tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26180654982147653582024-03-12T22:30:37.211-07:00Thor's Guide To WritingJourney together with me as I learn how to write my first novel!Thorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12718091563257245519noreply@blogger.comBlogger29125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2618065498214765358.post-50483467136289029512012-02-01T18:30:00.000-08:002012-02-01T18:30:02.136-08:00Chapter 4 - part 2<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> Asadi walked through the meadows, a short distance from the hiding place of the council chambers, in the center of Lomond forest. The soft grass bent under the weight of her bare feet as she slowly and thoughtfully took each step. The sound of nymphs filled the air. Asadi stopped for a moment to listen to their conversations and watch their activity before passing on. The nymphs were the largest reason that the council chambers had remained hidden so well. The forest Lomond held a larger population of nymphs than any other place west of the Misty River. No one with any sense traveled through the forest, for even the most adept tracker could be easily lost if the nymphs did not allow him passage.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Asadi,” One of the nymphs called. “You must see Irandiil now. He has information for you and the council. About thirteen nymphs approached, each no bigger than a man’s finger. One might question what use a nymph could be upon first seeing one, but Asadi knew the strength of a nymph that lay hidden unless they wished to show it.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">She quickened her pace to follow the nymphs, her long, brownish-red waves lifted off her slender frame to be tossed around by her momentum as she walked toward the fairy circle not too far ahead. There have been many a story told about what a fairy circle is and the things that might happen to one who is caught therein, but Asadi approached the circle with confidence knowing that this fairy circle was a gathering of the fairy leaders in the area.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Several bowed at the seer’s approach. Asadi began to glow slightly then seemed to disappear altogether; a small nymph with Asadi’s likeness filled the area she once encompassed. Her wings took her to a dandelion, barren of its seeds. The meeting was similar to a round room meeting that one might expect to find in any castle with the king, his guards, advisors, and any guests in a circle. The major difference to be noted was that nymphs did not use furniture; they either flew or rested on nature, in this case, most were resting on flowers and grass although the more heavily armored guards were encircling the area in flight.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Asadi, we have grave news indeed,” Irandiil spoke first. He was the king of the nymphs and Asadi’s uncle. His face was hardened by war and stress. He and his fathers before him continually battled the Daimonion in an attempt to prepare the way for the return of Iskatar. They alone, among the people of Ardiil, had not lost faith in Iskatar. Irandiil rested on a blade of grass like many others. “A report has just come in from our scouts in the plains of Manath.” He turned his head to a nymph kneeling before him.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Ma’am,” The nymph scout began, “We were scouting the area and saw a small battalion of the Korgar’s soldiers carrying a prisoner. We were too small a troupe to try a rescue, for the Daimonion with them were numerous, but we kept watch. The prisoner was branded and tortured before finally being rescued and taken to the town of Althein. The part that we thought you might be interested to know is that the brand laid on his back was that of the line of Huor. The Korgar believe him to be the lost son of the line of Huor.” The nymph bowed and stepped back.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“What?” Asadi asked. Her shock showed plainly through her small features. “Has he finally been revealed?”</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Our scouts are keeping an eye on him, and I have just sent a full troupe of my elite soldiers to protect him, but it may not be enough without your help. Your council must act quickly.” Irandiil spoke with the authority of one accustomed to being heeded.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“I will convene the council at once. Thank you for the information, high king Irandiil. As usual, our council is in your debt.” Asadi bowed and left the circle.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Upon resuming her human figure, Asadi ran toward the meeting room of the council. Hear me, brothers. We must meet at once. Her thoughts echoed through some spaceless rift and found its home in the thoughts of each council member. Before an hour had passed, the council sat together and Asadi shared her story.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“I believe that the Korgar will attack and try to destroy this son of Huor before the work of Iskatar can come to fruition in him.” Asadi spoke to the attentive council, her voice conveyed the urgency her words formed. “I have seen a march against the town of Althein, but I did not know why until Irandiil spoke to me.” Upon finishing, Asadi sat and the seven-foot tall Ikari stood.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“He will require our help if he is to reach the Netherworld. The task may be upon him after that, but until then Senna and I will watch over him and teach the son of Huor all that we may. Perhaps we even ought to take him across the river for a time.”</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Kotari stood and met Ikari’s deep-brown eyes. “We will not take him across the river, at least not yet. There is a world there he does not understand. You and Senna will, however, train the boy as well as you might. Above all, protect him. That is your sworn duty until he has crossed the border into the Netherworld.” Ikari bowed then sat as Kotari turned to face Lokai.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Curthadir, how is the girl? Luran believes that her time is near.”</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Lokai remained seated, but turned a serious look toward Kotari, “You cannot truly expect that she will be ready any time soon. She is working hard and we are all teaching her as best as we can, but there is much fear in her. She has much to learn.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Even we, who were taught by Iskatar himself, could not have learned everything in such a short time. It took us nearly twenty years to even be wise enough to return to Ardiil. It is impossible that she should learn any quicker, for we are not as great at teaching as Iskatar.”</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Kotari lessened the severity of his look and responded to Lokai, “It has not been appointed for her full training to take place with us. She must learn as much as possible here, but then she will learn much elsewhere. The important thing is that she is grounded and that the two of you are ready to go as soon as we receive word from Ikari and Senna.”</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Kotari turned his eyes from one end of the council member’s table to the other and said, “The time we have waited for is now. This is where uncertainty begins, but it was for this time that we were called. This time in Ardiil’s history will tell why we are alive. We are here only to do what we have been called to, no more and no less. Let us live this moment out without fear lest we fall short of the goal. May Iskatar’s hand guide us all.”</span><br />
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</div>Thorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12718091563257245519noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2618065498214765358.post-89380458510100131292012-01-27T15:48:00.000-08:002012-01-28T09:38:35.142-08:00Ways to Make a Good Book Better<h3>
<span style="color: #38761d;">Preface</span></h3>
Last week, I met my friend, Jon, at Forza for coffee. For those of you who don't live in Denver or haven't heard of Forza, it's a nice local coffee shop Jon showed me when we first started hanging out about a year ago. They have this great drink called a Ventian Late. Sadly, I have no idea what's in it, but it's really good. I tried their Holy Spumoni once, and it was so sweet I almost wanted ice cream to calm down the flavor. It was good, don't get me wrong, but it was very sweet, so make sure you're in the mood before you try it. It's located on 104th street just west of Federal, if you decide to look it up.<br />
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Having said that, we had a great meeting. Jon is a pretty good author and has been writing for a lot longer than me. He's never actually published anything and is pretty shy about letting people read his work, but ever since I started this project, he's been a great motivation. For some reason, the little icon that shows he's following me says "Keoni Keller." Why is that anyway?<br />
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Anyway, to get back to the story, he had a lot of ideas on how I could continue to improve on what I'm doing, so I wanted to share them with you here. I didn't take notes, but I think I remembered most of them, so I'll do as best as I can. If I forget something, feel free to leave a comment, Jon.<br />
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Before I write the methods of making a good book better, I want to pass on the warning Jon gave me. Don't ever stop writing to edit your book until you're done with the book. He told me not to apply any of these ideas to stuff I've already written. He says that when I finish my entire book, I should then go back and fix it all at once. I am going to start applying these ideas from here forward though.<br />
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Watch the Grammar</span></h3>
I personally hate grammar. I never liked diagramming things in school, and I still can't tell you what an indirect object does. I usually try to forget about grammar, and I'd much rather write like I talk than like some sort of school paper. Despite all that, Jon gave me some great reasons having good grammar helps make your book better.<br />
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1) Punctuation changes the meaning of a sentence:</span></h4>
Proper punctuation can clear up a lot of confusion. Jon showed me a wikipedia entry about the serial comma versus the Oxford comma: <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Serial_comma">Serial comma entry</a>. The point wasn't the article itself but some of the examples that show how you use a comma can change a sentence completely. The first example right under the "Unresolved Ambiguity" heading was my favorite. I won't give any examples here for the sake of keeping things simple, but feel free to look at it for yourself.<br />
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2)Simplicity:</span></h4>
A sentence makes a lot more sense and is a lot more simple when all of the words are correct and match the sentence. For example, affect versus effect. I still don't know the difference between these. Jon and I spent a while talking about the difference, but he also told me to look on <a href="http://grammar.quickanddirtytips.com/">Grammar Girl</a> to clarify when I don't know which one to use. When someone with a good vocabulary read my work, they need to be able to tell exactly what I'm saying.<br />
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--Addendum on grammar:</span></h4>
There is a thing called a hanging participle. Apparently I use these all the time. A hanging participle is when you have an "-ing" verb that should be related to a noun but is somewhere else in the sentence.... Now that I read that, I have no idea what I was trying to say. Let me give an example:<br />
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Jim went to the store expecting to find a book.<br />
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In this example, the word expecting modifies the noun it's next to. So, the store is expecting to find a book, no Jim. In order for this to be correct, the sentence should read:<br />
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Expecting to find a book, Jim went to the store.<br />
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I would never talk like that, but Jon showed me how it can create a lot of confusion if you don't do it correctly. I had never heard of a participle, much less a hanging one (reminds me of a hang nail), but I am going to watch for them from now on.<br />
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Keep the narration voice consistent</span></h3>
Jon pointed out several areas that I go from an archaic voice to a more modern voice. In the earlier chapters that I showed Jon before posting them, he pointed out that some characters spoke with "ye" instead of "you," but they didn't stay consistent in the accent otherwise. It's important to make sure you have a single narration voice and all your characters are consistent or the reader will become lost in what is happening. It's easy for the reader to loose focus if you don't maintain something consistent for them to hold on to.<br />
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Keep the characters separate from one another</span></h3>
Apparently a lot of people, myself included, tend to speak in their own voice when they write, but when you have a book with multiple characters, especially when you are writing from multiple points of view, it's easy to mix and blend the character voices, but it's important to keep them separate. The more distinct you can keep the character voices, the easier it is for the reader to follow and the more fun it is for them to get involved in. Characters become more real when they are more distinct. Try to imagine going to a movie where every character looked and sounded the same. Would that be fun or confusing?<br />
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Look at things from the character's point of view when writing</span></h3>
Here's one that I've realized going back over my book, when I write, I see the falls in the Netherworld and hear the sound of the river rushing by. I feel Natalie's adrenaline when the armies of the Korgar come by and Kaelon's pain as he's beaten to the ground. As the reader, you only feel what I describe to you. You only see the vistas I explain. When I write, I should have been writing with more description, seeing these things as the character sees them.<br />
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I should also describe them like the character would describe them, and not like I would describe them. The characters should all see the same thing in slightly different ways, and it should be described differently. This will give the reader a better sense of reality. I really want to go back and describe some areas more, but Jon encouraged me to keep writing until I was done, no matter what.<br />
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Don't rush the story</span></h3>
It's not about getting to the end of the book and being able to say, "I wrote a book." It's about telling a story and a journey. I've really been trying to get through the book because I want to be able to tell people about my book. I want to know what happens myself. When I play games, I rush through the main story and forget the side ones because I'm so interested on what's going to happen.<br />
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In real life, there are a lot of side stories that contribute to the main story. When we think about the Battle at Thermopylae, most of us think about the main story, the 300 Spartans who fought an army, but few of us think about what got them to that point or why those men were fighting or why they held off and fought until the last man was dead. If you think about it though, a story about just the battle would be short and fairly dull. It's the lives of the people who contributed that makes things interesting. Think of the movie "300." The battle that the movie was based on takes several minutes out of a couple-hour film. Don't rush the story. Stop to see the world sometimes.<br />
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Always have Jedi ^_^</span></h3>
