Post by Warrior of Aror on Aug 8, 2017 17:31:37 GMT
I've been really sick for most of the past week. I'm finally starting to feel better! Back to writing. I've been writing my entire third draft of my book entirely by hand. It takes longer, but the prose is a lot nicer. I'm liking the first 6,000 words. And now the story's main adventure is about to get under way.
Last Edit: Aug 8, 2017 17:37:40 GMT by Warrior of Aror: PS. Ths s a secret mssge from Wrrior. He's trppd in Morrigan's evil dungeons. If u see this, pls send help; & cookies
Post by Warrior of Aror on Sept 9, 2017 17:13:16 GMT
Been forgetting to upload this old story.
Chapter 2 Pāto V
Daki stepped inside his room, but peaked his head back into the dining room first. Miamichu and Daisuke stood murmuring around the rebuilt table.
“What's going on?” piped Daki, breaking up the conversation between husband and wife.
Miamichu turned to her son and gave a half-hearted smile at him. “Nothing for you to be worried about. A village meeting with the elders. Two Masters have come down from the peaks to hold the monthly council. I thought we told you it was today.”
“Oh.” Daki's head drooped. Just another boring meeting. He turned away and started to close the door when he stopped himself. Maybe this was his chance? Maybe he could somehow tell the village that whatever demon he had awoken had escaped from its prison.
Miamichu and Daisuke had already gone back to their conversation. They were about to leave. Daki's dad was reaching for the door. This was his chance! . . . his chance to expose himself to everlasting shame. But he had to – for the village's sake. He had to. Now! Just do it!
Daki swung open his door with a clatter and leapt between his parents and the door outside. “Wait!” he called, louder than he had intended. He softened his voice. “Take me with you.”
Daisuke caught the joke in an instant and exploded into balling laughter. But it wasn't a joke.
At her son's insistent gaze, Miamichu elbowed her husband in the gut. “Are you serious, Daki?”
No. I got you with that one. The answer came immediately to mind. But he shoved it away. Backing down now was weakness – something he was far too good at as it was. Daki leveled his breathing, then nodded. “Yeah.” Miamichu gave a disapproving glance at her husband. Daki felt the sting of failure coming on.
“Wait,” he said again, “I think it would be a good . . . er, educational experience for me. It'll help me understand more about how this village works and everything.”
Daisuke sighed. He narrowed his eyes and looked Daki up and down. “It couldn't hurt. Let's bring him along with us.” Miamichu gave in. “Sure . . . Daki, come along with us. Just don't say anything or interrupt the council. It's for the grownups.”
Daki rolled his eyes. Grownups. A few years made a dooming gap between them, and so his parents had to make a separation – like he wasn't human at all? Daki stuffed his feelings down. “Okay.”
Daisuke and Miamichu, suddenly much sobered, showed Daki the way to the council table being set up in the middle of the village street – as though he didn't know where it was already.
The table was round, with three legged chairs occupied by a dozen warriors from around the village, and more pouring in. In the center was nailed a sheep skin map. Daki yawned. But he perked up as two men in purple robes, edged in gray fur, strolled solemnly down the village road talking quietly with the village chief. Masters rarely came down from their homes far away – but when they did, they sometimes took lucky Jinnas with them away to become their Kiamari: their apprentice.
But that was a daydream.
Daki took a seat – his parents quickly secured the two on either side. He watched with slight interest as the masters took their seats, but resorted to day dreaming and fingering his hair for what felt like an eternity. Old people took a long time to sit down.
When the meeting did begin and break Daki away from his thoughts of suddenly gaining skill and showing off to the masters, and from there being enlisted as an apprentice, he wished he hadn't been interrupted. He had never realized how boring the Code of Issachar was when he actually had to sit still and listen.
And when that was done, the briefing on the village's finances, the monthly achievements, and the reports on the people's welfare began. By that time, even the warriors were stifling yawns. The masters, unused to such boring talk, had turned sour almost as quickly as Daki had.
But when that was over, the masters stood, and when they spoke, the villager's ears were opened.
“Shiro's enemies have rallied themselves. The Kuron Shinagra from their slopes threaten assassination, many villages of the northern provinces speak of rebellion, and Shiro's own nephew seeks at every turn to delay the process of the lawful execution of Shiro's peacekeeping permits. Our land is not of one mind.”
The councilmembers nodded as if they had heard of the trouble earlier. Daki glanced at his own parents. They seemed to know too. Then why hadn't they told him?
