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Ferox
Joined: 27 May 2009
Posts: 694
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 Posted: Wed Sep 23, 2009 11:24 pm Post subject: Serious fiction |
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I take my fiction writing seriously and would appreciate any useful feedback anyone cares to give me on the first chapter and prologue posted here. Particularly perceptions of the characters, how it makes you feel, getting lost in the scenery, spelling errors etc. Hopefully it's worth reading.
If you give me some useful feedback I'll throw you some SBF cash.
| Quote: | WyrmHole
“My feet hurt,” complained Kat as she and her friend Jesse meandered through an alley way between the old university buildings. They had been built one by one over the decades and ranged in style from the classical Old Arts building to the modern and weird three dimensional art that decorated the rusty walls of the Culture Studies building. Large, well grown trees decorated the grounds, but in the smaller alley ways between buildings only little hedges and sheets of ivy grew. In the alley beside the towering physics building the walls had also been molested by the graffiti of students. The scrawls varied in degree of thoughtfulness from hasty scribbles declaring the existence of the writer to mathematical symbols which may have been an inside joke of professors or a desperate breakthrough by a more educated class of student short on paper.
“Been standing all day?” Jesse asked sympathetically. Kat nodded.
“Five hours of physics labs and new shoes is never a good combination.” Kat was a well dressed young woman compared to the average science student. Her shirt was ironed, her pants were clean, devoid of chemical stains and her shoes were polished. Her dyed red hair was contained neatly in a ponytail and her face was accented with thick-rimmed burgundy glasses.
“Physics,” Jesse scoffed, “Why you want to major in physics I’ll never understand. All that theory with no use, trying to decide whether things do or don’t exist.” Kat looked almost offended as she shifted the weight of her backpack.
“But Jesse, all science is finding out whether things do or don’t exist. It’s seeking the truth.”
“That wasn’t what I meant,” she said, clutching her computer programming book to her chest. Jesse was dressed rather more casually than Kat, in comfortable blue jeans, a Buffy the Vampire Slayer T-shirt, a black jacket and sneakers. Her black hair floated freely around her head and displayed a single blue streak. “I meant like what’s his name’s cat, everything and nothing at the same time. Until you look, which then defines it. It’s a silly, egotistical theory.”
“No it’s not,” insisted Kat, “It’s a clever theory. Things can be in any state until they are observed to be what they are, which is the most likely probability.” Jesse shrugged.
“Are the others coming for coffee or not?” University exams were but a few weeks away, and the academic pressures were already starting to affect the behaviour of the students. Libraries and pubs were filling up at three in the afternoon. Students traditionally divided themselves into those who preferred to study with the aid of textbooks or the aid of alcohol. Since laptops became more affordable it had become increasingly possible for students to study or procrastinate anywhere in the city.
“Mel is coming across campus, you know she’s going to be late as usual,” Kat replied. “Steffi said she’d meet us at the café. I assume Torri’s coming, but I haven’t heard back. She probably doesn’t have any credit on her phone.”
“That’s us students for you,” laughed Jesse, “No job, no credit, and no direction.”
“That’s just art students,” scoffed Kat. “My direction is up. Up there.” Kat pointed upwards to the top floors of the towering old physics building. The physics building was old, built in the days where buildings were made to last, and as such had managed to withstand all the potentially destructive experiments that had taken place within its walls. It largely resembled a grey concrete bunker extended to reach seven stories high with sporadic windows to allow the researchers within some daylight and a chance to synthesise some vitamin D. Only one window still glowed with the illumination of a fluorescent bulb. Brass letters above the main door spelt out ‘Physics’ and smaller chalk letters beside it said ‘abandon hope all ye who enter here’.
“A physics PHD and a discovery to change the world. That’ll be me,” she continued.
“Yeah, well you do that,” said Jesse, “And I’ll make a fortune selling magazines stories about your mischief as a teenager!”
“You wouldn’t dare!”
“I would!” The two friends laughed together as they reached the street at the edge of the University campus. There were few cars, but trams rattled back and forth along their tracks. Kat swung her backpack off her shoulders and rummaged through it, looking for her wallet.
“So, you were saying everything must be observed to exist as it is,” mused Jesse as she fetched her own tram ticket from her handbag. “Then what happens to all the other ways it could have existed?”
“They still exist, in a parallel, unobservable way,” replied Kat as she stood up. “For example, my lab coat could have been in my bag, until I observed it to be empty. In another version of this universe I didn’t forget it and I wouldn’t have to go back for it.”
“Do you want me to come?” Jesse asked.
“No, you wait here in case Mel manages to meet us here on time,” insisted Kat, grabbing her wallet and identification card. “Can I leave my books with you? I promise I’ll be back as quick as I can.” Jesse nodded,
“Sure, but hurry. If Mel gets here before you’re back then we just might go without you.”
“You’d better not,” Kat laughed as she jogged back the way they had come. Jesse dragged Kat’s bag around the corner and leant against the back of the physics building, facing the street. It was an unusually quiet moment with no cars driving by, only a lone tram picking up a wandering soul and continuing on its way. A light breeze picked up and pushed along various pieces of rubbish in the gutter. A rare moment of quiet in the city, thought Jesse, so rare and almost unnoticed. Almost not existing. The breeze gained strength and suddenly became cold. Jesse could hear the sizzle of electricity. She looked around to see the traffic lights flashing erratically.
“I guess we’ll have to walk,” she sighed. She peered down the alley between the buildings as the electrical sizzle grew louder. Uneasily she noticed lights from the physics building also starting to flicker.
“Stupid physics.” The wind grew stronger, whipping Jesse’s hair around her face as she stared at Kat’s backpack leaning against the wall of the physics building. The wall was glowing. What are those crazy physicists doing now? She thought as she reached forward to drag the backpack away from the suspiciously illuminatde wall. Suddenly the wind pushed her off her feet and she landed ungracefully on her back.
“What the?” Jesse asked of the universe in general. The universe responded with a ripple in the glowing wall. Jesse lay on the ground, dumbstruck. She had heard media propaganda about physicists trying to split the atom when it shouldn’t be split and destroy the world, but she never thought they’d manage to do something real. As she was thinking this, a huge reptilian head emerged from the centre of the undulation. Jesse could see that the head was slightly bigger than her own, covered in dark blue scales that reflected the glare from the erratically flickering traffic lights. The head pushed through the rippling wall, and Jesse felt that the world had suddenly become darker. The reptilian head was attached to a long elegant neck, a cylindrical body with four long legs, two bat-like wings and a surprisingly lengthy, scaled tail. It stood regally on the pavement, turning its head to survey the streetscape. It was nearly the size of a horse, and moved like one, though the end of its feet were clawed. Jesse was frozen in shock; things like this just didn’t happen! Things like this just didn’t exist! The creature trilled to itself, tilting its head to one side in a bemused way as it watched the traffic lights flicker. Then it finally noticed Jesse, still lying on the ground. She could feel her heart pounding as it crept up to her, its head low and wings back. Her throat was dry as it stood over her. They were face to face. She could see her own petrified expression reflected in its dark eyes, and feel its warm breath on her face.
“Please don’t eat me,” Jesse whispered, trembling. Suddenly the creature jerked backwards, eyes widening, as if it had been hurt by her simple words. It scampered to turn around and gallop back to the glowing wall of the physics building from which it came. It leapt into the wall and vanished into the ripple. The wind was even stronger now as Jesse struggled to her feet, clutching Kat’s backpack and her own belongings. She struggled against the wind, but it seemed to be pulling her in towards the rippling wall. The more she struggled, the stronger it seemed to pull.
“Help!” she cried as the wind swept her off her feet and towards the ripple. Jesse saw a flash of light, and then was gone.
Dragon’s Wake
The wind blew past the whispering trees, carrying arboreal secrets for only trees to know, as though nature had nothing better to do with itself other than gossip. The babbling brook gushed over moss covered rocks and the lairs of fish on its constant journey to the sea. A brilliant circle of light grew in the sky to illuminate the surrounding valley, and a midnight blue dragon with golden tints soared through from another world. This was not a common occurrence. It skidded onto the grassy ground with an almighty crash, frightening rabbits and knocking the leaves off bushes. The moonlight illuminated streaks of colour along its flanks, but they were pale and ghostly. It rearranged itself to sit upright and turned to the East. It turned its scaled head back and forth, trilled worriedly to itself and clumsily took off once more. Behind the frantic dragon a small, human figure looked at the bright hole from which she had been thrown, to the creature that had created it and said, with rather unladylike language,
“What the hell!” But the dragon kept flying, and nothing around the abandoned figure gave her an answer. The bright hole contracted rapidly before her eyes and the cold night went on, uncaring for the soul that had been dropped into its depths.
Some time later the sun rose over the hills, as it has a habit of doing, warm and orange, chasing the chill out of the air. There was dew forming on the grass, and birds were practicing a few notes before bursting into the morning chorus. Jesse swore in frustration. The twigs were damp with dew, and the shredded grass below them was also far from tinder dry. It was never going to catch alight, no matter how hard she tried, constantly flicking the cigarette lighter. The tiny flame would smoulder, and then give up, but unlike the flame, Jesse wasn’t going to give up. I mustn’t give up. I have a half-full lighter, a bunch of books and a brain. I might not know where I am, but I’m sure as hell going to figure out what I’m doing. She was shivering, being inappropriately dressed for the chill of the morning in thin denim jeans, T-shirt and black jacket. She knew she could probably start a fire with Kat’s books, but the idea felt so fundamentally wrong to her that she had elected to spend the last few hours shivering and persevering with wet twigs and leaves. She couldn’t actually feel her toes anymore, and would have given all her worldly possessions for a hot shower. Her phone had no reception at all, not even emergency numbers, and she had stumbled down onto the bank after trying to orientate herself in the night. She had chosen to attempt a fire on the sandy bank of the brook rather than in the long wet grass further up the bank, but it didn’t seem to be helping her efforts. She surveyed the landscape again, completely clueless as to where she could possibly be. It had been dark when she had fallen through the light to this place, but the morning light had not revealed any clues about her location. She didn’t recognise it at all; the trees reminded her of the old oaks that decorated her home street with fallen leaves, but she was certainly not in any garden. There was no landmark she could recognise either. The hills surrounding her, beautiful though they were, didn’t display any buildings. She couldn’t see even a single power line or road. She couldn’t even hear a road. Jesse listened very carefully, but she could find no noise of vehicles, of civilisation. There was the splash of the brook, the twitter of birds, a rustle in the grass…
“Gotcha!” For an apparent declaration of victory, it was a very calm voice.
“Huh?” Jesse asked dumbly of the universe, as she was tackled, and a bottle rammed onto her head.
“Hey! Get off!”
“Oh.” Jesse’s attacker apparently realised that she was too big to fit into the bottle and released her. “I’m terribly sorry.” Jesse stared at her apparent bottle-stuffing attacker, dusting herself off. She was a fairly young, strangely dressed woman. A collection of bottles hung from the belt around her waist and clicked along her hips. Her long brown hair drifted softly in the breeze.
“Excuse me, but what are you doing?” asked the attacker, deliberately forgetting the bottle incident and casually replacing the bottle in her hands onto her belt.
“What does it look like?” Jesse snapped, gesturing indignantly to her pitiful pile of twigs.
“You appear to be trying to light a fire with a container of water,” said the local hesitantly, confusion showing in her cloudy blue eyes. Jesse glared angrily as the stranger regarded her with care. The stranger looked as if she had just come from a convention, the sort that obscure roleplaying nerds went to. She was dressed in clothes that were scruffy and not at all modern; a faded blue shirt laced with a strip of leather at the lower edge of the neckline and durable brown pants with sturdy boots. She didn’t appear to have even a touch of makeup.
“It’s not water it’s some kind of hydrocarbon,” Jesse muttered, rubbing her head. She was cold, she was hungry, she was tired and most importantly of all she couldn’t understand what was going on anymore.
“My head hurts, you know.”
“Sorry about that. Would you like some help? With the fire?” the stranger asked to break the silence.
“Fine!” Jesse snapped. Jesse wasn’t having a good day. The stranger gestured to the pathetic collection of twigs. A tiny flame suddenly flickered into existence at the tip of the stranger’s finger and drifted downwards to light the fire. Jesse suspected her day was about to get worse.
