My Book. (WIP)

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My Book. (WIP)

Post  azer on Sun Nov 15, 2009 6:38 pm

This is the first chapter of the fantasy novel I am trying to write. Please ignore any weird words, they are part of the language I am creating. (One note: Nachtick is a racial slur for the Najun, or night dwellers [literally: people of the night] who are sort of like elves.)

Spoiler:
Prologue

Clank, Clank. The rhythmic strikes of pick hitting rock echoed throughout the subterranean cavern. Clank, Clank. No bats or reptiles stirred in those caves, driven away by the earsplitting noise. It saturated and filled the depths, potent enough to drive a man insane with the constant notes. The cave was craggy, and further down there appeared to be an amount of glittering mineral. Down on a ledge was a line of boys, breaking the rock into chunks with pixaxes. Other boys took the chunks away to have the small bits of mineral that were lodged in the rock separated and put into a barrel. The boys were as old as thirteen and as young as five, and thin and muscular from years of physical labor. As they worked, another boy came out of a door in the side of the tunnel, accompanied by a large Grum with a whip. As the boy appeared from the inner chambers of the cavern, the boy at the end of the line gave a low whistle, warning any idle boys to get working lest the Grum slavemaster see them. The newcomer walked down the line until he stopped in front of one of the older boys. He stood in front of the boy for a while, observing him. The other boy continued at his works, not acknowledging the boys presence.
"Hullo, Nachtick," The boy broke the silence.
“Hullo, Breton,” The older boy responded.
"I hear that you're going to be sent to the slavers next month. Daddy says that the only respite the Ja’qi give their slaves is when they're going to sacrifice them to their demon gods."
This was the way that things went in the mines. The children were sent in from hired kidnappers from around the world at the ages of four or five, and they were worked hard and cruel until the age of thirteen, when they were sent to the Ja’qi slavers, the lizardfolk of the jungle. Rumor had it that no boy survived more than a few fér there.
"You shouldn't be talking, Breton" he said. "I hear that the only reason you father doesn't ship you off is because your mother won't let him."
“You should watch it, Nachtick, I could persuade Daddy to sell you to a worker instead of a priest. You might live a few fér longer.
“I’ll be sure to tell the Ja’qi that you’d make a nice large sacrifice.”
Breton, red with anger, stepped up and punched Alyan in the face, furious.
"Nachtick scum! Let’s see you so smart when the Lizard-men cut out your heart and burn it on an altar."
The boy grinned as Breton walked away. He was not hurt a bit, and the punch had given him an opportunity to slip his hand into Breton's pocket and get just what he needed. He whispered to his neighbors:
"Tomorrow night. Pass it on."