“Because of this,” one of the masters went on, “King Shiro has ordered a new war edict.” A trail of whispers went up through the council. The master called for silence by lifting a fist into the air. “King Shiro has ordered a new edict for these times of uncertainty. If this does lead to war, we are not to be caught lying down, but standing in battle armor and a hand on our sword. And therefore, two out of three warriors from all villages will be called to report to Shiro's armies.”
An uproar broke all levelheadedness around the table. Daki's own shout was flushed down the current of noise – only a drop in a river of anger. Even the masters who were revered and held with honor could not control the outrage. At last the river began to run dry, and an angry silence settled on the meeting.
“Trust us to be telling the truth when we say that we masters also hold disdain for this edict. To see the village people pressed into service is not what we had hoped to promote, for escalating tensions rarely leads to anything but war, and when it does not, binds a shackle of fear on both peoples. Yet, we were chosen to deliver this message, as we are King Shiro's own advisers, and there is little we can do to reverse the edict for now. In time, perhaps; but our duty is to comply with Shiro's orders. We need no more trouble within our own borders.”
One of the village leaders stood up. “But to take away two out of three of our warriors – does Shiro not know we need people to work the fields and harvest them when the time comes? This would not only be our protection, but as much as half of our work force.”
There was not a single villager who disagreed. But Daki's worries were far different than that of the others. This Kai Kami, as he called himself, could certainly destroy the village if too many of the warriors left. And just like the one master had said, “We are not to be caught lying down, but standing in our battle armor, hand on our sword.” They had to be ready when Kai Mun came. The ghost, sooner of later, would destroy the village. And Daki was the only one that knew of Kai Mun . . . he had to warn them!
King Shiro's advisers tried as best they could to please the villagers with words, but the only thing that would really help was giving them time to process. Daki glanced from villager to villager. At last they seemed to be giving in. But they couldn't give in! He had to warn them. Tell them, Daki. Tell them now. Daki suddenly stood up on his chair. “Wait!”
A silence fell over the table. His parents gawked up at him. Miamichu hissed. “Sit down, Daki. Now.”
But he didn't. And finally, one of the village elders responded to him. “What is it, Little One?”
There was a taste of resentment in Daki's mouth. His mind seemed to swim, and his head flushed with heat. But he pressed on. He'd gone too far to turn back. He had to tell the truth now – to right the lie he had told Ty. “On Kinamar mountain, there's a ghost. I think I let it loose. And now I'm sure it's going to come here to destroy us all!” His voice cracked mid sentence.
An amused smile crossed the elders face. “We're talking adult matters now, please go along and play with the other Jinnas.”
“No!” Daki shouted. “I'm serious. There's some kind of demon after us!”
Looks of annoyance poisoned the many faces watching him. And they began to turn away, back to their business. They weren't believing him. They thought he was just some rude, fibbing child. That wasn't true! There really was something out to get them all. Why wouldn't they believe him for just a second?
“Are you all blind?!” Daki screeched. Miamichu gasped. Daisuke growled. The villagers murmured.
“THERE'S A DEMON OUT THERE!” Daki's head felt like it would explode. He felt his mother's grip on his arm that pulled him down from his chair and dragged him down the village street back to their home. He couldn't think straight, so the world just sort of swirled around him. She stuffed him inside and locked the door from the outside. She had not spoken a word; but she seethed. And that was worse than any number of rebukes.
Daki swung around and kicked at the air. Idiot. Idiot! He'd worked up his nerve after a day of cowardice, and then he'd blown it all. The village would probably never believe him again. What had he done? He'd made a fool of himself. Brought down more dishonor.
Beads of sweat ran down his hot forehead. He rested his temple against a wall and clamped his jaw. His hands clenched white. It was such a common feeling, this time magnified a hundred fold. It hurt every time. But this time, it hurt so much more. It hurt because he was a failure. A failure a hundred times over. A failure when there was no choice but to step up and succeed.
Post by Dmitri Pendragon on Oct 25, 2017 19:20:36 GMT
I like the armour's colour scheme. Normally I wouldn't have considered purple and pink, but it goes nicely with the rusty red and the gold. Overall, I think drawing lineless gives it a more realistic feel. Body proportions are probably the main part you need to work on.
Some time ago, I came across an image of Agen Kolar (the Zabrak who goes with Mace Windu to arrest Palpatine) and thought it looked quite like Cald, save for the hair colour.
Post by Warrior of Aror on Oct 31, 2017 19:24:39 GMT
Thanks. I agree on both points you made. It is more realistic, and thus harder to do. On body proportions: I tend to draw kids or teens more often, which means I make the character's head too large for an adult. Definitely something I need to work on.
