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| Thread: Family Ties |  This thread is pages long: 1 2 3 · «PREV / NEXT» |
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gnomes2169
Honorable
Undefeatable Hero
Duke of the Glade
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posted March 23, 2011 11:06 PM |
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Chapter two
Jarod
Do you know what it is like to have nothing? no friends, no family, not even a dog? The stars themselves are robbed from you because the city is ever lit, ever bright. Sleep is stolen from hunger and fear. You don't shut your eyes, thinking, what if the next scream is mine? Of course you don't. If you are reading this, you probably had a home, friends, family, a sponsor, something. You were well fed, or at least never went hungry for a week on end.
On the off chance that you were like me at one point, then you know what I mean by saying that you are always in a state of perpetual terror. Everyone and everything is an enemy, the other homeless, the gangs, the baker, even the guards. Now, you might think that the guards are "Good guys", protectors of the weak and homeless. In truth, they are worse then the gangs. A guard who gets it into his head that either the less fortunate are a threat or that the homeless are a plague sometimes have crusades against us. You live knowing that every night someone might decide that you are more of a threat then a human or elf or dwarf. And it gets to the point where you think of your death as inevitable. In fact, I remember at one point that there was a guard who went through my alley, killing everyone that she walked past, and I just thought to myself, Why don't I just stay down here? Why don't I just let myself die?
If you truly have lived a live even remotely like I did for nine and a half years, then you understand that you lose the will to eat. You lose the will to breath. You lose the will to live. Fortunately for me, and all of us, I found something to cling to. Her name was Fetcher.
As far as cats go, Fetcher was one of the ugliest, toughest and smartest cats to have ever lived. She was a mass of scars, gray and silver fur and feral fighting spirit. One ear was damaged by a bite that she had gotten during a scuffle in an alley. Her tail was broken in two separate spots and there were multiple spots of missing fur on her. By the time we met, my mind was in about the same state. The rages had been coming more and more frequently as I started to care less and less about my life and the lives of all the other beings in the city.
Fetcher was my tie to sanity.
We had worked out a system between us, she knocked things like pies and bread from windowsills, and I kept her warm and well fed in the makeshift and hidden corner between three buildings. There were to many crates to look through, and two of them were connected so that I had room to curl up in some kind of shelter with the crudely fashioned burlap blankets that I had made. I will admit that I loved that little cat.
One day, about a week or so after a new block in Fenerie was opened up, Fetcher was moving somewhat slower then usual, she was sort of wider around the middle as well. "Don't get fat and lazy on me, little lady." I told her as we made our new home in the newer, wealthier, part of the city. "We might not be so badly off, but hey! We still need to be ready to run..."
She gave a painful sounding mew. It made me smile to know that she was at least the same as usual.
When we got to a part of the city next to the park that I had scouted out before, I set Fetcher down. "Let's find ourselves a nice, new home, eh girl? Fetch!" She ran out, excited and holding her tail as high as she could, even though it was impossible to keep it straight. She found a place in the mostly empty alleys that actually had some new, water-tight crates that were apparently good enough. We saw no other beggars or cutthroats in the street in our search. As far as I know, we were the only two in the new block.
I broke two of the boxes and put everything I had in them, which included three burlap blankets, one more (stolen) pair of pants, and a coin pouch filled with the nation's currency that had come from guards who I'd killed.
After that, I made myself look as pitiful as possible. It wasn't too hard, since I was rail thin, had my ribs easily visible and sunken eyes. Filth that I had made sure to carefully maintain so that I was desperate but not repulsive. In this shining new section of the city, I stood out like a sore thumb. Absolutely pitiful, and defenseless. How wrong they would be.
For five months, we lived pretty much the same as before. Even though we were the only beggars on the street, barely anyone noticed or cared about me. No more so then they had before, at least. Then, one day, Fetcher just, disappeared. I looked for her for a total of three days. Apparently, people only care about the desperate, because I made twenty times more in that one day then I had before. I didn't care. I had to find Fetcher. She was somewhere. She wouldn't just abandon me.
I did find her. On the day of my thirteenth birthday, at least, that is what I was told later, I saw her dodging rocks thrown by some of the civilian's children. Fetcher yelped each time a rock hit her, and I couldn't do anything but watch.
"Come on you ugly kitty kitty." The oldest child said, I guess that he was thirteen. "Get away from my house you stupid little vermin." He threw another rock that bounced off of her. But still, Fetcher wouldn't leave. The kids didn't stop throwing either.
I marched up to them, the little match stick that I was, and began to yell things that I can't remember now. A few of the kids stopped. One of them even said, "This isn't fun anymore guys, I'm going home." But most of them ignored me and kept throwing the rocks at my only friend. And then fetcher didn't dodge fast enough, and a rock smashed into the back of her head. "Yeah, take that you little rat!" The ringleader jeered, throwing another rock at Fetcher's still body. "And that! And-" He stopped talking when I grabbed his arm. "What do you think-"
My world went red.
When I regained control almost ten hours later, I was holding fetcher's body protectively to my chest, crying without caring who saw. I don't actually know how long it took me to hear them, but after a while, a little fuzzy paw tapped against my hand. I looked up, or down as the case was, and saw four little kittens who had crawled out of an empty crate. Fetcher's kittens. Then I saw what was around me.
I must be the luckiest curse magnet to ever exist, because no one saw that butcher site. The once white and clean alleyway was stained red and littered with the children's bodies. The kittens had little spots of red on them as well. The closest one, a little black and brown tabby, patted my hand and mewed pitifully again. I picked them all up and put them in the cleanest crate that I could find. I buried Fetcher in the park. I gave her the best grace that a godless demon-child could, and then I ran to the river.
