|
| Thread: Family Ties |  This thread is pages long: 1 2 3 · NEXT» |
|
gnomes2169
Honorable
Undefeatable Hero
Duke of the Glade
|
posted March 18, 2011 10:56 PM |
bonus applied by Mytical on 30 Mar 2011. |
|
Family Ties
First off, this is not an RP. Nor is it a fan-fic. It is a book in progress. I'm doing this so that you guys can keep me honest and motivated, as well as pre-edit and peer review if I ever think that I have a chance of actually publishing it. 
As it is, this is a story of four people, a story of their lives as told by their perspective. Yes, it is based in a fantasy setting (Elves and demons and such). It a story of a war told from three sides, and a story of belonging.
Characters:
Simon (7): My name is Simon Ken-Beren. The name comes from my human great, great grandfather in law. It is a curse in our society, a society created by our oppressors. Those damned white elves... My father is teaching me the way of the blade, and I will end this war! I'll be a hero... But first, I need to get down whatever it is that my father brought home for me today! I hope he comes back from the catacombs soon...
Raison (6): My mother walks me though the garden, explaining the herb lore again and again. Why can't she understand that Drelod does that for her? He's the best teacher that anyone, let alone a low ranking noble family like ours, could hope for! The ranger was bought by his friendship with my father before my father was... No, I will not make myself live through that again... Father...
Jarod (9): My life has been a hard one. My father, damned demon that he is, died shortly after he raped my mother. My mother died because a mugger needed the coins that she carried. I only survived because of my father's demonic nature which courses through my veins like quicksilver. Quicksilver... How I wish that I had some! I could buy food for myself and finally leave these slums for months if only I could get my hands on some...
Richard, (22 (looks about 10)): I walk through the rooms of the grand hall. Teach calls for me from the library's cellar and I run the half mile there. I trip and fall down the main chunk of the stairs. Cursing, I get up and wonder what the hell was so important that he would need to use his psyonic powers to call me...
____________
Yeah in the 18th century, two inventions suggested a method of measurement. One won and the other stayed in America.
-Ghost destroying Fred
|
|
gnomes2169
Honorable
Undefeatable Hero
Duke of the Glade
|
|
posted March 19, 2011 01:07 AM |
|
|
(So I've decided to put all my entries into one large "Chapter Post". I'll do this for all of my chapters from now on (Combine them when I finish each entry))
Chapter 1: Humble(ish) beginnings
Simon
I curled up and moved farther into the cave against my mother as a form darker than black came into our small home. It hisses once before moving to look for the noise it had heard. My sixteen year old sister lays perfectly still. Oh Dreala I pray to our Goddess, "Please, don't let it find-" I stop talking as a realize what I had just done. The blind creature turned to me and my mother, claws extended and fangs dripping acid that could melt the flesh blood and armor off of a full Knight of the Black Moon. With a hiss of rage, it launched itself at us.
It landed with a strangled cry, both claws went to the sides of its head as the rest of its left flank fell off, including its first arm. My father stood there. A hero of our people, Ferrin Ken'Beren was the best swords master alive. This thing didn't care. As its split skull mended itself, the darkling creature flew towards my father, piercing the darkness with another shrill cry. When it was just one of my arms-lengths away, father moved again. I could barely see him as his blade flashed out of its sheath. Three more arms, a leg and most of the creature's right flank fell off now, and father lightly side-stepped the attack. It landed with a thump on the cave floor and my father rammed Keresh'thil, the Killing Edge in common, into the base of the creature's skull. It twitched once and never moved again.
I ran from my mother's protective embrace. "Father! You're-" I stumbled back when he backhanded me across my right ear with his free hand, crying out in shock and pain.
"Do you have any-!" He began to yell at me, his normally melodic voice cracking in rage and discord. His red eyes burned with rage and fear. It was more of that then anything that caused me to draw back. What could possibly scare my father?
His rage dissipated when I backed up a step. I think that father thought it was from the blow. "I'm sorry, Simon, but damn it all! You need to learn to think! You're seven now, and you only have two years before they put you through the test and you are expected to fend for yourself." With one motion, father wiped the blood off of his blade and had the ball of black stuff coalesce in the air in front of him. "I can't protect you much longer, son. Please, understand that. I can't always be there, and we have some people who would use anything to hurt me." His eyes narrowed and he looked away. "Like they did with your brother."
I tried to stop the memories from coming, but they don't seem to care. My fourteen year old brother, Meralil, had been walking through the catacombs in the night a month ago, looking for something that we could eat. Knowing that food was scarce but that he was the best hunter and gatherer, we didn't worry to much when he didn't return in the "Morning"... But we did when a week passed. My father and I had gone out to look for him. We found him barely a hundred yards away from the city walls, killed by Shurshial blades, my father had told me. I couldn't recognize that it was my brother anymore, not that rotten and butchered thing... This is why my father was afraid of the other dark elves. Any of us could be enemies.
I walked over and I hug my father's leg. "I'll try, daddy. I'll do it. Just don't cry-" And then I broke out into tears. Tears of grief, tears of loss, tears of fear. For my brother, for my family, for my friends, for this cruel world we had been imprisoned in, tears of rage for the damned elves who had judged us as traitors when they were the ones dabbling in the forbidden demonic magics. They were responsible for this... All of this! For our imprisonment in this underground hell, for the starvation, for the death, for my brother...