“What… How the hell did you do that?” Jesse stared at the stranger before her with a mix of confusion and fear. People couldn’t do things like that! Not even physicists! The stranger wore a strip of leather around her wrist with eight stones in it. A red one appeared to be glowing, and she was stroking it absent-mindedly.
“Don’t you know?” said the stranger, uncertain.
“No I don’t,” stated Jesse, seeking sympathy, “I’m not having a good day.” The stranger considered this for a moment, and then began to explain, with a hint of uncertainty.
“My fire spirit allows me to make fire. It’s much more efficient at fire-making than using water of any kind.”
“…Is there something wrong with your brain?” asked Jesse, becoming increasingly concerned “Or is there something wrong with mine? Are you playing a trick on me? It’s not very funny! You look like Mel, are you related?” The stranger considered this for a moment.
“…Not to my knowledge. And you?”
“First dragons and now pyrotechnics,” sighed Jesse. She shook her head sadly, shaking dew from her black and blue hair. “If I got hit by a car or something and am now in a coma just tell me and get this over with! It would be like that T.V. series, but without the twelve episodes and a sequel…”
“A dragon?” the stranger interrupted, “I wonder…You’re not from around here, are you? Very, very far away I’d imagine.”
“I suppose so,” admitted Jesse, “If this is real. I can’t see any skyscrapers can you?” The horizon was populated only with hills, trees and absolutely no skyscrapers.
“Skyscrapers?”
“Um…they’re very tall buildings?” Jesse said, hoping for some understanding from the stranger, “So tall they…well…”
“…Scrape the sky?”
“Yes!” said Jesse with the faintest glimmer of hope that the stranger might understand.
“Sorry, no idea.” Jesse’s hope deflated. The stranger sat down by the conjured fire and produced a roll of bread from a bag on her belt. She offered half to Jesse, who cautiously sat by the fire as well.
“So…where am I then?”
“About four days travel west of Bedras.”
“And where’s that?”
“Bedras? Capital of the free world?” The stranger scrutinised Jesse carefully. “You really are an odd one, aren’t you.”
“Not half as odd as you,” Jesse replied. “Look, what’s your name by the way? I’m Jesse. Jesse Black, I’m an info tech student.”
“Detra, a Driasur. I’d take it as a favour if you didn’t mention the bottle stuffing to anyone.” Detra hesitated. “Info tech?”
“Yeah, IT. You know, computers and stuff?”
“Computers?” This could be a very long conversation, thought Jesse.
They spoke by the brook as the sun rose. The wind slowed to a breeze and the brook babbled on, interrupted once by a fish snapping at a careless fly. Detra listened patiently as Jesse tried to explain the aspects of her world that were distinctly missing and Detra tried decide for herself just how far Jesse was out of her depth.
“So, you are clearly not from anywhere around here. I’d have heard of lamp posts that run on lightning in the cities if there were any around here,” Detra mused. She had sat down by the new fire and was stroking her wristband thoughtfully as they spoke.
“And I’d have heard of magic. Well, real magic anyway, it’s all in books. Torri, Mel and Steffi would be on about it endlessly if it was around, there wouldn’t be a moment peace,” said Jesse. She was feeling considerably less chilled beside the fire and reached out to it tentatively to absorb more heat.
“I don’t think I’m in Melbourne anymore,” Jesse said to herself.
“I’m sorry to interrupt this tale of your mysterious world, but we have company,” Detra smiled, pointing over the bank. Three horses slowed to a walk as they reached Jesse and Detra. The first was a large grey creature, all muscle, mist forming around his nostrils as he breathed. His rider regarded Jesse with a blank expression. She seemed so delicate compared to her horse; neatly braided brown hair framed a stern face with a scattering of freckles. She was very slender and dressed plainly like Detra, but she had one feature that Jesse noticed above all others. There was a small but distinctly loaded crossbow sitting comfortably in her hand and aimed at Jesse’s heart.
“What have you caught here?” sneered the second rider. Jesse pulled her attention away from the crossbow to see the second rider. The black horse snorted and tossed his head, glared at Jesse and pawed the ground. His rider was a breathtakingly beautiful blonde with wide, baby blue eyes, but the thing that really took Jesse’s breath away was the ball of fire flickering in her right hand. The blonde stared intently at Jesse, and absentmindedly brushed away a lock of hair, revealing an unusually elongated ear.
“Relax,” Detra said to them, “She was caught in a dragon’s wake. She’s completely harmless.” The third horse was without a rider. She was a sandy colour with a black mane and tail. She danced on the spot and whinnied softly at Detra.
“I am not harmless,” Jesse protested, but she was ignored.
“Eclipse missed you,” said the brunette with the crossbow. Detra stepped forward to stroke the sandy horse’s neck.
“I can tell.”
“Excuse me, I’m still here you know!” stated Jesse, unnerved by these strange people and upset by being ignored. Suddenly a flock of birds flew overhead, chirping rapidly. One stopped on the brunette’s shoulder for a moment before rejoining the flock.
“Ladies, they’re roaming again,” she said after the bird had gone. Detra nodded.
“Let’s go then.”
“Excuse me, but is anyone going to tell me what’s going on?” asked Jesse.
“Avoiding.”
“What?”
“To put it bluntly,” Detra said, “Get on the horse!”
Jesse was allowed to ride with Detra on her sandy mount and sat awkwardly on the saddle as the four crossed the hilly landscape. Jesse found them each odd to look at, but found herself staring at the blonde with the elongated ears most. This did not go unnoticed.
“What? Why are you staring?” asked the blonde on the borderline of anger.
“I’m sorry,” Jesse apologised quickly. “It’s just your ears. I haven’t seen any like that before.”
“Hmph. Not seen many elves then, have you.” Jesse was a little taken aback.
“Elves? Isn’t that very Lord of the Rings of you?” The elf glared.
“I don’t know who this Lord is or why he has rings, but he can shove them up his armour for all I care!”
“I didn’t mean any offense,” Jesse said quickly. “They’re just different. But nice.” The elf regarded her with the mild suspicion usually reserved for regarding the less sane members of society.
“Here we are,” said Detra. “Welcome to our extremely humble abode.” Nestled among the trees was a small shack that looked frequently modified. A grey stone chimney featured on one side with a thin wisp of smoke trailing skywards. The door was sturdy wood with fine trails scorched into it in random patterns. The bulk of the walls were brick but in some places these had been replaced by segments of smooth rock. The roof was also a mismatched medley of tiles with splatters of white bird droppings and an old ladder that rested against the chimney. Plants grew in vaguely defined rows in front of the door, which for some reason the horses didn’t eat.
“Home sweet home,” said the elf, stretching in the sunshine. “My name’s Trillinda by the way.” She offered a hand to Jesse.
“Jesse,” she replied, reaching to shake hands. She pulled away at the last second as flames flickered to life on the elf’s palm.
“Gotcha!” Trillinda laughed.
“Be nice Trill!” said Detra.
“I am!” Trill protested.
“She often does that,” said the other human from atop her grey horse. “She doesn’t mean you any harm. My name’s Veltra.” Jesse hesitated.
“It’s okay,” Veltra smiled, “You can shake my hand safely.”
As soon as she was in the door Trillinda strode over to a bench in the corner and slammed a dead rabbit onto a wooden board. She speedily went about skinning it without a word.
“Come sit down,” said Veltra, gesturing to a few seats around the table in front of the fireplace. Jesse looked around at the stark wooden walls, old wooden chairs and rustic fireplace. The light came from the windows, the smouldering embers and one candle that Detra was in the process of lighting. No light bulbs. No fridges. No computer screens. No glow in the dark clocks. No power points. No plastic IKEA furniture. No familiar trace of home.
“Tell us about yourself,” Veltra said. She sat at the table opposite Jesse and watched her intently. “Where are you from? Why are you here?”
“I don’t know,” Jesse confessed, looking down.
“You don’t know where you’re from?” scoffed Trill, “Oh boy, you found a smart one here Detra!”
“If you’re not going to be helpful then be quiet,” Detra warned. “She’s from a place where buildings scrape the sky.”
“Ha! I’ll believe it when I see it!”
“It’s called Melbourne,” said Jesse, turning in her seat to face Trill. “It’s in Australia.” The whole shack consisted of only one room, including two beds and a hammock, and little potential privacy. There were two tables; one where Trillinda was preparing the rabbit and another currently covered in scattered paper.
“Never heard of it,” Trill shrugged.
“Would you recognize it on a map?” Veltra asked.
“Yes!” Finally, Jesse thought, a use for all those high school geography lessons. Veltra retrieved a long scroll from under the stack of papers and unravelled it. Jesse stared at the unfamiliar cartography.
“So where’s home?” asked Detra, looking over Jesse’s shoulder.
“It’s not there,” said Jesse, a hint of panic in her voice. “And that’s not what the world looks like either! Where’s the pacific ocean?” The map was all wrong, with no trace of the continents she knew.
“What specific ocean?” Detra asked.
“Looks like she’s from fairy land,” Trill laughed. “Fly away fairy girl!” Detra walked across the room to have a quiet work with Trill.
“You’re sure you’re not on the map?” asked Veltra. “That’s the whole world as we know it.” Jesse shook her head.
“Food?” Detra offered. She was holding a wooden platter with a loaf of bread, some apples, a block of cheese and a chunk of ham. Jesse’s stomach chose this moment to remind her of the distinct absence of food in her life recently. Detra took a seat at the table and began to cut up the bread.
“Where’s my seat?” Trill whined. Jesse looked around, there were only three seats at the table.
“Oh. Sorry,” Jesse mumbled.
“Ignore her,” Detra suggested. Jesse reached tentatively for an apple, only to have Trill snatch it and storm out of the building.
“Keep ignoring her,” Detra whispered.
“If your home isn’t on the map,” Veltra continued, unamused by the antics, “Then how did you get here?” Jesse grabbed another apple. “There was
a wall,” she began, a little hesitantly because she knew she wasn’t going to sound sane.
“It began to glow and look fluid. All the lights were doing funky things,” she paused.
“And?” Veltra prompted.
“And then this thing came through the wall,” Jesse continued. “All long legs, neck and wings. It had dark blue scales and it looked at me like it didn’t know what I was, but when I spoke the thing turned and fled back into the wall so fast. It was as though it was the scared one and I was the monster.”
“Did it breathe fire?” Trill yelled, peeking through a window.
“Uh, no.”
“Eavesdropping, are we?” asked Detra. Trill glared and came back inside.
“Did it look like this?” said Veltra, unravelling another scroll. Jesse stared at the sketch in front of her. The black ink on the parchment masterfully illustrated a large, four-legged reptile with immense leathery wings. The artist had captured the creature in mid step and had drawn every single scale. Its eyes stared up at Jesse from the paper.
“That’s it,” Jesse confessed. “That’s the creature.”
“It’s a dragon,” said Detra.
“It didn’t touch you, did it?” asked Veltra.
“No,” Jesse admitted.
“Hmm. What I think happened is as the dragon came through into this world, you got sucked through the hole along side it. Sort of like flotsam getting caught in the ocean current, or the swirls in the water made by an oar,” said Veltra. “It happens in stories, though I’ve never met an other worlder before.”
“How do I get back?” insisted Jesse.
“How do you like your rabbit?” interrupted Trillinda grumpily returning to the cooking area, half eaten apple in hand.
“Uh, um…rabbit…I…” Images of a dozen cute little cartoons flashed through her mind, “…I’m a vegetarian,” she decided lamely.
“A what? You’re a vegetable?”
“I mean I don’t eat meat.”
“Oh, like Veltra. How do you like your rabbit food?” said Trill.
“Ignore her,” said Detra calmly, “She just hates doing cooking. You can’t get back as far as we know.”
“Really?” Jesse asked sadly.
“Oh come on! Like we’d lie to keep another mouth to feed in this house!” sneered Trill.
Jesse listened for several hours as Veltra and Detra tried to explain the situation and Trill grumbled about one thing or another. Veltra pulled a variety of intricately drawn diagrams and sketches from a trunk beside one of the beds to help. Many of them were artworks in their own right but they didn’t really help Jesse’s understanding because a small part of her still insisted that she wasn’t here.