Chapter 1

The following morning at work, the children were whipped relentlessly, but none of them cared. They were to preoccupied by the news that had come at last night's midnight meeting: They were going to have an Escape. The Escape had been some time in the making. For years the children had longed to get away from their cruel overseers, but had not had a means until Tom, a boy who worked in the uppermost reaches of the mine discovered that the patch he was mining was only a few strokes of the pick from the surface. It was then that it was decided to escape through that patch into the surface and run away, but even they had problems. The door to the quarters where the boys slept was always locked, and even then the boys had no food to last them; the storage hold was locked as well. Anything that might be used as a lockpick was kept away form the boys; silverware was carefully counted after each meal, and it was impossible to smuggle a pickaxe into the sleeping quarters under the watchful eye of Brox. Then, one day, a boy had spotted Breton showing a slavemaster a new pocketknife with several attachments. The boys knew that that knife could be used to pick the locks, but they had not gotten a chance to pickpocket it until that day. With it and the fire stone that Tom had filched, they just might be able to make it out and survive in the wild. Nightfall seemed to take an eternity to come that day. None of the boys slept, not even the younger ones, and, when the noises from the overseers of the mine had faded, they gathered around for a council.
“It is time,” said Alyan, the older boy whom Breton had struck. “The Escape will happen tonight. I tried the lock, and I can pick it easy.”
“What’ll happen if we’re caught?” asked one of the younger boys.
“We won’t,” said Alyan simply.
“So, what’s the plan, then?” asked Tom.
“We wait ‘till midnight, then gather up some food and things and get out of here”
“That’s it?”
“Well, can you think of a better one?” asked Alyan, a little defensively.
“Guess not,” said Tom. “What’ll we do in the meantime, then?”
“We wait,” said Alyan firmly.
When midnight came, Alyan walked up to the door, stuck the penknife into it, and, after some fiddling around, the lock clicked, and the door slowly creaked open. It took great self restraint on the part of the boys not to cheer, but they managed it, and Alyan and the older boys split their group up to do different tasks. Alyan and some of the stronger boys went to the food storage and came back with some waterskins, apples, and plenty of salted meat and jerky. The smaller boys stood guard as the party then crept into the main cave, picked up several pickaxes and started up the various ladders and stairways to the top. While they were climbing up, Alyan snuck off quietly. He knew he what he was about to do would be taking an enormous risk, and he did not want the others to see him. Quiet as a cat, he crept along to the hall that led to Larth's bedroom. When he got there, he discovered to his amazement that the door was ajar. He cautiously crept into the room and over to the drawers that contained Larth's papers. It creaked as he pulled open, and Alyan caught his breath. Larth stirred over on his bed, mumbled indistinguishably, and started to snore. Alyan slowly let his breath out, and started to rummage in the files. He found the ones he was looking for, and then, after more searching, pulled out a long folded piece of paper. He put the paper in his pocket, and then walked over to the fire. He started to feed the files into the fire, watching them disintegrate into little slivers of ash. When he had burned the last of the papers, he crept out of the room and went to join the others. They had started to work on Tom's patch, not with great strokes like in the daytime, for fear of waking Larth or the overseers, but with small taps. The noise still made them nervous, but as there was no noise from the lower chambers, they seemed to be safe. To their joy, the stone and earth was starting to crack, and after a short time they could see a gleaming light. Only some of the boys remembered moonlight, and it still mystified them. They started their picking again and soon the silvery light flooded the cavern. They stood, transfixed, and then walked through the hole into the night. They were in a forest, with birds hooting and the wind rustling through the trees. They did their best to patch up the hole behind them with rocks and sticks, and then started off deeper into the woods. They traveled some miles, sustained by their mutual desire to get as far away as possible from their former oppressors. When they finally stopped for a rest, they ate some salted meat and started up a small fire, using the fire stone. With the help of some of the larger boys, they soon had a roaring fire going. They all gathered around as Alyan started to speak.
“They’ll try to follow us with Wuls, you know. We need to find a stream of brook as soon as possible, that’ll hide our scent.”
“After, we lose ‘em, what’ll we do then?” asked Tom.
“Well, these woods go on for a while, but then Suluvia and ‘Qirt are after that, and we can easily hide in a big city.”
“Alright, but ‘till then, what’ll we do to survive? Our food won’t last forever.”
Alyan considered this for a moment, then said
“As soon as we can, we should kill some leq’s or something with rocks, and then I can make a proper stickthrower. I read in one of Breton’s books that you make stickthrower sting out of animal muscle.”
“Where did you get one of Breton’s books?”
Alyan shrugged. “Stole it.”
Tom whistled. “That’s settled, then. We should get some sleep.”
“Alright, but we should each take turns keeping watch.”
“Alright.”
“I’ll go first”
“Thanks.”
They slept well that night.


