flickimp
Well-Known Member
Hi
Chapter 3 has been mucked around with, for the last 3 months...
It needs to tell some of the history of the world without revealing too much.
Each time I rewrite it, it feels like I am over-narrating, and then when I take parts out, it feels weak...
Please advise on grammar, commas, too much detail , not enough, boring, exciting...
This is a 2100 word extract, so apologies if that's too long...
Is there anyone out there that lives in Leicester UK? Be great to meet up to discuss ideas/advice.
-----------------------------------------------------
Chapter Three
Bed Mountains, suitably named for their low peaks and weathered slopes was not fitting for horse-driven carriages. Held firm by thick wooden beams and crafted stone blocks, the carved tunnels that ran through would save any passer from crossing over. For his army, carrying precious cargo back through the Mayurasin Forest to the tunnel would take considerable time, not withstanding the risk of sudden shocks.
Anguished as he was, Feli’op agreed for his warriors to aid the soldiers in beating a path to the West of the Forest, leading to the shoreline. A longer path to reach the opposite side of Bed Mountains.
Several trees had been felled around the Relic to protect bystanders from the volatile shakes that had lessened. The four horses from the first carriage were fastened to join the four on the second carriage, as the structure was dismantled and restructured to make a contained box. Spears from the Mayuri tribe and iron pikes from the soldier’s supplies, networked across the entirety of the box to provide a barrier from slippages.
Prayers were offered by the Mayuri people at the scarred land left by the removal of the Relic. Only the movement of the carriages and the marching of the soldiers could be heard for some time until they reached the shore, as if the priest had granted them safe passage away from their home.
The Relic-carrying carriage had swayed around the coast with the Bed Mountains lingering above earlier that morning. The horses did not agree with the tide or the seaweed covered shore, much to the amusement of some of the pushing soldiers.
“Neigh as much as you want!” teased one large soldier. “Cleaning this sand from my armour will be just as much fun!” He longed for respite and some brew, knowing they were half a day from the town.
Jerked by the Relic shaking, the horses kicked at the sand. Some of the soldiers backed away from the carriage; then resumed their positions.
Standing close; keeping guard, Rodri tapped his sword against the spears of the box. None had shifted. Their craftsmanship was standing up to the temperament of the enclosed. He motioned for the carriage to continue moving onto more stable ground.
“Do you think it is one of them?” whispered one soldier pushing the carriage.
“He said not to speak of it,” replied the soldier next to him, elbowing him in the helmet.
Letting the wind wave his long hair, Edominus walked ahead of the soldiers, commanding each step across the flourishing land towards Neh-Water. Thirteen days had passed since the King’s Council ordered the gathering of soldiers to inspect the Forest. Chosen for his trustworthy nature, Edominus had made haste, questioning little of the need to travel away from the ongoing attacks by the Eastern Mountains. He hoped to hear some words of victory from the forts along Sword Ridge.
Almost a year to the day, the first wave of new onslaughts began. The Belitas were barbaric and bloodthirsty; allied with the skilled weaponry of the more human-shaped Nakit, they were improving tactically and deceitfully. Edominus had been present when then navigated the ocean of Sinking Islands, but failed to capitalise. Barely known before, the nimble Nakit could penetrate the ranks of soldier, often disguising themselves as soldiers of Hazhindor. More hygienic and vocally adept at speaking than the larger Belitas made them hard to spot. Defence along the coast to the Sinking-Islands remained in the form of spring-loaded traps and fire-loading trebuchet forts.
Now the beasts of the East sought to pierce the forts along Sword Ridge. Fortune was it that the Northern and Southern lands were higher in altitude made detection of oncoming strikes from the East, effortlessly countered. Except the beasts had adapted. Uncovering ruined catapults from the unoccupied old ruins of Datindor in the North-East, progressed the archaic nature of the Belitas. They were improving day by day.
Why do they attack us? Was the question Edominus asked when joining the ranks of those that could pay their way to be versed in the literature of the Scholars Guild in Hazhindor.
To conquer the world.
Despite this not being entirely true, it was the appropriate notion pronounced by the King’s Council to be held by the Northern and Southern lands. Edominus knew more.
Paused by the sight of a ginger cat jumping down from a nearby tree, Edominus was reminded of the murky past that had once covered the world.
Opinion and evidence differed greatly as to the order of events, with thoughts of manipulation and intended half-truths sickening amongst the Scholar’s Guild. The King followed the majority that believed in the world being a place for men and his kind to reap and live, carving new corners and ridding the land of the dismal outcasts that differed in appearance. Impurity had affected men in an era long forgotten and gave them the unwanted appearance of the beasts as they came to be known. It was popular belief their exile to the East was forced upon them to allow mankind to grow pure. Resenting exile; longing for revenge, the beasts strive to invade; choosing every opportunity they found. A hundred years ago they came close.
