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| Thread: My original fan fictions - redone! | |
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2XtremeToTake
Promising
Supreme Hero
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posted February 25, 2008 10:22 AM |
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My original fan fictions - redone!
While revisiting this site, I looked apon some of my old "quality" threads. A couple that stood out were my fan fictions, which I had thought incredibly good at the time. Now, I laugh at them. Great ideas, poor execution. So, I will rewrite them for comparison.
The first was my "Life & Death" story, a story about a unfortunate peasant, taking place during the HoMM3 era. It was written on August 5th, 2002. I was 12 years old at the time. Here is a link to the original post.
Life & Death ( a Fan fiction story)
I'll be reposting them in the same format I did in the original, in segments. I'm writing them as I go, with minimal editing or reviewing. So, without further adeiu, here is the first part.
It was an ordinary morning, I woke up, let the pigs out of my dwelling, and headed towards the fields for another excruciating day of work. I had had an extradonary dream the previous night, where I was an glorius knight, serving in the army of Queen Catherine. However, it was just a dream. I told myself the same thing that I had told myself every morning - that I was a mere peasant, destined for nothing greater than a meaningless death. Even if I was sent to fight in some sort of war, it would be as a militia conscript, and only out of neccessity. I would die, and my meaningless existance would cease to exist. Oh, how wrong I was.
As I set towards the fields, I heard a joyful music, one typically accompanied by a festival. I couldn't recall anything being scheduled, so I headed towards the festivities, and saw a parade. One of Erathia's greatest champions, Sir Christian, had returned after a lengthy, yet successful military campaign against the vile undead and demons. As I fitted my way into the crowd, I heard rumors of him seeking more soldiers for his army, to begin yet another campaign. I felt a pang of wishful thinking, which was washed away by the rest of the gossip.
Over the next few days, the festivities were highlighted by Christian selecting the top classes of various military schools. He only selected the best. The best jousters, our most accurate marksmen, and our most valiant swordsmen. An elite stock of gryphons had been bred specifically for this purpose, and they too were included into his army. The jealousy was driving me insane, and I abandoned the festivities to return to work in my fields.
The anger and jealousy at my position drove me to a frenzy unlike that of which I had ever experienced before. I decided if I was going to remain a peasant, I would be the best damn peasant there was in all of Erathia. Perhaps my diligent work would one day be noticed, but it was doubtful. As Sir Christian and his new army began to leave, the road led them past my farm, he stopped, seeking supplies for his journey.
"Who here tends to these farms?" he bellowed out. I stumbled up to him, and managed to squeeze the words out of my mouth. "I-i-i do, sir" he had a heroic presence about him, one not noticed from a distance, but felt within ones bones up close. I began feeling unworthy of his presence, but his voice calmed me. "You have done a good job. These fields are well tended to, some of the best farmed in the land. Your lord has given me permission to take crops for my journey. I trust you will gather me an adequate bunch?" I felt flattered, and stared dumbly for a second before regaining my composure. "Thank you milord, and yes, me and my companions will gather our finest crops" and off we went.
Hours later, we returned with barrels full of the freshest vegetables - carrots, tomatoes, anything that I grew, I gave. As Christians men loaded the goods onto their mules, Christian hopped off his horse and led me off, alone. He spoke reassuringly "You have served your country well. Such hard work deserves a reward, despite what your lords may say. Name your price, and you shall have it. Your freedom, perhaps? I could buy it for you, along with enough gold to get you started on your own, perhaps as a merchant?" Stunned, I scrambled to think of a reply. I didn't want to sound greedy, but I didn't want to be underpaid as well. "I've always aspired to be a soldier in the queens army" I manged to mumble out. Instead of acting surprised, Christian simply nodded. "I am bringing along a regiment of volunteer peasant militia, for workload reasons mostly, but if the need to fight arises, I trust you will be there?"
So, hours later, I was abandoning my farm for what would be forever. Yet, I was not depressed. I would show Christian my valor in combat, and perhaps even receive formal training. After all, sword fighting couldn't be that hard, could it?" Our travels over the next few weeks became less than ideal, no sign of demons, undead, or any other sort of foul beasts anywhere. The long walks ripped away at my fortitude and strength, and I felt as if I was about to collapse at any time. We traversed through deserts, wastelands, and other barren places. The food I had provided soon became scarce, and we had to ration it.