This one is actually a joke. Jon and I have been playing SWTOR together a lot recently, so he said "no task is impossible when you have a Jedi around."Thorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12718091563257245519noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2618065498214765358.post-35669759909023303282012-01-22T21:27:00.000-08:002012-01-27T13:02:34.683-08:00The Journey to the Milk Tea<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I was referred by a friend (colleague? supporter? ^_^), named Unity, to Milk Tea. After hearing about this intriguing drink (some of you may know I like tea with milk), I decided to study up on it. Come to find out, Milk Tea means a variety of things in a number of different cultures. Wikipedia left me no closer to uncovering the truth of this new drink than I had been before.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When I googled Milk Tea in Denver, I found something called Boba Tea. This was far too interesting for me to pass up. I learned that boba tea is more often called Pearl Milk Tea, so apparently it's a type of Milk Tea. One type of Boba Tea is called Pearl Black Tea (I wish it was called Black Pearl Tea)!</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0F0ixKJJ4jmyVb6W35hxfSnqrcaY30oEPTkLNpBp0ro84gnnuUqCDEf56m897-XwZgCH8JCuhvUCo_KgLlZT1RhBTXK9jIQw6d4R9xy9hyHsZhl7KKNfahLR8V8a1JW_AqZBJGDG24vw/s1600/Lollicup.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="139" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0F0ixKJJ4jmyVb6W35hxfSnqrcaY30oEPTkLNpBp0ro84gnnuUqCDEf56m897-XwZgCH8JCuhvUCo_KgLlZT1RhBTXK9jIQw6d4R9xy9hyHsZhl7KKNfahLR8V8a1JW_AqZBJGDG24vw/s320/Lollicup.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I went down Federal until I found what appeared to be the closest Lollicup in town. Above is a picture of the fine establishment. I wasn't sure what I had walked into until I stepped inside. It looked quite nice inside, and the list of drinks was huge. There must have been 50 drinks to choose from. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Now, before I blow this way out of proportion, some of the drinks were similar to others with one or two differences, but the list was impressive nonetheless. I ended up ordering a Taro Milk Tea. The guy there asked me if I wanted Boba, which I had forgotten about in my search for the shop, so I agreed. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">To give you background, I don't know what Taro is. I could look it up since I'm sitting here on the computer anyway, but that sounds like too much effort ;) Anyway, I'm having fun telling my story, so I'll do it later. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So you all know, Taro is some sweet flavored thing. It almost seems like a fruit or something from the way it tasted. I'm pretty sure Taro is purple or light blue too, because the drink was purple with these black balls in it. The black balls were the boba I had heard so much about. I was about to embark on an adventure. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">After drinking my first boba, I almost swallowed it without getting a chance to taste it. They're slippery and slide down your through easy as ice or something similar. They're slightly sweet, but that may be because of the drink's flavor. The boba are soft and chewy and almost feel like a doughy bread once you bite into them. Apparently they are tapioca, so that might make sense.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When I was most of the way through the drink, I wished I had brought a friend with me so I could have a boba war with them. For anyone who has ever had a boba tea, just imagine how much fun it would be to have one of those straws, a cup full of boba, and a lot of friends to shoot the boba at! I need to figure out where to buy these things!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">How about this for a new company: a smaller version of a paintball field where you buy a cup of boba and a straw then you run around and shoot them at your friends. The boba are pretty sticky, so it should be easy to see who won, especially if you add food coloring. It would be great!..... until someone tripped and caught the straw in his throat.... hmmmm, better think this one through better....</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Oddly enough, Boba tea actually fills you up pretty well too. Just so you know if any of you decide to go. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I know this post has been far different than most of my posts, but I wanted to tell you about this new experience I've had; it was quite a pleasure. Next post: </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">back to my book!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">PS - For any of you who are reading this blog, please let me know if you prefer to read the book itself or about my experience writing the book. Thank you for your continued reading!</span>Thorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12718091563257245519noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2618065498214765358.post-347726472388876462012-01-15T16:25:00.000-08:002012-01-15T16:30:09.121-08:00Chapter 4 - part 1<br />
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Natalie trudged along, exhausted from trying to get everything done that was required of her. Her footsteps turned shuffles from physical strain as she, taking water to a village from the lake below, made her way up mountain pass. The road twisted back and forth for a mile and a half to get from village at the top of the mountain to the river beneath it. Violets, shrubs, and some sort of grassy plant Natalie wasn’t familiar with inundated the mountain, with only rocks to mark the path. Evergreen trees and rocks filled in on either side of the path to obscure the view from the river to the village above. Patches of snow still dotted the mountainside from the snow last week. It wouldn’t have been such an arduous task if she had not already made the trek twice today.</div>
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The village was full of people who had fled the Korgar. Somehow, the council would find them and send an escort to bring them back to this village. Nearly five hundred people lived in the village. In the village, everyone had a job or role to help sustain the people who lived there. A few of the people who normally fetched water had become ill recently, so the council offered Natalie’s help until they were able to heal. Natalie enjoyed helping at first, but by the end of the first day, she was more sore than she could ever remember being. The second day, they gave her a break, at least that’s what they called it, by having her help threshing the grain. The rest of the week, she had been back to work on the mountain pass. Natalie couldn’t understand how people her age could stay sick so long while she had to do their work.</div>
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<i>Asadi was right when she said it would be tough if I joined this council, but I expected war or something, not these stupid tasks. A slave? Is that what they want? Someone to do the things they’re too good to do? I’ll never please them! </i>Natalie grew angry. <i>Every time I mess up in the smallest way, they make sure I know it. They may not say it, but the way they look at me says they know. I can’t even tell a small lie without Asadi’s terrifying eyes staring into my soul! It’s like she’s not even human. </i>“Aaaah!” Natalie allowed herself to scream.</div>
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Natalie dropped one of the two buckets of water she carried on the pole across her back and watched it roll down the pass and off a ledge toward the lake where she came from. After several seconds of mixed sadness, exhaustion, and anger while she watched the bucket roll, she threw the pole and other bucket down. “I give up,” she screamed. “You hear me? I give up!”</div>
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“What’s the trouble?” Lokai asked with a very calm voice. Natalie glanced up and saw him sitting on a rock slightly above her on the winding mountain road.</div>
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“How do you people do that? One minute I’m alone, and as soon as I mess up, you’re there.” Natalie’s anger rose at seeing him.</div>
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“I was here before you arrived with your water. I was thinking until you came by. You seem troubled. Is something the matter?” Lokai walked toward Natalie.</div>
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“No.” Natalie raised her voice. “There’s no problem, except that I might as well have died for how much of a life you allow me here! I’m spending so much time helping these people in that village that I can’t even sleep, much less care for myself. I haven’t bathed in two days and my eating habits are no better. I’m angry, but you won’t even let me be angry, you say, <i>even being angry against someone is murder against them</i>. You knew that would make me remember since my sister was just killed!” Natalie paused for a few seconds but continued as angry as before when the wizard gave no answer. “And yes, I wish I was as beautiful and powerful as Senna and Asadi, but you won’t even let me try.” Tears threatened to interfere with Natalie’s anger by forming in her left eye, but she quickly wiped them, not allowing herself the luxury.</div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Hmmm.” Lokai ran his fingers thoughtfully along his beard. “You’ve only been at this for a week now. Shouldn’t you just calm down and keep going. We’re trying to help you become stronger, and the village greatly benefits from your help. Is it really so hard to give up your wants for someone else for a while?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“<i>Is it so hard?</i>” Natalie repeated indignant. “Yes it is. You want me to be something I’m not, and I can’t do it. What is it worth anyway? Why am I wasting my time trying to follow your codes and laws and rules for me? Why not train one of these villagers to help you instead. Apparently you care more about them than you do about me!”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Lokai looked seriously in Natalie’s face for a moment before speaking, “Are you angry because we’re asking these things of you, or are you angry because you don’t think we care about you? What is really bothering you, Natalie Dumar? I would be glad to help if I knew.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The new seriousness in Lokai’s tone made Natalie pause to think, but she knew she couldn’t back out now. “I just want time for myself. I want to be taken care of and not constantly take care of others. I want to be cared about. I want to be beautiful. People used to tell me I’m beautiful, and now every time I look in the lake to draw water, all I see is the dirt on my face and the ratty hair on my head because I haven’t washed, and the dark circles under my eyes from not sleeping enough.” Natalie rubbed the tears that began welling over from her eyes.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“What if I told you that the only way to be completely free from the Korgar was to learn to love others better than yourself. If you can be bought by your greed or your desires for yourself, they will enslave you. If you care about someone else more than yourself, then whether you live or die, you’ll never be their slave. Many men have given up their families and villages and friends to the Korgar for riches or fame or land or power, but in the end, each one becomes more of a slave to the will of the Korgar than he ever could have been otherwise.” Lokai placed his hands on her shoulders and drew her closer. “We have asked you to do these things because we love you, and we want you to never become a slave to them. I may have gone about things wrong though, and for that I’m sorry.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Natalie’s defenses slowly began to crumble. Her lip quivered as she began to respond, “I... I want to do the things you tell me... but... but, I can’t. It’s too hard.” Natalie let a sob slip and hung her head at her miserable defeat.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Oh, my child, you are strong, and you are learning.” Lokai, grabbing Natalie and holding her to his chest spoke softly. “Great men have explored half the world and not known what you just learned. You cannot be perfect as you are, but you must find a way.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Natalie didn’t even look up, none of it made sense. Tears soaked into Lokai’s robe as she held onto his waist. He reminded her of her grandfather right now. Both of them seemed very hard, but she decided that Lokai must care for her like her grandfather did.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“The Korgar prey on fear because fear and selfishness are brothers. It is easy to make someone fear out of selfish desire, and once that is done, brother will turn against brother, father against daughter, and war will never cease. As long as the land is in chaos, there will be none to oppose them.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“But, Lokai” Natalie said softly, her head still down, “How can I ever overcome fear and selfishness when I can’t even carry water and smash grains? It’s not possible…” Her voice trailed off, and she removed herself from him.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Love,” the old man replied gently. “Love for another conquers fear, and selfishness with it. If a man ran into a burning building, he would be called a lunatic, but what kind of person would he be if he ran into the building to save a child or mother or friend? ” Lokai walked to the edge of the cliff. “Come here.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Natalie came to the edge of the pass, where Lokai stood, and gazed down the sheer drop off the edge. She edged back from the precipice to keep her balance.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Now jump off,” Lokai said.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“What?” Natalie asked. She looked down again to see the drop was probably fifty feet down. “No.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Do you trust me?” Lokai turned to the girl behind him. “What I am asking you to do is lunacy, and it is difficult, much like taking water to the village, but I assure you that if you do as I ask, I won’t let you fall.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Natalie looked down then back at Lokai silently.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Let me ask again, do you trust me?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“I think so.” She responded hesitantly.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Then jump. Don’t be afraid; I promised I wouldn’t let you get hurt.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“How will you stop me from dying if I jump? Or will I just be a cripple the rest of my life?” Natalie spoke a little louder.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Lokai grabbed Natalie’s shoulders and looked her seriously in the eyes. “Stop asking questions. I won’t push you, so you have to choose. If you trust me, then jump.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Natalie looked over the edge again then backed away. “I’m not sure...” Natalie responded, but before she could think any further about it, a movement to her left caught her attention. Natalie watched as Senna jumped off the cliff and began the freefall down. As she watched Senna nearing the ground below, Natalie saw Lokai running faster than any man should be able to down the side of the cliff beside her; he pulled her into his arms. By the time the duo reached the bottom, Lokai held Senna in his arms and stood firmly on the ground, a trail of dust on the wall behind him.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Lokai placed Senna on the ground and looked up at Natalie. “Fear would have kept me from saving her, but I love her enough to act in lunacy to save her.” He shouted the words, but they seemed as though he were standing next to her. “Go take a bath and sleep. We’ll finish your chores for today. Lokai grabbed the bucket next to him then he turned with Senna and continued the trek down the mountain.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Natalie stood there in shock, uncertain of what to think. <i>How did the old man…? But he was… This is a stupid place; nothing seems to make sense</i>. Natalie complained, but she remembered her dreams of a place where she could run without getting tired and where she could fly or use a bow or save a man from the monster. <i>Will things ever make sense?</i> Natalie looked down the hill at Senna and Lokai who were talking. With her thoughts to accompany her, Natalie began the trek up the mountain to where her bed awaited her. She suddenly felt more tired than she had before.</div>
<br />Thorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12718091563257245519noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2618065498214765358.post-8452157458736690542012-01-09T13:55:00.000-08:002012-01-09T13:55:00.784-08:00Chapter 3 - part 3<br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Kultas Baer’s tall
frame with long, black hair stood in contrast to the field around him. His
abundance of muscles rippled as his shovel sunk into the earth. It was near
time to plant crops again, and the fields needed tending. The work was tedious,
but had made his living for as long as he could remember. The sound of a racing
horse in the heat of the day brought most of the small town out to see what was
happening. Kultas’ head dropped as he saw his son’s horse bearing only one
rider. <i>Neither boy would have abandoned
the other. What happened?!</i> Kultas stood impatient and frantic as he waited
on the main road heading through town with the townsfolk and town elders, who
had been informed, or at least noticed the commotion by now.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Renzoku stopped
just short of the crowd and nearly fell off his horse, “Kælon!” he gulped air,
“They took him! Hurry, we have to save him. They won’t be able to go further
than the plains of Manath with a walking prisoner!” </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Calm yourself,
child.” The eldest of the town elder’s said. He was a strong man, just now
nearing sixty years of age. Much of the town sought him for wisdom, but no one thought
less of his strength for all his age. “Tell us what has happened as slowly and
precisely as your mind will allow.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Renzoku, including
that it was not the king’s men but the soldiers of the Korgar that took Kælon,
relayed the story to the crowd that continued to grow as he spoke. Time raced
on for Renzoku, but the story was over in under a minute. He looked up from
telling the story to see Kultas’ head fall. Renzoku reached out to him and fell
to his knees, “I’m sorry. I’m not a strong enough warrior to have saved your
son, but once he is safe, I will give my life for his.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Hush, child.”
Isil, Kultas’ wife, placed her hand on the youth’s sweat stained back. “We
don’t blame you, but let us pray that it is not as we might fear. Anyone who is
willing, come to our house in two hours. At sunset we’ll find their camp and
raid it,” she called to the crowd gathered near. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“There are at
least thirty, more likely forty, men in the company,” Renzoku frantically added.