Post by Ellron Silvertree on Nov 1, 2017 18:36:07 GMT
Also, something useful for me to remember is that necks are almost always shorter than you think. It's super easy to make them look elongated, so a good rule is to make it shorter than you think it should be, at least until you get a good feel for it. Great job though!
Post by Warrior of Aror on May 30, 2018 2:22:50 GMT
When I were a whaler lad, afore I were eighteen and turned pirate, I were employed as a rudderman ‘cause they saw I were learned in directioning and what-not, cause of me “privileged upbringin’”. Now we was trackin’ a fat piece ah blubber one brown day on the seas when the foreman cried out and pointed. All eyes turned up to see a small spurt o’ water on horizon. The oarsmen, twenty in both ah our boats, heaved to and I made a certain we was headed aright. The hills of white were heavin’ that day like the devil hisself were stirrin’ ‘em. We was nearly thrown out ah the boat. I had tied meself to the rudder knowin’ the seas was rough, and a lucky thing it were too, or I would a been breathin’ with the fishes. We stayed our course though the boats were creakin’ and the boat was half full of water, and a hard wind were in our faces and salt on our lips. The boat beside us were pushed aside by a mountain ah a wave, and after it disappeared over the wave none of us knew whether it had survived. They was at the merciless hands of the sea now, thought we. On we rowed against the ocean’s might with the whale dead in our sights.
Suddenly all the water round us burst into the sky as it were a volcano. Up came a whale into the air flying in foam. The beast turned our boat over. I were plunged into the water and held under by the boat. In me head I cursed the rope me hands had tied that morn. I was the only one stuck to the boat. There were water up me nose and I felt meself chokin’. By the chaos of the sea I were heaved up again, me noggin bashed agin the edge a’ the overturned boat. I were bleeding something ferocious and too dizzy to know me own name, but I clung under the shell of the boat and catched me breath.
Next thing I knew the whale struck again, and in a spin the rudder shattered off and dangled by threads of the rope, with me at the end, caught at the wrist. In the confusion I catched a hold a ‘nother rope. It were the javelin trailing behind in the water, which if you know anything of whalin’ you know is allas tied to the boat. The rope about me wrist were rippin’, so I took hold a the javvie and climbed hand over hand agin the whippin’ waters and came up like a fish. I dragged meself onto the underside a the boat, which now was the top, and all slippery-like from the slime that grows on it. I clung to the bow and stretched out with me javvie held to me chest. I saw corpses floatin’ like dolls in the water, driftin’ just all about. Ever soul that were on that boat but me had per’shd.
Now I clung to the boat in hold of me life. I witnessed for the first time the terror of the seas. Then I spotted that whale again, and there were but a single purpose in me mind, and that were to finish the job like a true whaler. I sat up on me knees and raised the javvie, and like a thunderbolt threw it straight for it. Waves flung up and I thought they’d spoil the shot. Then the rope went tight and I were pulled forw’rd with violent force. The javvie were stuck in, and I were clinging to the rope, and the boat too, and behind it the rudder skipping across the waves. The cold iron hook had sunk deep into its blubber, and the water turned red in its wake.
It were the wildest ride ah all me born days! The boat were skipping across white waves, or smashing through ‘em. I had to hold on like a vice to keep from being bucked; I did hold on ‘cause I wanted that beast so much. In two minutes we was a mile away already. But slowly the beast were drained ah spirit and ceased to move. It floated to the surface ‘cause all the gas in its belly. I let it lay floatin’ for a good while, and once I were sure it were dead I swam over using the javelin rope. I climbed on top the beast and unstuck the javvie after a deal of wigglin’. The beast were slain, and I stood upon it the victor.
But though I had won the prize fair and square, it were not yet mine. The smell ah blood is intoxicatin’ to a hungry shark, and in five minutes three o’ them came sneakin’ through the waters t’wards me. They nosed the whale and I thrust me javvie at their greedy eyes. None would ‘ave me prize exceptin’ me. All evening this went on – I on vigilant guard spying all the waters round me, striking swift and sharp when one got near. Two of them at once came on at what I reckon to be six o’clock, and I bloodied their pale layers of sea-rotten flesh. They turned their ragged fins away and went to find easier prey. It were then sunset, being in a northerly part of the world, coast ah Nova Scotia in September the 7th. I were on guard till the last ah the sun’s orange farewell were touchin’ the wave tips, and then I began to think to meself mayhaps there had ever only been two sharks. Naught had poked me whale in all this time.
