Stu vs NaNoWriMo: The Meteor

As promised here is an excerpt for the next chapter. It is almost all description, which at the moment I am unsure about and any comments or critisms would be greatly appreciated. Happy reading

The Meteor

Dusk was ever approaching as Etheracea’s two sons hovered low in the sky. To the north Isinia was a ball of molten brown trying to flee behind the Teseras Mountains. It was surrounded by deep oranges, purples and browns, silhouetting the tall peaks that acted as the Northern boundary of Etheracea. To the south, Osana too was heading for the horizon. A polar opposite to the warmth of Isinia, the southern skies were awash with deep greens and ice blues giving off a final chill. The final rays caught the strange rocks of Trillium Peak, causing it to sparkle in the early evening calm, like a lighthouse warning ships of the impending shore.

The night was a clear one. Stars and their constellations littered the sky, named millennia ago by the elves and passed on through generations to the humans that now inhabit this ancient land.

To Captain Tannock and the other sentries on the walls of Nethergale this was a familiar sight. Some looked to the heavens and wished for a change, others thought of lost loved ones. Most just took in the view as the day made way for night. Tonight however would be different. To the west one unfamiliar star shone brighter than the rest. It was also moving. Captain Tannock had heard of such a thing; a thing of legend, a shooting star. It was known that these fabled objects granted wishes to those who asked, but he didn’t believe in all that magic stuff. His sword and his men were enough for him to worry about.

This star was strange, not only was it getting brighter, but bigger. It lit up the skies more than any moon. A flaming arrow encased in fire as it headed for its target. Tannock was sure it would pass harmlessly overhead and crash somewhere far off to the east. It was not for him to worry where. His world was the castle or the barracks at Atol.

As it approached reds turned to brilliant whites as it burnt up and danced across the sky. More soldiers had joined Tannock, their gaze transfixed on the meteor. The captain noticed others below all looking to the skies. It was same all across Etheracea. Fisherman on Lake Theraya let their nets run heavy, travellers on the Nerum Plains fought to control their horses and mules and eagle riders stopped midflight as the ball of light exploded. Huge pieces of rock broke away, plummeting to the ground. Smaller fragments fell like hail stones setting fire to houses or buried deep in the countryside. Tannock was grateful the castle remained untouched along with the town below.

Out to the East the inhabitants of Tarak weren’t so lucky. The main body of the meteor passed over Etheracea getting swallowed up by the Mephista Duordina, the ocean that stretches out to the east. As a result a huge tsunami almost two hundred feet in height rose up and began speeding towards the coast. A pirate vessel was the first object to stand in the way of its watery vengeance. The crew didn’t stand a chance as the monstrous waves swept over the ship snapping the mast as one might snap a twig. Men were thrown overboard as the ship rode the crest of the wave to be carried off or drowned, finding peace in the watery depths. Wood splintered as wave after wave tore into the hull leaving just flotsam as it bore down on the cliffs of Tarak Isle.

Tarak Isle was also hit unawares. The Eagle Riders were unable to get down to the lowlands to warn its inhabitants. The angry and frothing seas met with the eastern cliffs of Tarak Isle just a few hours after the meteor struck, neither willing to give way. Outlying rocks, unmolested for millennia were cracked and obliterated under the onslaught. Spray shot high into the air to sprinkle the woodlands and plains on the coast.

The harbour town of Nelin was not so lucky. The waves sailed over the harbour walls. Wood, brick, boats were all swept away by the huge waves. They swept buildings aside dragging their occupants out to sea. Screams filled the air as the survivors headed inland to the highlands surrounding the Tarak Mountains. Some of the Eagle Riders headed out to, battling the coastal winds and rain in the search for survivors. Each one returned empty clawed.

A smaller fragment plummeted into Lake Theraya, super heating the surrounding water before finding a home deep on the lakebed. Steam bellowed from the crash site and dead fish were left cooking on the water’s surface. Here the waves were not as high, only a few small fishing boats were capsized and the outer harbour of Porthilla protected any moored boats from harm. The town’s inhabitants ventured out briefly to catch a glimpse of the steam rising far off in the west.

