|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 Posted: Mon Apr 09, 2007 5:05 pm
I fixed up my story and I hope this will be the final verson. It seems it will be. Anyway, here is the prolouge:
Baulb peered out of his house into the night. Everything around him was made of brilliant white stone; the he door he was grasping, the near by fountain, even the outside floor, which was many metres from the ground, were all made of stone. He was use to the Stone City, he had lived there all his life, but now something made his hair stand up on the back of his neck.
He was no perfect stranger to fear. Though he did not feel it often, he had felt it a fair few times. The few times that he had spent with the five rascally adventurers, who were probably heading for Petra to meet him that very moment, he had been in situations that were most frightening. Danger seemed to follow them where ever, even into poor Baulb’s home.
So as he scanned the darkness for any peculiar signs (and wishing he had the sense to bring an electric torch) he wondered if this had anything to do with them. After all, they were to be there the very next day so was it impossible for danger to proceed them by twenty-eight hours? But still...
But still, Baulb though as he shifted back into his house and closed the heavy door, the fear that now haunted him seemed different somehow. It was more ... eerie. The times he had been scared out of his wits was the same type of fright that keeps one from jumping off a cliff. The fear now stopped him entirely and seemed to have no origin. Somehow it was worse.
He thought of the old stories that those like Priestist repeated as though they were sacred words that should never be forgotten, even though they have by most. Many of them mentioned creatures of darkness that Priestist would not utter the name of, even though he seemed to know it. They could strike the most peculiar fear into the weak of heart, and are most powerful at night, when the sun does not bother them, glaring their senses and screwing up their concentration.
Baulb snorted. The likelihood of these creatures roaming Petra, or even existing for that matter, was pathetic. Yet he felt sickened at laughing at such things, as one feels sickened for laughing at a gruesome death of a friend, almost immediately afterwards. This fear commanded respect and needed all possibilities open.
Baulb shook his head. This sort of thinking was not rational. He’d have a bite to eat and a drink then go back to bed. By morning the feeling will be gone. But even though he did have a bite and a drink, he could not go to sleep for a long time. The fear kept him awake and even seeped into his dreams when he finally did drop off. Dark things disturbed shadows and the cry of falcons, terrible to hear, moved through his mind.
He woke up in a cold sweat. The cries of falcons still penetrated his brain. Then he realised he was no longer dreaming. The terrible cries of those falcons did split the night, not just his mind. Baulb quickly ran to his window and peered out of the glass. Birds flew everywhere through the city; above the buildings, though the streets; and even into the tunnels that went into the darker areas of the city. And then, the thing that really crushed Baulb’s heart was the shadows ... the shadows that neither light nor dark could touch. Shadows to the light of reality moved though the streets and effortlessly and (as far as he could tell) soundlessly opened the doors to houses and entered.
Baulb wasted no more time. He move quickly enough so that it was not until he had grab the last water jug did he hear it. Among the crying of the falcons came screams ... screams of women, shouts of men, and even the shrill crying of children. Hot tears began to flow down his eyes as he shouldered his pack, grabbed a few swords and, for extra precaution, a gun. Finally he grabbed his walking stick and made for his back door.
He slipped out and looked around. One of the shadows slipped out of a nearby house, but did not head for Baulb. It headed for a running child. Baulb watched horrified as the shadow picked up the boy, who was only thirteen years, and held him up in the air. The boy became so pale that he seemed to shine in the darkness and soon slumped over. The shadow then dropped him and caught a woman trying to escape in the opposite direction of Baulb’s escape route. Now was the time.
Now truly sobbing with fear, revulsion, and sadness, Baulb turned and ran away from the shadow and the woman it now held. Somehow he stumbled through the chaos of, not just screaming people and falcons, but also streets and roads. He found the South Gate and found it mercifully wide open. He stumbled out, but seemed to be the only one. As he exited, he noticed two shadows not far from him. They had just drop two babies and noticed him. One took a step forward, but the other held it back.
It said in a terrible, indescribable voice that was not in any language that Baulb knew, or perhaps it was not in any language or any voice and was just a thought in the mind. But the meaning was clear as he did so, No, he is just one. Leave him to find the others. They left him. It was some time before he remembered to move.
He left the cawing, screaming, dying city of Petra behind him and never saw it the same way again.
That is the best I could do. So ... what can I fix?
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat May 26, 2007 8:34 pm
I love what you've shown so far of the plot! I'm very interested in reading what will happen in the story. There were some grammatical and spelling errors here and there, and the flow was a little confusing--but only a little. Personally, I think the paragraphs were a bit short, but if that was part of your style, its fine. Also, the scene with the shadows could use a bit more emotion than just an objective view. Overall, though, it was good. Keep at it!
|
|
|
|
|
|
Pseudonym or Nom De Plume
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat May 26, 2007 9:48 pm
There aren't any spelling errors. I used British spelling, which is a little different. (color - colour, traveler - traveller) Thank you though.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat May 26, 2007 9:53 pm
Compelling, interesting, and descriptive. Good qualities of a good story. I like how you didnt run-on sentences and put short paragraphs so the readers dont get "lost" in text.
Keep it up.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun May 27, 2007 9:12 am
Two good reviews that point out the specifics. Arigato! ((The first chapter might be a little jarring from the prologue, but I promise that it'll clear up by the second or third chapter.))
