existence that is a military career” snapped the sergeant “I can already tell you fools will be found as dead, forgotten dogs on a blasted field”.
“Is the battle going well?” Ckai asked. “I can’t see very well. All I smell is blood. Is it our blood or theirs?”
“Both” Atteac replied as Ckai stepped over a body which she did not care to examine. She thought the body was dead but it grabbed Ckai by the leg.
(Making bombs) “Their beer is very high in alcohol so to get the troops drunk faster. Alcohol is what makes the beer burn” Anar explained. “Anyways, I’d hate to call it stealing. Since the Chazzans’ aren’t sharing their beer, I think it is only fitting that we put it to a use more practical than turning our allies into drunken maniacs”.
“This is heart” Dashadu noted as she swallowed the first bite. “Beef?”
“Human” Usor’an answered.
"Looks like we're outnumbered again" Talvar murmured as he scanned the horizon.
"Why the hell are we always outnumbered?" Ckai stammered.
“Freedom has a hundred contradicting meanings and each is invented by the speaker to serve the speaker’s own selfish gains. In the end, freedom is distilled from the want to live without responsibilities or law" Chai said.
"Why do you hate Yuel so much?" asked the thug, his captors holding him tightly. "Does he owe you some money?"
"No" replied Erasora'hn, "He killed my son"
Friday, June 6, 2008
Excerpts 2: Offbeat quotations
The whole series is a more serious piece of work. It takes a gritty and real view on moralities and war. The fighting is certainly very anti-heroic (as opposed to the LoTr hack-and-slash battlefests that have become so popular). But there are still some pieces and quotations that are a little less-than-serious. Here are a few:
-"Am I to stay with you too?” Jacob asked. “Fine, I guess there’ll be no tavern-going for me”.
-Cursing, Laldan scrambled to his feet (after being knocked over) and screamed that he would put the offending man in the stocks. He fell silent when he saw the offender was Usor’an.
“I do not believe your stocks will hold me for long” mocked the destroyer.
-"The more you talk the louder I'll snore" Talvar stated lazily, "just get to the bloody point".
-"Don't let the draconites escape their cages" warned the master. "Last time that happened I was washing guts off the roof for two days"
-“Demonic plate mail is weak around all its joints to allow mobility....Yet the most important weak spot lies around the bottom of the center of the tasset, just above the two cuisses”.
“So the crotch” Halivor blurted out.
-'I swear' thought Anar as he drew away from the doorway to hide the incredible sight, 'sometimes I feel like I'm living in a fairy tale'.
-"First man to break and run dies!" threatened the Rushersonic sergeant as the battering ram struck the door again. His men tensed themselves against the impending attack...The ram broke the door open and the first wave of demons came in. All held their ground, except the sergeant, who made for the shadows with all haste.
-'What's so fascinating about the way a woman walks?' Rook wondered
-"Am I to stay with you too?” Jacob asked. “Fine, I guess there’ll be no tavern-going for me”.
-Cursing, Laldan scrambled to his feet (after being knocked over) and screamed that he would put the offending man in the stocks. He fell silent when he saw the offender was Usor’an.
“I do not believe your stocks will hold me for long” mocked the destroyer.
-"The more you talk the louder I'll snore" Talvar stated lazily, "just get to the bloody point".
-"Don't let the draconites escape their cages" warned the master. "Last time that happened I was washing guts off the roof for two days"
-“Demonic plate mail is weak around all its joints to allow mobility....Yet the most important weak spot lies around the bottom of the center of the tasset, just above the two cuisses”.
“So the crotch” Halivor blurted out.
-'I swear' thought Anar as he drew away from the doorway to hide the incredible sight, 'sometimes I feel like I'm living in a fairy tale'.
-"First man to break and run dies!" threatened the Rushersonic sergeant as the battering ram struck the door again. His men tensed themselves against the impending attack...The ram broke the door open and the first wave of demons came in. All held their ground, except the sergeant, who made for the shadows with all haste.
-'What's so fascinating about the way a woman walks?' Rook wondered
Monday, May 19, 2008
Eray: Rated R
If there is one concern I have when I am typing it is that I am writing about things that are unacceptably dark. My writings are certainly not an excerpt from the screenplay of "Elmo in Grouch Land" but they aren't exactly the most light-hearted of stories either. This is fantasy for teens and the odd young adult so I shouldn't hold back too too much. The youth of today don't give a crap when the good guy punches someone in the face or if someone gets killed with a sword. All five books I am working on have death and blood in them to some extent.