Conscious thought left me as grief took over.
I woke up later alone in our "house", just a small cave in the heart of a cavern, but I could hear my father singing just outside. I yawned and wiped away the last of my tears before I walked out to join him. "Good morning, son. Did you sleep well?" He asked warmly, or as warmly as the damp, chilled air allowed him to.
"I'm ok father. Thank you." I replied. Something skittered along the rocks beside the door, and I turned to find a small black and brown rock-lizard staring at me. It flicked out its tongue to taste the air and blinked as my face broke out into a grin of pure joy. I chased the little lizard around for a while, as only a child could. My father just rolled his eyes when I came back holding my new pet, petting it behind the crest, causing it to make a cross between a chirp and purr.
"Eat it or let it go, Simon." My father cautioned.
"Aw, but daaddyyy..." I wined.
"You can't let food go to waste here, Simon. The only reason I'm giving you a choice this time, unlike with the black-Lizard, is because there is to little meat on this one to make a good meal." He chided. "We aren't like the nobles, and we don't have enough to get by as it is. So no pets."
I sighed and let the little thing go. It scrambled to a nearby rock and sat there, looking at me in a friendly manner. "Shoo." I told it, but the little reptile wouldn't leave. With a big grin on my face, I told him, "I think that I have a new friend." Father just rolled his eyes again. We sat there like that for a wile, silent except for our breathing and some occasional chirps of curiosity from the lizard. "Father." I said suddenly. "I think that we should continue training."
He looked at me curiously for a second, and then shrugged. "Alright, but I'm still not going to go easy on you, boy. And your mother isn't here to keep us in line..."
"So anything goes?" I finished.
"Exactly. Be ready for anything." He said, tossing me a sword forged from the black iron that we could mine from this cavern. "Here I come!" I barely had my own blade up by the time father was within striking distance. He made slashes with his blade that I hastily blocked, and they caused me to stumble back. "Keep your balance and your stance, they are the most important things you have in a fight." He told me and I struggled to regain both while fighting him off as well. "You could be armed with a rock-lizard and a spatula and kill on hundred elves if you choose and keep the right stance." He told me that as he knocked my legs out from under me and hit me in the head with the flat of his blade. I saw stars before hitting the ground, and more stars afterwords. "Of course, not getting hit in the head is more important. Again." He told me.
I stood up, reeling in pain and dizziness, but took my stance again. I was used to it by now, after the hundreds of sessions alone with my father, pain was easy to ignore. We went through hundreds of different techniques and stances for disarming and disabling your opponent. We went through dozens on keeping your enemy confused and a small handful on killing your foe before they even knew you were there. By the time mother and sister came home from the crystal fields, I was so black, blue, sore and in pain that I didn't notice them until the lizard, who had been laying on my quickly rising chest for the last few hours, made a curious chirp. "Well, look what the mighty hunter caught today!" Mother said. "It will go wonderfully with the stew..."
As she reached for the rock-lizard's tail, father stopped laughing long enough to tell her, "Dear, the lizard is not for eating." She screwed up her beautiful black face and left my little pet alone.
"Well, it's dinner time, anyway. We found some good mana-crystal grown mushrooms while we were down there, and a delicious, non-toxic wild mushroom!" My father drew her into a warm embrace. "We'll be having a good stew tonight, dear."
"That just may be the most beautiful thing that I've ever heard you say." Father told her before giving mother a long kiss. At least, that's what the lizard told me... I was half-way unconscious. Don't ask how a lizard can talk, we Shurshial are still elves, no matter how much we deny it.
"Come on, boy." My father picked me up by the shoulder, sending the little lizard flat on its back and skittering back into a small, dark crevice. "It's time for dinner." He half-carried and half dragged me into the house. My stomach growled when I smelt the first aromas of the mushroom stew, greedily waiting for its first meal in two days. I couldn't wait.
Raison
"Raison! Are you listening to me girl?" Mother asked me. I jumped up in surprise, broken out of my dreams of chasing the butterflies and the squirrels that inhabited mother's garden. As I stammered out my excuse, my mother cut me off. "I guess it doesn't matter anyway, since you have your precious teacher to replace me." She muttered bitterly.
I could feel my shame make me blush. She was my mother, and no matter how good a friend or teacher Drelod was, he couldn't replace family... I promised myself that I wouldn't forget that again. "Sorry, mommy. I was watching the butterflies and..." I stuttered off as Mom gave me an exasperated sigh and shook her head.
"If only your father could see you now." She murmured, "Watching the butterflies indeed. You need to focus on what I'm trying to tell you, not some little flimsy insect. Now pay attention."
"Uncle Drelod says that everything needs everything else to keep living." I abashedly mumbled. "He says that the only way to live a life with any joy in it is to-" I stopped talking when I saw my mother's livid expression. "I... I..."
"Raison. Come. Here." I looked down at the ground in shame. "Now." She commanded, trying to keep her voice even, when I didn't obey immediately. I shuffled over, not looking up. "Look at me." My mother ordered. This time when I didn't obey immediately, I felt an sudden jerking pain as mother pulled my head up by the hair. "I said look at me, Raison!" I let out a small yelp and looked at my mother in pain and shock. She never hurt me before... I thought as the prickling pain in my scalp started to burn more and more.