“It looks dark outside,” Detra noticed. “It shouldn’t be long now, should it?” A raven landed on the open window and peered nervously inside. It cawed once as Veltra approached it. They shared a moment before the raven flew away once more.
“Not long at all,” Veltra said quietly. “I think it’s about time we got the horses inside. They’re coming.”
“What? What’s coming?” Jesse asked anxiously.
“You’ll see,” Trill grinned wickedly.
Eerie howls and screeches sounded from behind the trees, just a little too close for comfort. Jesse shivered. If whatever it was that made noises like that was on the moon, it would still be too close for comfort.
“What’s howling?” asked Jesse, watching the trees around the shack nervously. The four of them were on the roof of the shack known as ‘home’, watching the surroundings with great intent, even though it was rapidly growing dark. An owl had taken up residence on Veltra’s shoulder, ruffling its feathers occasionally. Jesse had been too nervous to ask about it. The trees were several metres away from the walls of the shack but surrounded it on two sides. The hills prevented them seeing any great distance in the fading light but the rising half moon allowed Jesse to still differentiate some shapes.
“Do you know what wargs are?” asked Detra.
“No.”
“Wolves?”
“Of course!”
“At least she knows something,” muttered Trill as she dangled her legs over the edge of the roof.
“Wargs are wolves turned nasty,” Detra explained, “They’re cunning and malicious. They usually have goblins with them, which only makes it worse. They’re bigger, stronger and aren’t all that worried about taking on people. They make a mess of anything they can catch.”
“You mean they’ve been here before?”
“Often,” said Trill, standing up and creeping closer, “Stay on the roof or they might get you. They’ll happily start tearing at any exposed flesh they can find until they can rip out your insides, that’s what they’re really after, softer flesh. Blood drives them on, and there’s fire in their eyes that will burn your soul!” Trill flicked her fingers to produce a sudden burst of flame. Jesse shrieked and scrambled backwards.
“Trill, stop it! It might be hard for you to be nice but you don’t have to scare her!” said Veltra.
“And she might fall off the roof,” Detra added gravely.
“You’re right Veltra,” Trill conceded meekly, before turning back to Jesse, “She’ll be scared enough when they start jumping up here after her throat!” Trill leaped at Jesse, making her squeak.
“Trill!” Detra grabbed at one of the elf’s ears, “Be alert, okay?” Just then the first of the wargs appeared over the hill. It looked like a very large wolf, but it was more like the size of a pony. Thick shaggy fur covered its whole body, grey for the most part, but a white stained pink around its face and neck. The setting sun behind it gave it a ghostly appearance, and Trill had been right, its eyes did seem to burn with fire.
“Oh God!” whimpered Jesse. She was sure that leaping onto the roof would be no hard task for this beast. The warg turned its head to the sky and let loose a long, sad, eerie howl, echoing through the surrounding woodlands and valley. Then came the reply, multiple sharp barks, followed by the wargs cresting the hill. There could have been twenty or more, but they moved so fast and Jesse’s heart wa beating so rapidly that it was hard to count.
“Now!” Detra cried. A pillar of moving flame spiralled around to burn whichever warg dared come closest, their fur caught fire and they ran, sometimes into other wargs. Trill laughed wildly,
“Run if you can burn!” The other wargs held back, rapidly reconsidering the situation. Veltra focused hard and flung small pebbles around the building. When they touched the ground earth sprung up like a wall. The pillar of fire faded, the roar of the flame disappearing and leaving the barks and growls of the wargs in its wake. Trillinda and Detra jumped down from the building onto the earthen wall Veltra had created, Trill procureed a whip and laced it with fire. A long icy shard protruded from Detra’s wrist. They slashed at the wargs, driving them backwards.
“Oh God!” cried Jesse. Then a chattering noise came from the crest of the hill, a hoard of little green, bumpy figures ran through the trees. Their small swords gleamed in the moonlight, arrows rained down. Veltra pounced on Jesse to get her head down, Detra and Trill turned to jump behind the earthen walls.
“Ah!” cried Detra, grasping her shoulder where an arrow had struck her. With her back against the wall, Trill blew into her closed fist and with a gleeful expression flung the contents of her hand over the wall. A shower of sparks ignited as they passed over the top. Most of the wargs were already running, but Trill’s summoned shower of embers made sure. Many of the airborne arrows burned in the process. They combusted in the air or smouldered in the dirt. The brighter goblins also decided to run at this point, but those that didn’t found the ground sinking beneath them, and pockets of earth erupting beneath their feet. When only dead goblins and wargs remained, Veltra and Jesse climbed down.
“I really don’t think I’m in Melbourne anymore,” said Jesse.
“They shouldn’t be back for a while,” said Trillinda, her eyes turned to the direction of the fleeing creatures. Only the tiniest flame still flickered at her fingertips. Veltra was examining Detra’s shoulder.
“Your wound isn’t that bad Detra,” said Veltra clinically.
“That’s easy for you to say, you don’t have an arrow sticking out from your shoulder. Why don’t I put one in for you and see how you like it?” barked Detra
“No need to get snappy. Go inside, let’s patch you up.”
The horses were still safely inside, and Jesse got a close look at them for the first time. The largest of the three was Blizzard, Veltra’s horse. He was a huge grey gelding but proved to actually be very gentle. Trill’s stallion, Storm, was his opposite; black, smaller, and positively angry, for no clear reason. He pawed the ground periodically in frustration. Eclipse was Detra’s horse, a sandy coloured mare with a silky black mane, and a glitter in his eye that Jesse didn’t trust, even in a horse. Eclipse was immediately by Detra’s side, sniffing the arrow; Veltra pushed her away quickly so that he wouldn’t do any extra damage and sat Detra down by the fire. She handed Detra a cup with something in it. Trill led the horses outside, one by one.
“For pain,” Veltra assured her. Detra swallowed it quickly, and pulled a face.
“Can’t you ever cook up something that tastes better that that? Now my mouth hurts,” Detra snarled, one hand at the base of the arrow.
“Would you rather have nothing at all?” Detra held her tongue, but Jesse saw her roll her eyes.
“You’re always tetchy when something goes wrong,” remarked Trill as she took Blizzard outside.
“You’d be ‘tetchy’ too if you had an arrow in you!” Detra yelled after her. Veltra took out a clean white cloth from the chest beside one of the beds and snapped off the feathery end on the arrow. Detra flinched.
“Oh come on, it shouldn’t hurt after that broth.”
“Maybe you’re losing your touch,” Detra growled.
“Are you alright?” Jesse asked, half to know, half to distract Detra from what Veltra was about to do.
“What sort of daft question is that?” Trill sneered.
“I will be Jesse, after …Ah!” Veltra plucked the arrow shaft out of Detra’s shoulder, blood poured afresh. Veltra pressed the cloth into the wound and began to focus. Her pupils dilated as her hand lightly touched Detra’s wound. A brown-orange light surrounded her fingers and drifted into Detra’s slowly bleeding wound. The blood began to clot and the bleeding stopped. Jesse watched in fascination as new red flesh grew from the edges of the wound to fill the gap. It contracted the wound, pulling the edges closer together and lightened to a pale pink colour.
“It’ll scar,” said Veltra, assessing her work, “But you’ll be alright.” She began to wrap the cloth around Detra’s shoulder.
“Rest now and don’t stretch it.”
“Does this happen often?” Jesse wondered.
“More than we’d like,” Veltra admitted.
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Last edited by Ferox on Sat Oct 10, 2009 10:41 pm; edited 1 time in total |
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Alabama
Site Admin
Joined: 13 Aug 2008
Posts: 383
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| Posted: Thu Oct 01, 2009 1:31 pm Post subject: |
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Very well written. I was engaged enough to keep reading and it kept my interest enough to finish reading and to offer a critique 
I think your story has some great bones and you've offered a compelling story, it just needs some fleshing out.
The prelude is very good at offering background on Jesse, but when confronted with a complete change, she doesn't hardly react. When the story starts, you skim over her first reactions. Was she scared? Was she confused? Did she panic any? Did she withdraw into mechanical actions for survival? Does she give any thought to rescue? What about her friends that she's supposed to meet? Does she think about them? You touched on this "some time later", but didn't give a detailed explanation of her actions. Why is she trying to start a fire? To hopefully signal to someone? Because she's cold? To cook something?
A couple things, the got me in the prelude was the "glowing wall" and the "ripple" refered to the same way more than twice in one paragraph. Perhaps other words or a different, but similar description for them.
The meeting between Jesse and Detra seems a bit odd.. Jesse takes being bonked over the head in a strange place by a strange woman rather casually and you give the readers the assumption Detra is trying to fit her into a bottle. Detra assuming Jesse is starting a fire with no confirmation of any kind from Jesse seems like you were trying hard for them to have something to bring them together and having Detra light the fire "magically" written just to display the oddness of where Jesse finds herself. Her reaction to the magic is almost rote to a hundreds of other stories about people confronted with the previously undefinable.
Vetra seems the leader of the group, but her character isn't well defined yet. Trill is the troublemaker, full of jokes, but finding a power in scaring Jesse. Detra is just there, I don't know what her roll is. She almost seems to disappear after meeting Jesse until she is hit by the arrow.
They all seem to speak the same way. No real differences in the tempo of their speech, outside of contractions, their speaking style is very "correct" which doesn't add a further dimension to their characters. I don't mean you need to add "affectations" of speech such as a brogue or speech impediment, just maybe not so grammatical. Detra says "Gotcha!" when she attacked Jesse, as does Trill when she tricks her.
It seems as if every time something important looms, you change the subject, leaving the answers until later or trying to draw out suspense through just not saying. While it might keep a reader interested, it will also distract them if it happens too many times. It also disrupts the flow of the story. You hint at something, then don't deliver, instead completely changing the subject. You get the reader interested in the new subject, then either jump back to the original or change to something different.
First, it was the hoofbeats, which sounded ominous, but after three or four paragrapsh of mundane filler, turned out to be nothing threatening.
Next was the "Avoiding" statement, followed by several hours of no further reference or hint before what they may have been trying to avoid happened with no warning to the reader. This is assuming the wargs are what they were trying to avoid.
You start telling the reader about preparing food (one rabbit for 4 grown women), yet through the entire day, no one eats. Though Trill does grumble about cooking for several hours.
They start a conversation about how Jesse got there that ends with her listening for several hours.
Then the howling, yet somehow they manage to get the horses inside and themselves on the roof before any further, explanatory, conversation happens.
I was also a bit put off by the conversation about how Jesse arrived. "What we think happened is as the dragon came through into this world..." When did the conversation between the three locals take place for them to come to this consensus? Why do they think that? Jesse mentioned seeing a dragon only once and not in reference to how she got there and only to Detra. And outside that small exchange, you leave the explanation at that, though they spend several hours explaining what they think happened.
I wanted to hear more about the food in order to get to know the characters better and the explanation of what happened for the same reason. You don't need continuous action to keep your readers' attentions. Vagaries in speech, interaction between the characters themselves and not just how they react to outside forces is what will make them live to your readers.
Grammar errors:
She was very slender and dressed plainly like Detra, but her most distinguishing feature in Jesse’s mind at that moment was the small but distinctly loaded crossbow sitting comfortably in her hand and aimed at Jesse’s heart. Could use more punctuation or separate into two sentences.
One stopped on the brunettes shoulder. Should have an apostrophe on brunette's.
The light cane from the windows, the smouldering embers Cane should be came?
How do you like you rabbit like your rabbit
?