“It will take every able man. We must be well equipped.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Kultas turned and
face the crowd raising his hand, “Let even the abyss open up and the legions of
darkness come forth! There is nothing in all the land or even beyond that will
keep me from my son! These Korgar have raped and pillaged us for too long. They
have taken what we earned by the sweat of our brow, and now they have taken my
son. Who will join my march?” </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Kultas spoke with
such fervor and might that Renoku thought he might have been a king if he had
had different birth. The second of wondering ended quickly, and a series of war
shouts came forth.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The group
dispersed to prepare; likewise Kultas and Isil came to their home. Kultas
hesitated on the footstep of the house a moment to allow himself to be overcome
by the anger and fear that he held back. His eyes filled with a rage that only
the few who have had their children taken might recognize. Fear of what might
happen mixed with anger at himself and those who took Kælon filled his brain
only to be routed by the voice of his wife.”<br />
“Get
ready,” Isil scolded the delay in her husband’s actions, knowing only too well
what troubled him. “We failed him once because our fears produced lies, but the
life of our son must not be destroyed completely, if not for the sake of his
mother then for the sake of the whole land of Ardiil.” The rebuke from Isil was
the sort that only a strong wife could make: loving, yet stronger than the
winds of a hurricane.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“You’re right,
Isil. We have to stop them before they make it to the Korgar,” Kultas responded
without looking behind at his wife. He moved into the house. Even if the town
lacked in courage at the final moment, the town elders would come. It was their
sworn duty to protect the Baer family, a duty not called on for several
generations. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“With Renzoku and
the elders, I will have a group of seventeen.” Kultas said looking at a map of
the land.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“You’ll have
eighteen.” Isil corrected. “I’ll be kept home. As a warrior and the mother of
my son, I won’t let a few men fail my son’s life when I could have helped.” </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Kultas looked up
to see her firm look as she ornamented her belt herself in a pair of ornate
short swords he had not seen for many years. Knowing that a fight would end in
futility, he nodded his head and returned his gaze to the map.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">___________________________________________________________</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It was near
nightfall before the soldiers even began to set up camp. Kælon had lost most of
his senses between the beatings and being drug behind the horses when the
guards wanted sport, but he was certain that these hills were on the northern
edge of the plains of Manath. He had played here often as a child when some of
the elders took the sheep here to graze for a few weeks. Kælon and Renzoku used
to beg to come along even though the sheep smelled terribly. It was always
pleasant to get away from the city and their parents, but those days seemed
distant in the face of his current situation. Kælon sat against the tree he was
tied to in order to try to regain what little strength he might. Escape would
take a lot more strength and mental power than he currently possessed. The fact
that he was near his home at least gave him a small advantage.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The sound of metal
clanging against metal filled Kælon’s head. He looked around to find three men
hammering several metal shapes together to create what looked like a small
metal statue, about the size of a man’s torso. After a few minutes of making
the pieces fit together, they hammered a metal rod into the end of the shape
and let the shape sit in the fire. One of the soldiers looked at Kælon, then
back at the object before bellowing with laughter. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Glancing one more
time at the fire, the man walked over to Kælon and knelt. “Do you know what
that is?” The man asked curtly with his gravely western accent. “It’s a brand
for your back. That way, all men will know who you are.” The soldier began to
laugh at the defenseless Kælon tied to the tree. The thought of torture seemed
to please him.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Laugh now. I
assure you that beore the night is over, I will be free and you and your men no
more than dead heaps. The soldier’s confidence didn’t waver in the least; he
only laughed harder. Kælon couldn’t believe his own words, he had only said
them to try and muster courage, but all he accomplished was to drain what was
left of his hope.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“I’ll give you one
thing, son of Huor.” The soldier spat. “You have spunk, but the smell of
searing flesh will drive even that from you. There are things much worse than
death.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Huor? Me? No,
there’s been a mistake. He’s a myth and I’m the son of a farmer. I’m no king
and certainly no threat to your masters.” Kælon was slightly relieved about the
mistake, but only enough for a new wave of panic to set in. If they believed he
was the legendary son of Huor, then he would die the worst death he could
imagine at the hands of the Korgar.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Our masters
disagree,” another soldier said as he approached. “They say you are the son of
Huor and that a spectacle must be made of you. Whatever our lords want, our
lords get. I guess I ought to apologize if you really aren’t this fabled heir
to the throne, but either way you have only a few days or weeks to suffer
before you’re dead.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“But I’m not!” Kælon
called after the men, now returning to their work of setting up the camp. <i>Death isn’t so reassuring if it doesn’t come
before torture!</i> Kælon became frantic with the thought of being branded with
an iron that could easily cover his entire back. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Kælon pulled at
the ropes as hard as he could, but to no avail. He also tried cutting the ropes
with a rock, but with the backward angle he had to hold the rock at the get to
the ropes, their strength wouldn’t budge. About the time his arms started
bleeding from the friction, he decided to save his energy and make a run as
soon as he had any amount of freedom. The pain in his leg from the arrow seared
like a hot iron; the thought only made him want to run faster.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Kælon tried to
distract himself by studying his surroundings, but the first thing that caught
his eye was the branding iron. The hot red crest of the Huor clan was clearly
visible, a phoenix rising with a sword in its grasp. For a moment everything
seemed to darken and Kælon passed out.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When he came back
to his senses, Kælon saw the men, eating and drinking, gathered around a fire.
There was a lot of commotion. He’d hoped they forgot about him as he renewed
his efforts to use a rock to free himself. Before he had made any effect on the
ropes one of the soldiers stood and raised his glass, “Men, we’ve hunted and
we’ve eaten, but we’ve had no entertainment. Perhaps you would like to help me
show this beast who the boss around here is,” he said while pointing to Kælon.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Adrenaline began
to surge through Kælon’s body as three men came up to hold him while a fourth
loosed his ropes. Kælon began to kick wildly as soon as the men were close
enough. When one fell from a kick to the head, two more took his place. Six men
beat Kælon until he could hardly move, then his clothes were stripped from him
and thrown into the fire. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Despite the pain
that Kælon was in, he still squirmed with every amount of muscle and adrenaline
he could muster. The muscles in his back rolled back and forth as he struggled
under the weight of the men holding him face down in the dirt. Behind him, the
man who had proposed the entertainment brought the branding iron from the fire
and began the short walk toward where Kælon was being held. The men cheered and
screamed wildly; the anticipation of the seared flesh growing in everyone’s
minds.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When the iron
first touched his back, Kælon’s senses were overwhelmed. He couldn’t see, hear,
or feel anything for a split second. It did not last long enough. Once the full
pain of the iron ensued, Kælon screamed in anguish, every moment the pain being
made anew as the brand was pressed further into his skin. Those few seconds
were the longest Kælon had ever encountered as everything from his neck to the
small of his back was seared. Every thought that rose to his mind fell, countered
by only more pain and his every sense groaned of agony.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The stories say
that the cry from Kælon’s lips rang through the deepest parts of D’ath Kutar,
to the joy of the Korgar, and to the highest peaks of the silent mountains. It
was the cry that brought the searching party to the camp where Kælon now lay.
When the iron was removed, he could neither cry nor move nor taste the
sweetness of death. The world was one blur as the soldiers left Kælon on the
ground and cheered and drank.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Kultas, now saw
the lights from the camp glaring off of a nearby hill. His horse was ahead of
the fifty men who traveled with him, Renzoku and Isil close on his heels. Once
the group had crossed the small hill and were heading down into the valley, the
soldiers noticed the party, but too late. By the time the orders to prepare
were even issued, the raid was upon them. Kultas trampled two and stabbed one
before dismounting near his son. Careful of the burns on his back, Kultas screamed
in rage for his deformed son.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A soldier tried to
attack Kultas from behind only to find his own back stabbed twice by the spear
in Renzoku’s hands. Renzoku then turned to throw his spear at a fleeing
soldier. The entire host of soldiers was massacred in a matter of minutes; not
a single villager who rode with Kultas died in the fray. Rejoicing was quickly
silenced by the sight of Isil tending Kælon’s wounds as Kultas wept over him.
Three of the elders carried Kælon gently back to the town to care for him. Kælon
wanted to speak, to cry, to say a single “thank you,” but nothing would come
forth form his limp body and unwilling lips. He, knowing that he was finally
safe, allowed his mind the sleep his body already retreated into.</span></div>Thorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12718091563257245519noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2618065498214765358.post-44199542530496868662012-01-06T15:28:00.001-08:002012-01-15T15:15:06.121-08:00Chapter 3 - part 2<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<br />
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The small dome-like room was quiet yet intriguing. Natalie’s eyes continually moved to the intricate patterns on the walls that snaked in gold across a crimson background in abstract patterns as though they were alive. Though the patterns seemed to have no structure to it, it held a sort of beauty Natalie could not place. While she waited, her fingers traced the slight bumps left by the golden vines on their path through the sterile red. The forest around this place added what smells and view the complex could afford, but once inside, Natalie felt both enraptured and trapped at once. She gazed at a side of the rounded walls in an attempt to avert her eyes from the pattern for a moment. She enjoyed gazing at it, but a sick feeling came over her when she did for too long.</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The complex had few buildings, though it didn’t seem to need any more than it had. Natalie remembered Lokai mentioning that single men lived in a house or dormitory, as it was called in her world, of sorts. The women followed the same practice. The woman who showed Natalie her room less than an hour ago said that it was to promote unity within those who lived out here and served something or someone they called Iskatar. Natalie had bathed quickly and dressed to meet the council. Lokai had left straight to the “meeting chamber” as he called it, and he told her to come after she’d had a chance to refresh from their trip.</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The trip seemed like a blur at this point. Natalie hardly slept as they traveled, both from the bad beds and her own grief. When Natalie did sleep, it was fitful and she often woke in confusion and worry about the survival of her and her sister. When that happened, Natalie usually cried herself back to sleep. By the time they got to Garath, Natalie could hardly stay awake during the day, but she could sleep no better at night. From what Natalie remembered, Garath was a small but thriving town. Although there were few inns in the area, brothels and marketplaces dotted the entire perimeter and fought for attention at the center of the town. Natalie nearly got lost a few times in the mess of visitors who were seeking trade or a place to rest between their travels. Natalie remembered some exotic traders tried to sell her silk. They spoke a language Natalie wasn’t familiar with.</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Most of the people in this new world spoke a slightly different language than she, although Lokai spoke her own well enough. The slight differences made it hard for Natalie to be apart from Lokai for long, and her weariness only added to it. The exotic traders spoke something far different than even what it seemed most of the people spoke. The incessant crowds pushed in on Natalie, so, grasping the back of his cloak, she stayed close to Lokai. At one point, Lokai asked her to stay near the food supplies he’d acquired while he bartered for horses for the journey. Natalie sat down outside the stables and draped her hands across the few brown bags that contained various dried foods and water canteens to help sustain them. Resting against the wall of the shop, Natalie quickly fell asleep. She woke only minutes later to see children had torn the sacks open and were pulling everything from them.</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Natalie jumped up and started yelling at the children. She didn’t know if they could understand her, but they left quickly. Natalie looked around to find that no one noticed or even looked her direction. Gazing down, Natalie grew sick. Most of the food was gone. Even half of the canteens were missing, and their packages were ripped beyond repair. Lokai came running outside and when he saw the mess and the girls tears, he hugged her. Natalie never remembered feeling so protected as she did then.</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">She must have fallen asleep in his arms, because the next thing she remembered, she was tied into the saddle of a horse next to Lokai’s. He held a rope that attached to the bit in her horse’s mouth. She rubbed her eyes and stared at the lush forest around them. She heard the sound of water in the distance and smile. Natalie looked up at Lokai, “Mister Lokai, is there a river nearby?”</span></i></div>
<div class="p1">
<i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Lokai smiled back at the girl. He slowed his horse and allowed hers to catch up. “Please, my friends call me Curthadir, and I would like to consider you a friend, if not now then soon.” Lokai smiled gently then inclined his head toward the sound of the water. “There’s a river, yes, but what you hear is a waterfall. It’s the largest one in this forest. This is the forest known as Tulien forest, or more properly western Tulien forest. This area is known for its great waterfalls.” Lokai stopped his horse entirely and whirled around to the east. “In that direction is the palace of his majesty, Garlon, a spawn of the Korgar. He has enslaved this area with their control. The village we stopped at is just beyond Garlon’s jurisdiction. When he imposed heavy taxes on the people of his city, most of the merchants moved out and started their own city. It’s a popular city in recent years since it’s close enough to the King’s Highway to be accessible to all this continent, but it’s also a short travel from the northern port that trade with the Telmath, the eastern continent.”</span></i></div>
<div class="p1">
<i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Lokai handed the rope to Natalie, “Do you know how to ride?” She smiled and took the reins. “I know you are an important person with things to do, but can we go see the waterfall? I’ve never seen one before,” Natalie said sheepishly.</span></i></div>
<div class="p1">