"The way you are acting is no way for a child of an elven noble family, no matter how small, to act!" She chided firmly, still holding her voice even. She'd had years of training to do so. Mom never showed what she was feeling... Ever. As she continued to yell at me, I thought back to father. how she hadn't cried at his... his... I felt the tears forcing themselves out and I couldn't stop them. Father... Mother noticed my tears and stopped yelling at me about my previous crimes. "What do you think you are doing?!" She yelled out. She let go of my hair and slapped me across the face as hard as she could. My head jerked back and I stumbled to the ground, recoiling from the pain. I forgot about my father as a red pocket of heat spread across my face. "Crying? From me holding you by the hair like that? Oh some great and powerful ranger you will be, girl." I started to protest but she deftly cut my arguments off. "I have half a mind to forbid your father's last wish." She hissed in my ear, "Who ever heard of a female noble becoming a woods-bound, homeless, wandering, vagabond? Because that's what a ranger is, daughter, a little wandering rat that feeds off of others."
----
It was then that I figured out that my mother hated me. Yes, I was only six, but I had grown up in a war. A war that was raging as my mother spoke. I might as well have been twelve for all I understood. And I knew about hatred. That was the last lesson my mother ever taught me.
----
"Shut up, shut up, shut up!" I heard a girls voice say somewhere near by. "You don' know anything! You ne'er did!" My mother started to protest, but the girl deftly cut her off. "You tol' me once that you cared only for your family, but you lied to me! You hate me! You hate your only dau'er!" I realized that I was the one screaming at her. And the pail, bloodless look I received for it made me feel better, stronger then her. "You ne'er loved me! You ne'er loved daddy! You ne'er loved anybody but your fathead old self! And now you thin' that you can tell me that Uncle Drelod is jus' a rat who is taking our food! you don' know anything! He doen' need you, and I don' either!" She rose her hand up to hit me again, and I flinched, stopping in mid-rant.
Mother smiled pleasantly and lowered her open hand. I didn't like that smile. It showed the barest emotions and how decrepit her soul truly was. "That's better." She said in her courtly, formal manner. "You think that you don't need me? Fine. Go. When you come crawling back for food in a week, you won't find me here anymore. Fredreich and I shall be gone to our new home tomorrow, and we'll have children that are... Better then you and your brothers. Now go, child. I disown you, and you are trespassing on private property." I could see how much she enjoyed doing this to me. "Go." Mother half-snarled.
I only too happily obeyed.
Drelod joined me on the city road a few blocks farther away. It took me a while to notice his silent footfalls and shadow next to me, since I was busy feeling sorry for myself. My mother hates me, My brothers are whipped like trained dogs and obey every word she says... I lost my house... I have nothing... As I sank to my knees to cry, Drelod picked me up and put my small body on his right shoulder.
"Now now, Gold Eyes," He whispered his pet name for me "What makes you cry?" I wrapped my arms around Drelod's head and let the floodgates break. I told him everything that happened with mom, everything that was wrong with my life, how mom didn't care that daddy was... I broke down completely. The whole time, Drelod comforted me and listened, being my protector and champion as he had been for all the years I had known him, which was my entire life.
----
"Now, looking back, I can see that he was the only other elf from my childhood that I loved." Raison finished.
Simon looked at her regretfully and said, "I'm so sorry..."
Jarod
My stomach growled incredibly loudly again. the man who had been walking past, he looked like one of Lord Ferin's men, stopped in his tracks. He looked down at me, a young human boy dressed in rags, dirty, thin, a ragged sliver of what a living creature should look like. Unlike the other nobles, no look of disgust passed across his face, no hatred. I only saw pity. Pity for a fellow human being. If only you knew... But I had hidden the demon marks with the rags of clothing that I had remaining. You wouldn't be so kind.
He stopped, digging through his pocket for something, giving me a better chance to look at him. He was wearing a fine suit of leather armor, with a one-bladed sword on his belt, I couldn't identify what it was yet. He had a red scar going along his chin and the corner of his right eye. His posture was that of a warrior, same with his facial expression, the cut of his silver hair, and his hands... His hands... I gasped in shock, able to see through the thin glamor he had placed over his skin. The demonic claws and symbol blended into the black night, burning into my memory forever. The half-demon smiled, chuckling under his breath. "Either you are very observant, I doubt that, a wizard, what self-respecting wizard would put themselves in your situation or be so young?, and then, and I think that I'm right here, you are one of my kind." His voice was a mix between gravel and music, memorable enough to be unique throughout the land. Memorable enough that I could know who he was when I was blinded...
----
"But that came later, and that didn't last forever. Now, you asked for my story, priest? Then wait for me to get to there and shut up. Thank you."
"Now... Back to that day... It was still mid day by the time he pulled out what he had been looking for..."
----
"Well, boy." His smile became slightly smaller, but it was still there. "Do you want this?" He held up a copper circle. I gave out another, louder, gasp. A copper circle! It was a fortune to me, worth three times all the iron half-pennies that I had been able to beg off of everyone who would give them to me for the last three weeks. I had thirty iron ha'pennies... This fortune could keep me alive for a week. A week of food... A week of warmth... And this man was giving it to me for free. Suddenly, I didn't care that he was a half-demon, suddenly I didn't care about the stories the priests had told me. This man was a saint, and at that moment I would have died for him. How I changed...