I washed myself as best I could and then started working on the kittens. A guard passing by noticed what I was doing and, after looking in the crate, gave me a cruel smile. He kicked the crate into the river. "Oops."
I was instantly in the river, swimming as quickly as I could to catch up with the crate. I was barely able to keep afloat. I did manage to catch up, and pulled myself as far over to the road's edge that I could. I was able to clutch at the rock and dirt siding, but not grab it. I began to sink under with the kittens, but I wouldn't, couldn't let go.
And then, I a felt a hard crushing force stomp down on my hand. someone grabbed my crate, and then grabbed the back of my shirt. Someone in metal. Water spilled out of the crate and my lungs as I lay there coughing and sputtering, clutching my crushed hand, I heard the kittens protesting being so wet and cold. A strong, deep voice asked me, "Are you alright, boy?" I looked up at a man dressed in a decorative full-plate suit of armor. "Boy?" I recognized the symbol of Zerol, God of Knowledge and balance.
A quick note for all on the temples and gods, never steal from the dark gods. The gods of light don't care for temples, as they would much rather be out helping the needy the gods of balance don't care as long as you actually need the money, but the gods of darkness always, always made you pay, drop by drop. Sometimes the revenge came in the form of a drunkard, other times their influence was much more obvious. Sometimes I wake up gasping, hearing the yelps of possessed hounds.
Knowing that the man was a paladin sent a wave of irrational fear through me, even though he was the reason why I and the kittens were still alive. I tried to stand up and run, but found that my hand was broken and that my ankle was twisted. The knight grabbed me by the shoulder and picked up the crate. "Trying to save ourselves some pets, are we? Haha, you're lucky that I was around and not Kieth. Lazy swaggering pompous fool would have let you drown. What's your name boy?" He asked without warning.
"J-Jarod, sir?"
He smiled kindly. "No need to be afraid, little one. No one is going to hurt you. Not if I have any say in it. Do you have a last name?" I mutely shook my head. "Hmm. Any reason why you're risking your life for some small, fuzzy, albeit cute, creatures?" I shrugged. "Interesting little child..." We walked through the threshold of the temple and a strange look crossed his face. "Interesting child you are, indeed, Jarod without any last name."
that is where Espen found me. But that was later.
Simon
It was only a week before my ninth birthday, and father was giving me my last practice lesson before I was sent to the Test. Officially, the Test in the Shurshian- sorry, dark elven society, is in place to "Make our youth stronger and better."
All of us in the lower classes know better. The "Nobles" just want a cheep source of entertainment and yet another way to show their "Superiority." And it worked. The well fed nobles and their elite, well trained troops could butcher any resistance that the peasants could possibly muster. My father could have killed ten, maybe twelve of them alone, but not three hundred. So despite his skill and fame, I and my siblings still had to go through the test. We all passed beyond expectations, but I and everyone that goes through them would rather have not done this Test at all. There is no such thing as choice for us. But more on the Test later, when I'm in it.
I knew the tip of this ice burg as a nine year old boy, but nowhere near the full scope of it. I knew that everything that my father was teaching me would give me an amazing advantage over the others in the Test, but I wasn't told the specifics. When I had asked my father this one year or another, he told me, "The sick mind-game that they play with us changes year from year. Now eat your soup." He hadn't told me anything else and refused to say anything more, unless it was a warning. Father's favorite warning was a variation of, "Because of who I am, your Test will be far harder than the other contestant's Tests. Eat you soup."
I realize how often father reminded me to eat my soup now that I think about it...
Back to the subject at hand. Father had trained me for three years of my life with every kind of weapon and tactic imaginable, and like the good student I am, I surpassed all of his expectations and all of his plans. Really, I was just getting better acquainted with handling pain, I wasn't too good with any of the weapons yet and my father gave me quite a few good lumps, and I was honing my fledgling weapons skills in between laying on my back and seeing stars. Good times...
----
Simon was staring up at the ceiling, silent, eyes distant...
"Um, Simon?" Raison asked when the dark elf was silent for a full minute. He didn't respond, lost in his memories of his family. Simon's trance was broken when Jarod elbowed him in the eye. A short brawl broke out that forced the priest to grab all of his stuff and move to a different table for fear of the two accidentally ripping the parchment.
It ended when Richard stopped laughing. Both of them looked up from under their separate piles of crushing crystal at the psyonic amused and annoyed. "I almost got the little pointy eared bugger!" Jarod complained.
"I almost had the drunkard pinned!" Simon protested.
"Save it for the road, boys." Raison cautioned them. "Remember what we're doing here." They both rolled their eyes.
"Are you sure about that one?" Jarod asked Simon.
"As sure as I am about you, yes. Admittedly that isn't very much, but..."
"Ah, shut up you pansy. Get back to the story."
"Oh yeah... That..."
----
Well, we did finish after two hours of brutal training. My father told me that we should stop so that, "You will be fully recovered for next week's reaping. Eat your soup." No, I did not like soup that much...
I had made a friend from a different clan, one of the Shurshi-Malen youth. Their clan was one that had honed the art of creating clockwork creatures and devices. In every respect, their clan was one of the richest and most respected clans. At least, the nobles were. Us peasants were about the same, with them being just slightly better fed. My clan, the Shurshi-al, was the one best known for hunting, assassins and warriors. The last great clan, the Shurshi-Kalvaren, were the royalty, religious leaders, generals, tacticians and mages of the dark elven society. They ran the show. Nothing happened in any of the inner circles that didn't go through them first.
