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Post by jliessa44 on Aug 21, 2015 19:21:33 GMT
I like it. My only question is Tiana the main character?
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Post by Draicon on Aug 22, 2015 10:31:27 GMT
You'll have to wait and see Jliessa
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Post by Draicon on Aug 22, 2015 10:32:09 GMT
Sorry for it being a few days between posts, will hopefully have more for you tomorrow
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Post by Draicon on Aug 24, 2015 12:54:26 GMT
Here's the final part of the first chapter. As always, I welcome criticism, suggestions and critiques Four messenger hawks leapt from their roost in the highest tower of Warrego Castle, wings spread to catch the wind. Four riders sat in saddles on their backs, knuckles white from gripping their reins tightly and faces squished tightly into riding helmets. With several loud shrieks, the birds separated and flew four different directions. The first bird had the shortest distance to travel. Its rider directed it almost directly west from the castle, towards a large village of grass huts built facing the ocean. It was still early in the morning when the hawks departed, but by the time the bird landed in the village, there were hundreds of tanned men, women and children swimming, splashing and laughing in the ocean. Competitive and vain, the beachfront tribe lived for thrill, pleasure and – most of all – the ocean. The second bird flew for just over an hour, headed south-east from the castle. It flew by an enormous lake, so large that the hawk’s rider could only just see the opposite shore. Marshes and swampland spread east from the lake, and it was here that the hawk glided down, searching for a safe spot to land. Almost out of nowhere, large dome huts of hardened mud rose from the swamp. Small people emerged from these dwellings, almost camouflaging with their surroundings. Their skin had a slight blue-grey hue, and their hair looked like slimy kelp. Despite their odd appearance, the marshland tribe were intelligent and cunning, with almost unimaginable hatred disguised in their heart. The third and fourth birds headed more directly south, and their journey was long and arduous. The great lake passed underneath, as did miles and miles of forest. An enormous mountain peak rose up before them, and the birds had to divert around it. Hours passed as they flew around the mountain, and both riders had to shade their eyes as the midday sun rose high in the sky. The mountain behind them, they continued onwards over more forest for many hours. Late in the afternoon, the scenery below them changed dramatically. The tree-line suddenly stopped and the hawks were flying over a wide, barren desert. The third messenger hawk separated and started descending over the rolling sand dunes. For several hours, the rider directed his bird back and forth over the desert, searching for their destination. Finally, just as the sun was disappearing behind the horizon, the rider spotted a spattering of tents below them. He directed the hawk down swiftly and landed between them. Before the rider could even dismount, a hundred fierce men and women had surrounded him. The desert tribe were warriors to the core, hardened by the desert sun and filled with a longing to prove their strength. Their dark skin was covered in scars from the constant fighting competitions they held, and their feet were tough from travelling all day on the hot sand, looking for water. The fourth bird continued on over the desert, and eventually forests appeared below once again. Well after dusk the hawk continued flying, the forests becoming nothing more than a dark shadow underneath. Finally, one shadow much taller than the rest rose on in front of the bird, and its rider directed it to land. The huge tree rose taller than the rest, and many wooden houses were precariously built on its wide-spreading branches. Far below, between the tree’s roots, hundreds of people were gathered around a glowing bonfire, and it was here that the bird headed for. People rushed forward as the bird landed, helping the rider to dismount and offering him food and water. The tree-dwellers were kind and peaceful people, but with a proud streak and strong sense of self-righteousness. Even as they were helping the rider, many of them were thinking how wonderful they were for helping. Their selfless acts were often entirely selfish. The four tribes lived in such isolated areas due to years of wars between them. Their history was riddled with conflict, and the tribes had nearly uttered destroyed each other before a treaty was formed. The island nation would have a king, and that king would be chosen from the four tribes by a competition. When a king died, the competition would be held again to select a new one. It was called the King’s Challenge. And it was for this reason that the four messenger hawks went out. The riders carried a message, dictated by the King’s personal aide Wentworth, issuing a summons for the King’s Challenge. Each messenger gathered the entire tribe around them and read the message aloud. “Loyal subjects of Warrego,” it said, “it is my regrettable duty to inform you that King Peter, our dearly-loved ruler, passed from this world last night. It is a tragic time for our nation, but we must keep moving forward, as our traditions demand. For this reason, I announce to you that the King’s Challenge will commence in 7 days time. “The Challenge is simple: all competitors must start at the southernmost point of Warrego, and the first person to reach the castle gates in the north will be crowned the new king. “All men over the age of 15 are invited to compete, and carrier birds can be provided if needed to transport you to the starting line. “Let us bring pride to our late King Peter by making this the greatest King’s Challenge in history. Our new king is among you, my friends, so join me at the starting line. “With my greatest regards, “Wentworth.”
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Post by Starsinger on Aug 24, 2015 13:00:40 GMT
I like it. I don't think I have any critique ... But it also happens to be one in the morning and I'm onto my third coffee and had far too much sugar for my brain to function.