He tossed the small coin to me almost offhandedly, "Don't spend it all in one place, little one." He chuckled. The man walked away, laughing as he strode to the palace. "Oh!" His blue-ringed hazel eyes flashed brightly in the mid-morning light, "We will meet again." He winked at me before turning to resume his brisk walk. "I'll make sure of it! If you don't see me in three years, ask for commander Espen!" I didn't see him again for another two years.
I took my new found fortune and-
----
"Damn!" The priest swore as his quill broke. "One minute of your time, sir." Jarod grabbed the broken feather and wiped his hand over its shattered body. The feather was whole when he set it back down on the table.
"No more distractions, got it, priest?" Jarod asked, blue eyes burning with only a semblance of control.
"Y-yes sir. Sorry sir." The priest put more ink on the quill's end and took his writing position, obviously nervous. Jarod chuckled to himself, So easy to scare... Wait. I'm a hero now... Oops. Richard just rolled his eyes and sighed at his companion.
"Back to the story then, aye?"
----
ran through the street, looking for the kitchen I had heard so much about. I didn't notice the man following me, the man who had watched everything that happened between me and Espen. I was lost in my own mind, my own world. I imagined the taste of strawberries, and found that I couldn't remember what they tasted like. Nor non-rotten meat. Not even jun-moldy bread. I was obviously excited, but then I caught a glimpse of myself in the river running through the half-way point of Fenerie, the town I was currently living in. I recoiled from it, and I couldn't imagine what had taken over my benefactor, same blood or otherwise. I wouldn't be let into a barn looking like this, never mind a restaurant, no matter how poor.
I left the alleys and the road. In retrospect, I should not have done so, but it's one of the main reasons why I am how I am today. I followed the river until I stood outside of the city gates. Certain that I was away from the public eye, I took of the sack that served as a tunic and the shreds of pants that I had left, I had no other possessions, and jumped into the slow-moving and shallow river. Instantly, five years of muck and grime began to dissolve into the water, but I was far to dirty for that to be it. Still, getting the first two centimeters of filth off of me felt good. I can't describe it to you how good that felt. The only part of me that was as dirty as before was my left palm, since that was clutching the largest coin I had held in my lifetime like the Gods send it was.
----
"He threw...Yes, I can say that without being smote. Get back to writing!"
----
I was there for maybe a minute, still covered in years of grime but better then before, when the man who had been following me jumped into the river onto my head. I knew him, he was old Credger, the beggar who had for some reason always given me bread when he had any... Damn it old man, why did you do it? He grabbed me and threw me back onto the shore, desperately prying my weak fingers open. "No, please!" I cried out, stunned by the force of the impact. "Don't take it! Please!" Credger didn't care about my protests, or, at least he didn't care beyond smashing my face into the ground. I felt and heard a loud snap as my recently broken nose shattered again. Blood flowed onto the ground in a profuse amount. My hand finally released itself from its death-grip, and he took the coin.
I stood up, causing the blood pouring from my nose to spill onto my bare chest. And there the old fool was, dancing in joy with his new prize. I forgot about everything he had done for me. My world narrowed to a focal point of hatred for that one being, and the demon mark that covered my chest burned with it. "Give it back!" My voice was no longer recognizable, even to me. The small and broken boy had been replaced by a demon of pain, rage and blood fury. Credger stopped dancing and looked at me, eyes widening when he saw the mark upon my chest. He clenched his hand over the copper circle, out of fear, I think, though Credger was a crazy old coot so I don't know what he was thinking. And then the idiot ran.
He got to the wall before a slammed into him with more strength then a mortal should possess. Credger hit the wall and cried out in agony as the right side of his body snapped like kindling. Every bone was broken that I can remember, and he hit the ground, writhing and screaming in agony. But, against all odds, the daft fool was still holding the damned coin. the rage that had focused my sight overwhelmed the rest of my conscious mind, and I only remember red.
The monk's hand was trembling as he wrote down the last line. "Th-there." He stammered, trying not to sound disgusted or disturbed by what Jarod had told him. "N-now then, Richard-"
"I'm not done yet, priest." Jarod interrupted. The monk's eyes widened, but he sat back down and, dutifully but with a rather pale face, picked up the quill.
The next thing that I remember, I was holding the coin in my hand, in the middle of stroking it like a cat, or a woman. The copper was smeared by something red, though I was confused as to what that could be. I looked at it closer and put the coin in my mouth, trying to figure out what it could possibly be. I spat the coin out when I tasted blood."How.." And then I remembered Credger. I stood up and looked at the ground in front of the wall. A pool of the stuff had dried there. As I looked up, I saw a mass of flesh, charred and pulverized, with bits of broken bone sticking out of-
"Are you quite all right, priest?"
it at unnatural angles. Blood was plastered against the wall as well. there seemed to be chunks of flesh missing, and I realized that I wasn'-
The priest ran out of the room, and the group of heroes could hear him retching. Raison joined him. Richard as well. Simon sighed and picked up the quill.
t hungry anymore. I began to throw up into the river, and found out that I was expelling blood. None of it was mine. I realized that I was covered in the stuff, and dove into the water. I scrubbed myself feverishly until I was scraping at my skin and cutting myself with my ragged nails. No matter what, the red stuff on the black obsidian-like skin that covered my chest would not come off. Instead, it seeped into the demonic rune, which drew all of it in and glowed brightly in contentment. I threw up again, and more of Credger's blood came out.