You asked for a critique so I gave one, it's not meant to be mean, I think you write very well, just hope to help make it better. And no, I don't want the cash LOL Writing has been a passion for me as well and I like to help. |
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ChocolateGal
Joined: 29 Jul 2007
Posts: 1868
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| Posted: Sat Oct 03, 2009 4:24 am Post subject: |
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I've just made a few changes in bold for you. Love the story though.
| Quote: | Some time later the sun rose over the hills, as it has a habit of doing, warm and orange, chasing the chill out of the air. There was dew forming on the grass, and birds were practicing a few notes before bursting into the morning chorus. Jesse swore in frustration. The twigs were damp with dew, and the shredded grass below them was also far from tinder dry. It was never going to catch alight, no matter how hard she tried, constantly flicking the cigarette lighter. The tiny flame would smoulder, and then give up, but unlike the flame, Jesse wasn’t going to give up. I mustn’t give up. I have a half-full lighter, a bunch of books and a brain. I might not know where I am, but I’m sure as hell going to figure out what I’m doing. She was shivering, being inappropriately dressed for the chill of the morning in thin denim jeans, T-shirt and black jacket. She knew she could probably start a fire with Kat’s books, but the idea felt so fundamentally wrong to her that she had elected to spend the last few hours shivering and persevering with wet twigs and leaves. She had chosen to attempt a fire on the sandy bank of the brook rather than in the long wet grass further up the bank, but it didn’t seem to be helping her efforts. She surveyed the landscape again, completely clueless as to where she could possibly be. She didn’t recognise it at all; the trees reminded her of the old oaks that decorated her home street with fallen leaves, but she was certainly not in any garden. There was no landmark she could recognise either. The hills surrounding her, beautiful though they were, didn’t display any buildings. She couldn’t see even a single power line or road. She couldn’t even hear a road. Jesse listened very carefully, but she could find no noise of vehicles, of civilisation. There was the splash of the brook, the twitter of birds, a rustle in the grass…
“Gotcha!” For an apparent declaration of victory, it was a very calm voice.
“Huh?” Jesse asked dumbly of the universe, as she was tackled, and a bottle rammed onto her head.
“Hey! Get off me!”
“Oh.” Jesse’s attacker apparently realised that she was too big to fit into the bottle and released her. “I’m terribly sorry.” Jesse stared at her apparent bottle-stuffing attacker, dusting herself off. She was a fairly young, strangely dressed woman. A collection of bottles hung from the belt around her waist and clicked along her hips. Her long brown hair drifted softly in the breeze.
“Excuse me, but what are you doing?” asked the attacker, deliberately forgetting the bottle incident and casually replacing the bottle in her hands onto her belt.
“What does it look like?” Jesse snapped, gesturing indignantly to her pitiful pile of twigs.
“You appear to be trying to light a fire with a container of water,” said the local hesitantly, confusion showing in her cloudy blue eyes. Jesse glared angrily as the stranger regarded her with care. The stranger looked as if she had just come from a convention, the sort that obscure role playing nerds went to. She was dressed in clothes that were scruffy and not at all modern; a faded blue shirt laced with a strip of leather at the lower edge of the neckline and durable brown pants with sturdy boots. She didn’t appear to have even a touch of makeup.
“Would you like some help? With the fire?” the stranger asked to break the silence.
“Fine!” Jesse snapped her reply. Jesse wasn’t having a good day. The stranger gestured to the pathetic collection of twigs. A tiny flame suddenly flickered into existence at the tip of the stranger’s finger and drifted downwards to light the fire. Jesse suspected her day was about to get worse.
“What… How the hell did you do that?” Jesse stared at the stranger before her with a mix of confusion and fear. People couldn’t do things like that! Not even physicists! The stranger wore a strip of leather around her wrist with eight stones in it. A red one appeared to be glowing, and she was stroking it absent-mindedly.
“Don’t you know?” said the stranger, uncertain.
“No I don’t,” stated Jesse, seeking sympathy, “I’m not having a good day.” The stranger considered this for a moment, and then began to explain, with a hint of uncertainty.
“My fire spirit allows me to make fire. It’s much more efficient at fire-making than using water energy.”
“…Is there something wrong with your brain?” asked Jesse, becoming increasingly concerned “Or are you playing a trick on me? It’s not very funny! You look like Mel, are you related?” The stranger considered this for a moment.
“…Not to my knowledge. And you?”
“First dragons and now pyrotechnics,” sighed Jesse. She shook her head sadly, shaking dew from her black and blue hair. “If I got hit by a car or something and am now in a coma just tell me and get this over with! It would be like that T.V. series, but without the twelve episodes and a sequel…”
“A dragon?” the stranger interrupted, “I wonder…You’re not from around here, are you? Very, very far away I’d imagine.”
“I suppose so,” admitted Jesse, “If this is real. I can’t see any skyscrapers can you?” The horizon was populated only with hills, trees and absolutely no skyscrapers.
“Skyscrapers?”
“Um…they’re very tall buildings?” Jesse said, hoping for some understanding from the stranger, “So tall they…well…”
“…Scrape the sky?”
“Yes!” said Jesse with the faintest glimmer of hope that the stranger might understand.
“Sorry, no idea.”
“So…where am I then?”
“About four days travel west of Bedras.”
“And where’s that?” The local didn’t answer immediately.
“I said-”
“Shh…” There was a thunder of hoof beats in the distance. “We’ll have company soon.”
“Look, what’s your name by the way?” Jesse asked, “I’m Jesse. Jesse Black, I’m an info tech student.”
“Detra, a Driasur.” Detra hesitated. “Info tech?”
“Yeah, IT. You know, computers and stuff?”
“Computers?” This could be a very long conversation, thought Jesse.
As soon as she was in the door Trillinda strode over to a bench in the corner and slammed a dead rabbit onto a wooden board. She speedily went about skinning it without a word.
“Come sit down,” said Veltra, gesturing to a few seats in front of the fireplace. Jesse looked around at the stark wooden walls, old wooden chairs and rustic fireplace. The light cane from the windows, the smouldering embers and one candle that Detra was in the process of lighting. No light bulbs. No fridges. No computer screens. No glow in the dark clocks. No power points. No plastic IKEA furniture. No familiar trace of home.
“You don’t know how you got here, do you?” said Veltra.
“No,” Jesse admitted. The whole shack consisted of only one room, including two beds and a hammock, and little potential privacy. There were two tables; one where Trillinda was preparing the rabbit and another currently covered in scattered paper.
“What we think happened is as the dragon came through into this world, you got sucked through the hole along side it. Sort of like flotsam getting caught in the ocean current, or the swirls in the water made by an oar,” said Veltra. “It happens in stories, though I’ve never met an other worlder before.”
“How do I get back?” insisted Jesse.
“How do you like you rabbit?” interrupted Trillinda grumpily from the bench.
“Uh, um…rabbit…I…” Images of a dozen cute little cartoons flashed through her mind, “…I’m a vegetarian,” she decided lamely.
“A what? You’re a vegetable?”
“I mean I don’t eat meat.”
“Oh, like Veltra. How do you like your rabbit food?” said Trill.
“Ignore her,” said Detra calmly, “She just hates doing cooking. You can’t get back as far as we know.”
“Really?” Jesse asked sadly.
“Oh come on! Like we’d lie to keep another mouth to feed in this house!” sneered Trill.
Jesse listened for several hours as Veltra and Detra tried to explain the situation and Trill grumbled about cooking. Veltra pulled a variety of intricately drawn diagrams and sketches from a trunk beside one of the beds to help. Many of them were artworks in their own right but they didn’t really help Jesse’s understanding because a small part of her still insisted that she wasn’t here.
“It looks dark outside,” Detra noticed. “It shouldn’t be long now, should it?” A raven landed on the open window and peered nervously inside. It cawed once as Veltra approached it. They shared a moment before the raven flew away once more.
“Not long at all,” Veltra said quietly. “I think it’s about time we got the horses inside. They’re coming.”
“What? What’s coming?” Jesse asked anxiously.
“You’ll see,” Trill grinned wickedly.
Eerie howls and screeches sounded from behind the trees, just a little too close for comfort. Jesse shivered. If whatever it was that made noises like that was on the moon, it would still be too close for comfort.
“What’s howling?” asked Jesse, watching the trees around the shack nervously. The four of them were on the roof of the shack known as ‘home’, watching the surroundings with great intent, even though it was rapidly growing dark. An owl had taken up residence on Veltra’s shoulder, ruffling its feathers occasionally. Jesse had been too nervous to ask about it. The trees were several metres away from the walls of the shack but surrounded it on two sides. The hills prevented them seeing any great distance in the fading light but the rising half moon allowed Jesse to still differentiate some shapes.
“Do you know what wargs are?” asked Detra.
“No.”
“Wolves?”
“Of course!”
“At least she knows something,” muttered Trill as she dangled her legs over the edge of the roof.
“Wargs are wolves turned nasty,” Detra explained, “They’re cunning and malicious. They usually have goblins with them, which only makes it worse. They’re bigger, stronger and aren’t all that worried about taking on people. They make a mess of anything they can catch.”
“You mean they’ve been here before?”
“Often,” said Trill, standing up and creeping closer, “Stay on the roof or they might get you. They’ll happily start tearing at any exposed flesh they can find until they can rip out your insides, that’s what they’re really after, softer flesh. Blood drives them on, and there’s fire in their eyes that will burn your soul!” Trill flicked her fingers to produce a sudden burst of flame. Jesse shrieked and scrambled backwards.
“Trill, stop it! It might be hard for you to be nice but you don’t have to scare her!” said Veltra.
“And she might fall off the roof,” Detra added gravely.
“You’re right Veltra,” Trill conceded meekly, before turning back to Jesse, “She’ll be scared enough when they start jumping up here after her throat!” Trill leaped at Jesse, making her squeak.
“Trill!” Detra grabbed at one of the elf’s ears, “Be alert, okay?” Just then the first of the wargs appeared over the hill. It looked like a very large wolf, but it was more like the size of a pony. Thick shaggy fur covered its whole body, grey for the most part, but a white stained pink around its face and neck. The setting sun behind it gave it a ghostly appearance, and Trill had been right, its eyes did seem to burn with fire.
“Oh God!” whimpered Jesse. She was sure that leaping onto the roof would be no hard task for this beast. The warg turned its head to the sky and let loose a long, sad, eerie howl, echoing through the surrounding woodlands and valley. Then came the reply, multiple sharp barks, followed by the wargs cresting the hill. There could have been twenty or more, but they moved so fast and Jesse’s heart was beating so rapidly that it was hard to count.
“Now!” Detra cried. A pillar of moving flame spiralled around to burn whichever warg dared come closest, their fur caught fire and they ran, sometimes into other wargs. Trill laughed wildly,
“Run if you can burn!” The other wargs held back, rapidly reconsidering the situation. Veltra focused hard and flung small pebbles around the building. When they touched the ground earth sprung up like a wall. The pillar of fire faded, the roar of the flame disappearing and leaving the barks and growls of the wargs in its wake. Trillinda and Detra jumped down from the building onto the earthen wall Veltra had created, Trill procureed a whip and laced it with fire. A long icy shard protruded from Detra’s wrist. They slashed at the wargs, driving them backwards.
“Oh God!” cried Jesse. Then a chattering noise came from the crest of the hill, a hoard of little green, bumpy figures ran through the trees. Their small swords gleamed in the moonlight, arrows rained down. Veltra pounced on Jesse to get her head down, Detra and Trill turned to jump behind the earthen walls.
“Ah!” cried Detra, grasping her shoulder where an arrow had struck her. With her back against the wall, Trill blew into her closed fist and with a gleeful expression flung the contents of her hand over the wall. A shower of sparks ignited as they passed over the top. Most of the wargs were already running, but Trill’s summoned shower of embers made sure. Many of the airborne arrows burned in the process. They combusted in the air or smouldered in the dirt. The brighter goblins also decided to run at this point, but those that didn’t found the ground sinking beneath them, and pockets of earth erupting beneath their feet. When only dead goblins and wargs remained, Veltra and Jesse climbed down.
“I really don’t think I’m in Melbourne anymore,” said Jesse.
“They shouldn’t be back for a while,” said Trillinda, her eyes turned to the direction of the fleeing creatures. Only the tiniest flame still flickered at her fingertips. Veltra was examining Detra’s shoulder.
“Your wound isn’t that bad Detra,” said Veltra clinically.
“That’s easy for you to say, you don’t have an arrow sticking out from your shoulder. Why don’t I put one in for you and see how you like it?” barked Detra
“No need to get snappy. Go inside, let’s patch you up.”