But my friend was a clockwork elf. Her name was Delora. I was never able to learn what her last name was... We had met quite on accident going through a well-worn and poorly defended trade camp. Me with a few black lizards, him with a few clockwork lizards. Knowing how rare both of our items were, we exchanged one living lizard for one mechanical lizard. We didn't talk too much after our trade that first meeting. We kept on bumping in to each other though, and eventually she went out of her way to make sure that our families had a stand next to each other. My father and hers hit it off rather well, and we became business partners. Whenever one found the other, we would set up our stand right there as well. For some reason, both of our families did better because of it. Maybe the nobles wanted some ties to the other clans...
Regardless, we would meet and talk with one another on many separate occasions outside of the market. Really, whenever we got the chance or an excuse. She brought out little clockwork pieces for me to build and, if I wasn't too bruised and stiff from my last sparring lesson, I would take her outside of the city and teach her how to hunt. Honestly, this went rather well for both of us. Nothing tried to eat the foolish small children and I didn't remove any of my fingers or digits with the small knives and gears.
that isn't to say that we didn't do anything else, we played like any normal children and made up grand stories and adventures, but honestly, we were both nine years old.
----
"Jarod, stop looking at me like that and get your mind out of the gutter. You too Raison."
----
Unlike many of the other females of the dark elf society, Delora treated me like an equal, she respected my opinion and liked me for who I am, not what she could bend me into. Much like my wife today. I guess that this is what stuck in my head as attractive, as I never had a lover or lady the rest of my stay in Zelond. Then again, we were only nine, so maybe she hadn't been warped to thinking of males as scum just yet. I like to think that she was better than them though...
Enough side tracking. I met with her after my last practice outside of the city gates once again, both my small clockwork and rock lizards were perched on my shoulders, clicking and chirping excitedly about getting out of the musky and damp old walls and into the slightly more damp but decidedly less musky outer caves. Plus the rock lizard had a little civilization that had slowly been created over the years, and it had to run its small tribe before some of them decided to leave and get eaten by the bigger lizards.
The somehow sentient clockwork lizard followed my little companion as the gates faded from sight. Delora was around the next corner. The first thing she said was, "We shouldn't be doing this." But she always said that. "So, are we going to the second shelf of the canyon?"
"Yep." I said. "That's where all the strange stuff is. It glows in the dark sometimes." Her eyes widened to the size of clock cogs. "Yeah, I didn't believe father when he told me either." I "failed" to mention that father expressly forbade me ever going back into that place without him, but again, I was nine. What nine year old doesn't almost get eaten at least once before they go to a horrendously sadistic and convoluted test?
----
"Shut up and put your hand down Raison."
----
We wandered now-familiar twisting and black caverns. When we got to the canyon, really it was a seemingly bottomless pit that was deeper then the hole we had been banished to all those years ago. It was the home of many darkling creatures, and there was fabled to be a demon portal at the bottom, sealed by the Goddess herself. A natural place for children to gravitate and get the wits scared out of them. I had been there four or five times, but never to the bottom.
I must be the luckiest child alive, because we got there, went down into the darkling-infested second shelf which was almost one hundred meters away from the top, and we got out without seeing any of the big nasties. What makes this even more remarkable was that we talked with each other the entire time. Something should have seen or heard us and then tried to eat us. Fortunately, my luck has almost always held true. We made it back home, laughing and happy when we should have died long ago.
We went our separate ways at the gate again. I didn't see Delora again for the next six days, even though I did try. Her father just gave me a dirty look and moved shop the next day at market. I had no idea why, and father refused to talk about it until after the Test.
The day of the test itself did come. The soldiers came and took me in a formal, almost polite and civilized fashion. They are the nicest kidnappers alive today, cultivating child snatching into a fine, elegant, clean and legal art. I still hate the stuck up little snows, but everyone does.
I was brought to a large group of children and we were all herded to house after house. Almost everyone was silent the entire time. Those who spoke were shunned and shushed as all of us tried to preserve the magic of the moment or to afraid of what the heavily armed troops around us would to anyone who broke the silence.
We finally came to a large structure in the center of the city that everyone called the "Hall of Trials" or the "Testing Hall." each of us were called out by name and sorted into groups based on our clans. I heard Delora get called up, but since I'm not the tallest guy I couldn't see over the other children. I didn't see her until a bit later.
My group was brought to a different section. They informed us that our parents had given us tools to sponsor us and give us better odds in our test. My package had a knife, a one edged short sword and a crossbow with three shots. The three weapons that I'm the best with! I thought, Great dad! I'll pass for sure! As I moved off into the room that had been prepared for me, I heard someone who I found out was an administrator of the Test whisper, "Now this is cruel, even for you!" to his superior. All the others shushed him. I prepared myself for anything once I walked through those doors.
I found a room, well lit and furnished with a table and two chairs. Bits and pieces of clockwork constructs were scattered on the table, and a man occupied one of the chairs. "Come in! Come in." He called to me. "My, aren't you oddly equipped for a tinkerer. Come in, child. We don't have all day you know." I finally obeyed, but cautiously. "Good! Now, we have heard of your progress with the clockworks," That surprised me, since I thought that my meetings with Delora were supposed to have been secret, "and we wish to put them to the test. Now, I want you to make me a clockwork lizard with the right tools and supplies from in here, nothing too hard."