I am not afraid that the violence is too dark, by books are no darker than Lord of the Rings in that respect. But there are some parts that are worrying to me.
The first one is Rook the anti-hero. He's a GOOD guy for pete's sake and he kills with impunity, is apparently sadistic, and betrays, degrades, talks down to, and even attacks his friends.
The second part is going overboard with the violence. While being killed in no big whoop in a book, talking about men bursting into flame and turning to dust might bring about some sickness in the younger readers. Tripping over a dead man in battle only to realize he's mortally wounded but still alive and screaming for help (something that happens in book 3) might be pushing it for the weak-stomached.
The third are some particularly frightning examples that I had to be careful with. I had to be careful when writing about the torture of a 13 year old boy (book 5) the execution of that same boy, sexual themes (most prevelant around book 3) and the systematic extermination of civilians (book 3).
I have an antidote for all three.
For Rook I have my characters remind him (and therefore the reader) that his actions are unacceptable and he sometimes has to atone for them.
For the second, I try to make such brutal descriptions of violence only during the largest fights, when it it stylish to depict the gritty nature of warfare. Instead of the fairytale battles where a bonk on the head slays the orc, I write about the realistic fight where a gutted soldier takes 23 hours to die. ONLY WHEN IT IS STYLISH. Meaning very rarely.
The third varies from case to case. The general idea is I merely imply that the thing has happened. In the case of torture, I showed the prelude and aftermath to the ordeal but not the "interrogation" itself. In the case of sexual themes, I keep it so modest that you have to know what you're looking for to notice or I imply the possibility. Cause how will anybody know that Anar had sex during that twenty minute gap of time when he was parting with his woman in book 3 unless they are thinking about it? For things like extermination of civilians I merely state that it happened and showed the aftermath (but not the bodies) as well as some accounts of the destruction (withholding the actual killing).
In conclusion, I can merely say that the best way to keep myself from writing about things too dark is to avoid them. I only write about dark themes if it is absolutely needed for the plot, unlike vampire stories and the fluff for Warhammer 40000. And I don't personally think my stories are too mature in that way either. At least, I don't think they are...
I am not afraid that the violence is too dark, by books are no darker than Lord of the Rings in that respect. But there are some parts that are worrying to me.
The first one is Rook the anti-hero. He's a GOOD guy for pete's sake and he kills with impunity, is apparently sadistic, and betrays, degrades, talks down to, and even attacks his friends.
The second part is going overboard with the violence. While being killed in no big whoop in a book, talking about men bursting into flame and turning to dust might bring about some sickness in the younger readers. Tripping over a dead man in battle only to realize he's mortally wounded but still alive and screaming for help (something that happens in book 3) might be pushing it for the weak-stomached.
The third are some particularly frightning examples that I had to be careful with. I had to be careful when writing about the torture of a 13 year old boy (book 5) the execution of that same boy, sexual themes (most prevelant around book 3) and the systematic extermination of civilians (book 3).
I have an antidote for all three.
For Rook I have my characters remind him (and therefore the reader) that his actions are unacceptable and he sometimes has to atone for them.
For the second, I try to make such brutal descriptions of violence only during the largest fights, when it it stylish to depict the gritty nature of warfare. Instead of the fairytale battles where a bonk on the head slays the orc, I write about the realistic fight where a gutted soldier takes 23 hours to die. ONLY WHEN IT IS STYLISH. Meaning very rarely.
The third varies from case to case. The general idea is I merely imply that the thing has happened. In the case of torture, I showed the prelude and aftermath to the ordeal but not the "interrogation" itself. In the case of sexual themes, I keep it so modest that you have to know what you're looking for to notice or I imply the possibility. Cause how will anybody know that Anar had sex during that twenty minute gap of time when he was parting with his woman in book 3 unless they are thinking about it? For things like extermination of civilians I merely state that it happened and showed the aftermath (but not the bodies) as well as some accounts of the destruction (withholding the actual killing).
In conclusion, I can merely say that the best way to keep myself from writing about things too dark is to avoid them. I only write about dark themes if it is absolutely needed for the plot, unlike vampire stories and the fluff for Warhammer 40000. And I don't personally think my stories are too mature in that way either. At least, I don't think they are...