By now, my nerves had calmed to the point that I was able to think, Didn't anyone hear that? And then I saw the dismembered guard. His crushed skull was laying three feet from his body. I threw up until I was only giving off dry heaves, and even that lasted for, oh I don't know, thirty minutes? I finally collected myself enough to walk over to the dead guard and, carefully avoiding the blood and gore for as long as I could, I took his coin pouch. I also found my copper circle and washed both of my new possessions off in the lake. I put my old clothes back on and ran into the city, avoiding the public eye as best a street rat could. I forgot about the restaurant and strawberries. I only wanted to get away. From myself and what I had done.
I found a corner while running blindly, and climbed up it with supernatural speed. I sat on the roof and...
Simon waited for him to finish. Jarod cleared his throat uncomfortably. Simon rolled his eyes and guessed.
Cried myself into unconsciousness.
Richard
"Alright, I know that the plan was to get a story in before and after each meal, but..." Richard messed with the food that the tavern keep had given to them. "After Jarod's story, I'm really not that hungry." Simon, Raison and the monk all nodded in agreement. Jarod continued to eat, pounding down his food like he hadn't eaten for days, ignoring everyone else as usual.
The monk pulled out the scroll and his quill again. "Alright, let's get started then, shall we?"
I picked myself off the ground, swearing loudly and profusely enough to make a drunken sailor's dead mother turn over in her grave. Teach gave me "The look". You know what I'm talking about, the exact right way of scrunching up your face, twisting your eyebrows and generally repositioning of your body so that you look about five times bigger and thirty times more psychotic than you usually do to a teenager. That look. I stopped swearing and cast my eyes to the ground, praying that he wouldn't give me dish duty for a month like he had last time.
Fortunately for me, Teach was in a forgiving mood and the hard lines on his face disappeared. He chuckled slightly under his breath and whispered, "Children." I sighed in relief, happy that I hadn't managed to get on the bad side of the most important person to me there. In the refuge and school that we lived in, there were only three other people then me and teach; Laura, the maid, Marik, the farmer, and Alex, my guardian. They were the only people I had contact with the first thirty four years of my life. As you might have guessed, pissing any of them off, (Did I use that slang correctly?), would have been a bad thing. As it is I was only on bad terms with Marik and Laura, and I never saw them after meal times.
Good thing too, as after what I did to the kitchen, master library and the main studies before I was fully in control of my powers had Laura working me like a slave for months picking it all up before letting me get some sleep...
"Now boy." Teach's old face broke into a warm smile, "You know that you are discouraged from using those words until you are the proper age."
"But humans-" I began to protest.
"Humans are mortal creatures whose flame glows brightly for just a fraction of a second before it wastes all of its fuel and is blown out." He finished the page of some old textbook he was reading titled "Life in Delintoth", (Don't look on a map for it, Delintoth was destroyed years ago in an orc raid), and stood up so as to give me a proper lecture. Ah hell. I thought to myself. I hope that Alex has enough power and skill to heal my ears after this...
I won't bore you with the details but, needless to say, the subject was on how a twenty two year olds should act in our society, how we were not humans, how my parents, who we never talked about, would be ashamed to find that their son was comparing our immortal, powerful and wise race to the humans and generally just giving me the talking to of my lifetime. He gave me the exact same speech every other week. If you want me to, and you have five hours of spare time, I could recite the entire thing to you word for word from memory.
Today, though, he stopped halfway through this rant and said, "On the subject of humans," I started paying attention to this break from the norm. Teach cleared his throat and, in a slightly less stern and certain manner, continued with, "You are coming upon a certain age where you will begin to look at woman in a new light and want to do... Things with and to them." In an academic way, I knew what he was talking about. I had accidentally stumbled in on Marik and Laura one day and seen Marik woo her into doing said "Things". Neither had noticed, and no one knew, so I said nothing to teach and let him continue.
"Now, it is perfectly normal to feel these things and have your body react this way to them since that is one of the things that your body was made to do." His face took on a slightly more serious expression, "But remember that you cannot do anything with these emotions and... Things with anything but another natural-born psyonic or immortal creature. The elves don't fall under that category, no matter how long-lived or beautiful." He paused so that I would ask the obvious question.
"All right, I shall make the inquiry, why?" I asked in the old speech that I had been taught since childhood.
He smiled his signature soft smile again. "Because, my boy it wouldn't be fair to you or the woman you chose. Or your children, or your childrens' children, and so on and so forth. You would watch, ever young, as the woman you loved aged and died with your children following closely behind and your grandchildren just a step behind them. You would watch as branches of your family tree fell apart and were eradicated by war and disease. It would hurt you until you either died on the inside, or you killed yourself physically." When I started to protest, he held up his palm. "Boy, I know this because I saw it happen, time and time again. I watched friends fall into pits of despair to deep to recover them. I saw family destroy themselves with their power rather then watch as more of their mixed-blood descendants age and die. Do not presume to claim that I do not know what I'm talking about." This was the closest I had ever seen my teacher get to true rage, and the closest that I had seen him to talking about his past.