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Post by Draicon on Aug 24, 2015 13:02:08 GMT
Haha thanks Starsinger Get some sleep tho
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Post by Starsinger on Aug 24, 2015 13:06:09 GMT
We have to pick some friends up from the airport at around two and my sister didn't want to go alone...so we've been having a coffee and movie binge in the meantime. But yeah, I really liked the way that was written, I could visualise everything quite nicely
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Post by Draicon on Aug 24, 2015 13:26:34 GMT
Fair enough, hope you get some sleep eventually And I'm really glad to hear that I want you to be able to see the world I'm creating
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Post by Draicon on Aug 30, 2015 3:52:31 GMT
Sorry for it being several days without posts guys. Just been busy the last few days. Don't have any more of the story for you just yet, but hopefully will soon
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Post by jliessa44 on Aug 31, 2015 15:52:41 GMT
Nice. ^.^
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Post by Draicon on Sept 3, 2015 7:42:10 GMT
Ugh I'm sorry guys, I hate going so long without posts. I've finally started on Chapter 2, had a little bit of writer's block because I knew what characters I wanted to introduce but couldn't quite think how to do it. There isn't much yet, but I've got some other stuff to do tonight and am not sure if I'll get any more written. So here it is, the very first part of Chapter 2:
“Danny-boy! Oh Daniel my dear, come and help your dear old ma!” Daniel couldn’t help but smile at the voice, leaving the gathering around the fire and jogging over to his mother. She stood at the base of the mammoth tree they all called home. “I’ve said it a hundred times Ma, I could build you a ladder up to our house,” Daniel said with a smile. “And I’ve told you a hundred times, I don’t need a ladder ‘coz I’ve got you,” she replied with a grin. She wasn’t much to look at, Daniel’s Ma. She was reasonably short, especially next to her tall, lanky son. Her blonde hair had long since lost its shine, and her tanned skin – the tell-tale sign of her heritage – was no longer free of blemishes. She had left her family from the beach-dwelling tribe in the north-west to marry the love of her life: a tree-dweller. Her husband had died several years ago from a terrible illness, but she had remained amongst her adopted tribe for the sake of her son. She loved Daniel with every fibre of her being, and he adored her. The one unfortunate truth, however, was that she would never climb trees the way her neighbours did. It wasn’t in her blood. But it was in Daniel’s. So every day he helped her climb down from their house in the morning, and back up to it in the evening. Daniel cupped his hands to give his Ma a foothold and hoisted her up into the lower branches of the tree. With graceful ease, he pulled himself up after her. Together they climbed higher and higher. At times, Daniel would climb on ahead and pull Ma up after him. At other times, he would carry her in his arms as he leapt effortlessly between branches, ignoring the dizzying drop underneath them. Eventually they reached the wooden hut they called home. It was perched somewhat precariously on a large branch, and was essentially just one room with no door. But it afforded the most beautiful view of the land, with lush green forest stretching in all directions and a mountain peak just barely visible in the distance. “I’ll get started on dinner, shall I?” Ma said with a smile. Daniel knew she was out of breath from the climb, but that never stopped her putting other people first. A blur of feathers rushed by the open doorway, giving them both a fright, and moments later several of their neighbours clambered past, climbing down the tree in a hurry. “Messenger hawk!” was the faint cry, as more and more tree-folk descended. Daniel looked at his Ma out of the corner of his eye. He knew she couldn’t make the climb again so soon. She knew it too. “You go on, Danny-boy. I’ll have dinner ready when you get back, and you can tell me exactly what happened.” “Ma...” Daniel began, planning to tell her that it didn’t matter, and that he could hear the news in the morning. “It’s not up for discussion, my dear. Go on now.” With a wry smile, Daniel gave his Ma a quick kiss on the cheek and hurried out of the house. He leapt without hesitation, dropping several metres before grabbing on to a branch. The journey that had taken so long with his Ma now took moments, as Daniel leapt from branch to branch. He reached the lowest branch and dismounted with a frontflip just for the sake of it.
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Post by Aviar Goldeneagle on Sept 4, 2015 22:26:37 GMT
I like it. Keep it coming. I'm wondering what part Danny is going to play.
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Glade
Elf
Minstrel
Posts: 48
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Post by Glade on Sept 7, 2015 4:54:02 GMT
DRAICON! OH MY GOSH, OH MY GOLLY, OH MY GOODNESS! YOU'RE BACK!!! Uh, yeah, this is Glade. I was really hoping you'd come to Whitehall! I'm so glad to see you're still writing! I have to wait to read yours until I'm done editing my own book, thanks to a hasty vow I made last year, but I'm really looking forward to it!! And The King's Challenge is an EPIC title!! Any road, I'm just glad you're back (if you couldn't tell by my caps lock )!
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Post by Draicon on Sept 7, 2015 8:12:02 GMT
Hey Glade!! Great to see you again!! It did take me quite a while to find Whitehall, but I'm here now! Best of luck editing your own book, I know what a long arduous process it can be. I hope to read your book some day
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Post by Draicon on Sept 7, 2015 8:13:30 GMT
And here's some more of Chapter 2 hope you enjoy, but if you don't or if have some criticisms or advice, feel free to share it With a wry smile, Daniel gave his Ma a quick kiss on the cheek and hurried out of the house. He leapt without hesitation, dropping several metres before grabbing on to a branch. The journey that had taken so long with his Ma now took moments, as Daniel leapt from branch to branch. He reached the lowest branch and dismounted with an elegant frontflip, smiling to himself at the trick. The sound of clapping disrupted the silence behind him, slow and mocking. “Lovely flip there, Danny-boy. Ditched your Ma tonight did ya? Was she slowing you down?” Daniel gritted his teeth angrily and turned around. A tall young man with broad shoulders and a smirk on his handsome face stood flanked by two other young men. They all looked at him mockingly, waiting for his angry response. “Good evening Simeon,” Daniel said as calmly as he could. “I’m only here to hear what the messenger has to say, so please just leave me alone. And don’t call me Danny-boy.” He turned his back on Simeon and started walking away. Simeon’s next words stopped him in his tracks. “She doesn’t belong here, you know...everyone thinks it. She isn’t one of us. When I become chief, I’m going to banish her, Danny-boy.” Daniel jerked as if he had been slapped. It wasn’t an empty threat, as Simeon was the popular son of the tribe’s chief, and it was thought that his father was planning to retire soon and hand on the mantle. The thought of his mother treated so unfairly pushed Daniel over the edge. In a blur, Daniel rushed at Simeon and grabbed him roughly by his shirt, knocking the bigger man back at step. “My Ma is more deserving of a spot in this tree than you will ever be, Simeon. She has a genuinely kind and loving heart, unlike yours which is angry and selfish. You hate her just because she can’t climb a Darn tree like we can. Well I hate you Simeon. I hate yo–” Daniel was cut off as Simeon’s friends grabbed his arms and threw him to the ground. Several people stopped around them at the conflict. Aware of the fact, Simeon held out a hand to stop his friends doing anything more. “You need to calm down, Danny-boy,” Simeon said quietly. “I know you have the beach-lover’s blood in your veins, but that’s no excuse for such violent outbursts. I won’t allow such things when I am chief.” Daniel stood up slowly as Simeon and his friends strolled away, dusting off his clothes and ignoring the glares of the people around him. He knew that in their eyes he had just attacked their golden boy and future chief. Without meeting their eyes, he joined the growing crowd surrounding the messenger. As he listened to the official message of the King’s death and upcoming King’s Challenge, Daniel realised this might be his only chance to give his mother the life she deserved. If he won the challenge and became king, she would live in the castle with him. She would have servants to wait on her day and night, and would be respected by all in the kingdom. Daniel couldn’t help but smile at the thought. He would enter the challenge, and would win it. For Ma. But as the messenger finished his announcement and the crowd dispersed, Simeon walked by him with a dark look in his eyes. “I’m going to win that challenge, Danny-boy,” he murmured softly so that only Daniel could hear. “And then I’m going to make you pay for crossing me.” Daniel glared holes in Simeon’s back as he walked away, a fiery determination mixed with hatred burning in the pit of his stomach. “Don’t call me Danny-boy,” he muttered under his breath.