Wednesday, April 23, 2008
The Cure for slacking off: piss myself off
What a strange concept? The cure for slacking off when writing is to get myself angry, or rather, cheesed off. Genuine anger is distracting and makes me upset, pissing myself off gets me worked up and frustrated. It is the ultimate cure to writer's block (as long as I have some kind of idea). That should be an antithesis of writing coherently, I mean, shouldn't frustration scramble my thoughts and make myself think less clearly? No.
I noticed it first when procrastinating. I do it alot when I am writing and have access to the internet (I'm doing it right now). YouTube videos are some of the best things in the world and I cannot get enough of them. I was watching a video which featured a Christian bashing the fantasy genre as being evil and satanic, thus all who even glance at it turn into sinners and go to hell. That really frustrated me. I got really frustrated, which made me passionate and excitable. To the video, I thought "you don't like witchcraft, eh?" The next minute I had written four pages about a demon destorying a city with magic of the most evil kind. It fit into the story like a puzzle piece.
Now, if I feel lazy or lacking in motivation to write, I go straight to the internet and read statements from missionaries (GeT a LiFe YoU iDIOtS!!!), statements about creationists (ThE DuMbEsT pEoPlE iN tHe WoRlD!!!) or remind myself of the Inheritance cycle (SoMeThInG sO bLaTaNtLy PlAgArIzEd AnD aWfUlLy WrItTeN sHoUlD nOt HaVe BeEn AlLoWeD!!!) The next moment I am pumped and ready to type. As a bonus, I can think of more firey scenes when I'm furstrated
Eg. I'm bored (Wraith pressed Anar against the wall and leveled his sword's blade against his throat. "Where is it?" the demon asked.
I'm pissed ( Wraith fiercely clenched Anar's throat in his his hand and threw him painfully against the closest wall. He brought face closer to the eyes of the panicking human and pressed his sword against his neck. "Where is it?" the demon demanded "
Sunday, March 23, 2008
Excerpts 1: Rook the anti-hero
Some passages that I think deserve to be shown.
(From book 1: Outside of the gates of a city, Rook gets out from under a car he was holding onto the bottom of in order to gain free transport)
“Aye, you!” the gruff voice of the driver shouted to Rook. “What were you doing under my cart? Did I run you over?” Rook snuck a glance at the sunburned man who was now looking at Rook with a confounding stare.
“Not to worry” Rook said, his face still covered.
“Are you sure you are fighting fit?” the driver asked and he caught a long glimpse of Rook’s face when he climbed down from his cart and inspected him. “Do you have some wasting disease?” Rook was quite offended by that question and considered murdering the driver where he stood with a wring of the neck. He imagined the sound the driver’s neck would make as it broke and it made him smile in sickly delight...
...“You must be the product of some disease” the driver added as he climbed back onto his cart and began to drive away. Rook took a few steps towards the city and scooped a small rock off the ground.
“A product of some disease, am I?” Rook asked, then he turned around and threw the rock at the driver in his cart who was now twenty meters away with an angry shout. The rock sailed through the air and hit the old man in the head, knocking him out cold. He wouldn’t remember his encounter with Rook when he would come to the next day.
(From book 1: Rook's reaction to a dead teenager)
“Why is this so sad?” demanded Rook with a piercing voice that brought a squawking bird to mind. “He was just like everyone else who I have seen killed. What makes him so special, what did he do to earn your petty grievances?”
“He was a boy” replied Saldella “have you no understanding of this? He didn’t even live through half of his life before dying. You don’t remember much about your past, but do you at least remember the sadness endured when a young person dies?”
“No” replied Rook “I cannot be sad. It’s not something I’ve been able to do very well”.
(From book 1: Rook collects change in a tavern)
“I am giving you one last chance” said Rook “I paid a silver dollar for an eight copper dollar drink. You owe me ninety two copper dollars”.
“How will you claim it?” asked the barkeep as he drew a rapier “will you rob me?”.....The tavern exploded into chaos as the fight erupted. Glasses were thrown and tables were overturned. Punches were exchanged and some people went down with bloody noses or broken bones.