Last edited by azer on Wed May 26, 2010 4:46 pm; edited 3 times in total
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Re: My Book. (WIP)

Post  azer on Sun Nov 15, 2009 6:39 pm

Another note:

Alyan is Quenya elvish (LOTR elvish) for Asher
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Re: My Book. (WIP)

Post  BobShmob on Sun Nov 15, 2009 7:39 pm

I liked it a lot. Very Happy Very Happy Very Happy Very Happy Very Happy Very Happy Very Happy

The only thing is that the sentence "Down on a ledge was a line of boys, breaking the rock into chunks, which yet other boys took away to have the small bits of mineral that were lodged in the rock separated and put into a barrel." seemed slightly awkward.
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Re: My Book. (WIP)

Post  azer on Sun Nov 15, 2009 7:45 pm

Thanks
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Re: My Book. (WIP)

Post  eklipse13 on Sun Nov 15, 2009 11:39 pm

nice! i'm writing a story too... might post it later.
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Re: My Book. (WIP)

Post  TYUIOP on Fri Nov 27, 2009 9:54 pm

I think Ashers book is awesome
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Re: My Book. (WIP)

Post  eklipse13 on Sat Nov 28, 2009 4:33 pm

no duh, he's your brother...

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Re: My Book. (WIP)

Post  BobShmob on Sat Nov 28, 2009 5:01 pm

well actually, the typical thing a brother would say is that the books is awful- plz don't reply, or this will got off-topic Wink Wink
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Re: My Book. (WIP)

Post  CookieMonsterofthe42 on Fri Dec 04, 2009 7:48 pm

wow Asher I love it Very Happy
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Re: My Book. (WIP)

Post  azer on Wed May 26, 2010 4:45 pm

Alright, so I have canceled this book for now, for several reasons. First of all, my world has developed beyond the original vision I had for this book, the concept is not really original enough, and I had SERIOUS trouble getting inspired by it. In light of this, I am starting on a new work, which I will post here. It will take some ideas from my other story, and the protagonist will have the same name (because it is a cool name), but the basic premise is very different, and the world is a little different and less ripped-off from Tolkien...
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Re: My Book. (WIP)

Post  azer on Wed May 26, 2010 4:59 pm

Ok, so here is the new prologue:

PROLOGUE:

The room had been designed as a comfortable sleeping quarters, with a small but pleasant bed, a dusty desk, and a few rarely-lit candles, but for the boy who lived there, it was a prison.

He was almost eleven years old, but the thing he wanted most of all was his mother. He was rarely allowed to see his mother often, only every other week's end when Tulthan brought her down, the dangled bait to keep the boy from trying to escape.

His name was Alyan, which his mother had always told him meant blessed. This was one of many things his mother told him during their times together, and although he hated himself for it, he began to wonder if it too was just another lie, told to offset the endless misery of time.

He was tall, but thin and pale from a life spent indoors. He was fast though, and nimble, and had learned to slip notes to his mother undetected by Tulthan. He had black hair and grey eyes, and could be called handsome if not for the two small pointed horns almost concealed by his hair.
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Re: My Book. (WIP)

Post  azer on Wed May 26, 2010 5:01 pm

I know that it is short, but I feel that it does its job to form a basic and concise introduction to the story (rest assured that chapter 1 will be much longer, although it will take me a while).
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Re: My Book. (WIP)

Post  azer on Wed May 26, 2010 8:25 pm

replies, plz

Quadruple post? Consider yourself the über postmeister™️.
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Re: My Book. (WIP)

Post  GoodUsername on Mon May 31, 2010 6:34 pm

Sounds really good so far Happy
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Re: My Book. (WIP)

Post  BobShmob on Sat Jun 05, 2010 10:34 am

So far it is hard to get a feel for the actual plot/character (only because you have only posted a very small thingy), but it is very well written and I like it Happy
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Re: My Book. (WIP)

Post  azer on Thu Jun 17, 2010 11:54 am

Alright, at long last I have finished the next part of my story.