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Post by Dmitri Pendragon on Sept 7, 2015 8:34:57 GMT
Nice! I think "angrily" after "Daniel gritted his teeth" near the start isn't needed, considering that it's obvious Daniel is angry from gritting his teeth. Hmm, looks like Simeon is going to be causing a lot more trouble for Daniel by the time the book's over.
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Post by Starsinger on Sept 7, 2015 8:55:19 GMT
Cool!
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Post by Draicon on Sept 7, 2015 11:47:25 GMT
That's a good point Dmitri...I'll change that Thanks guys
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Post by Draicon on Sept 12, 2015 6:26:42 GMT
Sorry for the lack of updates in the last few days. I haven't written any more yet...was a bit lazy earlier in the week, and now when I want to write I've come down with a pretty bad cold and can't think properly hopefully in a few days I'll have some more more
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Post by Draicon on Sept 16, 2015 6:56:43 GMT
Well here it is, the end of chapter 2. Sorry it took such a long time, I just got lazy/sick and didn't get around to writing more, plus I wasn't sure quite how I wanted to order things in the next few chapters. As always, I welcome any criticism and comments, whether that be about writing style or characters or anything. Hope you enjoy (P.s. this part of chapter two is separate from the first half of chapter 2) Like an alpha lion, Kali prowled through the campsite. His hands were already in fists and he bared his teeth in an angry sneer at anyone who dared to look him in the eye. The messenger’s news from the evening prior had whipped the desert campsite into a frenzy, starting a hundred different discussions as to who might become the new king. Kali prowled now to leave no doubt in their minds. It was only midmorning and already the heat in the camp was sweltering. Kali ignored the sweat that trickled down his charcoal-coloured skin, only pausing to threateningly towards a young man that met his gaze for too long. Like many before him, the young warrior cast down his eyes and stepped backwards in submission. Kali wasn’t the biggest warrior in the desert tribe. But what he lacked in height and broadness, he made up for in pure ferocity. Already that morning he had been in three fights, and caused two grown men to beg for mercy. The third had been unconscious when he left. Approaching his father’s tent, Kali pulled a loose shirt on over his bare, scarred chest. This was not a sign of deference or respect, but rather to hide the trickle of blood running from a knife wound in his side. To his shame, one of his opponents had wounded him. His father barely looked up as Kali entered. He sat on cushion, being fed fruit by two of his wives, and sipping away at some of their precious water supply. “I have come to warn you, Father,” said Kali, his deep voice rumbling. It was said that you could feel the vibrations from his voice in the sand if you were close enough. Unimpressed, his father barely moved. “Warn me of what, boy?” Kali scowled, “You know of the King’s Challenge. I know of your desire to rule. I have come to warn you not to compete, or I will be forced to destroy you as I will all who oppose me.” Finally his father looked up, white teeth flashing against his dark skin as he scowled. “You forget your place, boy. You should not dare to cross me.” “In case your eyes have grown dim and you do not know, Father,” Kali spat out, “I am not longer a boy and you are no longer in your prime.” “And yet your opponent draws blood so easily.” Kali looked down and saw the dark red spot spreading on his shirt. He trembled with rage at his father’s comment, but for once in his life held it back. Having regained some semblance of calm, Kali walked forward until he towered over his father, sending the two wives scurrying backwards out of the way. “I will do a lot more than draw blood if you cross me, Father. For my mother’s sake, and the sake of all your other wives and children, don’t enter the Challenge. It will not end well for you.” There was a pause while his father considered his words. Eventually, without looking up, he said “Very well, boy. I will remain here. But if you lose, you will bring shame to your family. So for our sake...crush all who stand in your way.” At his words, a broad smile broke out on Kali’s face – a very rare occurrence. “I will crush them simply for the joy of crushing them. The next time you see me, Father, you will bow at my feet, and I will be your king.” Without another word, Kali turned to leave the tent. Pushing back the tent flap, he almost ran into a young boy, not yet in his teens, who he recognised as one of his many brothers. Letting out a fierce growl, Kali raised a fist and watched with pleasure as the boy dropped to his knees in the sand, face down. Kali grunted in acceptance of his submission and continued his prowl of the campsite. He knew that soon every man, woman and child would be on their knees before him, and once again his face was split by a rare smile.
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Post by Dmitri Pendragon on Sept 17, 2015 6:54:38 GMT
Wow. This guy looks like he's going to be trouble. Lots of trouble.
I would rewrite the sentence "Unimpressed, his father barely moved." It doesn't give enough of a visual to make us see what the father's doing. Maybe something like, "His father rocked on the cushion and yawned", or whatever suitable visual you'd put there. But overall, I really like the mood you've set of Kali's culture.
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Post by Draicon on Sept 19, 2015 13:21:17 GMT
Thanks for the feedback Dmitri. Will definitely take it on-board Hopefully will have the start of chapter 3 out soon
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Post by Draicon on Oct 8, 2015 12:28:19 GMT
Sorry for how long it has been since I've posted anything had a busy few weeks and have just been a little uninspired for what to do with chapter 3. Hopefully I will think of something soon and get back into the writing rhythm
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Post by Draicon on Nov 19, 2015 0:11:58 GMT
Hey guys, I know its been so long since I really posted anything...I just had a massive case of writer's block, and couldn't get back into the rhythm of writing. Sorry to anyone who was waiting for more, and sorry for the fact that I just kinda disappeared. I have written some more now, and also did a bit of re-writing of what I had.