The horses were still safely inside, and Jesse got a close look at them for the first time. The largest of the three was Blizzard, Veltra’s horse. He was a huge grey gelding but proved to actually be very gentle. Trill’s stallion, Storm, was his opposite; black, smaller, and positively angry, for no clear reason. He pawed the ground periodically in frustration. Eclipse was Detra’s horse, a sandy coloured mare with a silky black mane, and a glitter in his eye that Jesse didn’t trust, even in a horse. Eclipse was immediately by Detra’s side, sniffing the arrow; Veltra pushed her away quickly so that he wouldn’t do any extra damage and sat Detra down by the fire. She handed Detra a cup with something in it. Trill led the horses outside, one by one.
“For pain,” Veltra assured her. Detra swallowed it quickly, and pulled a face.
“Can’t you ever cook up something that tastes better that that? Now my mouth hurts,” Detra snarled, one hand at the base of the arrow.
“Would you rather have nothing at all?” Detra held her tongue, but Jesse saw her roll her eyes.
“You’re always tetchy when something goes wrong,” remarked Trill as she took Blizzard outside.
“You’d be ‘tetchy’ too if you had an arrow in you!” Detra yelled after her. Veltra took out a clean white cloth from the chest beside one of the beds and snapped off the feathery end on the arrow. Detra flinched.
“Oh come on, it shouldn’t hurt after that broth.”
“Maybe you’re losing your touch,” Detra growled.
“Are you alright?” Jesse asked, half to know, half to distract Detra from what Veltra was about to do.
“What sort of daft question is that?” Trill sneered.
“I will be Jesse, after …Ah!” Veltra plucked the arrow shaft out of Detra’s shoulder, blood poured afresh. Veltra pressed the cloth into the wound and began to focus. Her pupils dilated as her hand lightly touched Detra’s wound. A brown-orange light surrounded her fingers and drifted into Detra’s slowly bleeding wound. The blood began to clot and the bleeding stopped. Jesse watched in fascination as new red flesh grew from the edges of the wound to fill the gap. It contracted the wound, pulling the edges closer together and lightened to a pale pink colour.
“It’s scarred,” said Veltra, assessing her work, “But you’ll be alright.” She began to wrap the cloth around Detra’s shoulder.
“Rest now and don’t stretch it.”
“Does this happen often?” Jesse wondered.
“More than we’d like,” Veltra admitted. |
But apart from that, a wonderful piece of work. I'd love to hear more!
EDIT: As for your questions, I've given a brief summary of each
Characters: I'm really engaged with all of them. Jesse seems to act a bit thick, but she is in a new world anyway. She seems quite scared, of anything, but someone who I can relate to. Detra seems like a like able character also, one who is with standing and hardy, but also has a kind and sweet heart. She makes me feel... safe, in a way. Now to Veltra, she is possibly more kind than Detra, seems quite 'motherly' in a way. She helped Jesse, and I think that is kind. Then there is Trill, who is my kind of adventurous girl, she's devious, maybe hiding some thing. But on the other hand she will stand up for her friends. She makes me feel that I cant trust her, but in a humourous sort of way.
Scenery: I'm guessing it starts in Melbourne, Australia, but I'd suggest that there aren't as many back alleys. You've got the coffee shops spot on, but I'd suggest that the shops are retro looking and some are Italian. When she goes into the other world I was thinking a little like Robin Hood Scenery, with a setting of one of those large green hills that the wargs attack from, maybe in the dying sunlight? The homes seems welcoming little house, maybe made out of the earth?
Love the story, I'd like to hear more! |
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Ferox
Joined: 27 May 2009
Posts: 694
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| Posted: Sat Oct 10, 2009 10:49 pm Post subject: |
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Thank you guys so much for reading. Finding people who will actually read and be helpful is quite difficult, and I do appreciate your time.
I've tried to take on board your suggestions, and I find your perceptions quite interesting. Particularly when Alabama said Detra seems to fade into the background, because other people have told me that it's Veltra they think fades away. Its only one chapter and true representations of characters are hard to get across very quickly, particularly if they are keeping secrets, but I'm pretty happy that you can see at least some of what I'm trying to get across.
I've tried to fix what I saw as the bigger issues, speech patterns I will have to think about a bit more. Most of the talking in that chapter is from Detra and Veltra, who are both educated. Perhaps it will develop as it goes along, I will keep it in mind.
And Choco- there are lots of alleys between the university buildings. Its full of nooks and courtyards on the east side.
For neatness I edited the first chapter and prologue above, and will post the next chapter in my next post. Expect some SB cash guys. |
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Ferox
Joined: 27 May 2009
Posts: 694
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| Posted: Sat Oct 10, 2009 11:09 pm Post subject: |
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Chapter 2.
I'm not sure if I should keep Detra's thoughts in there, or remove them and replace them with something else. There are a few bits that don't quite read smoothly to me, but I'm not sure how to fix them. As always, spelling errors, descriptions, characterization, anything confusing etc is helpful. Hope you're still enjoying it.
| Quote: | Patterns Emerge
The sun rose slowly over the hills, as though it too resented being roused so early. The air was damp with freshly laid dew that covered the grass and evidence of the previous night’s scuffle like icing.
“Leave her at town,” said Trill. “She’ll only get in the way. You saw what she was like last night.” She, Detra and Veltra were quietly discussing what to do with Jesse. She was bundled up in blankets by the fire, still deep in sleep. Detra and Veltra were considering the situation from their beds, Trill was lounging in her hammock.
“We can’t leave her Trill,” replied Detra fiddling with the bandage on her shoulder. “She’s our responsibility now. We can’t dump her somewhere. You know what it’s like being an outcast, and we can guess what will happen to her. Remember Stae?”
“I remember,” said Veltra, twisting a lock of her hair absent mindedly, “She died of the falling sickness. Her profession certainly didn’t help. As she is, Jesse is naive and helpless. We can’t leave her, especially not in a large city that will take advantage of her. And you, stop fiddling with that bandage.” Detra folded her hands guiltily.
“I know, but she’s totally useless,” protested Trill, gazing over to the sleeping form of Jesse, who was snoring softly. “I mean it’s not like she can do anything else, and it is the job of choice for talentless but not unattractive ladies…”
“You have your faults, as do we all,” retorted Veltra. “And I’m sure you could get a job like that too, there would be more than enough employment opportunities for an exotic blonde...” Veltra slapped Detra’s hand away from her wound again.
“Fine!” snapped Trill defensively, “But she pulls her fair share of work.”
“Of course,” smiled Detra.
“Is she magical?” wondered Trill.
“She wouldn’t know even if she was. Magic is not used in her world. But if there’s even the smallest spark in her, Veltra can find it, can’t you?” checked Detra.
“And even if it doesn’t work, our own ability should be more than enough to cover for her,” Veltra mused. “At least until she’s sorted something out. Coming through a wyrmhole like that, assuming she truly did, could mess her aura about quite a lot.”
“I think this one would be hard to mess up more than she already is,” muttered Trill. From the other side of the room, Jesse rolled over in her sleep.
“One more thing,” said Veltra with an air of conspiracy as she gazed at Jesse’s sleeping form, “Do any of you remember the myth of other world blood?”
“No,” mused Trill, “I recall myths about eating crusts, washing with urine, the full moon, the new moon, and half moon, black cats, white dogs, kissing frogs, oddly shaped vegetables and unicorn hair, among other things, but not blood from other worlds.”
“Supposedly it is that which is missing,” whispered Veltra as she gazed at Jesse. “It slays those who lack mortality, and cures those who lack vitality. It can melt through metal and flesh but open doors where there are none. There are so many stories that you’d believe it can be utilised for anything. Quite a commodity, but I think it best if it stays inside our new friend for now.”
“That could be useful,” considered Trill. “I wonder of it can give people common sense?” Trill paused, deep in thought for a moment. “Hang on. What about, you know, that time of the month? And the melting through flesh part?”
“Yes, I can see how it could cause a problem, but I’m sure Jesse will cope,” shrugged Veltra. “There’s probably some exception in the mythology. The other well documented other worlder’s have all been male.”
“We might want to keep this little secret under our cloaks,” suggested Detra.
“The monthly thing?” checked Trill.
“No, the rest of it,” explained Detra tiredly.
“So, how does this work exactly?” Jesse asked. Veltra had prepared a clearing behind the shack for the ritual. As octagon had been drawn on the grass with sand, and within it was two overlapping squares that created an eight-sided star. In the corners of one square was a flickering flame, a mound of dirt, a bowl of water and an empty vial.
“You need a chance to ignore your physical body in order to discover what lurks within your non-physical body. That’s what all this is for,” Veltra explained, gesturing around them. “When you lay at the centre of the pattern you become a focus point for all the energies surrounding you, the strongest one of which will be your own. That’s what you’re looking for.”
“It’s not so bad,” Detra assured her, “it sounds confusing, but if it’s going work you’ve just got to do what’s natural for you. If it’s not there, then it’s not there.”
“And why are all three of you fully armed?” Jesse demanded suspiciously. Veltra and Trill both turned to Detra.
“To protect you of course,” Detra explained. “You’re not going to be in any state to protect yourself.
“So why do you all look so nervous?” insisted Jesse.
“Look, it’s complicated,” admitted Detra, “We’re a little bit worried that letting you do this may open up a hole back to wherever it is you came from, or even somewhere else entirely. We just want to be prepared.”
“So if I walk into the centre of those squares I could go home?”
“Or you might explode,” offered Trill with an air of helpfulness. Jesse looked concerned.
“But you probably won’t explode,” Detra assured her, giving Trill a disapproving look. “That tends not to happen.”
“So what does tend to happen?” asked Jesse, not entirely sure how she felt about the whole business.
“You eat this,” explained Veltra as she lifted up a bowl filled with a paste of porridge-like consistency, “And then you lie down in the centre to focus your mind. There will be one aspect which calls to you, and somehow you have to make that aspect yours. Somehow you must learn to take control and use it.” Jesse nodded. That seemed simple enough, although it didn’t really explain how it worked at all. She took the bowl from Veltra.
“But what will I see? Or feel? Or whatever it is.” Jesse looked questioningly at Detra, who shrugged.
“I don’t know Jesse. I’ve never done it myself,” Detra admitted. “Magic doesn’t work that way for me.”
“And I was too young to remember,” offered Trill.
“What happens,” explained Veltra as she led Jesse to the centre of the squares, “Is that you look inwards with your mind and learn to see the patterns that make nature. They’re everywhere, and control everything in gentle ways, always trying to return to default. Some people see these patterns as shapes, or numbers, or symbols. Some even see it as music. Then, once you’ve found your aspect, your focus, you can then learn to insert that into the patterns you see around you. You can take that part of yourself and manipulate the world. That, Jesse, is magic.” Veltra knelt with Jesse in the middle of the squares.
“So I will see what the world is made of?”
“More like how the world creates itself. Now eat.” Jesse lifted the bowl to her face and paused.
“Don’t I get a spoon?”
“No. Just eat. Use your fingers if you must.” Gingerly Jesse used her fingers to scoop a mouthful of the thick paste into her mouth. It was warm but tasteless. Jesse ate another scoop.
“It will make you feel heavy,” Veltra warned her, “Just eat as much as you can then lie down.” Jesse managed a few more mouthfuls before she began to feel full and handed back the bowl. She lay down on her back and waited for something amazing to happen.
“How long does this take?” Jesse asked.
“Just a few minutes,” Veltra assured her as she walked out of the squares. Jesse lay there staring up at the clouds, waiting impatiently.
“Is it happening yet?” Trill called from the sidelines. Jesse went to reply, but found herself unable to. She couldn’t talk, couldn’t move, couldn’t blink. She wasn’t entirely sure if she was still breathing. She couldn’t actually feel her body any more, and all she could see was the sky. She should have panicked then, not knowing where her body was, but instead felt surprisingly calm as the clouds drifted slowly across her vision and began to change shapes.
“It’s taking a jolly long time, isn’t it?” said Trill as the three of them kept watch over Jesse’s still body. “I don’t remember it taking a long time when I went through this.”
“Your parents were probably glad for a few moments of peace and quiet,” muttered Detra.
“It is taking a long time,” Veltra admitted, “But I did think she could be a complicated one. Something must be happening for her.” On the far side of the squares, the flame went out.
“Hey, should I fix that?” asked Trill.
“No.” Veltra shook her head. “Don’t interfere with it. She’s focusing. It looks like she’s not a fire mage.”