<i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Lokai smiled. “I used to play in these forests as a child. My parents would come hunting in them while the children found waterfalls and streams to swim and fish in. I would love to show you one day, but unfortunately we cannot now. There is, however, a waterfall near Lang Gradand, where we are traveling, that I’m sure Senna or Asadi would be happy to show you.” Lokai turned his horse southeast again and continued on their journey.</span></i></div>
<div class="p1">
<i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Asadi and Senna? They’re members of your council?” Natalie asked. “Their names are pretty.”</span></i></div>
<div class="p1">
<i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“They are more beautiful than their names.” Lokai smiled. “And I am old enough to be their grandfather. In appearance, they are much closer to your age, though they are quite a bit older.”</span></i></div>
<div class="p1">
<i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“How do the council members live so long?”</span></i></div>
<div class="p1">
<i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“A great question, and one that can be answered with words, though they wouldn’t mean anything to you. I would rather you see for yourself, if you can be patient.”</span></i></div>
<div class="p1">
<i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Natalie nodded even though Lokai was looking forward. She felt lost in this strange world where people spoke a different language, men and women could live forever, and waterfalls were more common than electronic or gun stores. “Do you know what a gun is?”</span></i></div>
<div class="p1">
<i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“A gun?” Lokai pronounced it slowly.</span></i></div>
<div class="p1">
<i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“You know, it uses a hammer to hit a bullet hard enough to cause it to fly at hundreds of feet per second.” Natalie put her hands in the shape of a gun to demonstrate. “Or something like that. I never paid enough attention when my mom taught us about how a gun worked. My sister was always better at those things.” Natalie cringed at the thought of her sister and the bullet that killed her, but it passed easier now.</span></i></div>
<div class="p1">
<i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“So a gun is the thing your father held when I pulled you into this world? Where does a hammer fit in there?”</span></i></div>
<div class="p1">
<i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Natalie laughed quietly. She hadn’t thought referring to a hammer inside of a small device would sound so weird until she realized she was talking to someone who knew nothing about a gun. “It’s a tiny hammer,” she finally said.</span></i></div>
<div class="p1">
<i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Lokai smiled. “I had never visited your world before.” How does it compare to the little you’ve seen of this one?”</span></i></div>
<div class="p1">
<i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“It’s darker and more violent. People seem just as cruel in this one though.” Natalie remembered the stolen food and began to cry. “I’m sorry I fell asleep and got your food stolen. I didn’t know I was so tired. I should have been more careful.”</span></i></div>
<div class="p1">
<i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Lokai stopped his horse near hers, which took the opportunity to bend and feed on the grass. “Dear girl, it’s not a problem. As you can see, we are provisioned enough to travel. Everything was taken care of. What has happened is passed. Don’t let it bother you. Look to what lies ahead instead.”</span></i></div>
<div class="p1">
<i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Natalie looked up to the man and examined his fine wrinkles and grey eyes. Smiles formed on the edges of his eyes as he looked at her. Movement in the distance caught her eye. Lokai followed her gaze to a dozen soldiers in black armor and riding dark horses. He turned his horse and began moving southwest more quickly.</span></i></div>
<div class="p1">
<i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Come, Natalie, we are not warriors, and these men may well be looking for us. We should depart before they come close enough to know we we’re here.” Lokai rode over to a tree, put his lips near it and said, “Cuindar Phos, your help please.”</span></i></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>Natalie watched in puzzlement then looked back to the men with worry portrayed on her face, but she followed closely and wordlessly. Lokai led them through a thicker area of trees. Natalie still heard the hoofbeats, but they were more muffled. </i>Either they’re further away or the grass covers their sounds,<i> Natalie thought. She couldn’t see them, so she hoped for the former. While looking, she saw the grass behind them grew thicker as they rode, and their own hoof prints quickly obscured. It looked like the grass was coming alive and chasing them. Natalie shrieked.</i></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Lokai looked back and saw her hurrying her horse from the living grass. She was pointing as she began passing Lokai. “Slow down, you’ll tire the horse. It’s only the nymphs. I asked for their help. They’ll keep the Korgar’s guard from finding us. Don’t worry. They won’t bother you or the horse.</span></i></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Natalie jumped off the ground when she heard footsteps echoing down the hallways. Her memories faded from her into the red and gold walls she was gazing at before her revelries overtook her. The footsteps preceded two men dressed in white robes with red sashes across them. White hoods that came seamlessly off the back of the robes covered the faces of the two men as they approached. They all seemed to wear the same clothes. Even Lokai had changed his garb for a similar vestment, but he was easier to spot because of his beard.</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The men stood a cordial distance away from her and one removed his hood to speak, “Lady Natalie Dumar, the council will see you now.” The man’s face was long and thin, not sickly so, but without muscle in the conventional sense. There was nothing of particular interest about his face. His eyes were wide and his nose was little more than a stub, but Natalie noticed nothing remarkable about him.</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Natalie had no idea what this council was that she was supposed to meet. Lokai had talked about them some, but never really revealed why they existed or why they wore ridiculous clothes. Natalie wasn’t sure how long she had been standing in the lobby area to this building, but she wished she had more time. Nervous excitement washed over her with a sense of being unprepared like she often did when she went into her math classroom as a child.</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A long hallway led the trio to two open, oak doors, leading into the next room. Natalie saw the inside of the room well before she ever found herself on the precipice. The room was similar to the last, but had a round table and quite a few windows covered by thin veils. Each of the members of the council stood in front of a seat, apparently waiting for their new guest. The six council members in the room had their hoods removed. Lokai had told Natalie that two women were on the council, but now that she saw them there, it struck her as weird that women would stand with the male leaders. In her home country, no woman would have been allowed a position of authority. <i>What kind of world is this?</i> she wondered yet again. It seemed that she would never stop coming to that question.</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A few seconds after entering, the two men led her to her seat then retreated from the room. The council sat down.</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Lady Dumar, we have seen that you would come.” One member said. He was the tallest of them, a seemingly proud man with excellent posture. His baritone voice was calm and even, betraying nothing of his emotional state. “I am Kotari,” he said quite simply. “These are my fellow council members. I’m sure Curthadir has told you of the current state of the world in which we live?” He moved his eyes to the wizard whom Natalie knew best.</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Yes, Lokai, I mean Curthadir, told me of the Kogi... what were they called?” Natalie, began to blush as she asked.</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“The Korgar. Yes, she has been informed on all that we discussed.” Lokai spoke up.</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Tell me then, Lady Dumar, do you wish to help us?” Kotari asked, returning his gaze to her.</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“I...” Natalie stuttered. <i>Me, help them?</i> Natalie wondered. <i>Who are they even? </i>“I’m... sure... I mean.” Natalie sat rigid, but helpless and uncertain of what to say.</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“The poor child is frightened. Give her a minute.” A dark complexioned lady said. Natalie turned to see that she was more beautiful than anyone she had ever met. Her curly hair was pulled back only to reveal more of her smooth skin and angelic eyes.</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Ikari,” the lady said turning to the man beside her, “Get the girl a glass of water.” Natalie could only watch the man as he exited the room. <i>His arms are bigger than my head. He must be the strongest man alive.</i> What amazed Natalie even more than his great size was the fact that even with his large size, he remained quite nimble. She hardly even noticed him rise from his seat, much less make any noise while doing it. <i>I can’t even walk without making a ruckus.</i></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When the man named Ikari left, another man spoke up. His eyes held a piercing gaze and seemed to talk with his mouth. “My name is Luran. I assure you, we are, none of us, here to cause you harm in any way. We know very little, in fact, of why you were brought to this land, but it is our sworn duty to protect and save all that we may from the terrible rule of the Korgar. If we can extend that hand to you as well, then we will. Perhaps the seer, Asadi can explain who we are.” He turned to face the woman to his left. There was terrible depth in the eyes of the seer, but a sort of terrible beauty also filled them. Her face was at once both stunning in beauty and frightful. <i>What sort of people are these? The women have power and beauty and the men are strong and agile. Everyone acts nice, but their eyes..</i>. Natalie couldn’t think of how to describe the eyes of her hosts. Looking into them was akin to gazing at a storm. They were beautiful from afar, but danger seemed to lurk in them.</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Child, when we came back from seeking Iskatar, we were different than when we left. Iskatar set us free from fear and the bondage that we allowed ourselves to be in. Now there are six of us, with only Iskatar, the nymphs, and a handful of brave men as our allies. Together we struggle against the Korgar and their powers of darkness. We call ourselves Cuindar Phos, the council of light, and we do what we can while we wait for the one who will lead us, the son of Huor. We don’t pretend to know the end. Even Luran and I, who are called seers can only see a small arena of future events, but each of us will do what we can to overcome these Korgar and set the kingly line, established by Iskatar, on the throne.</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Danger and hard times are around the corner for all who are in league with us, but our path is the only path to freedom. The only other option you will find is to side with the Korgar. Eventually, you will fall into one side or the other. We are simply giving you the option to follow what we may teach you. There are no guarantees of what will happen, but I can say, from experience, that where you will find meaning and purpose is here, you will find hurt and anguish with the Korgar.”</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Natalie sat back. There was a lot to try to understand. She gazed at the table in front of her, and to her amazement saw a glass of water. She gazed to her right and saw Ikari where he was, as though he had never left. Natalie began to realize the power of the people in the room around her. Fear mixed with comfort overwhelmed her, then she saw Lokai’s cool and gentle eyes. In that moment, the fear in her heart melted a little, long enough for her to make a slightly coherent decision.</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Okay,” Natalie finally blurted, “I’ll do whatever it is you expect me to do. I don’t really have any other place to go.”</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Lokai looked at her for a moment then nodded at Kotari.</span></div>
</div>Thorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12718091563257245519noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2618065498214765358.post-39858689214492116652012-01-01T14:43:00.000-08:002012-01-06T15:28:46.828-08:00Chapter 3 - part 1<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<div class="p1">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Kælon crept
silently through the eastern Tulien forest, a day’s journey from his home in
Althien. His brown hair and green clothes helped him blend in with the forest.
His blue eyes held fast, fixed on his target in the distance. Sitting quietly
in an oversized shrub, Kælon stared at the large brown stag, about 80 meters
ahead, who would make an excellent meal for his family. It’s large antlers
marked its location, even when its skin threatened to melt into the background.
A deer that size would require a lot of work to get back to town, but it
contained enough meat to last them for a few months. In the coming winter,
having enough meat to survive became a necessity. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Kælon thought he
tasted the meat for a moment before realizing he had instead tasted the familiar
flavor of adrenaline on his tongue as he slowly moved his bow into position. <i>Move a little closer….</i> Kælon thought. Forgetting
everything else around him, he focused on the stag; it was a dance between his speed
and the stag whose ever-ready gaze held alert as he ate. The bow now pulsed
with his blood. Kælon drew and released the arrow with one swift motion, but his
back elbow was thrown from its practiced course by an aggressive tap from a
metal staff. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Kælon watched the
deer run and saw the arrow shatter into the tree just behind the deer’s neck,
then he turned to see his brown haired friend fall to the ground in laughter. Kælon
smirked at the jovial nature of his closest friend as he extended a hand to
help him up.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Was there a
reason for doing that or are you just cross that you can’t sneak up on
anything?” Kælon, slightly irked at the thought of spending another entire day
searching and tracking a beast to slay, asked. His height was as average as his
build. His smile betrayed his serious voice to his friend, however.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“I snuck up on
you.” Renzoku retorted before laughing again. “Besides, we just got up here
yesterday. If you’d killed that stag then we’d have to return tomorrow. If you
do the math, that’s two days of travel for only one day of being here.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Remind me why I
brought you.” Kælon said as he lowered his head, in an attempt to mask his amusement,
and began to walk.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“No, there’s a
point to what I’m saying.” Renzoku insisted. His stature was comparatively
larger than that of Kælon. His uncontrollably curly, light-brown hair matched
his slightly odd and carefree personality. “I found a waterfall we’ve never
jumped off of before.” His smile returned at the thought of the fun to be had.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“It’s a good thing
you weren’t born during a time of war,” Kælon teased. “You would never have
been able to take orders, you’d always find something better to do.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“The oppression of
the Korgar and their puppet king is almost worse.” Renzoku sped up a little to
take the lead. “But what is there to fear, they say the son of Huor shall
return soon to throw King Garlon off the throne and oppose the dominion of the
Korgar.” Renzoku smiled in sarcasm.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Perhaps he’ll be
a better fighter than his old man, Turgon the great, who was killed by the
Korgar.” Kælon looked pointedly at Renzoku while walking, “Then again, maybe he
just shouldn’t take traitors into battle.” Kælon drew his iron short sword and
turned it upon Renzoku who countered with his 6-foot tall metal stave. Neither
weapon was heavily decorated, nor did either man act highly proficient either.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“He’ll have to be
a better fighter than you, or at least wear some armor. I guess it’s a good
thing you weren’t born in a time of war either.” Renzoku pulled back his staff
and laughed.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“You think I’m a
poor fighter, do you?” Kælon sheathed his sword and plowed Renzoku into a tree.