"But back to the subject of your, rather filthy, mouth. Well, I'm not actually angry with you, despite appearances. In fact, I personally couldn't care less." The surprise on my face must have shown because he laughed when he looked at me again. "Don't be so surprised, boy. I was your age once. Wipe that smirk off your face, Richard, the dirt is still slightly older then me. The only reason why I'm making such a fuss is," He leaned in close to whisper in my ear, "we have a certain overzealous guardian who answers only to a certain overzealous maid who thinks that children should be kept as 'Pure as snow' who follows you everywhere, and technically, since I'm your teacher, any knowledge of said words was given to you by me. Since I do not like having to do the dishes for five months at a time, I plead that you don't drop the hammer on our heads..."
Now it was my turn to smile. Alex was only five years older than me, but acted like she was the one and only responsible adult other then Laura here. Female dominance was very prevalent in her personality, and she treated me like a child who didn't know anything. (Even though she had learned everything I was only a week ago...) I was the youngest psyonic there at the age of twenty two, teach was the oldest at nine-thousand five hundred and some change. When teach hit her with the maturity hammer three weeks later, Alex learned just how different what she had thought maturity was from the real thing. The splash damage of that lecture hurt me, and the library had to be completely rebuilt from the ground up...
As it was, when Alex walked through the secret door in the study, we both fell dead silent, a mix of fear and acceptance in our eyes. She heard the entire thing, didn't she? I asked Teach psychically.
Yes. She answered. Her innocent smile promised blackmail in the near future.
"Oh dear..." Teach mumbled. "Well, young lord Richard (He called me this around Alex to avoid arguments about heritage), we should get back to studying the aura and charge of the universe. Perhaps mastering it if we get far enough..."
"That seems like enough for today." Richard said. "I promised not to tell anyone about my lessons, and you guys know how I am about promises." Collective groans came from his companions. "So I bid you all goodnight."
With that, everyone went to their rooms, Simon and Raison to one, Jarod and Richard to another. "Do you really think that this arrangement is wise?" Jarod asked his companion.
"They haven't tried to kill each other for months now! They'll be fine..."
"That wasn't what I meant..."
____________
Yeah in the 18th century, two inventions suggested a method of measurement. One won and the other stayed in America.
-Ghost destroying Fred
|
|
KuzAnn
Adventuring Hero
Explorer
|
|
posted March 19, 2011 02:49 AM |
|
|
Interesting. I want to see what happens next. Are the young ones going to participate directly in the war, or are we simply hearing their narration on the events?
Good writing overall, though I did spot a few small grammar errors, they're easily overlooked and don't really distract from the story. And btw, if I sound rude it's because I failed at conveying my message correctly, not because I'm actually trying to be mean. I'm trying to be helpful.
|
|
gnomes2169
Honorable
Undefeatable Hero
Duke of the Glade
|
|
posted March 19, 2011 04:53 AM |
|
|
The children not only join the war, but they become key characters in their own unique ways.
No, you don't sound rude... Sorry if I did in your fan-fic. (I was sort of rushed...) Original post edited, and I had more time to analyze, so there is a more in-depth description of what I liked there.
Thanks for the comment, I'll look for and correct those mistakes you mentioned, and add in the next installment (Raison) soon.
____________
Yeah in the 18th century, two inventions suggested a method of measurement. One won and the other stayed in America.
-Ghost destroying Fred
|
|
KuzAnn
Adventuring Hero
Explorer
|
|
posted March 19, 2011 05:10 AM |
|
|
Very cool! So do they grow up first, or do they participate as children? From here it looks like this could be a sort of background/prologue piece for Simon so we know more about him before we're plunged into the primary conflict of the story, but it would also be very interesting to see how the children are able to influence a war.
Oh no, you weren't rude at all. And here I was just saying that because some people take mentions of little mistakes as being mean. I was making sure that it was clear that I was trying to be helpful.
And... Little pet characters, I do love them so. :3 I wonder... Are those lizards naturally able to "talk," or is there a sort of god thing going on? (Alana's cat--which was a constellation that came down from the sky to help her--comes to mind.)
|
|
gnomes2169
Honorable
Undefeatable Hero
Duke of the Glade
|
|
posted March 19, 2011 05:17 AM |
|
|
We watch them, grow up quickly as their lives go to hell... Spoiler! In about twelve years, Richard leaves the ruins of his "School" and begins looking for his family. (Hence the name of the book...) And that is where the true story begins...
Nah, I actually used your comment to make the story flow better and used the correct time-action verbs/ subjects. Thank you for pointing them out.
The lizard is able to talk with Simon because Simon is, well... An elf! they just do things like that. 
____________
Yeah in the 18th century, two inventions suggested a method of measurement. One won and the other stayed in America.
-Ghost destroying Fred
|
|
KuzAnn
Adventuring Hero
Explorer
|
|
posted March 19, 2011 05:31 AM |
|
|
|
Kheeeeeee. *Settles down to wait for the next installment*
|
|
KuzAnn
Adventuring Hero
Explorer
|
|
posted March 19, 2011 08:17 PM |
|
|
Wow, I hope that Jerk Mom gets some serious comeuppance in the future! Grow a heart, lady! That's a kid you're being a wicked witch to!