“Good, one’s more than enough,” Detra muttered. Trill poked out her tongue. They continued to watch as the bowl of water began to rock from side to side.
“You don’t think anything bad is going to happen, do you?” Detra asked.
“No,” Veltra admitted, “But I knew she was going to be unusual.”
“Then you two can do something else then and I’ll keep an eye on her until she’s conscious,” Detra offered, “If you like.”
“Sounds good,” agreed Trill, “I’ve got better things to do than watch Jesse sleep all day.”
“Why are you offering?” wondered Veltra.
“It lets you be more productive. I found her, so that almost makes Jesse my responsibility.”
“Fine. We’ll leave you alone then,” agreed Veltra. “But we’ll come back to check on you. Don’t wake her up until she’s ready.”
“Of course,” Detra promised as Veltra and Trill wandered away.
Jesse wasn’t completely sure what was happening, but she didn’t mind. The world had transformed into a swirl of colours, but if she tried she could still just make out the real world, the one she was used to, behind the shifting hues.
It had been almost another hour and Jesse still showed no sign of stirring. Detra fiddled with the small glass vial in her palm. The thought of other world blood, and the price it might fetch from the right person, was tempting. On the other hand, if we take care of Jesse then she’ll carry her own blood about, she mused. She had better wake up soon.
The world kept shifting for Jesse. What had started as colours had turned into shapes, which then morphed into words and numbers. Now the symbols were shifting, breaking apart and reforming themselves into HTML and Javascript. She could read it all as second nature, and it filled her with a sense of awe that the world around her could be co complex and yet all encoded.
Jesse blinked and looked at the sky above her as feeling and control returned to her body. She felt heavy, as though her physical body was now a burden. Slowly she rolled over to see only Detra waiting for her.
“Are you awake now Jesse?”
“I think so… I can’t see the code anymore.” Detra walked over and helped Jesse to her feet.
“Could you understand what you saw?”
“Oh definitely. That’s actually easy. I speak three languages, I understand mathematics and the coding languages are what I do for a living. But I don’t understand what aspect I was supposed to find.”
“Don’t worry,” Detra reassured her, “I saw that. You extinguished the flame, broke the bowl of water and the mound of dirt went ‘poof’. Nothing materialised, so your aspect is Air, but we’ll explain that later. Come on, inside.”
Veltra had managed to cook up a heart-warming soup when Detra and Jesse came inside. It smelled good and Jesse began to salivate.
“How are you feeling?” Veltra asked her.
“Hungry. Really, really hungry,” Jesse replied emphatically.
“Isn’t it nice then that I made soup? Sit at the table please.” Jesse walked over to the table where Trill was idly shifting through parchments that were spread there. Jesse gave them no more than a passing glance while she waited eagerly for her soup.
“Do you know what these are?” Trill asked her, gesturing to a piece of parchment with two squares overlaid on it to produce an eight-sided star, similar to the one she had sat in before. There were a collection of symbols drawn at the points of the star.
“No, no idea,” Jesse admitted.
“This star represents the aspects of magic, and how they relate to each other,” Trill explained. “There are the four elementary aspects; fire, air, water and earth, in the major square. Then the secondary aspects make up the minor square; lightning, thoughts, life and death. They are always arranged so that fire is opposite water, air is opposite earth, lightning is between fire and air, thought is between air and water, life is between water and earth and death is between earth and fire. Like in the picture.” Jesse studied the parchment with mild interest.
“And why is it important?” she asked.
“Because in general everyone has one dominant aspect,” Veltra explained as she brought the soup, “That is where your strength lies, and to a lesser degree with the aspects on either side of your dominant one. Those furthest away from your dominant aspect are essentially blocked from you.”
“Unless you’re something complicated like me,” added Detra from the doorway.
“What’s so complicated about you?”
“We’ll get to that later.” Detra assured her, “In any case, you rejected fire, water and earth. So your dominant aspect is probably air. Potentially with minor influences of lightning or thoughts.”
“Now all you have to learn is how to manipulate whatever sort of pattern it was you could see,” continued Veltra, “And that’s what all this reading material is for.”
“And why is Detra so complicated?” asked Jesse.
“Because she likes to be,” muttered Trill.
“Because I’m a Driasur. I take the remnants of the magic of those that have passed and ask them to work for me. You see, when you die there are bits left behind. The bit of you that is magical is what’s known as a spirit. I can see them as a smudge in the patterns, that’s how I find them. I was searching for some when I found you, and you appeared to be a smudge in the patterns around you.”
“Is that why you tried to shove me into a bottle?”
“Yes,” Detra admitted, “Spirits still have some personality and not all are agreeable. Storage in jars lets me capture them without needing to negotiate or tame them instantly. I can also pass them on if they’re not compatible.”
“You tried to shove Jesse into a bottle?” asked Trill. “When did you realise she wouldn’t fit?”
“So a Driasur is different in how they gain their magic?”
“Yes, but also in how we use it. Potentially we can use magic in any aspect, even that opposite our dominant one. It’s just a lot harder to do so. For example, although my dominant aspect is water, I can still conjure a flame.”
“It makes her more versatile, but she can’t learn just by her own enlightenment. There’s a certain level of diplomacy involved,” Veltra summarised. Jesse nodded.
“And now, you have some reading to do. I assume you can read? Good. We’re going for a little journey tomorrow morning, so make sure you’re ready.”
“Can you tell me where we’re going yet?” asked Jesse. She was sitting on the back of Blizzard behind Veltra. She didn’t like being on a horse at all, let alone such a big one, but fancied her chances more than on Storm. Trill had been almost bursting with excitement all day.
“To town! We’re going shopping!” declared Trill gleefully. “We said we’d catch up with Najinga next time we were around too. Let’s go already! Come on! Lets go!” Compared to how clinically vicious and mean Trill had seemed before, her chirpiness was a vast contrast. Jesse chose not to say anything, just in case Trill had some sort of bi-polar disorder. Detra had left at dawn, explaining that she would use the opportunity to search for any spirits without three other, noisy people around. Veltra had explained that Detra occasionally needed some solitude.
“Who’s Najinga?” Jesse asked.
“A friend of ours,” Veltra explained. “She’s a little more socially functional and spends her time in town. I once spent a lot of my time working with her.”
“Oh? What did you do?”
“I can concoct an excellent cure for hangovers whilst Najinga brews a mean moonshine.”
“Ah,” Jesse, like most college students, understood. They emerged from a patch of woodland at the top a hill to find a spectacular view. The hills they were on rolled slowly down towards a valley with a river fed by the dozens of brooks formed higher up the slopes. The light green of the grass on the hills was broken by irregular patches of darker green woodland and on some of the closer hills Jesse thought she could see white creatures grazing. At the bottom of the valley lay the sprawl of a town, spreading out on the flatter land like mould between tiles.
“Shepherd’s Lake,” Veltra whispered. “It’s not home, but it’s friendly enough.”
“It looks,” Jesse considered her choice of words carefully, “Small.”
“It is, rather,” Veltra agreed, “But it’s large enough to get you some different clothes at least.”
“Hey! What’s wrong with my clothes?”
“What’s right about them?” Trill joked as she encouraged Storm to scout further ahead.
“At least mine don’t have scorch marks!” Jesse shouted after her. A plume of flame erupted ahead as Trill turned back to face her.
“Want some?” Jesse quickly decided that silence was the better option. As they rode along the grassy track, Jesse was forced to conclude that she wasn’t a very good rider. Her bottom was getting a beating when the horses did anything other than a gentle walk, and it was only when they slowed to give the horses a chance to rest that she was able to stop clinging on for dear life and start considering the situation. She was trying to decide what to do with herself until she got home. She would have to trust these people for now, though she found them oddly familiar. It was strange but meeting them had felt like running into distant cousins at the super market. They were strangers, and they were strange, but they weren’t totally alien. She didn’t have many belongings here. The few things she did have with her weren’t things for survival. She hadn’t been prepared for the dragon, she had been prepared for coffee with friends. It wasn’t that long ago that she had been holding Kat’s books for her while she had rushed back into the physics building at the university for her lab coat. Then the dragon had happened. That had left Jesse with Kat’s physics and chemistry books, plus her own coding homework. Jesse realised that the degree of knowledge contained within those books could be put to great use, if she could just understand it and how it worked. The coffee voucher on the other hand was unlikely to be helpful.
As twilight crept into the world, the three spotted Detra at a camp in a clearing overlooking the town. Shepherd’s Lake had built itself around the low, wide part of the valley where the brooks of the hills had converged to make one river, which then slowed and widened to create a lake before flowing on. Eclipse was grazing nearby the camp tethered to a stump. Detra was carving a lump of wood and there was food by the fire sizzling deliciously. Veltra Jesse and Trill led the horses to join Eclipse before siting around the fire.
“What’cha carving?” Trill demanded of Detra, who hadn’t even lifted her head to greet them. “Is it a present for my birthday?”
“It’s Trill’s birthday?” asked Jesse.
“Only when she wants something,” whispered Veltra.
“No,” replied Detra. “It’s going to be a pendant. Have a look.” Detra handed the partly carved wood over for Trill to inspect. Jesse peered at Detra’s work. The wood was a pale gold, darker in some spots and lighter in others. One area seemed to have a reddish tinge. Overall it reminded Jesse of her parquet floor.
“You’re not very good at carving,” noted Trill. She turned the wood over in her hands, inspecting it with mild curiosity.
“Oh? Well if you don’t think so, put it in the fire.” Trill turned to face Detra.
“Really? I can burn it?” Trill’s face lit up like a child in a candy store. Somehow Trill’s look of glee accentuated by the flickering fire light made Jesse feel uneasy.
“Just you try.” Detra waved casually at the fire.
“Ok.” Trill tossed the pendant into the campfire before any second thoughts. “Seems a pity to burn it when you’ve put so much effort into it.”
“Think nothing of it Trill,” dismissed Detra, waving her hand.
“She never does,” commented Veltra. She balanced on one leg and began to remove her boots, dislodging dirt from them. Jesse sat by the fire and stretched her toes.
“So, how was the trip up?” asked Detra.
“Uneventful,” Veltra replied.
“Jesse’s an awful rider,” commented Trill. She sat down opposite Detra and began to comb through her long hair with her fingers. “It was utterly painful to watch.”
“Hey!” protested Jesse. “I’m not that bad for a first timer!”
“Oh yes you are,” Trill insisted, “I’ve seen many a rider who didn’t deserve their horse, but you’re the worst. How’s the grub Detra?” Detra poked the food with a long stick.
“It’s cooking well,” she decided.
“Is that where we’re going tomorrow?” Jesse asked, pointing to the town. On one side of the town’s bridge the stockyards and marketplace could be seen from where they camped. Smaller, dark bricked buildings filled the rest of the space and lights inside lit up like little patches of the night sky as the sun set.
“Yes,” Detra gazed at the city’s lights. “We’ll enter tomorrow. No point paying for board when we don’t have to.”
“You know Najinga would probably put us up for free,” said Trill. “You know, if you’d rather not camp in the open on the hills.”
“The wood’s not burning,” noted Veltra. Her freckled face was set in a look of utmost suspicion.
“What?” blurted Trill, surprised and disappointed. Veltra used a stick to manipulate the partially carved pendant out of the fire. It wasn’t burnt at all. Veltra ran her hands up and down the wood, then glanced at Detra accusingly. Detra was grinning broadly
“Is this really…” started Veltra.
“Yes,” nodded Detra.
“Really?”
“Yes!”
“Where did you steal it from?” Detra looked hurt at the suggestion.
“I’m insulted! I only found it!”
“And who did it belong to at the time?” Veltra glared sternly at Detra and strongly reminded Jesse of primary school teachers who already knew who the culprit was, but just wanted an honest confession.
“I tell you I didn’t steal it!” Detra insisted. She glared back at Veltra with the intensity of a naughty schoolchild that genuinely didn’t do it this time, however unlikely.
“What is it?” asked Jesse.
“It’s not burning, that’s what it is,” pouted Trill. She folded her arms over her chest and sulked at the flames.
“That’s because it’s special,” said Detra quietly, but with a touch of pride.
“It’s Spiritwood, isn’t it?” asked Veltra.