The latter dropped his staff in surprise, but quickly took the offensive and grappled
Kælon to the ground. Renzoku threw his fist into Kælon’s side, but that only
brought retaliation. It was only a few minutes before the two sat on the side
of the grassy knoll panting and examining their new bruises.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The deep green of
the forest melted into black in the areas the sun had already left. A
refreshing breeze blew across the faces of the two and carried through the
grass. A wild dance took place for only seconds among the weeds and flowers as
they responded to the wind. The sound of rushing hooves rode on the wind toward
the ears of the youths.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Sounds like the
king’s men are hunting.” Kælon remarked quite apathetic. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Maybe they’ll be
entranced by fairies and never return.” Renzoku quickly added.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“I’d like to meet
a fairy.” Kælon commented beginning to dream, “Maybe then I’d get to have an
adventure instead of living this sorry excuse for an existence.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Don’t forget, the
only adventure a fairy will take you on exists only in your dreams. You’ll wind
up lost and alone on the end of a fairy hoax.” Renzoku retorted.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Aye.” Kælon
quickly brushed the comment aside. “Let’s get the horses and get to bed. Seems we
have an unexpected date with a waterfall tomorrow.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The trees of
Tulien forest blocked much of the direct sunlight, even during the brightest
times of day. The light that does enter plays off the leaves and foliage in the
forest making them seem all shades of green. Kælon considered himself an expert
dreamer, so he laid down as soon as they had set up the camp and watched the
light in the trees. His eyes focused on the beautiful orchestra playing above
his head and remembered the stories that his mother had told him. At times the
fairies blessed the traveler, but other times they simply made sport out of
confusing humans who were so thoughtless to begin with. At the end of every
story, his mother warned, “Never cross a fairy.” “The wrath of a fairy will be
a curse on your head for years.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Kælon nodded to
whatever fairies might be around; seeing that the heather on the ground would
well enough provide cover for them not to be seen. He wondered, as he often
did, what fairies even looked like. He never doubted their existence, for too
many stories had come through their village for fairies to be just tales, but
he knew almost nothing about them. He laughed at the thought that at that
moment, he could have been surrounded by a council of fairy elders and not have
known. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">There’s something
about a bed in the wild, sleeping with the grass as a mat and the stars as a
blanket that refreshes a man more than his own bed. Kælon gave into the deep
sleep to be found at the base of a small hill. Renzoku was so excited about the
next morning that he could hardly fall asleep. He kept shifting and re-shifting
just a few feet further from the hill than Kælon slept. Finally he fell into a
deep sleep, tangled in the few blankets he had wrapped himself in.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The next morning
came quickly, and Kælon awoke with the sun and began packing his two blankets
and arraying himself with the few armaments he owned. “Ready for some fun?” He
asked Renzoku who had just been awoken by a stray ray of sunlight in his face. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Fun? Can’t we
wait until later? Maybe when the sun gets up too?” Renzoku moaned as he covered
his face. “What’s for breakfast anyway?”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Well,” Kælon said
with a hint of knowing sarcasm, “We can eat salted beef, berries... or there
are enough fish and rabbit to catch a few easily.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Rabbit?”
Renzoku’s head popped up out from behind the covers. “Why don’t we come hunting
more often?” He quickly shoved his blankets in the horse’s side bag and found
his bow and quiver without a second thought. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Twenty minutes
later, the two had found what seemed to be a rabbit highway. Tracks ran several
directions from where they stood. Renzoku followed a path toward the stream,
taking the horse with him, but Kælon spotted a rabbit heading further into the
hills. Eager to surpass Renzoku in his hunting skill, Kælon quickly took off
after the prey with as little sound as possible. He never stopped to look back
at his friend. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Kælon followed the rabbit tracks into an area
densely covered by brush and heather. Movement from the right caught his eye,
so Kælon gripped an arrow in his left hand and knocked two in the bow. A
grouping of nearly a dozen rabbits sat before Kælon in a little glen, sadly a
little too alert from his approach. <i>It’ll
only take two to feed us; maybe three with Renzoku’s appetite.</i> Kælon smiled
to himself.<i> Keep steady.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The arrows flew,
and the rabbit scattered. As Kælon had expected, he didn’t have a chance to
even take aim with the third arrow before the group had scattered. Two rabbits lay
on the ground with arrows cleanly through their hide. One still moved and
whined as though it could get away. Disappointed at the fact the arrow hadn’t
killed his quarry, he quickly moved to it and snapped its neck with his gloved
hand. Kælon had always despised it when an animal lived after being hit with an
arrow. Kælon thought back to his first hunting trip when his father caught a
rabbit in the hind legs and made Kælon watch as the creature suffered for
several minutes. The entire time, Tulkas, Kælon’s father, asked him to imagine
the pain and suffering the animal was enduring. Ever since then, Kælon cringed
at the first whine of an animal and vowed to never make one suffer more than
necessary. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Kælon tied both
rabbits to a stick upside down with their necks slit so they would bleed
properly while he cleaned and checked his arrows. The ground was soft enough
that both arrows could be used again. He decided to head down to the lake and
see what Renzoku had been up to for the last half hour. After his victory,
Kælon was sorry he had left his friend. Victory never tasted as sweet alone as
it did with friends around. <i>I wonder what
Renzoku’s up to, anyway. </i>Kælon thought for a moment. <i>Likely fishing</i> he laughed to himself.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>I wonder what they are searching for.</i> Kælon
thought, a bit concerned, as he listened to the sound of the hoof beats just a
mile or less below him. <i>They must be near
the camp we set up last night. I’m sure they won’t be mad we used the grass to
sleep on.</i> Kælon knew that the king was never a man known for being
generous. King Garlon had been known for executing hunters simply because they
had been in the forest at the same time as him. Kælon always knew how to stay
away, and since the king only came here to hunt, there was little likelihood
they’d accidentally stumble on each other if he stayed careful. Still, Kælon
wondered if it wouldn’t be better to find a different section of the forest to
hunt in. Garlon had been known to do terrible things if he was in a bad mood. <i>He’d probably take his own mother to court
if he thought he could get something out of it.</i> Kælon’s breathing stopped when
he realized the horses were nearing his position. <i>Time to find Renzoku and get out of here quickly.</i> Kælon examined
his surroundings as he realized the horses were heading straight toward this
area. If he ran, it might attract their attention. Kælon put the rabbits on the
ground and took cover in the crevice of a fallen tree, to wait the passing of
the horses below him.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It took less than
a minute before the soldiers passed; they were men wearing light armor. About
twenty of them carried spears, the rest only held their swords and shields. Kælon
couldn’t tell how many had bows on their horses, but clearly not enough for
this to be a hunting party. The black-stained metal of the armor immediately
told Kælon that these men were not the king’s hunting party, as he’s feared.
The flag carried by a soldier near the front worried Kælon more than anything
else. <i>The guard of the Korgar?</i> He
wondered <i>What would they be doing all the
way out here?</i> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The flag portrayed
a golden dragon rising out of the sea on a black background. One of its feet stood
on the land, and its hands grasped a star. It was a sign of complete dominion,
Kælon had been told for most of his life. The Korgar weren’t satisfied with
controlling the kingdom and all trade routes, they also wanted the stars. When
a herald read their proclamation, it always began, “From those who control the
land, the seas, and the heavens…”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Kælon had been so
focused on the guards in front of him that he hadn’t noticed one approaching
his flank with sword and shield ready. “Stand.” The guard commanded.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Kælon grasped the
stick holding the rabbits and stood. He eyed the bow he had laid on the ground
and felt the sword in its scabbard on his leg.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Are you Kælon
Baer?” The soldier asked with the authority of one not accustomed to defiance.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“I guess it
depends on why you want to know.” Kælon responded hesitantly. Those who met the
guard of the Korgar were often taken for some reason or another. Of those
taken, none returned. Of those not taken… Kælon preferred not to think about
the scenes which had been described to him of men flayed and set upon a pole to
die in the sun, or the villages burned and raped for the amusement of these
men. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“You are under
arrest by order of his royal majesty and the lords of the land. Come willingly
or by force, but you will come.” The man kept a firm grip on his sword.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“I guess it would
be unwise of me to run and even more stupid to fight.” Kælon surveyed the land
around him. This was the only soldier in sight. “Okay, there’s no choice left
to me. Where are we going?” Kælon placed the stick in his right hand and raised
both slightly above his head. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“That’s of no
concern to yours.” The soldier sheathed his weapon and came toward Kælon to
bind him, but as soon as the soldier’s hands were engaged with rope, Kælon slammed
one end of the stick into the eye of the soldier. He cried out in pain, and the
entire company below looked up to see Kælon fleeing. A dense area in the
forest, likely impassible by horses, lay directly in Kælon’s path. He only
needed to outrun the horses for a few dozen meters, then he would be safe from
their horses. Kælon heard the sounds closing in behind him, but he was sure
he’d make it before the could get completely to him. As Kælon came within 10
meters of the denser section of forest, an arrow found it’s mark in his calf. Kælon
fell to the ground. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When the first
ride came to him, Kælon grabbed the shaft of his spear, just above the head; he
yanked the man off of his horse and stabbed him through the opening of his
visor with a newly drawn sword. Kælon couldn’t remember drawing it, but he felt
committed to defending himself at this point, although he knew he would likely
suffer worse for it. Before another second had passed, the company of spears
that were raining in upon his head overwhelmed Kælon. He fell to the ground and
received a continued beating by wooden shafts there. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Renzoku came to
the scene just in time to see his friend overwhelmed. A bone jutted out of Kælon’s
forearm, yet the guards continued the beating. Kælon screamed a few times then
ceased. Renzoku hoped Kælon had passed out and wouldn’t need to continue
feeling the pain. Knowing that he would be less good to Kælon bound beside him,
he stayed hidden. The sight of his bleeding and bruised friend as they stripped
him naked and tied him to the back of a horse turned to loathing in his
stomach: loathing for having come too late. It would be difficult for the two
of them to try attacking the thirty or forty guards, but maybe he could have
helped his friend. However, with Kælon incapacitated and an arrow in his calf, Renzoku
knew that any attempt to help would be useless. </span></div>
<div style="border-bottom: solid windowtext 1.5pt; border: none; mso-element: para-border-div; padding: 0in 0in 1.0pt 0in;">
<div class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; line-height: 150%; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext 1.5pt; mso-padding-alt: 0in 0in 1.0pt 0in; padding: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Thoughts
of all else abandoned, Renzoku ran down to where he had left the horse and
mounted up. It was usually about a day’s walk to Althein, but riding at full
speed he would likely make it just after the lunch hour if his horse could keep
up the pace. <i>The elders must know what to
do, even if everyone </i>is<i> scared of the
Korgar,</i> Renzoku thought. He sped through the clearing and emerged from the
southern edge of the forest heading southwest toward Althein.</span></div>
</div>
<br />Thorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12718091563257245519noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2618065498214765358.post-73524828905851823272012-01-01T13:05:00.000-08:002012-01-01T13:08:05.852-08:00My Christmas Week<h3>
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<span style="color: #38761d; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Merry Christmas and a Happy New Years!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-tab-span"> </span>It's been almost two weeks sine I wrote my last post. Things have been very crazy with Christmas and the New Year, as I'm sure it has been with many of you. I went to New Mexico to visit my family again. I saw a lot of friends and went to Albuquerque's Old Town on Christmas Eve. I wish I had thought to take pictures for those of you who have never seen Albuquerque's luminarias. Here's a picture I found on <a href="http://www.itsatrip.org/events/featured/winter/holiday.aspx">http://www.itsatrip.org/events/featured/winter/holiday.aspx</a>.</span></div>
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<a href="http://www.itsatrip.org/!UserFiles/content_photos/skyline_scenic/MSS_oldtown1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="http://www.itsatrip.org/!UserFiles/content_photos/skyline_scenic/MSS_oldtown1.jpg" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In the center is the gazebo where bands often play, and you commonly see people take pictures for formal events. This place is basically the center of Old Town, and the cathedral is just left of the photo. The paper bags on the ground are the luminarias. They are paper bags filled with sand and a candle (although many of them these days are electric). I think the luminarias are supposed to light the way to a new year or something (I might have just made that up), but they look beautiful. There's a section of town around Rio Grande rd. where people decorate entire neighborhoods in lights and these luminarias. Most years, some friends and I will travel these neighborhoods and see all the lights they've put on display. A lot of other people do this as well, as is shown by the amount of traffic around ^_^ It's wonderful to do though. I suggest any of you who visit Albuquerque on Christmas Eve go!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-tab-span"> </span>We were able to spend some time talking to my brother over face time. I don't know how much I've talked about Sigmund, but he's living in China right now teaching English as a second language in the schools there. He got a degree in business, a friend he invited to college invited him to visit China, and he's been there since. I don't know how long he will be there, but he's enjoying it so far, and he's already done a few years.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #38761d; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My New Years Resolution: Finish This Book!</span></h3>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-tab-span"> </span>I did some writing over the last couple weeks, but I was really getting bored with writing profiles for everyone. I saw a lot of benefit in it, and it's help me figure out where my story is going, but it's also not as fun as sitting down to write. I think that if someone had more patience than me and was good at thinking about things, they would really benefit from this writing method, but I need something to keep me engaged.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-tab-span"> </span>I'm going to keep the notes I wrote, and I will probably expand them as I go. I found especial use in talking about the characters, since I know who I am going to be working with now. As far as the story goes, I don't know enough about it to write a 10-page summary. I want to take the characters and see what they do and how they act. In the next chapter, I introduce the other main character, Kælon, and his closest friend, Renzoku. I haven't decided how many perspectives I'm going to write from, but I will write from Kælon's and Natalie's for sure. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-tab-span"> </span>I have considered writing from the perspective of Curthadir or some of the other members of his council, but they know a lot about what's going on and would probably ruin the story for those of you reading this. When I read a book or play a game, I think it's more fun to have to learn as things go instead of seeing things ahead of time. I think of <i>Harry Potter</i> and how Dumbledor knew that Harry had to die, but if we knew that from his perspective, it would have ruined the story for us. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-tab-span"> </span>I want to write from more perspectives that just Natalie and Kælon though. I will probably use Renzoku and someone that Natalie meets for other perspectives. Those four will probably be the main perspectives with a few "guest speakers" as I go. I know a couple of you have been good at reading and commenting so far. Thank you. What do you think about this idea? ^_^ I am glad to have any ideas you can offer. For anyone who has a thought about this book, please offer it! That's why I'm writing it here.</span></div>Thorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12718091563257245519noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2618065498214765358.post-17412589026059196652011-12-19T11:30:00.000-08:002011-12-19T11:30:01.541-08:00Making Your Story More Interesting<br />