I looked at all the stuff and was completely lost until my small clockwork lizard crawled out of my vest pocket. I smiled and began to inspect the little creature. My interviewer's eyebrows shot up, but he didn't say anything. Quickly I assembled all of the necessary parts and had a completed construct presented to him. "There you go sir! All done!"
He examined my work and nodded once. "Alright, I guess you pass. Honestly, when I heard your name I thought you would be a girl, Delora, but I guess that I was wrong." My heart did skip a beet and the elf looked at me funny. "Wait a minute..." His eyes widened. Grabbing me roughly by the shoulders, the interviewer asked, "What is your name child?!"
"S-Simon Ken-Beren..." I stuttered, afraid suddenly.
The man ran out of the room, yelling for the guards. I ran after him, somehow keeping up with the long strides. All I knew was that Deloran was in trouble, and somehow it had something to do with me.
He was stopped by a pair of guards who refused to let him or me pass. In fact, one of them drew his blade. Both of them slammed into the wall as a blast of fire swept them aside. "Fools, I have no time for you." the interviewer mumbled. Another blast of fire and the door was shattered. Delora's scream had me running in before the master could even twitch. She was surrounded by large, almost massive, spiders. Two clockwork constructs fought them off valiantly, but they were too slow to truly stop the spiders.
I, on the other hand, was more than fast enough. This was supposed to be my Test. I though. What the two administrators had been talking about was clear to me now. Damn them.
All of the spiders crumbled to ash as the tester burst into the room, fire spewing in liquid streams from his hands.
They had to take her away to a doctor to deal with what had happened. As far as I know, Delora is still going to her to try and clear her trauma from the event. She might have even been driven totally insane...
I was taken to a staging area where everyone like me who had passed was waiting. Waiting for a teacher to come and tell us how to make our eyes that blood-red that was a symbol of pride for our race.
Elves have an innate ability to change minor details about themselves. We call this Glamor. Our eyes are the same color as a normal "light" elf's until we go through a ceremony where they teach us how to change them. We are also cautioned that if we are to ever remove the glamor, the priests and priestesses will know, and we will be dealt with as a traitor.
I was sent home, my eyes now a light shade of red, and curled up in an indent, avoiding the world at large.
Raison
----
"Just two years?" Raison asked the others. "I don't know if anything really interesting happened in only two years..."
"Then just make something up!" Jarod yelled from the counter. He was slightly annoyed that Richard was forcing him to be sober, and the last of his hangover had been made worse by his fight with Simon. Everyone shot him a dirty look. "What? If she doesn't have a horrendous or memorable childhood, then she should make something up for our good priest here. The rest of us can continue with our own stories in good time then."
Raison suddenly looked up. "I've got it!" She exclaimed, slightly surprised. "I've got something to tell you, father Elington. A story from my childhood. A lesson that I rather like that some of us," She made a pointedly scathing glare in Jarod's direction, "Could learn."
I woke up, stretch lazily, and rolled on my bed roll onto what must have been the biggest newt I've ever seen. I jumped up when I touched the slimy creature and gave out a small shriek, beating it with my pillow uselessly. Drawn by all the noise, Drelod walked over to me, amused. The poor creature just looked confusedly at me as its source of heat beat it about the head with a small plush object.
"Raison." He said in between chuckles. "Raison, you can stop doing that to the poor creature now. You aren't doing anything."
Of course, I wasn't concerned about doing anything except getting the slimy thing off of my bed and left arm. "Ew, Ew, Ewwwwww!!!! Get it off! Get it off!" Dolend just rolled his eyes and pushed the large amphibious creature away, muttering something in the newts ear. Understanding glistened in its eyes, and it scuttled into a different part of the bog.
"Why did we even have to come to this horrible place?" I wined. "All we've gotten are ticks, mosquitoes, snakes, lizards and, and... Whatever that thing was! And all of them have been entirely too big to be natural!" I said this as I rolled up my very damp bed roll and tried to start a fire with the wet wood of the bog to heat up breakfast. Breakfast this morning was fried marsh rat. Yum. No really, they're rather good if prepared right. I'll make some for you if you agree to go traveling with me...
My master just sighed, rubbing his temples to clear out his latest migraine headache. It always happened to him, but seemed to be more common whenever I complained or there was a particularly high amount of humidity in the air. Both together basically caused a volcano erupting in his head for the next two hours. As always, I felt sorry for causing him any pain. Dolend was... Well, even then he was more than my friend. I saw him as my real uncle, if not my father.
I could feel my shame burning and my ears started to itch as he gave me a joking smile. My shame disappeared and I threw the pillow into his face as I realized he was just playing a joke on me. His crystal laughter made me flush even more. "So you want a reason?"
"Well, yes." I whispered, angry and ashamed.
He looked at me critically for a few seconds. "Well, my girl, you're old enough to guess. So try." He gave me his best mentor smile.
"Well..." I scrapped for what I could remember of the lessons I had been taught over the last three years. "I guess that it has something to do with... Balance? We live in all this muck so that we can eventually move into a big fancy house later?"
Dolend chuckled at my naivety, "No, no... Though I wish that was true. I'd have a kingdom by now."
"But you hate leading people." I stated, confused.
"Well, yes. I guess I do at that..." He threw another log on the fire, somehow completely dry. "But do you really want to know what your lesson is?"
I drew my little cloak around me and moved closer to the flame, nodding. "Alright. Your lesson is this, how does your life matter?"