After what had seemed like eternity, we stopped. We had come to a mountain, with a small pass carved within. It was eerily quiet, then we heard a terrifying screech and a wailing scream, as we turned around and saw several of our men being ripped off their horses, off their feet, twelve, thirty, sixty feet into the air by enormous dragons. Then they dropped them, and their bodies crashed to the ground with a sickening thud. Some didn't even make it to the ground, and were torn to shreds in midair.
"BATTLE FORMATIONS!" screamed Christian, as the soldiers fumbled for their weapons. The dragons screeched overheard, breathing down burning flames onto us. Everywhere I looked was chaos, and I was at a loss for what to do. I had expected my first battle to be against lowly goblins, imps, or orcs, but most certainly not dragons! I had my measly pitchfork, which was next to useless against the tough, scaly hides of a dragon. "Archers! On my mark!" commanded Christian, and when I looked up, I saw hundreds of arrows soar into the air, striking the dragons. It grounded several, piercing their vulnerable inside wings, and rendering them unable to fly. However, they were as big of a threat on the ground as in the air.
Our champions were the first to go in, they charged in, valiantly, on their steeds, attempting to pierce the dragons heart. I saw the dragons begin to fall slowly, some dead, many more enraged. Scorching flames were everywhere, and the heat was beginning to make me dizzy. I was unsure of whether I should fight or not, and my cowardice took the better of me, as I hid behind the lines. I watched the fight go on, and it appeared we were actually winning. There was a reason Christian selected these elite groups, for only well trained soldiers could take down a pack of dragons. I saw one dragon approaching our archers, only to be felled by a courageous Pikeman, who scaled the dragons spiny ridges on his back, and drove his pike straight into the dragons eye, killing it instantly. The brave soldier would never live to celebrate his achievement, as when the dragon fell, it crushed the frail human body under several tons.
I saw the battle winding down, and our soldiers cornered the final two dragons, smaller ones. These ones were younger, and had a more reddish tint to them, as opposed to the black ones we had fought. Christian himself went into the face of the dragon, and appeared to actually be conversing with them. After a while, he announced that the two dragons claimed to be enslaved by their black brethren, corrupted by the malicious demons, and were forced to fight. He also announced that they would accompany us as we marched to meet the demon armies. There were many outcries from the men, demanding their execution. Many had lost friends, brothers, fathers, and sons in the battle, and wanted no part of these dragons, regardless of their agenda. Some even suggested that they be skinned alived, and their hides used to fashion new armor. However, Christian would have none of it. Weary, he began walking towards us.
He pulled me to the side, much like the day I had first met him. However, this time, he was much more somber. "Food stocks grow short, and I need powerful, able, trained warriors for where I am about to go. I'm afraid we can no longer take you, or the other militia with us any longer. We have to preserve and ration as many of our food stocks as possible. I'm entrusting you in charge with these men. Lead them back to your village. Tell deeds of your valor, and you all are now free men. Again, I am sorry for this, but it must be done." He turned around, regarding me with a sad look on his face, and he rallied his army up, and began marching north. Me and the other militia stood in awe, amongst the battlefield of dead bodies, dragons and humans alike, wondering what was in our future.
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I almost had a psychic girlfriend but she left me before we met.
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2XtremeToTake
Promising
Supreme Hero
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posted February 25, 2008 10:55 PM |
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Pt 2.
My companions and I wandered for days, searching for some form of shelter, or food. The small provisions Christian left us were dwindling, and we were hopelessly lost. I was charged to lead us back to civilization, but had failed. We had to do something, or we would surely perish.
After a few days, we caught a pungent scent in the wind. The smell of rotting flesh. Hours later, we heard the sounds of the dead. The wailing ghosts, the dreadful undead steeds trotting, each hoofbeat making the earth herself recoil. We were petrified, and unaware of what to do. And even later, they came into sight. There was nowhere to hide, for we were on a wide open plain, with nothing in sight for miles. They were a terrible bunch, mass amounts of human, orc, demon, ogre, and any other skeleton. The wraiths hovered along, almost pitifully, as if they were unwillingly bound to their form. The walking corpses took up the rear, dragging their heavy weight with them. My adventure had finally come to an end, and it wasn't in a glorious battle, for I was about to be devoured by the legions of undead approaching us. I kneeled down and began to pray to the angels, although futile.