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<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d;">A Continuation of Things I Learned from Reading <i>Dracula</i></span></b></h3>
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This blog is the rest of the article started at <a href="http://bumbulwrites.blogspot.com/2011/12/ideas-for-narrating-your-novel.html"><span class="s1">Ideas for Narrating Your Novel</span></a>.</div>
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<h3>
<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d;">3) Have enemies who are terrifying and enemies who you feel empathy/sympathy toward. </span></b></h3>
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Dracula was a scary opponent. When Jonathan Harker met the vampire women and realized Dracula was something other than human, it was creepy. Some parts of the story that related to Dracula bordered on scary. He made a really good enemy, although I thought they defeated him too easily. (I guess if he hadn’t been asleep, there was no way they could have won.)</div>
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As scary as Dracula was, though, he wasn’t my favorite villain. I guess Renfield might not be considered a villain, but he basically was because he helped Dracula and had a habit of eating living things. All he needed was black clothes and he’d be a pretty standard Batman villain. Even his psychosis fit!</div>
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The thing I really like about Renfield, though, was that he wasn’t purely evil. He showed a full range of emotions. While Van Helsing was the epitome of good and Dracula was the epitome of evil, Renfield was the confused guy who gets used by the main villain. I could almost understand where Renfield came from, and I even admired him when he attacked Dracula. How often can you say you admired a villain?!</div>
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When you write, most characters should be a mixture of good and evil. While it may make sense for a few characters to be pretty much pure evil or pure good, the majority of characters should be able to be tempted by ease, money, a relationship, power, or something else. I think it makes for a much more interesting character when you come to the end of the novel and realize, “I don’t know if he was a good character or a bad one!”</div>
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One of my favorite historical characters is Rommel. He is one of history’s greatest military generals, but he lived when Hitler started WW2. I don’t know how true the following story is, but I remember it from high school. Apparently Rommel said that he didn’t like or agree with Hitler, but he would live and die for his country. Because of this philosophy, he did more damage to the Allied forces than almost anyone else in Germany, but he also defied the leader of his country and died for it. He is a great example of what a character in a novel should be.</div>
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<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d;">4) Don’t be afraid to impair and/or kill some key characters</span></b></h3>
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Early in the novel, Mina’s friend, Lucy becomes a vampire. Later in the novel, Mina becomes the victim of Dracula and begins to suffer from eating his blood. She is scarred by the wafer and eventually has to be trapped by Van Helsing so she won’t escape to join the vampire women. Quincy also falls prey to the fight against Dracula. He dies in a heroic mission to kill Dracula.</div>
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I wonder if Bram Stoker ever sat in front of his paper and shook his head because Quincy was about to die, but he knew that it was the only way to kill Dracula. I wonder if he winced when Mina drank the blood from Dracula’s chest, but he knew that it was the next move Dracula would make, so he had to write about it. </div>
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When you are writing your novel, it’s important to stay true to the characters you’ve created. Bringing characters back from the dead or saving them from a desperate situation can be awesome, but it can also be extremely cheesy. Be careful when you do something that wouldn’t normally happen!</div>
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I read about a comic (which I can’t remember of the name right now….) where the hero was trapped in a steel box, flying through space at the end of one episode. Apparently everyone who read it couldn’t figure out how he was going to get out, and they were really excited to see what happened. In the next episode, he showed up in New York to save the day without any explanation whatsoever. </div>
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Don’t do that to your reader! When you write your novel, think about what you are going to do; make sure it can happen within the rules that exist for your universe. Some characters will die heroically; others will die for something stupid. Some characters, who you might not like, will live. It’s okay. Let you characters get hurt if that’s something that should happen.</div>Thorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12718091563257245519noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2618065498214765358.post-79286990213146592722011-12-16T18:02:00.000-08:002011-12-16T18:02:00.175-08:00Ideas for Narrating Your Novel<br />
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<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Taking a Break from Character Creation</span></b></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The process of creating characters for <i>The Netherworld</i> and trying to decide the basic plot has been harder than I would have imagined. I’ve had to think a lot about each person’s goals and desires and pasts and futures. I see why Ingermason says to take an hour for each character. It’s also difficult to decide which characters are going to be main characters and which will be secondary. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I’m sure I will create more as the story progresses, but this blog is about the experience of writing a book. I think a lot about the storyline as I do stuff during my day. I have some awesome ideas for how I want things to look, but it’s hard to write them down so that someone else will see them like I do. I really wish I could draw, but oh well.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> I’m glad for all the comments you have left so far. I welcome any thoughts, criticisms, or suggestions!</span></div>
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<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">What I learned from Reading <i>Dracula</i></span></b></h3>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">William Faulkner said, “"Read, read, read. Read everything -- trash, classics, good and bad, and see how they do it. Just like a carpenter who works as an apprentice and studies the master. Read! You'll absorb it. Then write. If it is good, you'll find out. If it's not, throw it out the window." I’m starting to agree. The more I read the more I learn about how to write.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I’ve continued reading to get inspiration for my story. I’m not a very fast reader, so it has taken a long time to finish <i>Dracula</i>. I guess it’s only been about a month, which is faster than I have read most books, but I’ve also had a lot of free time since it’s winter. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I’ve picked up quite a few ideas about writing from reading Dracula that I’d like to share with you. These ideas focus on how to tell the story. So far, I’ve posted a few blogs about creating characters and getting your novel started. This one is about narrating a novel, or telling a story.</span></div>
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<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">1) Use multiple points of view in order to create picture!</span></b></h3>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Bram Stoker switched between multiple points of view throughout <i>Dracula</i>. Each of the main characters gets time in the limelight. As the reader, I got to see things from each character’s perspectives. I mentioned this technique when I started reading Dracula, but now that I’m done, I’m more convinced than ever that it’s a great way to write a book. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">If the story had been written from only Jonathan’s perspective, I wouldn’t have known each of the characters as well as I did. By the end of the story, I felt like Van Helsing was an old friend of mine, even though I probably would never be good friends with a professor in real life. It was exciting to see how each character felt about what was happening. It made me sad to read from Mina’s perspective a lot, though, since she had to deal with so much.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">As I’ve been writing my novel, I’ve been switching between perspectives a little, but I think I want to do it a little more and make sure that everything in a specific section is seen from just one character’s perspective. I may need to go back and update the first two chapters, but I’m not sure yet. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Instead of changing the novel from one person to another at the end of each chapter, I’m going to do it within chapters as well. I’m going to use chapters to show that I’m changing from one group of people to another, but within that group, I’m going to use just a line break to show the change in perspectives. What do you all think about this method?</span></div>
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<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">2) Give each character a purpose in the story. Don’t let one hog the show.</span></b></h3>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In <i>Dracula</i>, each character had a specific purpose and something helpful to contribute to the group. Jonathan Harker was resourceful, but not knowledgeable. Van Helsing was courageous and knowledgeable, but he wasn’t young and agile. Quincy had strength to contribute, and Mina added an interesting twist to a number of places in the novel.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">As I think about my novel, it’s easy to think a lot about Natalie and Kælon while leaving the others out. <i>Dracula</i> was more interesting because the characters needed each other and often had to split up which caused interesting problems, but it also allowed them to succeed in the end. Dracula was only one person. Maybe this says something about teamwork versus doing things on your own:p</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When writing your novel, keep in mind that fiction shouldn’t be too much different than reality, even in a fantasy world like mine. I think we’ve all heard the saying, “No man is an island” (I just looked it up. It’s a poem by John Donne). Writing a story about one character who can do everything alone is a lot more boring because no one can relate to it. Even James Bond had Q and M to help him out, and he was really good at working alone!</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Sadly, I ran out of time to finish this tonight, so I will post this blog in 2 parts. </span></div>Thorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12718091563257245519noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2618065498214765358.post-18720124784340034492011-12-14T12:28:00.000-08:002011-12-14T12:28:00.726-08:00Kultas son of Hedan - Profile<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d;">Kultas son of Hedan of the line of Huar</span></b><b></b></span></h3>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Age 48</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Kultas is the hidden eldest child of the line of Huar. He must regain his family's honor by doing the task given to the sons of Huar, by opposing the Korgar.</span></div>
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<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d;">Motivation</span></span></b></h3>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Kultas keeps his identity a secret as his father before him out of fear of the Demon Lords. When his son is taken captive, Kultas realizes that if he does not fight, the fight will come to him. Kultas fights the demons out of a love for his family and as a way to regain the honor of the line of Huar.</span></div>
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<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d;">Goal/Desire</span></span></b></h3>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Kultas wants nothing more than to be a man like the men of old in the Huar line. Iskatar asks him, as heir to the throne to oppose the Korgar openly so that unrest will spread through the cities. Kultas knows that the open treachery he is being asked to commit will result in his death, but he wants to do it for the sake of his son and Iskatar.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d;">Conflict</span></b></span></h3>
<b></b>Kultas spent his life hiding from the pain and suffering that comes from taking the higher and more courageous road. When warriors from the east ask to train Kælon, Kultas struggles with the realization that he must let his son go. When Iskatar asks Kultas to act with courage that will cost his life but offer his son a chance to reclaim the throne, he struggles with the courage to do it. Finally, he fights the Korgar and their lieges openly.</div>
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<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d;">Epiphany</span></span></b></h3>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">There is nothing to fear but fear itself. It takes the capture of his son to realize that physical pain and death may not be the hardest thing in life to endure. When Iskatar visits Kultas, he is scared of the task put before him, but knows that his family's fear has only enslaved the entire planet to the Korgar. Perhaps an act of courage will set them free.</span></div>
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<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d;">Summary</span></span></b></h3>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Kultas comes from a line of men who have hidden from the task handed down to them from generation to generation. He himself hides from the task set to him until his son is taken captive by the Korgar’s troops. Kultas then sets himself to be a king worthy of the lineage he comes from. Iskatar tells him that he must stand against the Korgar, at Turin Phor (the keep of light), but that He will die if he does. Kultas commends his son to the hands of warriors from the east then takes his troops to reclaim Turin Phor.</span></div>
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<br /></div>Thorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12718091563257245519noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2618065498214765358.post-54982639953806174882011-12-13T15:19:00.000-08:002011-12-13T15:19:00.997-08:00Renzoku son of Rashir - Profile<h3>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Renzoku son of Rashir of the line of Dromond</b></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Age 23</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Renzoku is Kælon's best friend. Renzoku is a carefree character who only concerns himself with the things that directly concern him; once Kælon is captured, his life and priorities change. </span></div>
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<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Motivation</span></b></h3>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Renzoku is loyal to his friends, yet holds his comforts close. His goals are protecting and providing for friends in the best environment possible. While trouble remains, he will fight for his survival and that of his friends.</span></div>
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<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Goal/Desire</span></b></h3>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Renzoku desires to be Kælon’s right-hand. While they’ve always been rivals in many regards and learned many things from one another, Renzoku respects the gravity of Kælon’s situation and quickly comes to his defense.</span></div>
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<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Conflict</span></b></h3>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Renzoku’s main goal is protecting his friend and all that Kælon stands for, but many foes and chances for an easier life stand in Renzoku’s way. When danger comes against his friends, he is often first into the fray. This places his life on the edge of a knife.</span></div>
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<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Epiphany</span></b></h3>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Renzoku realizes that in order to have any peace in life, his life must be first about others. Renzoku refuses a life of comfort for the love of others and is willing to give his life for that.</span></div>
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<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Summary</span></b></h3>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When Renzoku and Kælon are on a hunting trip, Kælon is taken captive. Renzoku follows them then gets the village elders to lead a rescue attempt on Kælon. When Renzoku’s friend returns scared, changed, and the rightful heir to the throne, Renzoku is quick to take up the come to Kælon’s aid. He stands in adamant support of Kælon and his return to the throne even though many lures of comfort attempt to draw him away. Renzoku follows Kælon into death, back to the land of the living, and eventually to the valley where Kælon’s armies make war against the Korgar.</span></div>
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<br /></div>Thorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12718091563257245519noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2618065498214765358.post-47111274991847935222011-12-11T17:00:00.000-08:002011-12-12T07:32:31.061-08:00Kælon son of Kultas - Profile<h3>
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<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Kælon son of Kultas of the line of Huar</span></b></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Age 20</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Kælon, as the son of an ancient line of kings, must find Iskatar and overcome the Korgar so that Ardiil may once again be ruled in peace.</span></div>
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<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Motivation</span></b></h3>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Kælon is motivated by the cries of the people, the help of the council, and the death of his father at the hands of the Korgar. His desire is to be king for the sake of vengeance upon the Korgar.</span></div>