Captain Tannock had seen enough. Clapping his fellow sentries on the shoulder he felt it his duty, as the most senior officer, to report the night’s happenings to the king and council. Surely they would want a short report before heading to the Cavern Hall for supper. He took the steps two at a time as he descended the stairwell; the only sound that of his scabbard bouncing off his right thigh. He met few others as he entered a corridor on the second floor and made his way to the king’s rooms.  His shadow flickered in the torchlight. Very little natural light could be found here, even in broad daylight.

* * *

The final part of the meteor crashed amongst the icy peaks of the Teseras Mountains, melting ice and snow and adding fresh water to the small rivers that made their way south to Etheracea. Steam once again rose high into the sky though it remained hidden within the thick cloud that surrounded the mountains. Deep within the glacier its strange inhabitants materialised from caves and hollows. These grey skinned brutes were dressed in black pelts made from the fur of dire wolves, their feet strapped with strips of leather to protect themselves from the harsh landscape. The meteor was calling them; all of them. Males, females, old and young took up arms and began leaving their homes as if starting some great pilgrimage. By night fall the glacial tribes were all marching towards the crash site as if driven by some mystical power and as the suns disappeared almost two hundred Orgalath were braving the sleet and snow of the glacier. Most were on foot but some rode giant spider-like creatures, used by some to help farm snow covered slopes.

Stu v.s NaNoWriMo Day 6: Fight Scene

Well after a few days of no writing I am seriously lagging behind. This evening I was back with a vegence having written my first fight scene since my second year of uni. Back then I reinacted the battle Peter Jackson styly to check I wasn't doing anything impossible. I fully intended to do the same with this one but as it happened there was no need due to lack of moves. Yes it was a short one yet no less important and fleshed out with a spell, some description and even more inner monologging(?)

Here we go, enjoy and as always comments and critiscisms are most welcome

Shaken out his trance by his sons, the three made their way over the rubble and bodies. The edge of this brick is scorched and blistered. No catapult could have done this. I must get answers. I must find the king. Their progress down the stairwell was slow due to Nathal’s injury. As they descended; fighting could be heard on each floor, yet they found no conflict of their own, only corpses. I only see Etheran corpses and this strange green substance. Is it blood? Has the enemy suffered any loses and if so where are the bodies? I cannot stand all this confusion.

“Irmane, Nathal! In here no-” He was cut short as he opened a side door on the first floor. There confronting them was some huge armoured monstrosity.

The newcomer was fast, swinging his blade, slicing horizontally in an attempt to behead the elf. However Traemidan was quicker. Keeping his weight on his left side, he dived back towards the staircase, rolling and twisting together, coming up on one knee facing his attacker. However with no weapon he was defenceless. That thing’s huge! The monster emerged from the sunless corridor, stopping briefly to retrieve it’s sword that had become embedded in the beech door. Standing at over eight feet it dwarfed the three Etherans, its head and chest hidden by some strange amour, studded with what looked like blue emerald crystals. Its skin was a semi-translucent blue-green colour. Traemidan could see dark veins pulsating underneath.  

Seeing his father weapon less, Irmane let go of his brother and leapt forward, bringing his sword up to meet the creatures deadly thrust as his father backed away. The creature’s sword was made from a single piece of corral. Not a single join could be seen. As the blades met the air seemed to shimmer as if giving off some mystical energy. The force of the blow brought Irmane painfully to his knees and the blade fell from his grip. All he could do was clutch his injured arm as the creature prepared to strike again. Traemidan watched their eyes meet, knowing that without a weapon, he could do nothing. He tried to shout. Nathal! Help your brother... Irmane to me... Not a sound came out. Nathal, weapon forgotten, began to mutter something under his breath.

Fear gripped both father and son, paralysing them as the creature stabbed downward towards Irmane. No. The corral blade connected between the neck and collar bone, biting through mail, flesh and bone. All Irmane could manage was a sharp gargling noise as blood bubbled up through his mouth as he slumped to the floor. Relentlessly the beast unsheathed his sword from the half-elf’s body and turned on Traemidan. A second later the stairwell was flooded with a bright light and intense heat causing Traemidan to shield his eyes. Confused he saw the charred remains of the monster crumble to the floor. In an instant the dim conditions returned but the heat somewhat remained. He blinked successively, trying to bring moisture to his stinging eyes. It actually hurts to breathe.