“Yes. A nice piece too,” confirmed Detra, collecting her half-carved pendant from the ground and placing it in a pouch at her belt. The stones in her wristband glowed slightly brighter.
“How did you find it?”
“My spirits did. I just followed them and they led me to this. It was all by itself near nothing special.” Detra was stroking the stones around her wrist absent mindedly and as Jesse stared at them she thought for a moment that something stared back. Then again, it may have just been the shifting lights of the fire.
“What’s Spiritwood?” asked Jesse.
“It’s a rare type of wood that doesn’t burn,” explained Veltra.
“Obviously,” Trill rolled her eyes. Veltra continued,
“It allows a Driarsur like Detra greater range and influence over her spirits. A Driarsur with Spiritwood is much more powerful than one without. Nobody really knows what sort of tree it comes from, it’s only ever found just as dead wood.”
“So, is the food ready yet?” asked Trill to break the silence and ignore the troublesome fact that something would not burn.
“What is for dinner?” asked Jesse. Detra’s new wood didn’t interest her particularly.
“Venison soup and burnt potatoes,” replied Detra. “Then it’s the first watch.”
“I’ll take the first watch,” offered Veltra.
“How long is a watch?” asked Jesse.
“About three hours,” replied Detra. Jesse glanced at her own watch, a snazzy analogue she had been given for her birthday. It was only 6 o’clock.
“Gee, it’s early,” she commented.
“No it’s not,” argued Trill. “If you think it’s early, you can have an extra watch!”
“I’m taking a watch?”
“Of course!” snapped Trill angrily. “There’s no passengers on this trip!”
Jesse was sure she had only blinked when her head touched the pillow before Trill woke her, a little more grumpily than was necessary. The world had grown dark and even the lights of Shepherd’s Lake were little brighter than the stars above them.
“It’s your turn,” growled Trill. “Don’t let anyone into the camp. If the horses act strange, wake one of us. Preferably Detra.”
“Need your beauty sleep, eh?” Jesse joked.
“No, I need my ‘don’t burn annoying people to a crisp’ sleep,” Trill warned and crawled under her blankets.
“Um…” started Jesse, but Trill made a very loud, clearly fake and unarguable snore.
“Okay,” said Jesse, the threat of being burnt alive still lingering. The camp fire had burnt so low that the embers gave of little more light than her alarm clock had at home. Jesse glanced at her watch.
“Quarter past eleven? It’s only quarter past eleven! It’s not that late or early!”
“Jesse, shut up so those not on watch can sleep,” growled Trill.
“A watch is supposed to be three hours. You cut your watch short didn’t you? That’s not fair!” Trill faked another snore.
“Well fine, be that way.”
Jesse watched the moon drift across the sky and make haunting shapes with the clouds. She watched the hands of her watch run in circles for two hours. She watched frost grow tiny white crystals on the ground and shivered quietly. All she could think about were the comforts of her home and her old friends, and whatever might be on the television right now. She didn’t notice the horses pricking their ears at the darkness or the slight movements of the shadows in the corner of her vision.
“Hello.” Jesse jumped. If he hadn’t spoken she wouldn’t have seen him at all. He was standing only a few steps away, shrouded mostly in a grey woollen cloak. Most of his features were obscured by his hood, but his voice was deep and although quiet, sinister.
“What are you doing here,” Jesse breathed. Her heart pounded in her chest.
“Why, we’re just wandering,” he replied, stepping closer. “Wandering minstrels us.” Jesse looked beyond him and thought she could see two or three more people lurking.
“And you, my dear,” he continued, “What are you and your friends doing out here, so isolated and unprotected?
“What should it matter?” said Jesse quickly.
“It is an honest question.”
“And it’s honestly not your business!”
“Ah,” he said, taking another step, “But there are many dangers out here you know. Young women should not be unprotected.”
“Could you possibly go away?” asked Jesse, suspecting that one of the many dangers alluded to was creeping ever closer.
“No,” the man whispered, “Don’t move!” Jesse paused, arm outstretched towards the slumbering Trill. He had drawn a sword.
“We don’t want anyone waking up, now do we?” The blade reflected the scant silver light of the moon along its sharp edges, which were chipped from use.
“Yes I do!” Jesse said. The man frowned.
“Don’t get smart with me. Sit back down.” Jesse did so, her eyes on the sword.
“Now you just stay there,” he whispered. He motioned to the other men behind him to come forward. Jesse’s mind raced. She had to do something, but didn’t dare risk sudden movements. Her bag was in reach and without taking her eyes off the glittering sword she slowly reached behind her to rummage through the bag. I need noise, she thought. Lots of noise. A green mist flashed across her vision as she blinked with a flash of letters and code. Her fingers brushed against the wheel of her iPod and the drums of ‘Down Under’ began to play, amplified greatly from its tiny speakers. The men hesitated. The horses whinnied. Trill bolted upright and a plume of flame attacked the heavens.
“Stop that noise!” she screamed, clutching her ears. Jesse scrambled upright and the noise lessened.
“You have only seconds to explain yourselves,” said Detra. She had woken quickly and although she was still sitting and half covered in blankets there were four icy spikes hovering in the air around her, spinning slowly. She reached for her bow beside her. Veltra had thrown off her blankets and crouched with crossbow in one hand, bottle in the other. Trill stood up, looking fiercely determined to take her anger out on someone.
“Please forgive the intrusion,” said the man, his sword swiftly hidden beneath his cloak once more. “We are just wandering musicians, hoping to share a camp tonight. It’s such a long way to travel on foot and in the dark.”
“Don’t trust them Detra!” hissed Jesse. Detra shook her head sadly and sighed.
“She’s not that dumb, Jesse,” Veltra whispered.
“Play us a song!” Trill yelled. Tiny flares of fire sparked at her fingertips.
“What?” said the man.
“I said play us a song!” He looked around at his cohort.
“Us? Now?”
“Yes,” said Trill, “I reckon you couldn’t play a song if your life depended on it!” Detra laughed.
“Which is funny, because right now, it does.” The man took a step backwards. Trill threw a plume of fire at him, narrowly missing his left shoulder as he leapt back.
“Didn’t think so!” she yelled. The men, Jesse could easily count four of them now, each pulled swords out from their cloaks and rallied together.
“No,” said Detra and with a wave of her hand the hovering spikes of ice raced towards them. They reacted and struck at them with their blades, frosting up on contact. One yelped and dropped his sword. The one who spoke initially raised his hands, an arc of electricity streaking between one hand and the tip of his sword. Veltra frantically opened her bottle, releasing a cloud of white sand that rushed out to fill the air between the two groups. At the same time the arc of electricity sped towards them, but dissipated in the cloud of sand with a loud clap.
“Pull back!” Jesse heard one of the men shout. The cloud of sand continued to billow for several minutes until Detra signalled to Veltra. She opened the bottle again and the sand drifted neatly inside. The men were gone.
“I think they’ve found business elsewhere,” said Detra.
“Yeah! We kicked their arses!” declared Jesse, punching the air.
“Ahem,” Trill coughed, “We touched no such unspeakable place!”
“It’s a figure of speech.” Jesse explained.
“I’m just glad they didn’t put up a fight,” said Veltra.
“Yes, I would have hated to get out of bed,” muttered Detra. “You okay Jesse?”
“I could be worse. I’m sorry,” Jesse apologised for her incompetence, “I didn’t see them.”
“It doesn’t matter Jesse, I’m alive, Trill’s alive, Veltra’s alive, and you’re alive. Nothing’s wrong that can’t be mended. I’ll keep watch from here, you sleep.”
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ChocolateGal
Joined: 29 Jul 2007
Posts: 1868
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| Posted: Wed Nov 04, 2009 1:58 am Post subject: |
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| Okay, I've read it, but I'll have to post later! Lovin' it! |
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Alabama
Site Admin
Joined: 13 Aug 2008
Posts: 383
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| Posted: Mon Nov 09, 2009 1:51 pm Post subject: |
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Getting better! I think Jesse's thoughts fit well, so I would leave them.
There needs to be a transition between the three discussing Jesse and the event. Maybe something like: Some time later, after breaking fast they head outside where the clearing is readied... But with more description. Also between after the magic circle and the next morning. Or at least indicate it is the next morning. Had to read twice to understand that is was the next morning.
I would like to see some break up of the conversations. Most of the paragraphs seem to start with quotation marks. Try doing a description first on some, then what they say and breaking up what they're saying with description like you did in the first section. Might also help with some of the rough patches.
Grammar,etc:
... An octagon had been drawn on the grass with sand..
...When you lay at the center ...
...walk into the center of those squares I could go home?”...
... she led Jesse to the center of the squares...
... lightening is between fire and air, thought is ...
...“Because, in general, everyone has one ...
...land like mould (I'm not sure if you mean mould, like decorative moulding, mold as in mildew or algae or grout, the mortar between floor tiles) between tiles...
“At least mine don’t have scorch marks!” Jesse shouted after her. A plume of flame erupted ahead as Trill turned back to face her, “Want some?” (Started a new paragraph so readers know Trill says this)
Jesse quickly decided...
...Jesse realized that the degree of knowledge ...
...Veltra, Jesse and Trill led the horses to join ...
...shrouded mostly in a grey woolen cloak. Most of his...
...sand continued to billow for several minutes until Detra signaled to Veltra. ...
...I’m sorry,” Jesse apologized for her incompetence,... |
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ChocolateGal
Joined: 29 Jul 2007
Posts: 1868
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| Posted: Wed Nov 11, 2009 4:40 am Post subject: |
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I'm guessing that Ferox is Australian, so signaled, realized, apologized and woolen are all American originated spellings, we spell them how Ferox spelt them.
I'll upload my comments on the weekend. |
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Alabama
Site Admin
Joined: 13 Aug 2008
Posts: 383
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| Posted: Wed Nov 11, 2009 11:00 pm Post subject: |
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| ChocolateGal wrote: | I'm guessing that Ferox is Australian, so signaled, realized, apologized and woolen are all American originated spellings, we spell them how Ferox spelt them.
I'll upload my comments on the weekend. |
LOL Didn't even think about that, though someone had a messed up spell checker. I'll remember in the future. Silly Aussies, guess since you live upside down, some exception needs to be made. |
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ChocolateGal
Joined: 29 Jul 2007
Posts: 1868
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| Posted: Thu Nov 12, 2009 3:30 am Post subject: |
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Hahaha! Lol, we are slightly crazy!
Anyways, here's my view on things.
Patterns Emerge
The sun rose slowly over the hills, as though it too resented being roused so early. The air was damp with freshly laid dew that covered the grass and evidence of the previous night’s scuffle like icing.
“Leave her at town,” said Trill. “She’ll only get in the way. You saw what she was like last night.” She, Detra and Veltra were quietly discussing what to do with Jesse. She was bundled up in blankets by the fire, still deep asleep. Detra and Veltra were considering the situation from their beds, Trill was lounging in her hammock.
“We can’t leave her Trill,” replied Detra fiddling with the bandage on her shoulder. “She’s our responsibility now. We can’t dump her somewhere. You know what it’s like being an outcast, and we can guess what will happen to her. Remember Stae?”
“I remember,” said Veltra, twisting a lock of her hair absent mindedly, “She died of the falling sickness. Her profession certainly didn’t help. As she is, Jesse is naive and helpless. We can’t leave her, especially not in a large city that will take advantage of her. And you (perhaps Detra??), stop fiddling with that bandage.” Detra folded her hands guiltily.
“I know, but she’s totally useless,” protested Trill, gazing over to the sleeping form of Jesse, who was snoring softly. “I mean it’s not like she can do anything else, and it is the job of choice for talentless but not unattractive ladies…”
“You have your faults, as do we all,” retorted Veltra. “And I’m sure you could get a job like that too, there would be more than enough employment opportunities for an exotic blonde...” Veltra slapped Detra’s hand away from her wound again.
“Fine!” snapped Trill defensively, “But she has to pull her fair share of work.”
“Of course,” smiled Detra.
“Is she magical?” wondered Trill.
“She wouldn’t know even if she was. Magic is not used in her world. But if there’s even the smallest spark in her, Veltra can find it, can’t you?” checked Detra.