Here's what I've done: - I changed my description of the marshland tribe, making them pale rather than having bluish skin - I made quite a few changes to the first part of chapter 2, about Daniel and Simeon. Daniel is one of he key characters, so I wanted to establish him and his relationship with his ma a bit more. After the changes, this section was long enough that I made it the entirety of Chapter 2, and moved the part about Kali to the start of Chapter 3 - I wrote the second half of Chapter 3, and I'm pretty happy with how it turned out.
The new description of marshland tribe: The second bird flew for just over an hour, headed south-east from the castle. It flew by an enormous lake, so large that the hawk’s rider could only just see the opposite shore. Marshes and swampland spread east from the lake, and it was here that the hawk glided down, searching for a safe spot to land. Almost out of nowhere, large dome huts of hardened mud rose from the swamp. Small people emerged from these dwellings, their extremely pale skin making them look like ghosts appearing from the mist. They had small, suspicious eyes and their long hair looked like slimy kelp from the constant moisture in the air. Despite their odd appearance, the marshland tribe were intelligent and cunning, with almost unimaginable hatred disguised in their heart.
Chapter 2: “Danny-boy! Oh Daniel my dear, come and help your dear old ma!” Daniel couldn’t help but smile at the voice, leaving the gathering around the fire and jogging over to his mother. She stood at the base of the mammoth tree they all called home. “I’ve said it a hundred times Ma, I could build you a ladder up to our house,” Daniel said with a smile. “And I’ve told you a hundred times, I don’t need a ladder ‘coz I’ve got you,” she replied with a grin. She wasn’t much to look at, Daniel’s Ma. She was reasonably short, especially next to her tall, lanky son. Her blonde hair had long since lost its shine, and her tanned skin – the tell-tale sign of her heritage – was no longer free of blemishes. She had left her family from the beach-dwelling tribe in the north-west to marry the love of her life: a tree-dweller. Her husband had died several years ago from a terrible illness, but she had remained amongst her adopted tribe for the sake of her son. She loved Daniel with every fibre of her being, and he adored her. The one unfortunate truth, however, was that she would never climb trees the way her neighbours did. It wasn’t in her blood. But it was in Daniel’s. So every day he helped her climb down from their house in the morning, and back up to it in the evening. Daniel cupped his hands to give his Ma a foothold and hoisted her up into the lower branches of the tree. With graceful ease, he pulled himself up after her. Together they climbed higher and higher. At times, Daniel would climb on ahead and pull Ma up after him. Occasionally he would carry her in his arms as he leapt effortlessly between branches, ignoring the dizzying drop underneath them. Eventually they reached the wooden hut they called home. It was perched somewhat precariously on a large branch, and was essentially just one room with no door. But it afforded the most beautiful view of the land, with lush green forest stretching in all directions and a mountain peak just barely visible in the distance. “I’ll get started on dinner, shall I?” Ma said with a smile. Daniel knew she was out of breath from the climb, but that never stopped her putting other people first. They enjoyed a simple meal together, watching the light fade outside their hut, totally content. When they had each other, there was nothing else in the world that they needed. After their meal, Ma told stories of her old life living by the beach, sharing with Daniel the joy of waking up to the smell of salt air and diving into the cool ocean waves. Daniel had been to the sea several times, and been taught to swim by his Ma, but he had never felt the connection to the ocean that she did. As he listened to her speak fondly of the sandy beaches, he promised himself that he would take her to the coast again soon. When she ran out of stories, Daniel described the freedom of swinging through the treetops. He told Ma his favourite story – one she had heard a million times but still enjoyed – of standing in the very top branches of a tall tree, with nothing but air all around him. It was almost like floating, and he stayed there for hours, enjoying the warmth of the sun and the fresh breeze. Then Ma told Daniel about his day, and he felt like crying. As she spoke of her “friends” and the things they did together, he knew that the same women thought of her as an outsider and only acted “nice” to show what kind people they were. Eventually, they both decided to get some sleep. With the cool night air still flowing through the hut, they wrapped themselves in blankets and flopped onto their small mattresses. A blur of motion rushed by the open doorway, frightening them both out of their peaceful sleepy state. Moments later several of their neighbours clambered past, climbing down the tree in a hurry. “Messenger hawk!” was the faint cry, as more and more tree-folk descended. Daniel crawled out of his blankets and put on his boots, looking at Ma out of the corner of his eye. He knew she would struggle to make the climb down in the dark. She knew it too. “You go on, Danny-boy. You can tell me all about it in the morning.” “Ma...” Daniel began, planning to tell her that he could help her down, and she could hear the news for herself. “It’s not up for discussion, my dear. Go on now.” With a wry smile, Daniel leaned down to give his Ma a quick kiss on the cheek and hurried out of the house. He leapt without hesitation, dropping several metres before grabbing on to a branch. The journey that had taken so long with his Ma now took moments, as Daniel leapt from branch to branch with almost reckless ease. He reached the lowest branch and dismounted with an elegant frontflip, smiling to himself at the trick. The sound of clapping disrupted the silence behind him, slow and mocking. “Lovely jump there, Danny-boy. Ditched your Ma tonight did ya? Was she slowing you down?” Daniel gritted his teeth and turned around. A tall young man with broad shoulders and a smirk on his handsome face stood flanked by two other young men. They all looked at him mockingly, waiting for his angry response. “Good evening Simeon,” Daniel said as calmly as he could. “I’m only here to hear what the messenger has to say, so please just leave me alone. And don’t call me Danny-boy.” He turned his back on Simeon and started walking away. A arm draped around his shoulders and stopped him in his tracks. Simeon, with