The army stopped when noticing us, and a hooded figure walked up to us. When he spoke, he echoed himself, as if speaking with two seperate voices. "Rise, and look at me. You aren't in danger...yet..." I looked up, trembling, fearful of what I was about to see. I saw nothing in this strangers hood, and I didn't want to see anything. "Confusion...despair...hopelessness...anger...you desire revenge..." spoke the hooded figure, as if he was reading my mind. "W-w-who are you?" I stuttered out, finding my knees were seconds away from giving out. "I am known as Sandro, and this...I mean these," he pointed behind him at the undead, some who seemed unaware of my existance, and others who were eyeing me as if I was to be a delicious meal "these are my men...I know you seek revenge on the one who abandoned you and your men here. Come with me! Join me, and when I conquer Erathia, I will place you as king! You will have all of the riches and power that was wrongly denied to you. Help me, and your loyalty shall be rewarded!" I was taken aback by this offer, something was going on here that the necromancer was holding back. "Why are you offering me this? If you wanted, you could just slay me right here and raise me as one of them!" I notioned behind to the zombies, who were still standing there, in a near vegatative state. "Yes, I could. However, I need living spies to serve my purposes. What better than a lowly...peasant?" He replied, with a grin.
This approach struck me as odd. I had always considered the undead as mindless, raving enemies. However, this one had plans, could formulate strategies, and much more. I really had no choice in the matter, if I refused I would be slain on the spot, however, if I accepted, perhaps the necromancer was telling the truth. Maybe this was the greater power I was destined for. With some hesitation, I accepted. My companions and I soon discovered, that traveling with undead made life even more unpleasant. The stench permeated our nostrils every waking hour of every day. Any second, it felt as if we were going to be turned on and ripped to shreds. I tried staying close to Sandro, as I felt safer around him than the armies he carried with him.
Around midday, a wraith materialized in front of Sandro, delivering a message. Humans were approaching from behind, rapidly. Apparently they had been chasing us for quite a while now. Sandro took the news calmly, and without concern. We had about six hours time till they got to us. Plenty of time to set up mediocre fortifications and traps. We began digging assorted pitfall traps, and one I hadn't seen before - we began burying several of our troops, apparently to give the impression that we had a weaker army. The sun began to set, and I saw the first glimpse of the human army. They approached cautiously, as we waited. As they grew closer, I began to reconize some of the faces...then, I saw him. Sir Christian, albeit with a much smaller army, and the dragons were gone as well. My mind swirled with mixed emotions. I desired revenge, but not taken in the form of an undead horde. If I deserted, Christian would surely lose this battle against our superior numbers. But to them, it appeared this would be an easy victory.
The arrows soared overhead, hitting some of us, killing several of my starved companions. The zombie's slow moving corpses absorbed many of the arrows, but they kept on going. Many arrows simply missed the wraiths, who phased partially out of reality in order to miss them. Then came the ground troops - the champions and swordsmen. Many fell through the, horses and men alike. When they crossed the threshhold, the bulk of our army popped up and so began a massacre. The legions of undead devoured at the human army, tearing them to shreds, chewing on their corpses with a unholy fervor, unlike any I had ever seen. I looked towards Christian who was fighting not undead, but the rest of the peasants. He was slaughtering them down, one by one, despite their pleads for help and forgiveness.
Rage filled my heart, now not only had he abandoned us, but now he was slaughtering us in cold blood. I picked up the spear from a fallen human warrior and launched it in his direction, it drove right into Christians heart, knocking him off of his steed. In my first combat action, I had felled one of Erathias most hallowed heroes. Now, it was time to finish what was mine. I walked over towards him, listening to his shortened breaths. I reveled in the kill that was about to come. Ironic, I thought, that his demise was caused by one he had brought out here so far, and then left to die. When he caught sight of me, his eyes widened, and he realized what he had brought apon himself.
"Where are your dragons to save you now?" I mocked. "Oh, the militia, never good for anything, except manual labor. Well, lets see what you think of me now!" I raised the spear high above Christians head, then felt a searing pain in the back of my head. I felt the top of my forehead and felt a long wooden protrusion sticking way out, then suddenly it was repealed, the jagged end ripping out whatever was in its path.
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I almost had a psychic girlfriend but she left me before we met.
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2XtremeToTake
Promising
Supreme Hero
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posted February 26, 2008 05:21 AM |
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Any comments? Could I at least get a courtesy post so my post limit doesn't keep decreasing?
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I almost had a psychic girlfriend but she left me before we met.