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<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Goal/Desire</span></b></h3>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Kælon is an adventure-seeker. His desire is to be a part of something great. Once his father is killed, Kælon's new desire is revenge. Iskatar helps Kælon overcome this desire by replacing this false worldview with an understanding of the world as it is.</span></div>
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<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Conflict</span></b></h3>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The Lords of Darkness believe that with Kælon dies their final threat. In this belief, they are consumed with the capture and eventual death of the line of Huor. The Demon Lords and Kælon's own fear prevent him from being who he was made to be.</span></div>
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<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Epiphany</span></b></h3>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Kælon learns the needs of a king to not only have courage but also honesty, friends, and loyalty. When he realizes that life is not lived for oneself, then he is able to be a king in the true legacy of the sons of Huar. Kælon learns that once the Korgar lose control of people's irrational fear, they are conquerable.</span></div>
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<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Summary</span></b></h3>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Kælon grew up without any knowledge of his heritage. After being captured by a band belonging to the Korgar, Kælon learns that he is a son of the legendary line of kings. Kælon receives his training at the hands of two council members with the goal of joining his father in the fight against the Korgar. When his father is killed in an attempt to incite an uprising against the Korgar, he is quickly ushered to the Netherworld where he must find Iskatar if he hopes to fight the Korgar. Kælon develops the loyalty of his friends, wins the trust of the people of Ardiil, and meets the Lords of Darkness in open field in an Armageddon sort of battle.</span></div>
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<br /></div>Thorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12718091563257245519noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2618065498214765358.post-12416262101459239912011-12-11T14:33:00.001-08:002011-12-11T16:39:36.670-08:00Natalie Dumar - Profile<h3>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Natalie Dumar</b></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Age 18</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Natalie, who finds herself in Ardiil, must find Iskatar and complete her quest of helping Kælon obtain the throne.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Motivation</b></span></h3>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Natalie desires to be in a place where she is loved. Her fear and distrust of everyone makes her short-tempered and afraid. Natalie is seeking meaning and purpose.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Goal/Desire</b></span></b></h3>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Natalie's first goal is to complete her training with Curthadir, which requires that she rid herself of fear. After that Natalie desires to reestablish the kingdom Iskatar set up.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Conflict</b></span></h3>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Natalie's fear keeps her from reaching full potential and grants her the inability to trust others. The Korgar are a strong group with many followers. A fear among the people of Ardiil allows the Korgar to stay in power.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Epiphany</b></span></h3>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Natalie learns from Curthadir that there is really nothing to fear save what we force ourselves to fear. Natalie learns that the common philosophy is that we live because we're afraid to die; we die because we cannot live. But the one who does not know fear will not know death. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Summary</b></span></h3>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Sarah flees from her father with her mother's pendant to the world of Ardiil. There she is trained by the seer, Curthadir, and sent on a quest to find Iskatar. Along this road she finds Kælon and becomes his escort to Iskatar. While traveling together, Natalie helps Kælon overcome grow into the man that he needs to be in order to lead a nation. Upon the death of Curthadir, Natalie is moved to the position of Seer in the council of six. In this position, she takes up Curthadir's conviction that Kælon must be king of Ardiil. In defense of this belief, Natalie gives everything she has, including her life.</span></div>
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<br /></div>Thorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12718091563257245519noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2618065498214765358.post-65649512425892384232011-12-08T11:00:00.000-08:002011-12-08T11:00:03.176-08:00Short Summary of Novel<h3>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>1 sentence:</b></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A girl from another world and a boy with an untold secret must find a legend to defeat the dreaded demon lords.</span></div>
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<h3>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>1 paragraph: </b></span></h3>
</div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Natalie, a young lady with a mysterious necklace, flees to another world to escape certain death only to find herself in the middle of a world torn by chaos, war, and forgotten histories. Kaelon is the unknowing heir to a throne that has been ruled by demon lords for four hundred years. Natalie and Kaelon find one another on different paths to the same road: the road of fate. They must overcome their fears and find a great legend if they are to defeat the demon lords and set Kaelon on the throne.</span></div>
<div class="p3">
<br /></div>Thorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12718091563257245519noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2618065498214765358.post-28825407918539383462011-12-07T17:30:00.000-08:002011-12-07T17:30:01.066-08:00A Quick Update on My Novel<br />
<div class="p1">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I definitely feel much more confident with writing than I did before. I keep working on the story in my spare time. Even with what sounds like so little to do, I find that time is always hard to come by. </span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The Snowflake Method asks for a lot of time spent on a small task. He asks you to spend an hour on the first sentence and then another hour expanding that sentence into a paragraph. It doesn’t seem like it should take that long, and to be honest, my mind starts to wander at some point. I usually don’t spend the whole hour, but taking more than just a few seconds of half an hour seems to help me clarify what I mean. (for those of you who are new to my blog, here is a link to the method of writing I’m talking about: <a href="http://www.advancedfictionwriting.com/art/snowflake.php"><span class="s1">Snowflake Method</span></a>). </span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I start off by writing what comes to my mind after a few minutes of thought, then I consider if that’s what I really mean and try to use exactly the words that say what I want. I don’t know if that’s what I’m supposed to do, but it seems like if he’s suggesting I should take an hour to write a sentence, then I should put some serious thought into it. </span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It seemed silly to put the sentence into its own blog, and an expanded paragraph in its own, so I am going to put them together when I get them online. From here on, I will put each step of the method in its own blog though. I hope it doesn’t bog you all down, but I wanted to show each step as I do it. </span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I’m about to have some friends over for dinner, so I will have to post the sentence and paragraph tomorrow or when I have a chance. I have started working on step 3. It’s difficult to put an entire storyline of a character into a single sentence, but I will get it done and post as I can. Thanks for reading!</span></div>Thorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12718091563257245519noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2618065498214765358.post-74259655018248103812011-12-06T18:57:00.000-08:002011-12-06T18:57:28.842-08:00About Thanksgiving<h3>
<br />
<div class="p1">
<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">About Thanksgiving Weekend</span></b></div>
</h3>
<div class="p1">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I never wrote about Thanksgiving weekend, and Christmas is coming quicker all the time. I have a lot of shopping to get done still. It’s always the hardest part of the season to figure out who to buy for and who to really invest in. Maybe the being broke part is another good first-place problem with the season. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In all reality, I do love Christmas though. It’s been snowing here in Denver, and I’ve enjoyed spending some time in the snow. There’s not too much to do as far as landscaping in the winter, so I’ve had a bit more free time than usual, but I’ve been working as a snow-shoveler around the neighborhood. It keeps me busy, and I make a little extra spending money with it. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I bet being in southern California this time of year would be awesome, but it would also leave me without snow and all the things that make Christmastime… well, Christmastime. The good news is, I can shop online so I don’t have to drive in the snow we had this last weekend, but I do get to blog and surf the Internet with a warm cup of tea in my hand. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I’ve been getting a lot more into tea recently. I hadn’t realized there were so many amazing flavors. I’ve been a coffee drinker for a long time, but tea is new to me, and I wish I had tried it before. Maybe I should open a tea store….</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And, I’m not talking these bags of teas I had as a kid. These teas are bags of dried herbs and stuff that you put into a strainer then place in hot water. There’s a place in Lakewood called Village Roaster. I went there with my friend, Jon. He got this tea called “Russian Caravan,” and we had some. It was a sweat taste mixed with the smell of smoking meat. It’s hard to explain, but I loved it! I went back and asked the lady what a good tea to try was. She suggested a Jasmine tea with sugar in it. That is what I’m drinking now, and it is soooo good!</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b></b></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<h3>
<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Another Attempt at Talking about Thanksgiving Weekend</span></b></h3>
</div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Anyway, now that I have gotten off the topic of Thanksgiving, I was going to tell you about my Thanksgiving weekend. I met my family at Angel Fire Resort in New Mexico. We stayed for the weekend and went skiing some. It was a fun time to just hang out. We didn’t have a big or fabulous dinner, but we got some food the day before and heated it up for our Thanksgiving dinner. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We’ve never had Thanksgiving away from home before, but they decided that since Sigmund, my brother, wasn’t home, we might as well try something different (It’s normally just the 4 of us anyway). It was a great time, and I’d like to do it again. My mom and I have never been very serious or very good at skiing, but my dad has done it for most of his life. Growing up, he was the only one with his own set of gear. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">After our wonderful meal of leftover Chinese food and Mai Tais, compliments of some mix we picked up while shopping for the weekend, we watched <i>Law Abiding Citizen</i>, which, for some reason, I had never seen. The movie was great! I couldn’t look away the whole time. I really like movies that have a lot of things going on. This one seemed like a chess game to me. I think that’s part of what made it so great.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It seems like the less you expect something to happen in a book or movie, the better it is when that happens. Apparently this isn’t true for everyone though. My friend I mentioned before, Jon, said he’s been reading a series he called <i>A Song of Ice and Fire</i>. He said the author kills off so many characters you quit being attached to them, and then the death becomes normal and almost depressing. It must be a good series since he talk about it a lot though. </span></div>Thorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12718091563257245519noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2618065498214765358.post-70743515511522005032011-12-03T18:30:00.000-08:002011-12-11T18:21:03.843-08:00Make Your Characters Alive!<b style="font-size: 19px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d;">Introduction
to a New Method of Writing</span></span></b><br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0in;">
<span class="apple-style-span"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Have you ever wondered why
some characters seem alive and interesting while others seem dead? I ran into
this problem a few times as I was trying to start my novel. The more I thought
about it, the more I realized that unless the characters are interesting, the
novel will never become something amazing. I’ve been trying to figure out a
good way to keep the characters interesting while still progressing the story
forward. I found an excellent resource to help with this. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0in;">
<span class="apple-style-span"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">When I first found the </span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><a href="http://www.advancedfictionwriting.com/art/snowflake.php">Snowflake Method
of Writing</a>, I was overwhelmed by what it was asking me to do. The author,
Randy Ingermason, suggests that the best way to write a novel is not to sit
down and start writing, but to start with an idea, then expand that idea, then
expand that idea, and so on, until you have a working outline for each section
of the novel. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">This
seemed to be a bad way of writing to me since you spend so much time preparing
for the novel, and what happens when you start realizing that part of your
outline, which you spent days creating, no longer works because as you wrote,
more ideas or realizations came to mind.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">As
I thought about it, I found something that said J.R.R. Tolkein, author of <i>Lord of the Rings</i> wrote hundreds of
pages of notes that never made it into the books themselves. For those of you
who haven’t read the books, <i>The Lord of
the Rings</i> is 1030+ pages in hardback, and <i>The Silmarillion</i> is another 300+ pages in hardback. He also has
more books which I have not written. The thought of having hundreds more pages
just in notes seems ludicrous to me, but it’s the same thing Ingermason says to
do. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<h3>
<b><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d;">How to Use the Snowflake Method to
Develop Characters</span><o:p></o:p></span></b></h3>
</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">In
the third step of the Snowflake Method, Ingermason suggests looking at the
characters and writing summaries for each character. In step 5, you expand
those summaries. Creating good-quality characters is difficult because most
people want to base the characters off themsleves or someone they know. This
works, up to a point, but eventually you may find that many of the characters
think the same, especially the minor characters. This is because you are one
person writing twenty different lives.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">In
order to develop your characters more fully, begin by writing a summary of each
character. Here are some great questions I’ve thought of. Ingermason echoes
some of these:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin-left: 1.0in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';">
</span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Who
is your character?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin-left: 1.0in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';">
</span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Why
is he/she where he/she is?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin-left: 1.0in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';">
</span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">How
did your character grow up?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin-left: 1.0in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';">
</span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">What
is the motivation for your character at this point in their life? How did they
get there?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin-left: 1.0in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';">
</span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">How
does your character see the world as it relates to their appearance?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin-left: 1.0in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';">
</span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Who
else is in your character’s life that affects them and their decisions?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">If
you use the Snowflake Method, these questions should start in step 3 and
continue into step 5. Some futher questions for when you’re getting to the
small details are:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin-left: 1.0in; mso-list: l1 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';">
</span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">When
was he/she born?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin-left: 1.0in; mso-list: l1 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';">
</span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">What
does their culture tell them to believe? How do they respond?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin-left: 1.0in; mso-list: l1 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';">
</span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">What
are his/her core values?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin-left: 1.0in; mso-list: l1 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';">
</span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Favorite
color?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin-left: 1.0in; mso-list: l1 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';">
</span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Favorite
food?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin-left: 1.0in; mso-list: l1 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';">