As he stood he noticed Nathal, standing quite breathless where Irmane had left him. His right arm was outstretched with something small glowing in his balled up hand. Did my son do that? How? What manner of sorcery was that and what of Irmane? He rushed forward to Irmane, crouching down he scooped his body in his arms, cradling him to his chest. He was limp and cold. That look of fear still etched across his young face. At that moment his resolve vanished; he began to whimper and tears began to pool on the stone floor beneath him. It should have been me. He was just trying to protect me but it should have been the other way around. No longer will I hear his voice, see him test his skill in the yard, get to see the man he would become.

“Father?” A familiar voice. Distant.

“Father!” There it is again, but my son lies before me. Dead.

“Father! We must go, there will be many more after that and I am unsure I have the strength for a repeat performance.” Nathal was standing over his father, trying desperately to pull him up. Slowly Traemidan rose; not wanting to take his eyes off the body of his son, now lying in a pool of crimson. I will return and retrieve you my son. You shall find peace amongst the trees as your ancestors did. He turned away, glancing briefly at the creature’s charred remains before bringing his foot down on its skull, reducing it to ash.  I have never seen fire do this bone. Did the same thing happen to the walls of Nethergal?

Oh and an updated word count now has me at 1,691. Woohoo, just 49,309 words to go in just 24 days.

Stu vs NaNoWrimo: Day 2

Yes there are a few hours before day two officially ends but It's been slow going. I think I've done roughly around 910 words of very rough writing. I actually started this evening with a quick edit that added some emotion into my prologue. I also managed to get a few hundred words written during my lunch break as well. I really am in this for the long run it seems.


This evening was also good, I've introduced Traemidan's (POV for prologue) two sons and fleshed them out enough to hopefully leave the reader wanting more. I have just realised that in no such previous post have I mentioned my genre (reading the excerpt will give this away) or my target audience which is Young Adult. I'm calling it a night now though but not before I leave you with a little excerpt:

Suddenly the world around him came alive as if his hearing had just returned. Shouts and screams could be heard echoing through the corridors outside his room and the clash of metal on metal was ringing in his ears. Once again he tried to stand, his vision instantly blurring as he doubled over in pain, recovering just long enough to vomit down his green leather stockings. The stench of which did little to relieve the nausea. Traemidan took a moment to survey his once immaculate room lying in ruins. Shreds of his red silk drapes covered the floor soaking up a mix of blood and some green viscous substance he didn’t recognise. Other personal items lay smashed upon the floor and his gilded plate mail and long sword were missing. My father’s sword... gone. I must find the king.

He pushed himself once again to his feet, somehow managing to keep his balance as the pain in his head and right arm intensified. Slowly he edged towards the door, losing his footing more than once. He stepped over the unrecognisable forms of the soldiers, stopping briefly to notice something had torn out their throats, their swords still sheathed in their belts. Whatever killed these men must have caught them unawares. That’s not like any soldier of the king I know, what has occurred here? He made it to the doorway and although the corridor was deserted the castle was awash with noise; shouting and screaming what was that snarling sound. If pure evil had a voice he was sure that was it. The air was thick with the smell of burning wood. The castle was ablaze, though which part was unclear. A feint smile returned to the old elf’s face as he caught a glimpse of his two sons, emerging from a cross passage.

Irmane and Nathal were half –elves. Their mother was Etheran. Irmane, the elder of the two was taller and more muscular about the shoulder from his time spent sparring in the training yard. His jet black hair, matted with dried sweat and blood fell to his shoulders. In that moment he could not have looked any less like his elvish father. His chainmail had taken a battering and his broadsword, dripping more of that green viscous fluid seemed heavy in his right hand. His left was arched over his brother, helping him to walk. Nathal was the polar opposite of his brother, shorter with a more angular face like his fathers. He grimaced with every step; his librarians cloak slashed in several places and stained a deep red. Blood red! thought Traemidan.  

As if seeing their father for the first time, they quickened their pace, relief clearly showing on tired faces. As they embraced Traemidan let out yelp of pain in memory of his flailing right arm. Nathal stooped to inspect the injury but Traemidan pulled him up.