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william
Responsible
Undefeatable Hero
LummoxLewis
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posted February 26, 2008 05:25 AM |
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I must say, that for 12 years old, you had good writing. Nice work. Also posting this so your post count doesn't go down 
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~Ticking away the moments that
make up a dull day, Fritter and
waste the hours in an off-hand
way~
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Mytical
Responsible
Undefeatable Hero
Chaos seeking Harmony
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posted February 26, 2008 07:47 AM |
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Very good stories. Yeah, I have similar problems. Start posting something, and nobody replies (or stops replying after a bit) and stop so as to not negatively impact my posting. Just give me an HCM 'nudge' and I will help you with that (if I forget). On days I am active (not too active on wed/thur) I will try to post some feedback after each of your posts here  .
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Message received.
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2XtremeToTake
Promising
Supreme Hero
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posted February 26, 2008 01:34 PM |
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Quote:
I must say, that for 12 years old, you had good writing. Nice work. Also posting this so your post count doesn't go down
Heh, thanks, but going over the old stories is laughable, you could definitly tell it was written by a 12 year old. It was more like I was telling the story to a group of friends, rather than actually trying to tell a good story.
Thanks for the feedback though - part 3 coming today.
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I almost had a psychic girlfriend but she left me before we met.
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Mytical
Responsible
Undefeatable Hero
Chaos seeking Harmony
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posted February 27, 2008 07:18 AM |
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Looking forward to part 3. Looking back things always seem different. Sometimes you see them as better then they were, sometimes worse. Personally I think these are very good, so keep up the good work.
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Message received.
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2XtremeToTake
Promising
Supreme Hero
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posted February 27, 2008 09:43 PM |
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Part 3
I slowly opened my eyes, trying to recall what had happened. It seemed like I had been asleep for decades. I sat up, and looked around. My clothing was bloodied, I had scars and bruises everywhere, and my skin looked rather pale. But I felt different, somehow. I couldn't quite place it. I stood up slowly and looked around, slowly recalling the events of the battle. Dead bodies and assorted limbs lay scattered everywhere. Already, the vultures and flies had begun to swarm in to enjoy their feast.
I looked around for a familar face, and saw Sandro standing in the middle of the battlefield, with his hood off, and his skeletal face was undoubtedly grinning. I couldn't figure out why, until I saw him bend down and pick up something. A moment later, I reconized it as the head of Sir Christian, complete with an agonized look on his face. Sandro laughed and threw it into a pile of dead bodies, where the zombies had begun to feast. Suddenly, I felt a sharp pang of hunger, but couldn't place for what. Sandro noticed me rising, and pointed over to a band of humans, who had apparently surrendered. They were bound and gagged, some bleeding profusely.
I slowly walked over to them and examined them thoroughly, they seemed frightened of me, and seemed to cower in fear, a fear I could almost taste. My hunger grew stronger, and the smell of blood was suddenly very appealing, almost tauntingly. The humans kept staring at me, some in shock and awe. I soon realized they were staring at my forehead, and I slowly reached up and felt. I felt a hole, going all the way from one end to the other. I touched it, but felt no pain. There was no blood, no fluids. Then, uncontrollable, I lunged out at the nearest human and attacked him, forcing him to the ground. I sunk my teeth into his throat and began to drink, and I drank. I felt my body coming alive again, I felt warm, I felt pleasure, and I felt satisfied. The other humans squirmed as they tried to get away from me, but one by one I did the same thing, until I felt I could hold no more.
When I finished, I realized I had just killed and fed on not one, not two, not even three, but seven humans total. And I didn't feel a single pang of guilt, but pure pleasure. The events of the battle were recalled, and my mind felt clear and focused. I felt up for the hole again, only to realize it was no longer there. My scars and bruises had all but dissappeared. Sandro walked over to me, with an amused look on his skeletal face. "You fought bravely, your anger fueled you, and you were robbed of a kill that should have been rightfully yours. I could have brought you back as one of them," He nodded his head over to the corpse pile, where the zombies were feeding without restraint, blank eyes and faces. I reconized some of the faces as the other peasants, and nodded. "But, I made you a promise. When we finish, all of this land will be yours. You will be made lord of this land, answerable only to me. However, there is a drawback...you must feed consistently, or you will become one of THEM" He jestered over to the wights, and wraiths. Etheral spirits, with tormented looks on their faces. They were the truly damned, they were the deprived undead, the ones who had failed to feed, and their spirits lost the connection with their bodies. They were the ones whos bodies had been destroyed so horribly, that bringing them back as a spirit was the only option. They had control of their thoughts and mind, but not their spirits.