Lord Ightar rose from the opposite mountains of Traitor Peaks. Intellectually superior; matchless in demeanour and mysterious; he removed the leaders of clans in the Beastlands until they knelt to his decree.
Ravaging the once strong fortress of Datindor with control of the Belitas race, Ightar hunted relentlessly; haste drive his crushing horde over Sword Ridge towards the newly united kingdom of Hazhindor, under strict rule by the then King; Reneoden. Calling to arms the Southern kingdom of Raichguard and survivors of Datindor, the King clashed with the might of Ightar along the Eastern Mountains in what came to be known as the Great War of Blood.
From far the west side of the mountains surged red for five days with neither side retreating; and then the tide turned and an likely form of help came to the aid of Hazhindor. The chasms in the centre of the Eastern Mountains descend below the surface; said to be haunted by ancient creatures of the world saw a large group of hope come up to retaliate against Ightar.
Forty cats, varying breeds; small and large; athletic; observant; incautious, came over from the chasms as if the world had answered the worrying call of man, woman and child. Bearing talents of breathing fire, suffocating winds, icicle projectiles and shaking the land beneath our feet, the mystifying cats swarmed down and weakened Ightar’s grip on our land. Surrounding him many poured onto his flesh, tearing at him, letting his anger seep out till his final breath. Sworn to serve Hazhindor, King Reneoden accepted the might of the Elemental-Cats and drove the remaining beasts back to their parasitic lands.
Edominus had heard from the minority of scholars that one of the Elemental-Cats had confronted Ightar in conversation during the last battle of the mountains. Strider, a black Elemental-Cat summoned some of the cats to sacrifice their lives with him to bring down the evil lord. Cloud Peak on the mountain was destroyed when the cats released a blinding display of blue light, believed to be combination of their powers. Both groups of scholars did agree on Ightar’s fate.
Soldiers and cats came down from the mountain, surviving the implosion of Cloud Peak, telling of Ightar’s body merging with the cats and soldiers to be reduced to a cocoon of rock and iron; splitting into four even pieces that vanished forthwith.
The beasts from the East were searching for the four pieces. For them, to conquer the world, they would have to bring back Ightar.
Twenty years after the Great War, three pieces of Ightar’s tomb were discovered; two along the Eastern Mountain; one buried in Sword Ridge, they became known as the Relics. Reneoden, suffering ill-health made clear to his son Prince Copilus and the recently appointed Council that the discovery of the Relics was to be kept hidden from the people of the Kingdom for fear of concern that the tomb was holding Ightar temporarily. Now they had the final piece; the forth Relic.
The Relics vanished for a reason, thought Edominus. Surely the scholars will tread carefully. Is this a key to restart the Great War again?
Edominus felt Rodri’s pat along his back. Unlike his leader, Rodri had never seen the three Relics residing deep within the confines of Hazhindor. Raised from the poor district he had resented the wealthier folk of the [ADD CITY NAME] city. Until, his moment of glory. Sneaking into the gladiatorial trials at the royal garrison, he outperformed the cadets and earned his place in the army. A young sergeant then, Edominus took to employing the young rogue.
“You show concern on your brow, Centurion.” Said Rodri.
“And you do not?” replied Edominus.
“The last Relic,” said Rodri holding his hands in the air as they continued walking. “The finest memory of a hundred years ago will finally be the King’s. And then what will happen? Will it simple slot with the other three and stop shaking? Or does it shake because it holds a dark secret inside that waits to escape?”
“Rodri,” said Edominus shaking his finger. “Ightar is dead. The Relics must be kept hidden from the Beastlands, or they will use it as a means to strengthen their forces against us. If they had sight of a Relic, they would march as one straight through Hazhindor.” He looked back at the carriage that had stopped again. “We hold the Relic; We hold Hazhindor’s grip.”
Seven soldiers followed the pace of Inmas; running way ahead of the soldiers; keeping watch for the descendents of the Belitas, the Beltosi. Just as rugged and rough in outlook, though smaller and expert in tunnelling. Some time after the Great War, the Beltosi had dispersed them-selves within Hazhindor, behaving as bandits and skirmishing with those they hated. Always moving; always hidden. Each year, several scout parties would embark from the larger villages bringing back trophies of Beltosi bodies, yet always passing tale of how the Beltosi were increasing in number and strategy. Each hair that flowed from the helmets of Inmas and Rodri were reminders of invaders they had eradicated.