The question understandably caught me off guard. I began to stammer out an excuse when he held up his hand. "Tell me everything that you have done, not what you plan to do Golden eyes." I was completely at a loss for words.
"I... I'm a living creature-" I began.
"Yes, so is the lizard." He interrupted.
"Newt." I passively corrected. Dolend waved aside my objections. He never really cared about the distinction between amphibians and reptiles. He found both equally repulsive. I've heard other rangers mutter that he was probably the most squeamish of all of them when it came to cold blooded creatures. I sort of have to agree with them. I don't understand how he could face a whole battalion of Iratiren veterans unflinchingly and still jump up every time a snake slid out of the grass within thirty yards of him...
"Whatever you want to call it. It's slimy and disgusting anyway." He waved the topic off dismissively. "How are you more important then it?" I could tell how much he hated making the analogy.
"Well, I'm an elf." I said matter-of-factly.
"And that means..." He trailed off meaningfully. "Nothing." He finished when an answer was not forthcoming. "Do you know why?"
I just shrugged, my young mind ready to absorb the random treasures that my teacher would give me.
"You know that everything is interconnected. You know that every living thing, including plants and certain types of rock, has a will." The living rocks we had gone through a few days ago, and the concept still hurt my young brain. It still does, as a matter of fact. "Well, what happens to that will when its life spark flickers out and disappears?"
I had no answer. I don't believe in a heaven or a hell, though I am forced to grudgingly admit that the gods do exist. I just don't think that our souls go anywhere but into a new body, ready to be born. Nature doesn't let a dead deer's body go into a heavenly realm after it dies, why should the souls of living creatures be an exception?
"I'll tell you why you are different. Why everything does, in fact, affect the entire world. That newt saw you as a source of heat. Had you not been there, the newt would have found a different spot to curl up on. But Then I wouldn't be giving you this lesson, right?" My blank look gave away the fact that he lost me at 'saw'. "Every choice and every action affect one small thing after another, eventually causing the entire world to feel the effects.
"Now, a lizard-"
"Newt" I corrected reflexively. He hit me with his pillow."
"A 'Newt'," Dolend rolled his eyes theatrically, "doesn't cause much of an impact. What can it do? Eat, sleep, swim, breed, breath and die. But you, on the other hand, can do far more."
"In addition to all the things a li- newt can do, you can calculate, talk, create, destroy, convert, puzzle, etc, etc." He continued to cook the rats lazily. "So how might this make a difference, hmm?"
"Well... The newt would be like a small pebble in a pond." I started.
"Good, keep going."
"What it can do is small, so its size is small, and it... Doesn't make many ripples?" I stopped talking, sure he would correct me.
"Yes." He gestured to hurry it up a little bit.
"But a person like me has many more options, so I am a bigger stone thrown into the same lake."
He nodded. "Yes. Exactly. How much you influence others, though, depends on what choices you make. This makes everyone a differently sized, shaped and composed stone.Some people are heroes, while the vast majority are just normal everyday old people. Now, how long you live also influences how many ripples you make." I nodded, thinking that this made sense. "But also, the ripples of those around you change how your stone hits the water." Again, I became confused.
Again, Dolend rolled his eyes. "Think for a second, if you throw a rock into a still body of water, it will make far more ripples than if you threw it into, say, a river. Or a pool that has been disturbed by multiple rocks before hand." This made sense, so I nodded again. "But, if you time it just right, a disturbed pool will actually add to the ripples created by a new disturbance. And if you repeat the process with just the right shaped, sized, and thrown stones, you will keep getting larger and larger ripples until eventually your next stone affects the entire pond. That is what makes heroes and villains. Not their acts alone, but the acts of others before them as well."
Explained in this light, the questions of "Why me?" and, "Why did this happen?" seem to be answered, and probably are done so satisfactorily, if just a little cruelly.
"All right. I think I understand now..." I said.
"Good. Now eat your swamp rat."
Richard
I lay back in the tall grasses outside of the kitchens. Looking up into the night sky at a very cloudy and bleak sight indeed. Not a single star shone through, not even the moon, which was full and should have broken through the cloud cover easily. I could hardly see even a meter in front of my face. That isn't to say that I couldn't see or find my way in a different manner, but it was incredibly dark outside. A normal elf of any kind wouldn't be able to find his way in it.
It is the only weather I am particularly energetic in. That great calm before the dark and terrible storm. It's the only time I feel alive. Strange, but I don't think of the destruction that will be caused. I only think of the beauty that will soon occur. The sheer power that is shown off by nature in one awesome display. Everything else is just the details. I guess that I'll guiltily admit to influencing this particular storm though...
When the first lightning bolt stuck, I heard myself laughing in a child's pure joy as the sky exploded. Blue and white bolts flashed across the sky, and thunder clapped around me, drowning out all of my thoughts and all the noises around me. If anyone who didn't know me had been able to see me or hear me, they would more than likely thrown me into a very soft, white and clean room. I've been in one before, actually. They are rather nice. Rather easy to break out of though.
But that's not to say that no one was around at all.
Alex looked up from underneath her tree and sighed at the little dancing boy who was almost constantly being illuminated by lightning crashing down everywhere around him. If she was here right now, Alex would probably say that I was exaggerating. But she never paid much attention to the details of the world around her, unless teach told her to.
She closed her book and walked over to me, the rain never actually touching her as it hit a shielding dome of psyonic energy. "Young lord." She said. "I must protest you carrying thus without any form of protection." I ignored her. "Young lord Richard. Put up some kind of barrier, at least." She wasn't even their to me. For a few seconds, she just glared at me, and then she bashed her book against my skull. "Richard! As your guardian, I order you for your own good to put up a shield to protect yourself from this dreadful weather!" This time I obeyed, holding the growing lump on my head.