Rook parried a swing from the barkeep, then kicked him in the knee. The barkeep fell over, dropping his rapier. Rook picked up the rapier and tossed it behind the counter. Rook peacefully finished off his drink and placed the glass onto the counter, then he found the barkeep’s coin pouch sitting behind the counter. He opened it and found it overflowing with copper coins and bronze coloured coins all the size of a thumbnail. Rook saw the coins had the symbol of the Higharc on them. Rook dumped out the coins from the pouch and put ninety-two copper coins into his own money pouch. Then he decided against being honest and stole the remaining coins, including the silver dollar he bought the drink with.
(From book 1: In a deserted battlefield, Rook and Anar have conflicting means of treating prisoners)
“Go” ordered Anar. “Run away, we don’t need or want any prisoners”.
“What?” the Rushersonic scout asked. “Aren’t we on opposite sides?”
“We cannot keep you and killing you would be senseless” answered Anar. “And our sides are eventually going to reach peace anyways”. The grateful cavalryman nodded before stumbling off into the dark.
Rook walked up beside Anar carrying one of the long spears the cavalrymen had used.
“I am proud of your decision” said Rook. “But the scout was right. This is war and he is an enemy”. He threw the spear point first toward the retreating man. The spear pierced the man’s heart and he fell to the ground with a heavy thud.
Anar blinked in shock and then yelled “What in the name of all of the gods was that for?” Rook walked towards the dead soldier as he replied
“In the name of all of the gods, all of them have a big backpack filled with supplies. Plus we get these two fine horses”.
“You…murdered him. He wasn’t even facing you when you threw that spear” Anar shouted as he ran over to the felled scout to learn if he was slain.
“Again I must remind you that our two sides are at war”.
“We won’t be at war for very long” Anar remarked as he discovered the scout to be dead. “Rusherson cannot stand against the massive armies of the Higharc”.
“Not unless the demons are helping them” Rook answered. He removed the scout’s backpack and began sorting through its contents which hadn’t been damaged by his spear throw. “This looks tasty” Rook said to himself as he inspected a small item which was wrapped in paper and gave off a meaty smell.
“But…” Anar stammered, “I’ve just seen so many awful things in one day. I didn’t want to see anymore dying so I let this man go. You spoiled it”.
“You’re a smart boy. You should know that war is a terrible thing” stated Rook.
“This man didn’t have to die”
“He is only one man, there are plenty of others where he came from” Rook calmly said as he unwrapped the paper-covered object he held. “Would you like some jerky?”
(From book 2: Rook's low opinion of his comrades-in-arms)
“You may have more appreciation for nature than me, oran” the soaking man said as he slipped in a puddle of mud and fell on his stomach. The whole group stopped briefly the stone skinned sailor hauled himself up, clothes stained with dirt. “If the rest of the journey is going to be this miserable” the sailor said once he had stood up. “I’m out”.
“Be my guest” Rook muttered as he wiped dripping rain from his mask’s eyeholes. “One less mouth to feed”.
“Rook” Anar said. “Not everyone is feeling at their best right now. We’re caught in the rain, we’ve had our ship cloven in two by a giant fish, the land that we though would be peaceful contains a community of kelpies, and the war is going poorly for our side. I understand why some of the crewmen are feeling down right now. They signed on expecting a smooth voyage and now a few of the original crew have been killed. Some of the crew are just afraid that they too might die”.
“Fine then” Rook said. “Let him leave, one less corpse to bury”.
(From book 3: Inside a temple which is recovering from attack, Rook and a local talk)
“The demons have kidnapped one of my friends” he said to the governor quietly. “We need some of your mageforce to teleport over to their hideout and rescue him before the demons harm him”.
“No, teleporting is forbidden” the governor’s mage replied. “The first wall on the Temple of Laws prohibits teleporting”. Rook narrowed his eyes behind his mask.
“Why?” he asked.
“Jindar says that teleporting is an anathema”.
“Why is it an anathema?”
“Because it’s an abomination”.
“Why?”
“Because it is very offensive to the gods”.
“Why?”
“They forbade it”.
“WHY! WHY! WHY! WHY! WHY!” Rook said loudly while cupping his hands around his mouth to project his voice. The mage frowned and scratched his head.
“I don’t know” he concluded.
(From book 3: Rook interrogates a prisoner)
“Where is Usor’an’s hideout?” Rook asked the destroyer as two mind reading valkyries scoured her thoughts in case the mention of the hideout invoked its memory.