“What has happened here? Who attacked us? Where is the king?” His questions came tumbling out, not pausing for answers. Irmane untangled himself from his brother and placed a hand in the small of his father’s back and gave him a small nudge.

“Where have you been father, under a rock? That blow to the head must have affected you,” he replied urging his father forward yet always alert. What has my son so on edge, maybe I did take a fall. It would certainly begin to explain a few things. “We must get out of the city before we are totally overrun. Once free we should head west and warn the remaining garrisons of what has transpired here. Who knows how many Eagle Riders managed to escape.

The trio came to the stairs at the southern side of the castle. Fear gripped Traemidan as he noticed huge chunks of wall were missing. He stood transfixed, staring out at the world beyond the walls. The air was thick with smoke making it difficult to see much at all except the sky, and what a strange sight it was. Gone were the blue skies and wispy clouds he knew so well. They had been replaced by reds, purples and oranges. The sky is on fire, this must be some trick, an abnormal sunset perhaps.

Criticism, encouragement, pointers on how I can improve, I want it all. I keep thinking I can only get better. Now please excuse me as I'm off to watch Terra Nova, one of my guilty pleasures for American TV.

Stu vs The Synopsis

I'm never one to just jump right in or am I organised enough to actually plan to far ahead (strange as I'm a teacher but I digress)

So this morning I knocked up a quick synopsis for my NanoWrimo (I love saying that, it just roles off the tongue) novel. Yes it probably has more holes in it than Julius Caesar's corpse but it's a start and I'm sure it will change as I progress.

If anyone is interested here it is in all it's glory:

Synopsis

As a comet breaks up over the land of Etheracea, Traemidan, the last surviving Elf has a vision of a bleak future where mana once again fuels desires and strange creatures are laying waste to their lands.

He wakes to find his King has died and with Prince Garaan far off in the north he is unsure who to trust on the Council of Eldars. He dispatches his son's to take word to the Prince of his father's death and bring him home.

Upon his return and after the coronation Traemidan tells Garaanand the Council of what he witnessed in his dream. However they do not share his concerns and is removed from the council. The newly crowned Garaan Declares that under his rule the realm will be united once again and the garrisons of the north are to prepare for his arrival as he intends to lead a raiding party into the Tesseras Mountains and bring back the comet shard that fell there.

Not about to give up Traemidan sets out for Tarak Isle, where the king's brother, Wrain, commands the Eagle Riders, hoping for a better reception.

Traemidan's sons, Eliyan and Vrai, accompany the Garaan into the mountains where they come up against the Orgalath clans who have claimed the comet shard for themselves. Something in the rock has changed some of the creatures physiology and the Etherans' are crushed in the mountain passes. Garaan, Eliyan, Vrai and small group of soldiers are captured but not before word is sent to Tarak Isle where the Eagle Riders mount a rescue attempt.

The rescue is a success and the Etherans' make off with a part of the comet which is given to the Eldars for study. This research leads to the discovery of mana in the rock and begins to corrupt the Eldars who in turn begin to lead Garaan down a dark path that involves the capture of Traemadin and his sons. King Garaan then holds a series of tournaments in his own honor where Eliyan and Vrai witness the death of their father but are rescued along with the mysterious Flo'Rina by the Eagle Riders.

Now I have work this afternoon but I really want to have written my prologue by tomorrow. I'm feeling very ambivolent about this whole project right now.

Stu vs Campaign Cartographer 3

Now I can draw, I'm not an artist but when I put pencil to paper the finished product looks vaguely like it should. However I wanted to create a really authentic and cool (emphasis on the cool) looking map to show the world of Etheracea. I had a go at doing a hand-drawn version which, although ok, didn't cut the mustard.

So I went searching for a little help. Now I have no arty friends but have found the next best thing. A user friendly computer programme that does it for you. A case of drag and drop. Well it arrived in the post this morning. I have installed it and as I have an hour or so to kill will be giving it a test run. I will be placing a few of my efforts here and on my website (if they turn out good that is).

Time to get my geek on.

P.S. Just watched a new American show called Revenge. Suffice to say it was very good, will be tuning in again.