the friendliest of smiles on his face, murmured into Daniel’s ear. “She doesn’t belong here, you know...everyone thinks it. She isn’t one of us. When I become chief, I’m going to banish her, Danny-boy.” Daniel jerked as if he had been slapped. This wasn’t the first time Simeon had said things about his Ma. In fact, Simeon put on his display every time he saw Daniel. Smiling and patting him on the back, he would call him an outsider and a beach-lover, and telling how pathetic his Ma was. Daniel ignored him as much as possible, knowing that to everyone else Simeon appeared to be kind and friendly. But the threat of banishing his Ma was too much. And it wasn’t an empty threat, as Simeon was the popular son of the tribe’s chief, and it was thought that his father was planning to retire soon and hand on the mantle. The thought of his mother treated so unfairly pushed Daniel over the edge. In a blur, Daniel threw his elbow back into Simeon’s nose, feeling something break under the impact. Turning, he shoved him in the chest and knocked him back a few steps, before stepping close and grabbing the bigger man by the front of his shirt. “My Ma is more deserving of a spot in this tree than you will ever be, Simeon. You hate her just because she can’t climb a Darn tree like we can. Well I hate you Simeon. I hate yo–” Daniel was cut off as Simeon’s friends grabbed his arms and threw him to the ground. People all around them stopped at the conflict. Simeon held out a hand to stop his friends, the other hand held up to his bleeding nose. “Hey man, there’s no need to fight,” Simeon said loud enough for everyone to hear. “I was just trying to help. No hard feelings?” Simeon held out his hand to help Daniel to his feet, a small smile on his lips despite the obvious break in his nose. Daniel knew he had fallen into his trap, solidifying his place as a violent outsider, and helping Simeon remain the tribe’s golden boy. Ignoring the offered hand, Daniel got to his feet and walked away. He could feel the accusing eyes on his back, but he ignored them and found a subtle spot to listen to the messenger speak. As the official message of the King’s death and upcoming King’s Challenge was read, Daniel realised this might be his only chance to give his mother the life she deserved. If he won the challenge and became king, she would live in the castle with him. She would have servants to wait on her day and night, and would be respected by all in the kingdom. Daniel couldn’t help but smile at the thought. He would enter the challenge, and would win it. For Ma. But as the messenger finished his announcement and the crowd dispersed, Simeon walked by him, holding a cloth to his bent and bruised nose. “I’m going to win that challenge, Danny-boy,” he murmured softly so that only Daniel could hear. “And then I’m going to make you pay for crossing me.” Daniel glared holes in Simeon’s skull as he walked away, a fiery determination mixed with hatred burning in the pit of his stomach. “Don’t call me Danny-boy,” he muttered under his breath.
Chapter 3: Like an alpha lion, Kali prowled through the campsite. His hands were already in fists and he bared his teeth in an angry sneer at anyone who dared to look him in the eye. The messenger’s news from the evening prior had whipped the desert campsite into a frenzy, starting a hundred different discussions as to who might become the new king. Kali planned to leave no doubt in their minds. It was only midmorning and already the heat in the camp was sweltering. Kali ignored the sweat that trickled down his charcoal-coloured skin, only pausing to step threateningly towards a young man that met his gaze for too long. Like many before him, the young warrior cast down his eyes and stepped backwards in submission. Kali wasn’t the biggest warrior in the desert tribe. But what he lacked in height and broadness, he made up for in pure ferocity. Already that morning he had been in three fights, and caused two grown men to beg for mercy. The third had been unconscious when he left. Approaching his father’s tent, Kali pulled a loose shirt on over his bare, scarred chest. This was not a sign of deference or respect, but rather to hide the trickle of blood running from a knife wound in his side. To his shame, one of his opponents had wounded him. His father barely looked up as Kali entered. He sat on cushion, being fed fruit by two of his wives, and sipping away at some of their precious water supply. “I have come to warn you, Father,” said Kali, his deep voice rumbling. It was said that you could feel the vibrations from his voice in the sand if you were close enough. Unimpressed, his father barely moved. “Warn me of what, boy?” Kali scowled, “You know of the King’s Challenge. I know of your desire to rule. I have come to warn you not to compete, or I will be forced to destroy you as I will all who oppose me.” Finally his father looked up, white teeth flashing against his dark skin as he scowled. “You forget your place, boy. You should not dare to cross me.” “In case your eyes have grown dim and you do not know, Father,” Kali spat out, “I am not longer a boy and you are no longer in your prime.” “And yet your opponent draws blood so easily.” Kali looked down and saw the dark red spot spreading on his shirt. He trembled with rage at his father’s comment, but for once in his life held it back. Having regained some semblance of calm, Kali walked forward until he towered over his father, sending the two wives scurrying backwards out of the way. “I will do a lot more than draw blood if you cross me, Father. For my mother’s sake, and the sake of all your other wives and children, don’t enter the Challenge. It will not end well for you.” There was a pause while his father considered his words. Eventually, without looking up, he said “Very well, boy. I will remain here. But if you lose, you will bring shame to your family. So for our sake...crush all who stand in your way.” At his words, a broad smile broke out on Kali’s face – a very rare occurrence. “I will crush them simply for the joy of crushing them. The next time you see me, Father, you will bow at my feet, and I will be your king.” Without another word, Kali turned to leave the tent. Pushing back the tent flap, he almost ran into a young boy, not yet in his teens. He recognised the boy as one of his many brothers. Letting out a fierce growl, Kali raised a fist and watched with pleasure as the boy dropped to his knees in the sand, face down. Kali grunted in acceptance of his submission and continued his prowl of the campsite. He knew that soon every man, woman and child would be on their knees before him, and once again his face was split by a rare smile.