Inmas was forever known as the masked blades-man. Never removing his helmet unless in private; hunting silently and pouncing with accuracy like a cat; this young adult swore devout allegiance to Hazhindor. He admired Edominus and often loathed Rodri’s cynicism. The seven soldiers were deeply honoured to be in his presence.
He grabbed a soldier’s long-bow; pulled back an arrow and waited. The soldiers followed his aim and peered out towards the long grasses that led to the reeds amongst the streams. Then, they saw a scruffy clothed man holding his hat as he ran with a fishing rod over his shoulder.
Counting each advance made by the man, then moving his aim further away to the right, Inmas released the arrow; lowered the bow; then signalled for three of the soldiers to inspect the man as he dropped; arrow straight through his neck.
Waving his wide-bladed sword, known as Splitter; forged by the iron-smiths of Trow Town, Inmas sent blades of grass into the air; then sheathed his sword when the three returned dragging a green-skinned Beltosi man. He cut one strand of hair from the Beltosi.
“We wait for the others.” Said Inmas, giving doubt to the soldier’s thoughts. Did he mean the arriving soldiers or more Beltosi?
“Stand back!” shouted Edominus as the Relic carrying carriage slanted lifting one side off the ground sending two soldiers onto their backs. Numerous soldiers jumped up to bring the carriage down onto all four wheels.
“Let go!” ordered Rodri as the Relic shook for a fifth time in succession. The distressed horses state of confusion made matters worse. Three horses tried to gallop, knocking into the other that stood still while flanked by guarding soldiers.
The shaking stopped. The soldiers anxiously looked at one another, unsure if another shock would occur or if they had ceased briefly. Rodri looked back at Edominus with a cautious eye and said, “We only hold Hazhindor’s grip for as long as that thing allows us.”
“Steady the carriage and check it’s state,” said Edominus. “We are close to Neh-Water. Make haste.”
Rodri clapped his hands and gestured the fallen soldiers to regain their composure. Edominus reached under his armour and pulled out a small bound book with a pen attached by thread. He looked back at the previous page and read to his latest entry.
Day 1 – Making fit the carriage for movement of the Relic; 3 Minor Trembles
Day 2 – Negotiating around Bed Mountains; 1 Minor
Day 3 – Approaching Neh-Water; 1 Minor, 5 Major
He turned to the map where he had marked each tremble. It trembles more as we approach the town, he thought.
Chapter 3 has been mucked around with, for the last 3 months...
It needs to tell some of the history of the world without revealing too much.
Each time I rewrite it, it feels like I am over-narrating, and then when I take parts out, it feels weak...
Please advise on grammar, commas, too much detail , not enough, boring, exciting...
This is a 2100 word extract, so apologies if that's too long...
Is there anyone out there that lives in Leicester UK? Be great to meet up to discuss ideas/advice.
-----------------------------------------------------
Chapter Three
Bed Mountains, suitably named for their low peaks and weathered slopes was not fitting for horse-driven carriages. Held firm by thick wooden beams and crafted stone blocks, the carved tunnels that ran through would save any passer from crossing over. For his army, carrying precious cargo back through the Mayurasin Forest to the tunnel would take considerable time, not withstanding the risk of sudden shocks.
Anguished as he was, Feli’op agreed for his warriors to aid the soldiers in beating a path to the West of the Forest, leading to the shoreline. A longer path to reach the opposite side of Bed Mountains.
Several trees had been felled around the Relic to protect bystanders from the volatile shakes that had lessened. The four horses from the first carriage were fastened to join the four on the second carriage, as the structure was dismantled and restructured to make a contained box. Spears from the Mayuri tribe and iron pikes from the soldier’s supplies, networked across the entirety of the box to provide a barrier from slippages.
Prayers were offered by the Mayuri people at the scarred land left by the removal of the Relic. Only the movement of the carriages and the marching of the soldiers could be heard for some time until they reached the shore, as if the priest had granted them safe passage away from their home.
The Relic-carrying carriage had swayed around the coast with the Bed Mountains lingering above earlier that morning. The horses did not agree with the tide or the seaweed covered shore, much to the amusement of some of the pushing soldiers.
“Neigh as much as you want!” teased one large soldier. “Cleaning this sand from my armour will be just as much fun!” He longed for respite and some brew, knowing they were half a day from the town.
Jerked by the Relic shaking, the horses kicked at the sand. Some of the soldiers backed away from the carriage; then resumed their positions.
Standing close; keeping guard, Rodri tapped his sword against the spears of the box. None had shifted. Their craftsmanship was standing up to the temperament of the enclosed. He motioned for the carriage to continue moving onto more stable ground.
“Do you think it is one of them?” whispered one soldier pushing the carriage.