Right now, Alyan was reading. He was reading a small scroll his mother had slipped him unnoticed, and he was finding it quite interesting, and frightening. The scroll told him, in a neat shorthand, why he was here. It was, in effect the condensed history of his life.
His life had always seemed to Alyan an unsolvable oddity; he knew that his mother was a great mystic capable of mighty spells, but here he was, locked in an old bedroom, with his mother forced to teach Tulthan the secrets of the mystic. He often wondered why his mother could not turn Tulthan into a newt and take him out of there, just as he wondered why he had horns on his head, an occurrence that seemed, even to his limited knowledge, an oddity. He had sometimes seen other people through the windows of the dungeon that was his home, and while many of them did not resemble him in the least, they at least did not have horns. He supposed that there must be people with horns somewhere in the world and that his mother must have married one, as she certainly did not have horns. Through their secret written communications, Alyan had often asked his mother to explain these anomalies, and always she had refused, until now. Now, although he did not regret his asking, he was intimidated by what he found.
Alyan’s mother, whose name was Mulaya, had once been a respected and senior Mystician, one of the highest of their reclusive and tight-knit order. Unlike most mystics, she did not shun a public life, and was married to a wealthy nobleman. She had led a comfortable life, exploring the secrets of the arcane further than any of her colleagues, into realms untread by any before her. She became pregnant be the nobleman, but that did not stop her research. Her works were celebrated by all, and one night, several months into her pregnancy, she prepared a spell that would be her greatest yet, a spell that would allow her to glimpse the World Beyond the world. She prepared a room with all of her magical foci, her crystal ball and mirrors, and began the mental preparations for her magnum opus. She entered a deep meditation, gathering her power, until at last she released the spell. For one terrible moment her eyes opened wide, and she saw before her not the splendor of the Divine Being, as she had hoped, but the other part of the Beyond, the twisted monsters that are the soul of all the plentiful evil in the world. Her scream was heard throughout the tower, long and horrendous at the sight of the root of all the fear in the world. When Mages hurried to her room, she was sprawled on the floor, frozen on a position of terror. She did not awaken until days later, when she screamed again and almost ran from her bed. She recovered under the care of a healer-priest, but she did not tell anyone what she had seen, telling the mystics instead that she had had a nightmare amplified by the present magic. She resumed a normal life, temporarily refraining from magic, until the time came to bear her child. When it came, it soon became obvious that the woman had been affected by the darkness she had glimpsed. The child, a boy named Alyan, was marked with small horns and red eyes. The mages, appalled, cast both mother and child out of the tower, and left them to fend for themselves in the street. It is likely that a terrible fate would have befallen them both, but a young apprentice named Tulthan, deemed unexceptional by his tutors, saw on opportunity. Using a dark artifact to cut Mulaya off from her magic, he threatened to kill Alyan if she did not teach him in magic. She was forced to agree, and he hid them in the tower’s sprawling underground catacombs away from prying eyes. Mulaya reluctantly taught him in the mystic arts, while Alyan was kept as an assurance of obedience, locked in a room.


Last edited by azer on Mon Jun 21, 2010 10:21 am; edited 1 time in total
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Re: My Book. (WIP)

Post  BobShmob on Thu Jun 17, 2010 4:10 pm

This is getting more interesting Happy I like it.
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Re: My Book. (WIP)

Post  TYUIOP on Thu Jun 17, 2010 5:07 pm

Nice word choice
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Re: My Book. (WIP)

Post  okohokonu on Sun Oct 24, 2010 5:26 pm

ba dah bum bum bah!

I'm lovin it. I would definitely want to read this if I found it on a bookshelf. Keep up the awesome work!

Edit: sorry for the necropost (kinda) I didn't look at the date and hadn't seen this thread because of my extended absence so....


Last edited by okohokonu on Mon Oct 25, 2010 5:14 pm; edited 1 time in total (Reason for editing : APoloGy)
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Re: My Book. (WIP)

Post  trickynik on Mon Oct 25, 2010 12:25 pm

Very creative!

This would be a book that I would totally read! And that's saying something, seeing as I read very few books.
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