"Now come, we must get back to our town before reinforcements arrive. We don't have enough to support another fight." Sandro led me to an undead steed, its royal blue saddle stained in the blood of its former rider and it self. Its leg was crudely reattached, but it would hold. I mounted up on it and followed closely behind Sandro. As we trekked on, I began to notice several changes. For one, the stench of the undead that had bothered me for so long was no longer noticable. My senses had been magnified tenfold, I could see farther in the distance, I could smell the prisoners we carried along for food, despite them being in the back. I heard their muffled screams and pleas for helm. And then, when we began to approach a hill, I felt a strange tingling sensation, coming from what seemed like the air. It grew stronger and stronger as we got closer, and it made me curious. I smelled something, but it was unlike the smell of the humans. Sandro seemed to notice it as well. "A powerful mage approaches. That tingling sensation you feel is the magic you feel. A mage can turn that lingering magic into something quite harmful or, or something quite beneficial."
As we approached the foot of the hill, we saw him. He was an old, bearded man, with an army of wretched little creatures, and animated stone. I reconized the man as Astral, who was regarded in my village as a cheap conjurer of tricks, perhaps even slightly insane. But no longer did he have a fools look on his face. It was quite serious, on the contrary. His voice boomed through the air, as if amplified and echoed off the air. "TURN AWAY, NECROMANCER. THIS PATH IS NOT YOURS TO TAKE. TAKE YOU AAND YOUR FOUL ARMY AND LEAVE THIS PLACE NOW." Sandro scoffed. He gave the order, and we charged up the hill. The small creatures hurled metal boulders at us, crushing a few in their path. The stone golems moved at a slow speed, much like our zombies. I flew off my mount and landed in the midst of the gremlins. They frenzied away, but one by one I began to tear them apart, ripping their fragile limbs out. I didn't even notice the weather beginning to change, and a deadly storm appearing over our army. Lightning began to rain down from the sky, as did gigantic flaming balls of fire. Meteors and lightning rained everywhere, and the earth began to tremble. But in my killing frenzy, I didn't stop until every last of the gremlins was dead. Every time I was harmed, their blood would simply replenish my wounds.
Alarmed, Astral began to flee, like the cowardly fool he was. I turned around to face Sandro, to gloat about the victory, only to see his headless body fall off of his steed, and crumble into ashes as it hit the ground. I saw his head rolling along, with a blank expression on his face. Much of our armies were incinerated, and the storm calmed. All was quiet for a second, when a giant face appeared from the top of the hill. It rose in size as it walked up, and there were several more trailing him. Titans climbed up the hill, wielding what seemed like lightning bolts themselves. Astral trailed them. When the giants rose to the top of the hill, I was staring at its big toe. They didn't seem to notice me, yet.
I quickly tried to fly off, but the movement caught the attention of one. Frantically flying, I dodge one lightning bolt after the other. Instead of coming from the skies, they were coming from behind, my sides, and in every direction. I dodged the second, the third, the fourth. However, the fifth was unavoidable.
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Keep in mind these rewrites were written completely as I went along. I did absolutely no spelling, grammar, or any other sort of editing. I also had to change quite a few things from the original story, including editing out some of the more ridiculous parts, such as the "drinking" part. I tried making sense of some of the things that didn't really make sense in the original, such as being raised as a skeleton, despite dying only several hours earlier.
I hope you guys enjoyed them, and if the feedback is positive enough, I will rewrite my other story - Life of an Efreeti.
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I almost had a psychic girlfriend but she left me before we met.
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2XtremeToTake
Promising
Supreme Hero
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posted February 29, 2008 12:34 AM |
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Alright, can I get actual criticism now? Point out my flaws, things that were exceptionally good and bad.
Trying to improve my writing skills some, so I didn't do this completely for everyones entertainment
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I almost had a psychic girlfriend but she left me before we met.
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2XtremeToTake
Promising
Supreme Hero
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posted March 02, 2008 04:37 AM |
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I guess not.
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I almost had a psychic girlfriend but she left me before we met.
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Mytical
Responsible
Undefeatable Hero
Chaos seeking Harmony
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posted March 02, 2008 06:32 AM |
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Edited by Mytical at 06:35, 02 Mar 2008.
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Ok, maybe one of the worst people to give pointers *shrug*. However, might want to try a little more 'flavoring'. I tend to describe things too much, but a little more description of things might help here. The mood of the place is almost as important as the mood of the people.
Remember to try to avoid starting too many sentances with the same word. Especially words like the, I, ect. Give me some time to peruse and I may be able to help out . Just remember to give me some time  .
Edit : I really like the stories and you show great promise. Just remember that though I will help as much as I can, I don't get on much on wed/thur EST. Patience is a virtue .
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Message received.
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