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Aug 08, 2007 8:13 pm
Here is Chapter One, Part One:
Rio Morrie gave a sigh of relief as he dropped his massive back pack at the inn room door and laid down on the bed. He was use to walking, but the Mauchi terrain was exceptionally adverse with numerous woods and unending hills and rocks. With the trail’s unexplainable winding, it had taken him longer to reach the village of Dui than he expected and so it was well after dark when he finally saw the first stone-build house.
He lay there for another few minutes, expecting sleep to overtake him – but it did not come. Sighing, he heaved himself back to his feet and walked away from the kitchen back towards the door. The corridor was lit by both natural and artificial light. Rio removed a candle in a holder next to his door and lit it with another. Then he walked to the end of the corridor and into the common room.
He was dimly surprise to find that there were still a few people chatting in unsettling quiet voices. Rio walked over to one of the three tables filled with candle light.
“May I join you?” he asked the two men in excellent Mauchi language.
They surveyed him for several long moments before one of the nodded. Rio, far too use to this sort of behaviour to be bothered by it, set his candle on the table also and seated himself.
“So, what news do you bring?” asked Rio comfortably.
The man who had accepted Rio to their table immediately went into speech. “The Geam are pushing the boarders even closer on us. They’ve taken the whole of Lake Urnimancy only a few short days ago.”
Rio, who was surprise that anyone from Mauchi could pronounce “Urnimancy”, turned to ask the keeper on shift for an ale only to find him with a pint mug next to him. The keeper placed it in front of him. He said a word of thanks before he headed back to the bar.
“The Geam don’t have enough targets without Mauchi?” Rio asked after taking a sip of ale. “I mean, it is right up against Lucida and they are a bigger threat – “
“But you’d be mad to attack Lucida. No, mark my words lad; they aren’t going to take Lucida until they’ve taken the rest of the planet.”
“Then let’s hope it stops there,” muttered Rio, who had little confidence in the rest of the countries’ armies.
“Yea, I just escaped from the burning of U-ri-me,” nodded the man emphatically. He seemed to forget his intended dark manner.
“It’s Urime,” Rio corrected, but frowned. “Do the Geam usually burn villages?”
“What else would they do with them damn things?” demanded the night timer. Rio noticed two empty pint mugs next to the one in his hand.
“What things? Grenades?” asked Rio.
“Aye, ge-nah-ahds,” the man slurred.
Rio stared at him, trying not to laugh. “You should go to bed. You’re looking a little at sixes and sevens.”
“Sixes and sevens?” muttered the drunk suspiciously. “Where are you from anyway?”
Rio choked slightly on his ale. “Erm,” he muttered sheepishly after surfacing, “I’m from Grutain, actually.”
The drunk looked outraged. “Not only an outsider, but one from off-planet as well? Get going, you have no business here! You’re the reason they’re tearing down houses.”
“What do the Grutain have to do with the Geam conquest?” asked Rio reasonably.
“Not the Geam, them construction workers,” shouted the man, causing the rest of the near empty common room to look around in alarm.
“What construction workers?” asked Rio, frowning again. “I thought the Mauchi built their house on their own, so why would there be any – “
“Because of them!” shouted the drunk, standing up. “The mayor saw them all giddy about their damn technology and decided to tear down and rebuild all the houses, one by one!”
Rio stared at him, and then took in the rest of the room. Some looked ready to shout in agreement with the man’s words, but one was shaking his head. The man next to Rio hadn’t moved at all.
Rio struggled to find a reply, but save the trouble by another voice, this one a woman’s.
“Alright, I think you should go find a room, dream of happy land and tell us this story in morning. Someone should get him a map though.”
Rio recognised the snappy language more than the voice – it was his sister, Kerry. Rio leapt right out of his seat and turned on the spot to see her face. But unfortunately the darkness prevented him from making out more than a few details such as the steel blue eyes and black hair to match his own.
“Kerry,” he breathed.
“Yes, Rio it is me,” she snapped, but with a joking tone to her voice. “There is only one way to Petra, so some of us were bound to meet here.”
Rio looked confused. “So where is everyone else?”
“Well, I saw Cinel and Hiro entering another inn,” answered Kerry, “and Priestist is probably already waiting for us at Baulb’s with another mad adventure for us.”
Rio nodded thoughtfully – then suddenly gave Kerry a hug.
“Oi, let go of me you bloody lunatic,” snarled Kerry, pushing him off. “This is a public place.”
Rio wanted to say, “You’re a bit old to be worrying about that,” but curbed his tongue.
Instead he let go and asked, “So are you going to share any of your stories tonight?”
Kerry’s voice suddenly changed; she sounded more mature now and had switched to the language of the Grutain. “Actually I have something more like a report. Things have been happening lately, I’m sure you’ve noticed and I’ve have something on that.”
“And no doubt Priestist will too,” Rio stated without the slightest clue what things his sister was talking about. “But come now, sit with me and these two – “
He stopped because both were gone, as were their candles. Rio shook his head and muttered to Kerry to forget about it. She laughed.
“You need to be more observant of your surrounding, brother,” she teased. “I’m tired though, so I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Rio squinted at her as she turned and left the common room up a different corridor than the one Rio came from. He sighed and drained the rest of his ale. He bade good night and returned to his room.
I would like both opinions and critiques.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Reply