“He said not to speak of it,” replied the soldier next to him, elbowing him in the helmet.
Letting the wind wave his long hair, Edominus walked ahead of the soldiers, commanding each step across the flourishing land towards Neh-Water. Thirteen days had passed since the King’s Council ordered the gathering of soldiers to inspect the Forest. Chosen for his trustworthy nature, Edominus had made haste, questioning little of the need to travel away from the ongoing attacks by the Eastern Mountains. He hoped to hear some words of victory from the forts along Sword Ridge.
Almost a year to the day, the first wave of new onslaughts began. The Belitas were barbaric and bloodthirsty; allied with the skilled weaponry of the more human-shaped Nakit, they were improving tactically and deceitfully. Edominus had been present when then navigated the ocean of Sinking Islands, but failed to capitalise. Barely known before, the nimble Nakit could penetrate the ranks of soldier, often disguising themselves as soldiers of Hazhindor. More hygienic and vocally adept at speaking than the larger Belitas made them hard to spot. Defence along the coast to the Sinking-Islands remained in the form of spring-loaded traps and fire-loading trebuchet forts.
Now the beasts of the East sought to pierce the forts along Sword Ridge. Fortune was it that the Northern and Southern lands were higher in altitude made detection of oncoming strikes from the East, effortlessly countered. Except the beasts had adapted. Uncovering ruined catapults from the unoccupied old ruins of Datindor in the North-East, progressed the archaic nature of the Belitas. They were improving day by day.
Why do they attack us? Was the question Edominus asked when joining the ranks of those that could pay their way to be versed in the literature of the Scholars Guild in Hazhindor.
To conquer the world.
Despite this not being entirely true, it was the appropriate notion pronounced by the King’s Council to be held by the Northern and Southern lands. Edominus knew more.
Paused by the sight of a ginger cat jumping down from a nearby tree, Edominus was reminded of the murky past that had once covered the world.
Opinion and evidence differed greatly as to the order of events, with thoughts of manipulation and intended half-truths sickening amongst the Scholar’s Guild. The King followed the majority that believed in the world being a place for men and his kind to reap and live, carving new corners and ridding the land of the dismal outcasts that differed in appearance. Impurity had affected men in an era long forgotten and gave them the unwanted appearance of the beasts as they came to be known. It was popular belief their exile to the East was forced upon them to allow mankind to grow pure. Resenting exile; longing for revenge, the beasts strive to invade; choosing every opportunity they found. A hundred years ago they came close.
Lord Ightar rose from the opposite mountains of Traitor Peaks. Intellectually superior; matchless in demeanour and mysterious; he removed the leaders of clans in the Beastlands until they knelt to his decree.
Ravaging the once strong fortress of Datindor with control of the Belitas race, Ightar hunted relentlessly; haste drive his crushing horde over Sword Ridge towards the newly united kingdom of Hazhindor, under strict rule by the then King; Reneoden. Calling to arms the Southern kingdom of Raichguard and survivors of Datindor, the King clashed with the might of Ightar along the Eastern Mountains in what came to be known as the Great War of Blood.
From far the west side of the mountains surged red for five days with neither side retreating; and then the tide turned and an likely form of help came to the aid of Hazhindor. The chasms in the centre of the Eastern Mountains descend below the surface; said to be haunted by ancient creatures of the world saw a large group of hope come up to retaliate against Ightar.
Forty cats, varying breeds; small and large; athletic; observant; incautious, came over from the chasms as if the world had answered the worrying call of man, woman and child. Bearing talents of breathing fire, suffocating winds, icicle projectiles and shaking the land beneath our feet, the mystifying cats swarmed down and weakened Ightar’s grip on our land. Surrounding him many poured onto his flesh, tearing at him, letting his anger seep out till his final breath. Sworn to serve Hazhindor, King Reneoden accepted the might of the Elemental-Cats and drove the remaining beasts back to their parasitic lands.
Edominus had heard from the minority of scholars that one of the Elemental-Cats had confronted Ightar in conversation during the last battle of the mountains. Strider, a black Elemental-Cat summoned some of the cats to sacrifice their lives with him to bring down the evil lord. Cloud Peak on the mountain was destroyed when the cats released a blinding display of blue light, believed to be combination of their powers. Both groups of scholars did agree on Ightar’s fate.
Soldiers and cats came down from the mountain, surviving the implosion of Cloud Peak, telling of Ightar’s body merging with the cats and soldiers to be reduced to a cocoon of rock and iron; splitting into four even pieces that vanished forthwith.
The beasts from the East were searching for the four pieces. For them, to conquer the world, they would have to bring back Ightar.