A small, pale man pulled another handful of weeds from the mud. He wiped a clump of soggy hair away from his face as he rose from his crouch, adding the leafy green stalks to the basket in his hand. He glanced quickly around, eyes narrowed and suspicious, before hurrying off into the fog. Harley took an indirect route home, wading through chest-deep water at times, to avoid any prying eyes. If anyone saw him and recognised his cargo, it wouldn’t end well for him. His house was a small, ugly affair. Short as he was, Harley still had to duck under the doorway as he entered. Inside, it was essentially one large room, with a table in one corner and a tiny bed in another. A mat of woven reeds covered the floor, but was so covered in mud and grime that it was no better than being outside. Home sweet home. Harley put his basket down on the table and pulled a mortar and pestle out from under his bed. He paused momentarily at the door, peering out at the neighbouring houses, just visible through the mist. The location of his home had been planned very carefully. He couldn’t be too far away from other people or he would be considered a loner and an outsider. This wasn’t a problem because he would be lonely, but because it would make him stand out. People notice an outsider, look at them strangely, whisper about them as they walk by. This wouldn’t do for Harley at all. So he placed his house just close enough that he was accepted as part of the community and treated as an ordinary guy. But he was also just far enough away to avoid constant neighbour interactions...and any curious eyes. Satisfied that there was nobody nearby, Harley returned to his work. He ground several stalks of the tough weed until he had a coarse powder. Reaching for a jug behind him, he poured in a little water and mixed in his powder, repeating the process several times until he had a watery paste. The light green mixture had no smell, but even being near it Harley could feel himself getting a little dizzy. The weed was called Devil’s Sleep, and as much as the marshland tribe had tried to wipe it out, it doggedly kept finding a way to grow. If it grew amongst reeds, the other plants would soon wilt and go rotten. If it grew next to a watering hole, that hole would have to be abandoned because it was contaminated. In high enough doses, Devil’s Sleep could kill a family. But a dilute, small amount of the crushed weed would simply leave the victim extremely tired, lethargic and dazed. The effects wore off...in a month or so. Upon hearing the announcement of the King’s Challenge, Harley secretly searched for the weed. It had taken him two days, but he had found it. And nobody else knew. Now he poured a small dribble of the liquid from his mortar into the large pitcher of water. It was such a small amount that it barely even tinted the water. But Harley knew that one sip would knock out a grown man for a long time. He kept the pitcher on the opposite side of his house, not wanting to take any risks. That night, long after the town had gone to sleep, he secretly disposed of the rest of his mixture. While it might have been a good backup to keep some, he knew that if anyone found out what he had done, he wouldn’t survive the week. After pouring out the liquid – into a small bush far away from town that would soon be dead – he cleaned the mortar and pestle, washed his hands rigorously, and headed back to his house. Harley was smiling as he crawled into bed that night. The next day he would start eliminating some of his competition...and by the time the King’s Challenge came around, nobody that he considered a threat to beat him would have the energy to make the journey.
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Post by Draicon on Nov 20, 2015 3:50:04 GMT
Don't know if many people are still interested in reading this, and I don't blame you with the lack of updates. But here's the majority of Chapter 4...not sure if my next part will be the end of Chapter 4 or the start of Chapter 5. Anyways, I hope you enjoy, and feel free to leave any comments or criticisms Oh and btw, I realised that I forgot to address a critique from Dmitri Pendragon a little while back about a sentence that read "Unimpressed, his father barely moved." I did change that sentence to: "His father glanced up at his son briefly, then yawned and signalled for more fruit to be served." Didn't want it to seem like I ignored advice Enjoy! Chapter 4 The reflection in her mirror looked a whole lot better than Tiana. The reflection was dressed in an extravagant gown, with layer upon layer of deep purple silk spilling down around her. Her chestnut brown hair was piled in a precarious spiral on her head, with a purple flower pinned in the front. And although she wasn’t exactly smiling, the reflection looked calm and peaceful. Tiana knew she was nothing like that. She was an empty shell inside a dress, hollowed out from three days of anguish. Her mind was dull and uncaring, and her heart cold, missing the fire and fight that usually defined her. Sighing, she turned from the mirror and stood uncertainly, trying not to tread on her dress. She felt utterly ridiculous, and would have refused to wear it for any other reason. But it was for the memorial...for Dad. Feeling new tears rush to her eyes, Tiana hastily brushed them away before they left tracks in her makeup. Then she stepped into the arms of waiting servants, and after a few minor corrections to her hair and makeup, she was escorted to the throne room. The day passed in a blur. She murmured thanks to a thousand offered condolences, curtsied to a hundred visiting well-wishers and distant relatives. An orchestra played her father’s favourite music. Wentworth gave a stirring speech of the King’s many great deeds, and then it was her turn. Standing in front of the crowd was the last place she wanted to be. For a moment, she was tempted to run away, to hide in her room under her blankets and not come out until everyone had left. But her Dad had always said she wasn’t a quitter. She had too much fire in her to give up or run away from anything. So she faced down the crowd. “My dad,” Tiana began quietly, “was an incredible man. He was so kind, so selfless and modest. He did so many wonderful things as the king of our great nation, and I think that we all owe him a great deal. “But more than anything, he was the greatest father. He could always make me smile and laugh, no matter how I was feeling.” Almost forgetting about the crowd, Tiana shared story after story about her father. Even though most of the stories were funny, there wasn’t a dry eye left in the audience by the end. “I’ll miss you, Dad,” Tiana finished quietly, tears rolling down her cheeks. “We all will miss you. And I hope that I can live a life that honours your legacy.” Wentworth sat in the front row as Tiana made her speech. He lifted a handkerchief to his face at regular intervals, dabbing at imaginary tears. It took all of his willpower to maintain his mask of sorrow, to play the part of the grieving right-hand man. He had been hard at work since the King’s death. With Tiana distracted by her grief, he had a limited window of opportunity to put his plan into motion. Gradually, Wentworth had...removed...many of the castle’s hawk riders and replaced them with men that were loyal to him. By the time of the funeral, the entire garrison of hawk riders was corrupted. Some were mercenaries he had hired, others were long-time servants he trusted, and the rest had received hefty bribes for their co-operation. Lost in his thoughts, it took Wentworth a moment to realise Tiana was coming to the end of her speech. He took a moment to ensure that his facade of anguish was still in place, and dabbed at a few more non-existent tears. “I hope I can live a life that honours your legacy,” Tiana concluded with a sad smile. Wentworth couldn’t stop his head jerking up involuntarily at her words, but at the last second changed the movement to an emphatic nod and started clapping loudly, leading the rest of the crowd in a round of applause. Tiana smiled at him and he embraced her quickly as she stepped down from the stage, but his mind was working overtime. Her last words troubled Wentworth deeply. He needed people around him that were impressionable, easy to manipulate and not too bright, and Tiana was none of those things. He had hoped that her father’s death had broken her fiery, independent spirit, but now she wanted to ‘honour his legacy.’ Later that evening, Wentworth knocked on Tiana’s door with a plan in mind. Hearing the call for him to enter, he opened the door with a kind expression plastered on his long, narrow face. “Good evening, your highness,” he greeted with a bow. “You spoke wonderfully today.” Tiana was sitting on her bed, happy to be out of her ridiculous gown and back in her usual comfortable tunic and pants. She smiled slightly in reply, giving a tired sigh. “Thankyou Wentworth. You did as well.” “It’s been a long and tiring day, your highness. You held up well.” Tiana gave a small smile again, “Thanks Wentworth. You’ve been a good and loyal servant.” Wentworth saw his opportunity and leapt on it with the ferocity of a lion. “It’s been a pleasure serving your family, your highness. A real privilege. But I’ve been wondering...what will you do when there is a new king?” Tiana looked up in surprise at that. “I assumed I would be allowed to stay at the castle. Help the new king, maybe become an advisor.” “Oh of course,” Wentworth said hurriedly in what he hoped was an assuring voice. “If that’s what you want. But there’s always the chance that the new king won’t want you as an advisor. Women’s opinions aren’t always respected, after all.” “You don’t have to tell me twice,” Tiana replied bitterly, chewing her lip thoughtfully. “So what will happen then?” “Well...there will always be a house reserved for you in town, out of respect for your father. You can stay there if you wish...become a servant at the castle or ask one of the shop-owners to take you on as an apprentice. I’m sure they’d be more than willing to help you out.” Tiana nodded sadly, “I suppose that’s an option. I don’t think it’s exactly what my Dad raised me to do. He always said I had so much potential...now it seems I might end up selling horseshoes.” Wentworth played his role like a master performer on a stage. He allowed the morose silence to last just long enough, thoughtfully rubbing his chin. Then he turned to Tiana, as if a revelation had just struck him. “As I see it, there are only two ways you can live the life of purpose and impact that your father would have wanted,” Wentworth said carefully. He paused and Tiana, thoroughly interested now, gestured for him to go on. “The first is a fairly obvious option. There have been princesses in the past who, once their father passed away, have opted to become queen by marrying the winner of the following King’s Challenge. Although marrying a stranger can be distasteful, as queen you could have a significant impact on the future of this nation.” As Wentworth had expected, Tiana was already shaking her head emphatically. She was far too independent and headstrong to rely on a husband to secure her position. Even with the potential benefits, there was no way she would be offered up like a prize for the winner of the King’s Challenge, and her lip had curled in disgust at the notion of it. Wentworth desperately suppressed a triumphant smile at the reaction. This was all working too perfectly for him. He briefly turned away from Tiana, composing himself for the final stroke. “Well I see only one remaining option, though it pains me to say it,” Wentworth said with a sad sigh. “If there’s no future for you here at the castle, then you may have to return to your roots. Your father was from the beachfront tribe, was he not? With your considerable influence and the reputation of your father, there is a good chance that the beach tribe will take you on as an advisor...maybe even as chief one day.” The words hurt Tiana and gave her hope at the same time. The thought of leaving her home in the castle cut like a knife, yet she knew the logic of it. As chief, or even as an advisor to a chief, she would be able to bring great change to one of Warrego’s four tribes, and in doing so could even impact the nation as a whole. It was a much better option than working in a shop, or marrying a stranger. She could honour her father by bringing needed change to his home tribe. With a sigh, she made up her mind. “Alright Wentworth,” she said without raising her head. “I will stay until the new king is crowned. Then I will head to my new home.” Wentworth nodded sadly and gently patted her shoulder. “I will be sorry to see you go, your highness. Serving your family has been the greatest honour of my life. But Warrego must have a new king.” Only as he closed the door behind him did Wentworth allow an enormous grin to split his face. His manipulation had been perfect, his performance absolutely masterful. Now the greatest threat to his plans had been removed. However, as she lay in bed that night, a third option presented itself to Tiana, and she was determined to take it.
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Post by Draicon on Nov 24, 2015 8:00:01 GMT
Hey guys, hope you're going well. Thanks to the people that have liked my last few posts I assume that means that they sounded ok. Let me know if there's anything you don't like about them, anything that doesn't sound right or isn't phrased well. I would love some feedback. Here's the last part of Chapter 4. We've moved away from Tiana and Wentworth for the moment, and are headed back to the forest tribe. Simeon didn’t wait in line to see his father. With a friendly smile to the people waiting outside the chief’s cabin, he simply opened the door and walked in. Nathaniel, the chief of the forest tribe, was a calming figure. He had kind eyes, a constant smile and a slightly pudgy figure which made him seem somehow softer on the eyes. In personality too, he was as soft as butter. He hated confrontation so much that he would do anything to appease people. Perhaps that’s why he was such a loved chief: because he would give people exactly what they asked. Even as he looked up at his son’s intrusion, there was no frown or look of disapproval on his features, just a slight sign of surprise in his eyes. Simeon gestured impatiently towards his father’s private quarters, not caring that he had been in the middle of a meeting. Placating as ever, Nathaniel nodded his understanding before smiling and directing a few words of apology to the elderly lady sitting opposite him. After directing the lady to speak to his secretary and patting her hand gently, the chief followed his son into the curtained-off private quarters. Simeon turned to face him, hands on his hips and chin thrust out stubbornly. Nathaniel’s constant smile widened slightly, recognising the pose as one that Simeon had used as a child whenever he wanted something. It was odd to see the childish gesture on a full-grown man. But Nathaniel was honest enough to know that he You know give his son whatever he asked for. Resisting the urge to sigh – for that could cause conflict – he placed a gentle hand on his son’s arm. “How are you, Simeon?” he asked in his gentle, soothing voice. “What do you need?” Chin still thrust out, and completely unaware how ridiculous he looked, Simeon replied “I need respect in this tribe, Father. Everyone has been looking at me strangely since the...incident...the other night. I’m quite sure they’re laughing at me behind my back.” Both the father and son knew this was an absolute load of rubbish. People had paid more attention than ever before to Simeon since Daniel broke his nose, constantly expressing sympathy and asking how he was feeling. And Simeon had leapt on the opportunity, talking about how he forgave Daniel and there were no hard feelings. Everyone admired and respected him, and he knew it. And even though Nathaniel knew it too, he played along. “How terrible, my son,” he said comfortingly. “What can we do to make them respect you more?” Simeon smiled victoriously, “It’s not what we can do, Father. It’s what you can do. I want you to retire as chief and hand on your title to me.” Nathaniel’s smile dropped momentarily. In his carefully-maintained, people-pleasing state, this was the equivalent of a shriek of horror. Simeon had asked for a lot in this past, but this was too much. Nathaniel loved the respect and adoration he received as chief, and it was the only thing of consequence he had achieved in his life. After a second’s hesitation, his smile had returned to normal. His mask was back up, and the part of his mind that hated conflict was back in control. It didn’t matter if Simeon was asking for him to give up his entire life, as long as he didn’t upset anyone. “Of course, my boy,” Nathaniel crooned. “Then all will respect you. You will be the greatest chief our tribe has ever seen.” Simeon thrust his chin out again proudly, and assumed a haughty smile. “Of course I will be. You will make an announcement to the tribe tonight, and the official handover ceremony will happen tomorrow afternoon. “You can act as interim chief when I leave for the King’s Challenge in 3 days. But I will have the support of the entire tribe as their chief while I compete.” Nathaniel nodded graciously, bowed once to his son, and begun to back out of the room. “As you wish, my lord.” Simeon grinned at his new title. My lord. He could get used to this.