"Ok, the book was a bit much." I said sorely. "You could have just said my name."
"I did. Twice."
"I don't answer to titles." I reminded her. For all my apparent age of only thirteen, my mind was developed past the normal abilities one would expect. It might have something to do with me being twenty four, but I don't blame that alone. I also blame Teach. "I'm too young to be referred to as lord of anything."
She sighed and rolled her eyes. "I cannot do that, by honor and by your rank's privilege."
I glared at her and mumbled, "Then I order you not to call me by any title."
She thought about it for a second and said, "Well then, you little prick, what do you want to be called." I ignored her. She thought about what she had said for a few seconds. "You can't be serious! Richard-" She burst.
"Yes?" I said in my best condescending teenager voice.
"I insulted you!" She protested. "I called you a prick!"
"I did mention that I don't respond to titles, right?" Alex's jaw remained halfway open for a few seconds before firmly closing and locking in annoyance. "Good."
"Petulant little twirp." Alex mumbled under her breath. When I didn't respond, she growled, "Richard..." to the best of her adolescent abilities.
"Remember, you volunteered for this job." That gave her pause. "Why did you do that again?"
A pained and annoyed expression crossed her face. "The honor." She said miserably.
I turned back to look at the storm, "Have fun with that." I peered at the clouds intently. More lightning flashed across the sky in beautiful and shocking sights. I made the next few lightning bolts spin around in a ring for a few seconds, and then it disappeared. Alex looked at me in surprise. I smiled and laughed again as the storm clouds lit up all at once, sending their bolts of energy in all directions, but avoiding every living thing for miles.
"You shouldn't be doing that." Alex mumbled in mute shock.
"Teach only forbid it when I was around him." I reminded her.
"No Richard, you shouldn't even be able to do that."
"What?" I asked as her voice was drowned out by hundreds of thunder claps going off at once.
You shouldn't be able to do that. I heard in my mind. How can you do that? The thing about telepathic messaging is this, you can't hear emotion or any inflections of the voice, and other languages are automatically translated because you get an image with the words. It's very effective. And you can't tell if the other person is annoyed with you. Making it convenient as well.
Yeah, well, you know... I just, picked it up. I told her. The clouds continued releasing their powerful cargo on the mountains, sending boulders flying and small animals running. I began to sweat, though you couldn't tell because I was thoroughly soaked already.
The clouds, losing their source of energy, began to thin and disappear. The flash flooding went down swiftly as the rain began to become just a light pitter patter of water. A calm so absolute that nothing dared to disturb settled over the valley. Alex and I held our breaths to keep the feeling for as long as possible, all arguments, dislike and annoyance set aside in that one moment of total tranquility.
We held our breaths for a total of two minutes and three seconds. I loved every moment of it, and regretted that I have to breath. We fell to the ground, gasping for breath and laughing. The stars and moon shone down brightly and clearly. The world resumed its normal pace.
Teach stormed outside to bite my head off for hitting his rock garden. And the library. That poor library...
Later, Teach asked how I could do that. I told him that I had no idea.
We found out much later.
____________
Yeah in the 18th century, two inventions suggested a method of measurement. One won and the other stayed in America.
-Ghost destroying Fred
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KuzAnn
Adventuring Hero
Explorer
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posted March 23, 2011 11:26 PM |
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Interesting. I wonder why the demons(if they even have any organization at all) didn't pick Jarod up before our heroes did, since he has such a knack for killing things. I imagine it would be rather easy to turn him into a villain.
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Duke_Falcon
Disgraceful
Supreme Hero
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posted March 28, 2011 10:26 PM |
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A very good piece of literature!
I am amazed! Congratulations!
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Duke_Falcon
Disgraceful
Supreme Hero
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posted March 28, 2011 10:47 PM |
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No, Jarod is a good boy... Just a bit different!
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KuzAnn
Adventuring Hero
Explorer
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posted March 29, 2011 06:15 AM |
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Hmm, what next? We get to hear more about the Test?
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Corribus
Hero of Order
The Abyss Staring Back at You
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posted March 29, 2011 06:26 AM |
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Not to be a kill-joy or anything, but I wanted to make sure you are aware that anything you post here would be considered by any commercial publisher to already be published.
Which means basically that if you were to finish this, and if it was actually reasonably good (I haven't read it, so I can't judge), no publisher would ever publish it. A good thing for any aspiring writers to keep in mind.
There are places on the internet dedicated to critiques for serious attempts at writing fiction (e.g., critters.org) and which will protect your copyrights. Public message boards and blogs are not among those places.
If this is just for fun, then by all means carry on, of course. 
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ohforfsake
Promising
Legendary Hero
Initiate
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posted March 29, 2011 11:33 AM |
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I'm not really into the details behind writings, publishing, etc.
However is it not so that unlike for ~10-20 years ago, you can now publish your own work yourself? You're not really dependent of the "middle man" anymore who'll fiercely hold upon his right to be the only one to distribute the material you submitted?
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gnomes2169
Honorable
Undefeatable Hero
Duke of the Glade
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posted March 30, 2011 12:12 AM |
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Quote:
*Cor's post*
Well bother... That's just a little bit of a kill joy...
But oh well, this could just be fore fun and practice, I guess...