Just one typo that I noticed this time, "doen't" from "He doen't need you, and I don't either!" And a little cleanup for the capitalization. ;]
|
|
gnomes2169
Honorable
Undefeatable Hero
Duke of the Glade
|
|
posted March 19, 2011 08:28 PM |
|
|
Actually, that was my weak attempt to show that, hey, Raison is still a kid. Therefore, she won't pronounce every letter in a word just yet... (Originally a typo, but I was to lazy to fix it  )
I actually have no story planed for the early years of Raison's life... sort of improving here. Suggestions are welcome 
____________
Yeah in the 18th century, two inventions suggested a method of measurement. One won and the other stayed in America.
-Ghost destroying Fred
|
|
KuzAnn
Adventuring Hero
Explorer
|
|
posted March 19, 2011 08:34 PM |
|
|
Ah, okay. ;] I thought it might be that, but wasn't entirely sure.
I dunno, maybe jerk lady and her hubby get mobbed by bandits on their way to the new home because they didn't have a skillful ranger man to protect them? Sort of a "wow you're stupid for pushing your protection away" comeuppance.
|
|
gnomes2169
Honorable
Undefeatable Hero
Duke of the Glade
|
|
posted March 19, 2011 09:44 PM |
|
|
Hey, Kuz! Have you heard about the Heroes Community Messenger system? It's a nifty little device that lets you communicate with other posters w/ out hitting the annoying 20 post limit
Also, I think that I'll be getting Jarod's entry in today... We'll see.
____________
Yeah in the 18th century, two inventions suggested a method of measurement. One won and the other stayed in America.
-Ghost destroying Fred
|
|
KuzAnn
Adventuring Hero
Explorer
|
|
posted March 20, 2011 01:31 AM |
|
|
|
Ah, now I can see that we're in the present(future?) looking back. So we've got elves and humans now. Poor kid, he didn't choose to be half-demon, or to be left all alone in the world. :[
|
|
gnomes2169
Honorable
Undefeatable Hero
Duke of the Glade
|
|
posted March 20, 2011 01:38 AM |
|
|
Yeah, he also didn't chose to be poor, or murder those people. But he did anyway. His life will be the worst of the four.
Wow, in a word document, I've written 10 pages already. 
Onto Richard! Away! (Will be writing for about 1~3 hours...)
____________
Yeah in the 18th century, two inventions suggested a method of measurement. One won and the other stayed in America.
-Ghost destroying Fred
|
|
KuzAnn
Adventuring Hero
Explorer
|
|
posted March 21, 2011 01:09 AM |
|
|
|
So does Richard look like a human, or is there something distinctly different about him?
|
|
gnomes2169
Honorable
Undefeatable Hero
Duke of the Glade
|
|
posted March 21, 2011 05:04 AM |
|
|
Te only real difference is his presence. With Teach, (He actually has a name, but it would be too big a spoiler to give that away now ), any normal person would feel like they were in the presence of something far more ancient then the forty year old that they see.
Richard has blue eyes, blond hair, white skin and is eventually rather tall with a medium build. AKA, Hitler's arian race
____________
Yeah in the 18th century, two inventions suggested a method of measurement. One won and the other stayed in America.
-Ghost destroying Fred
|
|
KuzAnn
Adventuring Hero
Explorer
|
|
posted March 21, 2011 05:41 AM |
|
Edited by KuzAnn at 05:43, 21 Mar 2011.
|
|
Or you could just call him "your stereotypical white dude." Instead of mentioning one of the most evil people ever to exist.
|
|
gnomes2169
Honorable
Undefeatable Hero
Duke of the Glade
|
|
posted March 21, 2011 05:44 AM |
|
|
OMG! Kuz just used her first HC emote! I... I'm so happy...
But back to the story, yeah, I guess I could have. But embellishment like that is what makes a good author  Also, a "stereotypical white dude" can have black hair as well, so this leaves far less to the imagination.
____________
Yeah in the 18th century, two inventions suggested a method of measurement. One won and the other stayed in America.
-Ghost destroying Fred
|
|
KuzAnn
Adventuring Hero
Explorer
|
|
posted March 21, 2011 05:50 AM |
|
|
But you told me what color his hair was, pretty much explained what he looked like, no need to bring Hitler's anything in on it at all. (Y'know, since some people might take you saying anything remotely positive about Hitler as meaning that you like/agree with him.)
And wouldn't having blond hair make you twice as blindingly white than if you had black/brown? Maybe it should be called "SUPER-WHITE" then. ;P
|
|
gnomes2169
Honorable
Undefeatable Hero
Duke of the Glade
|
|
posted March 21, 2011 05:58 AM |
|
|
For a moment there you had me concerned, thinking that you didn't understand the humor of this site.
Then the "SUPER-WHITE" comment popped up, and all was right with the world once more. 
I'll be writing in Jarod's second entry later today (Since it is now 12 o'clock here ). night Kuz!
____________
Yeah in the 18th century, two inventions suggested a method of measurement. One won and the other stayed in America.