Twenty years after the Great War, three pieces of Ightar’s tomb were discovered; two along the Eastern Mountain; one buried in Sword Ridge, they became known as the Relics. Reneoden, suffering ill-health made clear to his son Prince Copilus and the recently appointed Council that the discovery of the Relics was to be kept hidden from the people of the Kingdom for fear of concern that the tomb was holding Ightar temporarily. Now they had the final piece; the forth Relic.
The Relics vanished for a reason, thought Edominus. Surely the scholars will tread carefully. Is this a key to restart the Great War again?
Edominus felt Rodri’s pat along his back. Unlike his leader, Rodri had never seen the three Relics residing deep within the confines of Hazhindor. Raised from the poor district he had resented the wealthier folk of the [ADD CITY NAME] city. Until, his moment of glory. Sneaking into the gladiatorial trials at the royal garrison, he outperformed the cadets and earned his place in the army. A young sergeant then, Edominus took to employing the young rogue.
“You show concern on your brow, Centurion.” Said Rodri.
“And you do not?” replied Edominus.
“The last Relic,” said Rodri holding his hands in the air as they continued walking. “The finest memory of a hundred years ago will finally be the King’s. And then what will happen? Will it simple slot with the other three and stop shaking? Or does it shake because it holds a dark secret inside that waits to escape?”
“Rodri,” said Edominus shaking his finger. “Ightar is dead. The Relics must be kept hidden from the Beastlands, or they will use it as a means to strengthen their forces against us. If they had sight of a Relic, they would march as one straight through Hazhindor.” He looked back at the carriage that had stopped again. “We hold the Relic; We hold Hazhindor’s grip.”
Seven soldiers followed the pace of Inmas; running way ahead of the soldiers; keeping watch for the descendents of the Belitas, the Beltosi. Just as rugged and rough in outlook, though smaller and expert in tunnelling. Some time after the Great War, the Beltosi had dispersed them-selves within Hazhindor, behaving as bandits and skirmishing with those they hated. Always moving; always hidden. Each year, several scout parties would embark from the larger villages bringing back trophies of Beltosi bodies, yet always passing tale of how the Beltosi were increasing in number and strategy. Each hair that flowed from the helmets of Inmas and Rodri were reminders of invaders they had eradicated.
Inmas was forever known as the masked blades-man. Never removing his helmet unless in private; hunting silently and pouncing with accuracy like a cat; this young adult swore devout allegiance to Hazhindor. He admired Edominus and often loathed Rodri’s cynicism. The seven soldiers were deeply honoured to be in his presence.
He grabbed a soldier’s long-bow; pulled back an arrow and waited. The soldiers followed his aim and peered out towards the long grasses that led to the reeds amongst the streams. Then, they saw a scruffy clothed man holding his hat as he ran with a fishing rod over his shoulder.
Counting each advance made by the man, then moving his aim further away to the right, Inmas released the arrow; lowered the bow; then signalled for three of the soldiers to inspect the man as he dropped; arrow straight through his neck.
Waving his wide-bladed sword, known as Splitter; forged by the iron-smiths of Trow Town, Inmas sent blades of grass into the air; then sheathed his sword when the three returned dragging a green-skinned Beltosi man. He cut one strand of hair from the Beltosi.
“We wait for the others.” Said Inmas, giving doubt to the soldier’s thoughts. Did he mean the arriving soldiers or more Beltosi?
“Stand back!” shouted Edominus as the Relic carrying carriage slanted lifting one side off the ground sending two soldiers onto their backs. Numerous soldiers jumped up to bring the carriage down onto all four wheels.
“Let go!” ordered Rodri as the Relic shook for a fifth time in succession. The distressed horses state of confusion made matters worse. Three horses tried to gallop, knocking into the other that stood still while flanked by guarding soldiers.
The shaking stopped. The soldiers anxiously looked at one another, unsure if another shock would occur or if they had ceased briefly. Rodri looked back at Edominus with a cautious eye and said, “We only hold Hazhindor’s grip for as long as that thing allows us.”
“Steady the carriage and check it’s state,” said Edominus. “We are close to Neh-Water. Make haste.”
Rodri clapped his hands and gestured the fallen soldiers to regain their composure. Edominus reached under his armour and pulled out a small bound book with a pen attached by thread. He looked back at the previous page and read to his latest entry.
Day 1 – Making fit the carriage for movement of the Relic; 3 Minor Trembles
Day 2 – Negotiating around Bed Mountains; 1 Minor
Day 3 – Approaching Neh-Water; 1 Minor, 5 Major
He turned to the map where he had marked each tremble. It trembles more as we approach the town, he thought.