“And even if it doesn’t work, our own ability should be more than enough to cover for her,” Veltra mused. “At least until she’s sorted something out. Coming through a wyrmhole like that, assuming she truly did, could mess her aura about quite a lot.”
“I think this one would be hard to mess up more than she already is,” muttered Trill. From the other side of the room, Jesse rolled over in her sleep.
“One more thing,” said Veltra with an air of conspiracy as she gazed at Jesse’s sleeping form, “Do any of you remember the myth of other world blood?”
“No,” mused Trill, “I recall myths about eating crusts, washing with urine, the full moon, the new moon, and half moon, black cats, white dogs, kissing frogs, oddly shaped vegetables and unicorn hair, among other things, but not blood from other worlds.”
“Supposedly it is that which is missing,” whispered Veltra as she gazed at Jesse. “It slays those who lack mortality, and cures those who lack vitality. It can melt through metal and flesh but open doors where there are none. There are so many stories that you’d believe it can be utilised for anything. Quite a commodity, but I think it best if it stays inside our new friend for now.”
“That could be useful,” considered Trill. “I wonder of it can give people common sense?” Trill paused, deep in thought for a moment. “Hang on. What about, you know, that time of the month? And the melting through flesh part?”
“Yes, I can see how it could cause a problem, but I’m sure Jesse will cope,” shrugged Veltra. “There’s probably some exception in the mythology. The other well documented other worlder’s have all been male.”
“We might want to keep this little secret under our cloaks,” suggested Detra.
“The monthly thing?” checked Trill, a grin spreading across her face?
“No, the rest of it,” explained Detra tiredly.
As twilight crept into the world, the three spotted Detra at a camp in a clearing overlooking the town. Shepherd’s Lake had built itself around the low, wide part of the valley where the brooks of the hills had converged to make one river, which then slowed and widened to create a lake before flowing on. Eclipse was grazing nearby the camp tethered to a stump. Detra was carving a lump of wood and there was food by the fire sizzling deliciously. Veltra Jesse and Trill led the horses to join Eclipse before siting around the fire.
“What’cha carving?” Trill demanded of Detra, who hadn’t even lifted her head to greet them. “Is it a present for my birthday?”
“It’s Trill’s birthday?” asked Jesse.
“Only when she wants something,” whispered Veltra.
“No,” replied Detra. “It’s going to be a pendant. Have a look.” Detra handed the partly carved wood over for Trill to inspect. Jesse peered at Detra’s work. The wood was a pale gold, darker in some spots and lighter in others. One area seemed to have a reddish tinge. Overall it reminded Jesse of her parquet floor.
“You’re not very good at carving,” noted Trill. She turned the wood over in her hands, inspecting it with mild curiosity.
“Oh? Well if you don’t think so, put it in the fire.” Trill turned to face Detra.
“Really? I can burn it?” Trill’s face lit up like a child in a candy store. Somehow Trill’s look of glee accentuated by the flickering fire light made Jesse feel uneasy.
“Just you try.” Detra waved casually at the fire.
“Ok.” Trill tossed the pendant into the campfire before any second thoughts. “Seems a pity to burn it when you’ve put so much effort into it.”
“Think nothing of it Trill,” dismissed Detra, waving her hand.
“She never does,” commented Veltra. She balanced on one leg and began to remove her boots, dislodging dirt from them. Jesse sat by the fire and stretched her toes.
“So, how was the trip up?” asked Detra.
“Uneventful,” Veltra replied.
“Jesse’s an awful rider,” commented Trill. She sat down opposite Detra and began to comb through her long hair with her fingers. “It was utterly painful to watch.”
“Hey!” protested Jesse. “I’m not that bad for a first timer!”
“Oh yes you are,” Trill insisted, “I’ve seen many a rider who didn’t deserve their horse, but you’re the worst. How’s the grub Detra?” Detra poked the food with a long stick.
“It’s cooking well,” she decided.
“Is that where we’re going tomorrow?” Jesse asked, pointing to the town. On one side of the town’s bridge the stockyards and marketplace could be seen from where they camped. Smaller, dark bricked buildings filled the rest of the space and lights inside lit up like little patches of the night sky as the sun set.
“Yes,” Detra gazed at the city’s lights. “We’ll enter tomorrow. No point paying for board when we don’t have to.”
“You know Najinga would probably put us up for free,” said Trill. “You know, if you’d rather not camp in the open on the hills.”
“The wood’s not burning,” noted Veltra. Her freckled face was set in a look of utmost suspicion.
“What?” blurted Trill, surprised and disappointed. Veltra used a stick to manipulate the partially carved pendant out of the fire. It wasn’t burnt at all. Veltra ran her hands up and down the wood, and then glanced at Detra accusingly. Detra was grinning broadly
“Is this really…” started Veltra.
“Yes,” nodded Detra.
“Really?”
“Yes!”
“Where did you steal it from?” Detra looked hurt at the suggestion.
“I’m insulted! I only found it!”
“And who did it belong to at the time?” Veltra glared sternly at Detra and strongly reminded Jesse of primary school teachers who already knew who the culprit was, but just wanted an honest confession.
“I tell you I didn’t steal it!” Detra insisted. She glared back at Veltra with the intensity of a naughty schoolchild that genuinely didn’t do it this time, however unlikely.
“What is it?” asked Jesse.
“It’s not burning, that’s what it is,” pouted Trill. She folded her arms over her chest and sulked at the flames.
“That’s because it’s special,” said Detra quietly, but with a touch of pride.
“It’s Spiritwood, isn’t it?” asked Veltra.
“Yes. A nice piece too,” confirmed Detra, collecting her half-carved pendant from the ground and placing it in a pouch at her belt. The stones in her wristband glowed slightly brighter.
“How did you find it?”
“My spirits did. I just followed them and they led me to this. It was all by itself near nothing special.” Detra was stroking the stones around her wrist absent mindedly and as Jesse stared at them she thought for a moment that something stared back. Then again, it may have just been the shifting lights of the fire.
“What’s Spiritwood?” asked Jesse.
“It’s a rare type of wood that doesn’t burn,” explained Veltra.
“Obviously,” Trill rolled her eyes. Veltra continued,
“It allows a Driarsur like Detra greater range and influence over her spirits. A Driarsur with Spiritwood is much more powerful than one without. Nobody really knows what sort of tree it comes from, it’s only ever found just as dead wood.”
“So, is the food ready yet?” asked Trill to break the silence and ignore the troublesome fact that something would not burn.
“What is for dinner?” asked Jesse. Detra’s new wood didn’t interest her particularly.
“Venison soup and burnt potatoes,” replied Detra. “Then it’s the first watch.”
“I’ll take the first watch,” offered Veltra.
“How long is a watch?” asked Jesse.
“About three hours,” replied Detra. Jesse glanced at her own watch, a snazzy analogue she had been given for her birthday. It was only 6 o’clock.
“Gee, it’s early,” she commented.
“No it’s not,” argued Trill. “If you think it’s early, you can have an extra watch!”
“I’m taking a watch?”
“Of course!” snapped Trill angrily. “There’s no passengers on this trip!”
Jesse watched the moon drift across the sky and make haunting shapes with the clouds. She watched the hands of her watch run in circles for two hours. She watched frost grow tiny white crystals on the ground and shivered quietly. All she could think about were the comforts of her home and her old friends, and whatever might be on the television right now. She didn’t notice the horses pricking their ears at the darkness or the slight movements of the shadows in the corner of her vision.
“Hello.” Jesse jumped. If he hadn’t spoken she wouldn’t have seen him at all. He was standing only a few steps away, shrouded mostly in a grey woollen cloak. Most of his features were obscured by his hood, but his voice was deep and although quiet, sinister.
“What are you doing here,” Jesse breathed. Her heart pounded in her chest.
“Why, we’re just wandering,” he replied, stepping closer. “Wandering minstrels us.” Jesse looked beyond him and thought she could see two or three more people lurking.
“And you, my dear,” he continued, “What are you and your friends doing out here, so isolated and unprotected?
“What should it matter?” said Jesse quickly.
“It is an honest question.”
“And it’s honestly not your business!”
“Ah,” he said, taking another step, “But there are many dangers out here you know. Young women should not be unprotected.”
“Could you possibly go away?” asked Jesse, suspecting that one of the many dangers alluded to, was creeping ever closer.
“No,” the man whispered, “Don’t move!” Jesse paused, her arm outstretched towards the slumbering Trill. He had drawn a sword.
“We don’t want anyone waking up, now do we?” The blade reflected the scant silver light of the moon along its sharp edges, which were chipped from use.
“Yes I do!” Jesse said. The man frowned.
“Don’t get smart with me. Sit back down.” Jesse did so, her eyes on the sword.
“Now you just stay there,” he whispered. He motioned to the other men behind him to come forward. Jesse’s mind raced. She had to do something, but didn’t dare risk sudden movements. Her bag was in reach and without taking her eyes off the glittering sword she slowly reached behind her to rummage through the bag. I need noise, she thought. Lots of noise. A green mist flashed across her vision as she blinked with a flash of letters and code. Her fingers brushed against the wheel of her iPod and the drums of ‘Down Under’ began to play, amplified greatly from its tiny speakers. The men hesitated. The horses whinnied. Trill bolted upright and a plume of flame attacked the heavens.
“Stop that noise!” she screamed, clutching her ears. Jesse scrambled upright and the noise lessened.
“You have only seconds to explain yourselves,” said Detra. She had woken quickly and although she was still sitting and half covered in blankets there were four icy spikes hovering in the air around her, spinning slowly. She reached for her bow beside her. Veltra had thrown off her blankets and crouched with crossbow in one hand, bottle in the other. Trill stood up, looking fiercely determined to take her anger out on someone.
“Please forgive the intrusion,” said the man, his sword swiftly hidden beneath his cloak once more. “We are just wandering musicians, hoping to share a camp tonight. It’s such a long way to travel on foot and in the dark.”
“Don’t trust them Detra!” hissed Jesse. Detra shook her head sadly and sighed.
“She’s not that dumb, Jesse,” Veltra whispered.
“Play us a song!” Trill yelled. Tiny flares of fire sparked at her fingertips.
“What?” said the man.
“I said play us a song!” He looked around at his cohort.
“Us? Now?”
“Yes,” said Trill, “I reckon you couldn’t play a song if your life depended on it!” Detra laughed.
“Which is funny, because right now, it does.” The man took a step backwards. Trill threw a plume of fire at him, narrowly missing his left shoulder as he leapt back.
“Didn’t think so!” she yelled. The men, Jesse could easily count four of them now, each pulled swords out from their cloaks and rallied together.
“No,” said Detra and with a wave of her hand the hovering spikes of ice raced towards them. They reacted and struck at them with their blades, frosting up on contact. One yelped and dropped his sword. The one who spoke initially raised his hands, an arc of electricity streaking between one hand and the tip of his sword. Veltra frantically opened her bottle, releasing a cloud of white sand that rushed out to fill the air between the two groups. At the same time the arc of electricity sped towards them, but dissipated in the cloud of sand with a loud clap.
“Pull back!” Jesse heard one of the men shout. The cloud of sand continued to billow for several minutes until Detra signalled to Veltra. She opened the bottle again and the sand drifted neatly inside. The men were gone.
“I think they’ve found business elsewhere,” said Detra.
“Yeah! We kicked their arses!” declared Jesse, punching the air.
“Ahem,” Trill coughed, “We touched no such unspeakable place!”
“It’s a figure of speech.” Jesse explained.
“I’m just glad they didn’t put up a fight,” said Veltra.
“Yes, I would have hated to get out of bed,” muttered Detra. “You okay Jesse?”
“I could be worse. I’m sorry,” Jesse apologised for her incompetence, “I didn’t see them.”
“It doesn’t matter Jesse, I’m alive, Trill’s alive, Veltra’s alive, and you’re alive. Nothing’s wrong that can’t be mended. I’ll keep watch from here, you sleep.”
Now, Trill still seems as sarcastic as ever, but Detra seems slightly suspicious and Veltra seems a lot nicer, someone I would trust.
I don't think that you should get rid of Jesse's thoughts, I like them, and they make the story from a more of a protagonist way!
Apart from that, I'm really enjoying it. Any other comments feel free to ask! |
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