It grew to that part of dusk where all things are gray and formless. I could hardly see whale from water. I were wondering to meself whether I might find a way to tip over me boat. Then out ah the water leaped the huge, five-hundred toothed shark straight for me! I fell back and it clamped down within an inch of me skull. It landed on the other side. I slipped as I tried to rise meself up, and next moment it jumped at me again, for sharks can turn on a dime in the water. It bit me toes this time, and I were nearly pulled under. But in one strike I gored its left eye with me javvie. I lost three of me best toes; that’s how come I be missin’ half me foot. But the shark were so maddened it flailed and snapped everywhere. I thrust once more and hit its pale mounds ah flesh at its throat. The monster splashed back into me boat and bit the rudder rope. With the rudder entangled round, it swam off and disappeared into the depths of the sea, and that were the end of him as far as I knew.
All night I set awake, holdin’ onto me burning toes and wonderin’ if whale blubber were edible for human folk, and if it had any quick healin’ properties. All night I sat there, and thinkin’ whether I would soon have to climb over to the boat after the whale sank. But I wouldn’t give the beast up. It were mine, and mebbe I would sink with it. Dawn was turnin’ the sky stone gray when I saw a little spot ah gold driftin’ me sight. I called out till I were hoarse and kep’ on squeaking and coughing even then. The gold dot would sometimes disappear for a few seconds and then reappear again. After the third time I were sure it were bigger than afore. Soon enough I heard oars splashin’, and then I saw a face at the bowsprit lit by the lantern. I waved me lantern to reflect the light. The other whalin’ boat hadn’t capsized. After they brought me on board they welcomed me as if I were a hero. I told them me tale twice and answered all their questions, and then they finally told me that they had searched most of yesterday and had given up all the crew for lost. They went back to land for the night, but woke early to start trackin’ that whale and claim revenge, only they found it had already been claimed! We tied up the whale and dragged her back back to shore. I were the town hero that day and half the week after too. There were even talk that me story made it back to England. I were paid double wages, too. Of course I knew I were a lucky dog, so I retired from whalin’ on me eighteenth birthday, or as near as I can reckon it, and took up a sensible career as a pirate.
Post by Warrior of Aror on May 30, 2018 2:48:26 GMT
Thank you! I think it came in a round about way from some videos of a pirate video game I watched earlier. I really liked the way the waves and skies were rendered. That got me to thinking of the old stories that might have been told between the crew on long nights underway. It just flowed out from there. I told myself the story in my head, quite out of whim, and then decided I would like to have it permanently, so I wrote it all out.
Post by Dmitri Pendragon on May 30, 2018 2:55:16 GMT
Fascinating! And the waves, then, are the centrepiece of the story? I noticed the emphasis on their description, and how they were an active player in the story rather than simply background movement, as can be tempting.
Post by Warrior of Aror on May 30, 2018 3:01:45 GMT
Yes, definitely an emphasis on the waves and the ocean. I think it was partly subconscious in my mind, but I'm very glad that it left that impression on you. That was the prime motivator for writing it. A certain aesthetic theme is often the driving force behind scenes I am most excited to write, and like the most having written them.
Post by Dmitri Pendragon on May 30, 2018 3:12:16 GMT
Hey, that's really interesting. The scenes I get excited about writing are the ones that show off interesting examples of relational dynamics—how people interact, and how those interactions are shaped by goals and common history and personality. I shall have to look carefully for your aesthetics in your book once you have finished the draft.
Post by Warrior of Aror on May 30, 2018 13:43:04 GMT
I haven't, actually, though I looked it up now and I see the parallels. I haven't read as many of the mainstream classics as maybe I should have. I read a lot of old books, but they're usually rather obscure. :P
Dmitri Pendragon: Elytra: Wait, it's actually referring to the oldest post on the Underground? (I never did chase that down in fact…)
Nov 27, 2019 19:32:25 GMT
Leilani Sunblade: Rose: Welcome to Whitehall/the new Underground! Glad to see you found your way here. As Elytra said, the riddle's pointing towards the old site and, specifically, a scavenger-hunt type game that WTB and CH set up when they first released the book
Nov 28, 2019 21:11:04 GMT
Leilani Sunblade: Sadly, the game is over, but we still have fun here.
Nov 28, 2019 21:11:16 GMT
Warrior of Aror: Let us sit round the hearth and tell stories of the lives we have lived these past moons! I myself have been working at a grand theater telling Bible stories from behind the scenes.
Feb 29, 2020 1:44:51 GMT