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Yeah in the 18th century, two inventions suggested a method of measurement. One won and the other stayed in America.
-Ghost destroying Fred
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Mytical
Responsible
Undefeatable Hero
Chaos seeking Harmony
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posted March 30, 2011 07:47 AM |
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Feel this might be better in the Tavern, but leaving it here for now. QP awarded early (I usually like to see at least 3 pages worth of posts before even starting to consider). More might be forthcoming depending on how far this story goes. 
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Message received.
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KuzAnn
Adventuring Hero
Explorer
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posted April 04, 2011 07:43 AM |
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Interesting...
Also gnomes... You have a thing for elves, don't you? ;P
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gnomes2169
Honorable
Undefeatable Hero
Duke of the Glade
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posted April 04, 2011 07:51 AM |
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What? I cant have humans that run around and go adventuring when they're 65+, can I? 
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Yeah in the 18th century, two inventions suggested a method of measurement. One won and the other stayed in America.
-Ghost destroying Fred
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KuzAnn
Adventuring Hero
Explorer
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posted April 04, 2011 07:54 AM |
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Well, it's just the fact that you have two elf characters in this story, and then you've taken command of both the sylvan AND dungeon factions in the FFC...
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Duke_Falcon
Disgraceful
Supreme Hero
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posted April 04, 2011 01:15 PM |
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Still good, Gnomes!
BTW may I cut it and paste it in pdf? Reading here is rather hurt my eyes sometimes.
And know someone a good translator program\software? I may show my own novel writed crap
Oh, Ann! Elves because elves are frickin' awesome! Humans are boring... Well, at least in Fantasy
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PeterFarkas
Adventuring Hero
LeBronTosaurus
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posted April 04, 2011 02:24 PM |
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@gnomes:
Elven kids, hmm, goooooodddd... to eat
Apart from kidding, your writing is really good... not surprising after seeing your work in H5 fan fic game.
Personally, I prefer showing more inner thoughts (yep, even more) when writing from an I-view, but it is really a matter of taste.
Dialogues are good, refreshing, make it easy to read, despite the circumstances given by HC. The only question is... is this all you have? Really waiting what will happen next.
Language use is magnificent, and English spelling is a nightmare for everyone so grammar errors don't bother really.
Oh and one more thing (I don't really dare to call it an advice): chapter names should maybe show more creativity. Chapter names are the second thing (after title) that an average, everyday reader looks at. OK, maybe marketing disrupted my nerves really.
@DukeFalcon:
Heh, bro, the only good Hungarian-English translating program I trust is me. Unfortunately, it's been facing overload issues lately. Still, I would like to read your novel as well.
A small writing experiment of mine will be up in the Tavern as well in a short time, if everything goes as planned.
Have a nice day everyone,
PF
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KuzAnn
Adventuring Hero
Explorer
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posted April 04, 2011 08:47 PM |
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Looks like you have quite the following NOW, gnomesey. ;P
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gnomes2169
Honorable
Undefeatable Hero
Duke of the Glade
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posted April 04, 2011 11:00 PM |
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Yay! 3 readers! 
@ Duke: Sure, wouldn't want you going blind on me this early in the story.
@ PF: All I've got? kekekekekeke... Yoou do not know the depths of darkness and plot twists that I can call upon to serve my evil writing purposes.
Though I'll take your advice on the titles and try to think of more creative ones...
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Yeah in the 18th century, two inventions suggested a method of measurement. One won and the other stayed in America.
-Ghost destroying Fred
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PeterFarkas
Adventuring Hero
LeBronTosaurus
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posted April 05, 2011 09:01 AM |
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Quote:
Yay! 3 readers!
@ PF: All I've got? kekekekekeke... Yoou do not know the depths of darkness and plot twists that I can call upon to serve my evil writing purposes.
Though I'll take your advice on the titles and try to think of more creative ones...
Then, I'm waiting to experience it.
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gnomes2169
Honorable
Undefeatable Hero
Duke of the Glade
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posted April 11, 2011 07:36 AM |
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Interlude: What if...
The priest yawned, rubbing some sleep from his eyes as he set down his quill. Elington looked at the heroes and said, "Well, if that's all then, goodnight!" With that he sauntered off to his room.
"But father, the sun is still-" Raison called to the priest.
"I know. Goodnight, little one." And then he disappeared up the stairs.
They sat there for a few minutes, each one remembering things that they had forgotten after all these long years... Some memories were painful, but no longer lanced agony through their minds. Others were bitter-sweet, little details and encounters that they had forgotten about.
Slowly, the regulars to the tavern filed in. Some remarked on the 'Keep's burned hand, while most just talked and joked, ignoring the sullen four who sat in the back of the room. They began to talk about trade and bandits. One man, an old wizened man, stood up and began to tell a story about a man called "Eldal, the Black Mercenary."
"Oh, you all must have heard about Eldal by now." He said to his audience, "Tall, blue eyes, slicked black black hair oh, and," his voice became low, a conspiratorial whisper, "a half demon. Son of the Demon King himself."
Jarod chuckled softly. "They always get the hair wrong." He drained his glass and stood up suddenly, bumping the old man's chair in the process. "Oh, sorry sir. I was just on my way out. Oh, incidentally, my hair is brown, thank you very much. Though I used to dye it black..." With that, the 'Black mercenary' walked outside.