“I’ll never say its location” she promised “or think it”. She had caught onto their methods of interrogation and was showing remarkable resistance. So far she hadn’t thought about the hideout and given her captors no answers.
“Is it underground?” Rook asked.
“It isn’t” answered one of the valkyries. “She just slipped”.
“Is it similar to the place you are in right now?”
“That got no reaction” the other valkyrie said. “In her head she’s repeating the words ‘my name is Usor’manar’. Just saying it over and over”.
“Your hide-out Usor’manar, where is it?” Rook demanded as he tapped the side of her head. “The only reason I’m not torturing you is because I have nothing with which to torture”.
“Stop tapping me” Usor’manar muttered.
“Shelter!” Rook yelled in her hear as he banged her head against the wall. The two valkyries looked a little uneasy at this show of force, but were rewarded with a few slipped thoughts.
“They’re hiding in the Temple of Jindar” both valkyries replied at once.
“Now that wasn’t so hard?” Rook thought as he banged her head against the wall a second time and threw her down to the floor.
(From book 1: Outside of the gates of a city, Rook gets out from under a car he was holding onto the bottom of in order to gain free transport)
“Aye, you!” the gruff voice of the driver shouted to Rook. “What were you doing under my cart? Did I run you over?” Rook snuck a glance at the sunburned man who was now looking at Rook with a confounding stare.
“Not to worry” Rook said, his face still covered.
“Are you sure you are fighting fit?” the driver asked and he caught a long glimpse of Rook’s face when he climbed down from his cart and inspected him. “Do you have some wasting disease?” Rook was quite offended by that question and considered murdering the driver where he stood with a wring of the neck. He imagined the sound the driver’s neck would make as it broke and it made him smile in sickly delight...
...“You must be the product of some disease” the driver added as he climbed back onto his cart and began to drive away. Rook took a few steps towards the city and scooped a small rock off the ground.
“A product of some disease, am I?” Rook asked, then he turned around and threw the rock at the driver in his cart who was now twenty meters away with an angry shout. The rock sailed through the air and hit the old man in the head, knocking him out cold. He wouldn’t remember his encounter with Rook when he would come to the next day.
(From book 1: Rook's reaction to a dead teenager)
“Why is this so sad?” demanded Rook with a piercing voice that brought a squawking bird to mind. “He was just like everyone else who I have seen killed. What makes him so special, what did he do to earn your petty grievances?”
“He was a boy” replied Saldella “have you no understanding of this? He didn’t even live through half of his life before dying. You don’t remember much about your past, but do you at least remember the sadness endured when a young person dies?”
“No” replied Rook “I cannot be sad. It’s not something I’ve been able to do very well”.
(From book 1: Rook collects change in a tavern)
“I am giving you one last chance” said Rook “I paid a silver dollar for an eight copper dollar drink. You owe me ninety two copper dollars”.
“How will you claim it?” asked the barkeep as he drew a rapier “will you rob me?”.....The tavern exploded into chaos as the fight erupted. Glasses were thrown and tables were overturned. Punches were exchanged and some people went down with bloody noses or broken bones.
Rook parried a swing from the barkeep, then kicked him in the knee. The barkeep fell over, dropping his rapier. Rook picked up the rapier and tossed it behind the counter. Rook peacefully finished off his drink and placed the glass onto the counter, then he found the barkeep’s coin pouch sitting behind the counter. He opened it and found it overflowing with copper coins and bronze coloured coins all the size of a thumbnail. Rook saw the coins had the symbol of the Higharc on them. Rook dumped out the coins from the pouch and put ninety-two copper coins into his own money pouch. Then he decided against being honest and stole the remaining coins, including the silver dollar he bought the drink with.
(From book 1: In a deserted battlefield, Rook and Anar have conflicting means of treating prisoners)
“Go” ordered Anar. “Run away, we don’t need or want any prisoners”.
“What?” the Rushersonic scout asked. “Aren’t we on opposite sides?”
“We cannot keep you and killing you would be senseless” answered Anar. “And our sides are eventually going to reach peace anyways”. The grateful cavalryman nodded before stumbling off into the dark.
Rook walked up beside Anar carrying one of the long spears the cavalrymen had used.