-Ghost destroying Fred
|
|
gnomes2169
Honorable
Undefeatable Hero
Duke of the Glade
|
|
posted March 22, 2011 01:44 AM |
|
|
Interlude: Painful reminders. (Just so can order things in my mind better)
Jarod was the first to stumble out of his room once the rooster crowed. "Damned bird... It isn't even dawn yet!" The sound of his raised and cracking voice made him wince and put both of his hands on the side of his flushed face. It also woke everyone else up. Jarod sat down heavily on a bench in front of the bar. "A cool water and some red wine, please?" He asked the barkeep.
Al yawned and looked at him lazily. "Who are you again?"
Jarod, eyes literally blazing, grabbed the front of the barkeep's shirt and hissed, "You really, really, do not want to make me mad. Ever. So don't you dare think of getting on my nerves today." The barkeep, not a very tan man to begin with, grew five more shades of white.
"What, um..." The barkeep swallowed nervously, "What kind of red wine, sir?" He was trying to put his hand on a knife handle to put this overly-pushy customer back in his place. Jarod smiled more than a little psychotically when the barkeep grabbed a red-hot metal hilt. Al's eyes popped out of his head and the man gave a silent scream when smoke began to rise from his hand.
"Now then, little mortal. You have an excuse. To get. Me. Water." His face, smile and eyes promised hours of torment unless he was obeyed. Immediately. Jarod let go of the front of Al's shirt and the man stumbled back to a bucket of water. His unburned hand picked up an empty mug and he dunked this one into the barrel with his raw flesh. The slightly rotund barkeep sighed in relief and became visibly less tense. Then he remembered who had asked for water and carefully slid the mug down to Jarod.
The half-demon pressed the cooled glass to his forehead and waited for the barkeep to pass him his cup of red wine. Simon stumbled into the room, sporting a black eye. He looked at the mostly-empty tavern and groggily took in the situation. He saw Al gingerly holding a wet cloth to his hand while Jarod held the mug to his head and a knife stopped glowing a malevolent forge-red. Simon shook his head and decided that he didn't want to know. He took the seat to Jarod's right.
The first thing the half-demon said when he noticed Simon was, "And what the hell happened to you? Get a little rough last night?"
Simon glared at him. "For your information, there was only one bed and she elbowed me in her sleep." To the barkeep he yelled, "Can I have a damp cloth, please?" Al hurriedly gave it to him. "Thank you."
"So did you get her back?" Jarod asked suggestively. Simon elbowed him in the eye. The half-demon spilled quite allot of his water and swore rather loudly. "Now that was completely-!" Jarod started to protest when he found that he was talking, his lips were moving, his vocal cords vibrating and air passing through his throat, but he wasn't projecting his voice. At all. He rotated on his bench so that he could give Richard a choice death glare, "Stop that." he mouthed to the psyonic. His companion gave a great sigh, and Jarod felt the fabric of time and space settle down again. "Thank you. As I was asking, did you get her back?"
At that moment Raison decided to come in to the somewhat more filled bar as well. Simon cut his response short and, giving the counter an interested look, put the rag over his eye. She smiled pleasantly at all of them and asked Al if she could have a little something to settle her frayed nerves this morning. Giving all of them another once-over, the barkeep quickly gave her what she asked for. "And you sir?" Al asked Richard.
"Nothing for me. Unlike certain people here, I have neither a drinking problem that is entirely out of hand nor have I a violent dreamer." Richard explained to the man. "Though, for some reason I end up always paying for the bill..." He made a very obvious point to glare at Jarod when he said this.
"Fine! I'll get the less expensive stuff for a while." The man said, wincing from his headache and rubbing his sore eye as he did so.
"You'll be getting sober for a month and like it." Richard scolded. "And that includes women!"
"Now that is just too much to-"
"Ask? Fine, I'm not asking. I'm commanding."
The two elves were watching with mild interest now as Jarod squirmed in his seat. "You have no leverage! No right!" Jarod protested. "I'm a free man! I do what-"
"A free man who owes me every penny, scrap of metal, article of clothing and breath he takes. Yes. As I said," Richard gave him a victorious smile. "I command you to stop drinking and whoring. Got it?"
Jarod just muttered threats as the priest, who had been woken up by all the commotion, stumbled through the door, collapsing unceremoniously at Simon's feet. The dark elf helped helped the monk up and handed him the damp cloth. "There, there. A bit much rum at the party last night?" The priest nodded. "Hey, Jarod! You have a new buddy!"
"Oh you can just go-" And our intrepid reporter cannot write the rest of what he said, for the sake of our more delicate readers.
Simon raised his eyebrows and muttered, "good thing you don't have a mother to kiss with those lips..." Jarod threw the mug at him, which Raison deftly caught a foot away from his face. "Thank you dear."
She drank the rest of the water in the mug. "I was dehydrated." She said by way of explanation. They sat in silence for a while after that, and the priest got all of his supplies out.
"I'm ready when you are." He told Simon. Jarod tapped the monk's shoulder.
"Actually, I'm the one you're interviewing first today." When the monk opened his mouth to protest, Jarod snapped his fingers and a bright sphere of blue and green flame was dancing above his outstretched hand. "I'm. Going. First."
the monk nodded and questioned the reasons why he had taken, hell, he'd volunteered, for this job in the first place.
____________
Yeah in the 18th century, two inventions suggested a method of measurement. One won and the other stayed in America.
-Ghost destroying Fred
|
| |
|
|