The old man snorted dismissively, "Don't worry about that one. If he really was Eldal, we wouldn't be alive right now. Probably some high and mighty mercenary trying to have some fun with us. As I was saying-" This time, Simon 'Tripped' over the old man's chair and, after some stumbling and mumbled apologies, followed Jarod out. The storyteller opened his mouth again when Richard and Raison stood up as well. He glared at them suspiciously, but they courteously left him alone and walked out arm in arm.
Once outside, Raison gave Richard a light kiss on the cheek and walked over to Simon, who was blushing furiously. "You two just do that to mess with me, don't you?" The two disgustingly innocent looks that they gave him confirmed his suspicion. With a little grunt, Simon turned away and began studying the sunset. Raison stood by him, face carefully blank as she looked into the blood red setting sun...
Richard looked up into the sky, finding what seemed to be a small, white and rather harmless cloud. He concentrated for a second, and a lightning bolt twirled around in the sky merrily. Smiling and chucking like a child, Richard walked into the city merrily.
Jarod looked... Confused. His friends were wondering off and he didn't feel that he would be particularly welcomed with Raison and Simon. shrugging, Jarod went in the opposite direction of Richard, content to just wind his way through the city until nightfall.
People had finished with the market that day. As he walked past, zealous or desperate store owners stopped packing their stands up and asked him if he would be interested in their wares. He stopped and indulged a few of them, paying far above the normal cost for some items and getting others for nearly half of their original price. Some mewling came from a stand, and Jarod avoided it like the plague. "Not again." He mumbled. "No more pets for me..." He continued to bounce aimlessly from street to street, stall to store owner. Always careful to avoid the stalls with living merchandise. Eventually, the last store did close, and Jarod's coin-purse was mostly depleted.
Content and carrying an armful of trinkets, Jarod stopped to look at the sun reflecting off of the river, spreading its last few rays across the water as the day died. A small sound, like quite a few pebbles skipping across the ground, drew Jarod's attention. He set down his trinkets, placed a few wards on them to make sure no thief thought of stealing them, and moved in to investigate this disturbance. He found it quickly enough. A large group of semi- well dressed children were throwing stones at something, it sounded like an old lady yowling at them, and they were jeering, calling names and being a general bother. Grunting softly, Jarod was surprised when a scrawny, disheveled kid came up and started gesturing angrily at them.
He began to have a sinking feeling about this whole situation.
But then he realized that the child was a girl, and his nerves settled down just a bit. Until he saw the palm of her right hand. The glowing insignia that was almost so casually placed there brought his beating heart to his chest. No. Impossible.
Jarod began to move though the crowd, roughly and rudely pushing aside all the brats who got in his way. Some of the kids just made way as he bee-lined for their leader. Out of the corner of his eye, Jarod saw the a disheveled ball of fuzz. The girl was gesturing furiously as the kid's leader drew back his arm to throw a hand-sized stone.
Jarod grabbed the arm and gave a quick twist that sent the kid to the ground on his face.The stone clattered to the ground harmlessly. All the kids looked at the heavily armed and armored man who had come out of seemingly nowhere and a few even met his withering glare before wilting and dispersing to go home. Jarod roughly threw the kid away and spat at the child's feet before turning back to the most desperate pair of strays that he had seen besides himself and Fetcher. The girl was holding the second ugliest and meanest cat alive protectively. They both gave him wary glances. There were no kittens. Jarod stared back with a calm smile. History repeats itself, does it Simon? he asked silently.
They stood there for a few minutes, silent and motionless. One side afraid that this man would harm them, the other that he would scare them away. Slowly, ever so slowly, Jarod reached for his money pouch. He jingled it invitingly, and the young woman's eyes widened. She backed away a step when Jarod realized what he had just insinuated. Slapping himself in the forehead, Jarod hissed, "Idiot! She can speak!" And put the pouch back. "I'm sorry for suggesting that I wanted to buy..." She looked ready to run again. "Well, I don't." He stated, but she didn't relax any more. "Do you want a good meal?"
Instantly, the caution was dropped. She practically ran to Jarod's side. How long has it been since you heard that? He asked silently. "I just have to pick up a few things first and then-" Her stomach growled angrily at him. "we will get you something good to eat." She nodded excitedly. "In fact, I'll get you a good bath while we're at it!" A look of wonder passed across her face, and Jarod's heart chipped. "I'm going to take care of you, all right?" The cat protested when she gave him a possessive hug. "Alright, easy there, easy." She sheepishly let him go and the cat ran back to the crate. Jarod sighed and picked up the crate, drawing many annoyed mews of protest. The cat jumped in as well.
"So, what's your name?" He asked the girl.
She held her hand over her throat. She was mute.
"Oh. Do you mind if I call you Rella?" She shook her head and smiled sweetly. Jarod carried his the crate over to his stuff and put the trinkets on the box.
And with that, Jarod walked back to the inn with a young woman. Several small explosions and a massive lightning storm announced where Richard was, and Simon and Raison sat beside the river, just thinking about things ad opportunities squandered.
The day drew to a close.
____________
Yeah in the 18th century, two inventions suggested a method of measurement. One won and the other stayed in America.
-Ghost destroying Fred
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KuzAnn
Adventuring Hero
Explorer
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posted April 11, 2011 07:53 AM |
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Jarod seems pretty nice when he's not cranky and/or in demon form. I do hope that the girl doesn't die somehow.
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gnomes2169
Honorable
Undefeatable Hero
Duke of the Glade
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posted April 12, 2011 01:13 AM |
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Yeah, pretty much the only times when he is agreeable...
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Yeah in the 18th century, two inventions suggested a method of measurement. One won and the other stayed in America.
-Ghost destroying Fred
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