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Post by Dmitri Pendragon on Nov 26, 2015 3:33:25 GMT
I am still reading, but I haven't commented because NaNo's on and I'm trying to get my last assignment finished before the NZ Correspondence School ends their year. I'd comment on this line in the most recent part: But Nathaniel was honest enough to know that he You know give his son whatever he asked for. There appears to be roadworks in the middle of it.
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Post by Draicon on Nov 26, 2015 6:53:00 GMT
Ahah yeah woops...seems to be a word or two in there that shouldn't be I'll fix that Thanks for the help, and I'm glad to know you're still reading Good luck getting stuff done, deadlines can be so stressful. God bless
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Post by Draicon on Dec 1, 2015 13:14:22 GMT
Hey guys!! Sorry for the slight delay in posts, just hadn't managed to write any more until today. It wasn't that I was busy, I was just a little unsure how to begin Chapter 5. I sat down a couple of times to write then had to stop a couple of sentences in because it just wasn't flowing. If you force it too much you just end up with boring rubbish I've found Anyways, inspiration struck me, and I wrote the first section of Chapter 5. It's not too long, and I've decided to stop for the night coz its almost midnight in Australia but here it is. Let me know what you think Chapter 5With two days to go until the King’s Challenge, the skies of Warrego darkened. Hundreds of shapes filled the skies, casting their enormous shadows on the ground below. All the servants watched in awe as the saddled hawks soared away from the castle and into the clear blue sky. Mounted on them was the castle’s entire garrison of soldiers, each guiding an additional unmounted hawk which would be used to collect competitors from the different tribes and escorting them to the starting line. Only several hawks remained in the castle, waiting to carry Tiana, her personal guards and Wentworth to the southernmost tip of Warrego. It was a long trip, and Wentworth was eager to be underway. Yet Tiana lingered in her room, running her hands along the familiar stone walls and ornate tapestries. She knew that it was extremely likely she would never be allowed back into the castle again, especially with the plan she had been developing. It was probably going to make a lot of people very angry. And so she delayed, soaking in every detail of her home through tear-filled eyes. This was her life. It was where her mother had died, where her father had raised her. It was everything she knew. But that was all about to change, and with a heaving sigh, she accepted her fate. Soon after, she was cushioned amongst brown and white feathers, watching the ground rush underneath her far below. It was the most exhilarating experience imaginable, and every time she flew, her heart soared with the bird. But this time, she barely registered rush of the wind on her face. Her heart was far behind her, wandering through stone hallways with a father she loved dearly.
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Post by Draicon on Dec 8, 2015 13:18:08 GMT
Sorry for the delay in posting guys. Just hadn't gotten around to writing. Here's the next part of Chapter 5. Please let me know what you think, I'm really trying to set up Harley as a character here, so if sounds too forced or corny or anything, I would appreciate hearing that Harley finally allowed himself to be happy once they were up in the air. He had maintained an appearance of mild concern for the last hour, and so it was a relief to finally allow a smile to break through. Everything had gone perfectly. Last night, he had slithered around town from shadow to shadow and poured a few drops of his concoction into the water troughs of his targets. He couldn’t poison the whole town, obviously. It would’ve taken far too long and increased the chances of being caught. Besides, being the only person not affected by a sudden sickness would most certainly raise some suspicions. So he had chosen his targets carefully. The town’s leaders were the first to go. The most intelligent and cunning townsfolk followed. Then the brave, adventurous teenagers, who had boasted so freely of their own strength. Harley had quivered with pleasure as he shared his special drink with them. It took all his self-control not to pour in too much of the poison, but he knew that killing them – as fun as it may be – would only raise suspicions more. He tossed and turned all night, thrilled with his own cunning and eagerly awaiting the morn. And his heart almost burst with pride and victory when he saw how many people were missing when the transport hawks arrived. A few of the stronger men had lurched haggardly towards the birds despite the drug in their system, and initially Harley had been disappointed. But seeing them struggle with the basic tasks of walking and talking, he knew they now posed no threat to him in the King’s Challenge. And so now he grinned, even crowed in triumph at the sky. To anyone nearby, it looked as if he was exhilarated by the experience of flying. But in truth, he couldn’t care less about flying. It was a means to an end, his transport to the starting line. He settled back as much as his saddle allowed, looking around him at his old, weak and clumsy kinsfolk riding the surrounding birds. His own tribe now posed no threat to him, but there would be many strong competitors from the other tribes. As the forest rushed by underneath him and an enormous mountain drew closer in front of him, Harley plotted how he would eliminate the coming threats. His hawk lurched on a sudden gust of wind, and the contents of his knapsack rattled. Underneath the food and water, an airtight container of his Devil’s Sleep potion slid free from a hidden compartment. And next to it lay a razor sharp dagger in its sheath, the hilt stained with small drops of red.
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