“I am proud of your decision” said Rook. “But the scout was right. This is war and he is an enemy”. He threw the spear point first toward the retreating man. The spear pierced the man’s heart and he fell to the ground with a heavy thud.
Anar blinked in shock and then yelled “What in the name of all of the gods was that for?” Rook walked towards the dead soldier as he replied
“In the name of all of the gods, all of them have a big backpack filled with supplies. Plus we get these two fine horses”.
“You…murdered him. He wasn’t even facing you when you threw that spear” Anar shouted as he ran over to the felled scout to learn if he was slain.
“Again I must remind you that our two sides are at war”.
“We won’t be at war for very long” Anar remarked as he discovered the scout to be dead. “Rusherson cannot stand against the massive armies of the Higharc”.
“Not unless the demons are helping them” Rook answered. He removed the scout’s backpack and began sorting through its contents which hadn’t been damaged by his spear throw. “This looks tasty” Rook said to himself as he inspected a small item which was wrapped in paper and gave off a meaty smell.
“But…” Anar stammered, “I’ve just seen so many awful things in one day. I didn’t want to see anymore dying so I let this man go. You spoiled it”.
“You’re a smart boy. You should know that war is a terrible thing” stated Rook.
“This man didn’t have to die”
“He is only one man, there are plenty of others where he came from” Rook calmly said as he unwrapped the paper-covered object he held. “Would you like some jerky?”
(From book 2: Rook's low opinion of his comrades-in-arms)
“You may have more appreciation for nature than me, oran” the soaking man said as he slipped in a puddle of mud and fell on his stomach. The whole group stopped briefly the stone skinned sailor hauled himself up, clothes stained with dirt. “If the rest of the journey is going to be this miserable” the sailor said once he had stood up. “I’m out”.
“Be my guest” Rook muttered as he wiped dripping rain from his mask’s eyeholes. “One less mouth to feed”.
“Rook” Anar said. “Not everyone is feeling at their best right now. We’re caught in the rain, we’ve had our ship cloven in two by a giant fish, the land that we though would be peaceful contains a community of kelpies, and the war is going poorly for our side. I understand why some of the crewmen are feeling down right now. They signed on expecting a smooth voyage and now a few of the original crew have been killed. Some of the crew are just afraid that they too might die”.
“Fine then” Rook said. “Let him leave, one less corpse to bury”.
(From book 3: Inside a temple which is recovering from attack, Rook and a local talk)
“The demons have kidnapped one of my friends” he said to the governor quietly. “We need some of your mageforce to teleport over to their hideout and rescue him before the demons harm him”.
“No, teleporting is forbidden” the governor’s mage replied. “The first wall on the Temple of Laws prohibits teleporting”. Rook narrowed his eyes behind his mask.
“Why?” he asked.
“Jindar says that teleporting is an anathema”.
“Why is it an anathema?”
“Because it’s an abomination”.
“Why?”
“Because it is very offensive to the gods”.
“Why?”
“They forbade it”.
“WHY! WHY! WHY! WHY! WHY!” Rook said loudly while cupping his hands around his mouth to project his voice. The mage frowned and scratched his head.
“I don’t know” he concluded.
(From book 3: Rook interrogates a prisoner)
“Where is Usor’an’s hideout?” Rook asked the destroyer as two mind reading valkyries scoured her thoughts in case the mention of the hideout invoked its memory.
“I’ll never say its location” she promised “or think it”. She had caught onto their methods of interrogation and was showing remarkable resistance. So far she hadn’t thought about the hideout and given her captors no answers.
“Is it underground?” Rook asked.
“It isn’t” answered one of the valkyries. “She just slipped”.
“Is it similar to the place you are in right now?”
“That got no reaction” the other valkyrie said. “In her head she’s repeating the words ‘my name is Usor’manar’. Just saying it over and over”.
“Your hide-out Usor’manar, where is it?” Rook demanded as he tapped the side of her head. “The only reason I’m not torturing you is because I have nothing with which to torture”.
“Stop tapping me” Usor’manar muttered.
“Shelter!” Rook yelled in her hear as he banged her head against the wall. The two valkyries looked a little uneasy at this show of force, but were rewarded with a few slipped thoughts.
“They’re hiding in the Temple of Jindar” both valkyries replied at once.
“Now that wasn’t so hard?” Rook thought as he banged her head against the wall a second time and threw her down to the floor.
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