</span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Quirks?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin-left: 1.0in; mso-list: l1 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';">
</span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Etc.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Many
of these can be important questions that provide opportunities for the Chekov’s
Gun technique later in your novel.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<h3>
<b><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d;">How I am Going to Use this Information
to Develop my Novel</span><o:p></o:p></span></b></h3>
</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<b><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"> </span></b><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">I have struggled over whether or not
to use the Snowflake Method in my novel. I know I want to use it for character
development, but I don’t know if I want to basically start my novel over by
using this method. There are pros and cons to both options.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">On
the one hand, if I use the snowflake method, then my current work may go to
waste or be left for a while. Using it will also cause me to do a lot of work
that I am still not convinced is necessary.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">On
the other hand, if I continue with my novel, then I may be lacking in
development by not using this method. I may also not have as developed of ideas
as I would like by simply writing free-hand.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">After
struggling for some time, I decided that I am going to begin developing my
novel using this method. I did some research which led me to believe that
different people write better with different methods, but since this is an
experiment for both my sake and the sake of anyone reading, I want to make sure
to explore every avenue possible. Also, since this is my first attempt at writing
a novel, it seemed wise to take the counsel of those who have written before. I
will put all of my notes I create using the snowflake method in this section: <a href="http://bumbulwrites.blogspot.com/search/label/My%20Novel%20-%20Notes">My
Novel - Notes</a>. Enjoy! <o:p></o:p></span></div>Thorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12718091563257245519noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2618065498214765358.post-58422949750411049282011-11-28T16:42:00.000-08:002011-12-11T16:37:50.649-08:00Chapter 2<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 5.0pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Natalie held the limp form of her sister against her chest. The heat
exited quickly, and the flesh began to grow cold. Natalie sat in silence and
mourned her sister and only friend. She made no attempt at composure or to even
observe the world she had entered; she only held the lifeless body in front of
her.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 5.0pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">After a time, the wizard said in a sympathetic voice, “I am sorry that
your sister is dead. She was a valiant person in your world, but she has been
separated from mourning and entered into a new life. Why mourn her body?”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 5.0pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Natalie looked up for the first time and saw that there was nothing
around her or beneath her. She sat in a void; darkness encompassed her and the
man in a dark cloak before her. “What do you mean?” Natalie asked. “It is all I
have of her left to mourn.” The gentleness of the wizard’s voice was all that
kept her from screaming at him and erupting into tears.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 5.0pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“We are in the land of the dead now, but soon we will return to the land
of the living. There, her body cannot go. Think of her in your spirit, for
there she is” the wizard made a gesture to Natalie’s side, “more real than this
limp form.” Natalie wasn’t sure if she should be upset or confused.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 5.0pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“I am sorry for your loss, child. Though it is hard to bear, remember
that she has gained. Her task in your world was completed, and now she has
departed from her body. As you mourn, don’t do so without joy. Be glad that she
has been given a better life.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 5.0pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“There is a river over the next ridge. We can send her down the river so
that she may have a warrior’s burial,” the wizard offered, “but we must return
to the land I came from as soon as possible, else we might be stuck in this
land forever.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 5.0pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Where are we?” Natalie questioned, wiping water from her eye. She stood
to attempt looking around, but she could find nothing to let her eyes linger
on. Attempting to look into a void was almost sickening to her. When she put a
hand on her stomach, the pain reminded her that she had not escaped unscathed. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 5.0pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“This is the Netherworld. It is said that the King’s dwelling resides here.
Those spirits who leave their bodies journey here. The ones who are invited of
the King find eternal peace in this place.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 5.0pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“And what of the ones who aren’t invited?” Natalie, thinking of her
sister, asked. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 5.0pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“They roam the land forever, lost in despair.” The wizard responded then
looked to see the sadness in Natalie’s face. “I wouldn’t doubt if your sister
was invited of the King.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 5.0pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Why? She never mentioned a king . . . ” Natalie held back tears as she
asked.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 5.0pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“This necklace in her pouch.” The wizard grabbed the pendant that had
slipped from the pouch around Jessica’s neck. “It is one of the King’s many
seals,” the wizard said. “Each is unique, but most are passed from person to
person as a gift.” In this case, your mother gave it to your sister and now you
have acquired it. You must protect it.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 5.0pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“What do you know about my mother?” Natalie demanded.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 5.0pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“You will understand more if you will come with me.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 5.0pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“But to where?” Natalie asked. “There’s nothing here. It makes me sick
just trying to see anything more than you or this darkness. It’s nothing but
you and I and…”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 5.0pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The wizard chuckled at his mistake. “I’m sorry, my dear. I forgot. Come;
kneel before me.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 5.0pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Natalie winced from the scrapes on her knees when she knelt before the
wizard.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 5.0pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The wizard placed his hands on her eyes and looked up. “Aesa fir Sprité.”
When the wizard removed his hand, Natalie saw the rocky cliffs around her and heard
the sound of a raging river that flowed near them. Natalie stood warily to get
a better look at the world around them. Cliffs in the shapes of camels across
the ravine from her stood motionless and solid. <i>This isn’t Astranaar, and it’s not the place I’ve seen in my dreams…</i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 5.0pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Natalie,” Jessica’s voice said from Natalie’s right. She turned and saw
her sister looking more radiant and full of confidence than ever. Natalie said
nothing, but looked from the lifeless body to her sister and back.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 5.0pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Natalie, it’s me. While I was waiting for you to arrive, a messenger
came to tell me that I was to go to the King’s palace.” Jessica produced a
scroll with a wax seal on it. The seal contained the same bird as their mother’s
pendant. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 5.0pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“What happened? I thought I saw you die.” Natalie moved toward her sister
and took hold of her hands.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 5.0pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“I am dead. Weren’t you told that this is the land of the dead? I don’t
know any more than that, but it seems like I’m headed for an exciting
adventure.” The glow in Jessica’s cheeks made Natalie want to cry. She had not
seen her sister this happy or beautiful in years.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 5.0pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Will I see you again?” Natalie asked with tears flowing haphazardly
across her face.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 5.0pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“I’m sure you will, but I was told not to wait long. The messenger said
that no one who is called should be taken off track from the King or else she
may forget the way.” Jessica embraced her sister then said in a light voice,
“Be brave. You have always made me proud.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 5.0pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Natalie returned the hug with more fervor than ever before. “Do you have
to?”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 5.0pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“I’m afraid so. Don’t cry for me. You will need all your strength to
continue through what life has for you. I’m going to a wonderful place.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 5.0pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Natalie gripped her sister tighter one more time before beginning to
release. “I’ll make you proud; you and mom.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 5.0pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Jessica nodded and pulled away. “I know you will. Bye.” Jessica began
down the path along the river away from where Natalie and the wizard stood.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 5.0pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">After a moment, the wizard said plainly, “You’ve been hurt.” He motioned
to the blood on her shirt. “It was foolish of me to forget, but that’s easily
remedied.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 5.0pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Natalie looked at the man with intense, red, wet eyes. “You can heal me
too?” He words came with the distinct sound of one restraining sobs.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 5.0pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“My dear, nothing is impossible.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 5.0pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The wizard gently took Jessica’s body in his arms and led Natalie to the
river of which he had spoken. Taking a board, slightly larger than Jessica’s
body, from the bank, he laid the board on the water with her on top. He looked
at Natalie who still stood on the bank of the river. “May I?”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 5.0pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Natalie stared at his clear, grey eyes a moment then nodded. He closed
his eyes and spoke the words “Hular eh Hutar.” Then he released the body to the
stream. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 5.0pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Natalie watched the body and board ignite as they floated atop the stream
until they were out of sight. She raised her eyes to meet those of the wizard
before her.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 5.0pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Don’t worry; come and be healed.” The old man beckoned for her. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 5.0pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Natalie stepped forward, her feet uncertain and slightly shaky; she took
the man’s hand and stepped into the water. It didn’t simply flow around her,
but seemed to fill her and pervade her pores. At first it was frightening and
almost sickening to Natalie, but after a moment, it filled her with euphoria and
a sense of warmth. Her mouth was filled with a taste like that of pure water,
even though only her waist and below was even touching the stream. In the
rushing water, Natalie felt as though she were waking from a good night’s
sleep. Every part of her seemed revitalized. Each moment she was in became more
pleasant than the last. </span></div>
<div style="border-bottom: solid windowtext 1.5pt; border: none; mso-element: para-border-div; padding: 0in 0in 1.0pt 0in;">
<div class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 5.0pt; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext 1.5pt; mso-padding-alt: 0in 0in 1.0pt 0in; padding: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When Natalie emerged, she felt as though her
pain and sorrow had been taken from her though a twinge of sadness remained in
her stomach. Her torso was no longer bloodied, nor was her arms. Her body felt
renewed, but more than that, her mind was invigorated. Natalie would later say
that in that moment, life had been returned to her lifeless soul, but that is a
tale for another day.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 5.0pt; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext 1.5pt; mso-padding-alt: 0in 0in 1.0pt 0in; padding: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 5.0pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 5.0pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Little more than four hundred years ago, the peoples of Ardiil lived in
peace. It is said that four millennia before the time of peace, a deity, who
was called Edar by the songs of old and the stories of history, created the
world, but today he is unknown to the people of our world. Many of the bards called
him Iskatar, which means “Giver of Song” in the old tongue. Iskatar left
representatives for him from among the lines of men to rule over the people and
protect them. Some say he left to the sky to watch Ardiil from afar, and others
said he stood among them, hidden, to watch them and see how they would live.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 5.0pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“The kings were noble men of the line of Huar. The legends say that the
men of the line were just and merciful. Their arms held strength that could not
be contested, and fire burned in their eyes, from the their undying passion,
that could scarce be equaled. There are few stories that tell of the full fire
of one of the line of Huar being revealed, but it is said that at any given
time, a streak of fire could be seen in their eyes. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 5.0pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“The women of the line were the fairest and greatest in beauty in all the
land. Their hair was said to never grow dull and their skin never coarse. Many
stories claim that the songs of one of these women had the power to defeat even
the strongest of evils and brighten the darkest cavern. The line of Huar lived
a long time compared to others because Iskatar had blessed them. They had
wisdom and were upright in heart.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 5.0pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“It sounds like a wonderful place to live,” Natalie remarked.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 5.0pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“I bet it was. Now we come to the sad part of our tale, though. The last
of that line died off nearly four hundred years ago. It is said that during
that age of peace arrived four lords of darkness to torment Ardiil. Wise men
say that they came to this world to control men who are beloved of Iskatar,
their immortal enemy, because of a struggle that has existed as far back as
time itself and further yet. These lords of darkness were full of greed and
hatred. They found pleasure in tormenting anyone who stood in their path of
conquest. They called themselves Durtaron, Satiriil, Keftar, and Mokhta, their
leader. In the old tongue they were called Korgar, which means “Lords of dread.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 5.0pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“They are masters of fear. Over four hundred years ago, they began to
whisper lies and deceit to the men of the land through dreams and visions. The
Korgar soon had a large following who hated and mistrusted both Iskatar and the
line of Huar. In this way, even those that did not follow the Korgar were
hardened, to a degree, against the king and Iskatar. When war came, no one was
willing to call upon Iskatar because of their anger and distrust toward him.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 5.0pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“It was not long before battle began. The Korgar sent the men that
followed them as well as Daimonion, meaning “lesser darkness,” to attack the
kingdom of men for six years until King Turgon and his kin were weak from
battle and the armies of men had grown thin.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 5.0pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“In those days, some men grew faint of heart and forsook their oaths to
the king. They fled to the east to escape war while others joined the army of
the Korgar out of fear of death. Yet, in those days, some men arose whose
valiant deeds have been sung about to inspire others to arms even to this day. Perhaps
I will sing to you of the valor of the Nephli some time. After six years of
battle, the Korgar themselves attacked. They came in such a terrible force and
with such destruction in their wake that most of the remaining army gave up all
hope.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 5.0pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“King Turgon and his sons and brothers, with a host of a hundred thousand
men, battled with this evil force on the fords of Kargorath. For nearly two
days, the army of King Turgon fought valiantly. The king and his three brothers
met the four lords of darkness in vicious combat. Legends say lightning sparked
from the swords as they clashed, although these legends are not spoken much for
fear of the Korgar. Durtaron received three wounds, Satirill lost his left
hand, Keftar was cleaved from forhead to chin, and Mokhta bears in his shoulder
a scar from the sword of King Turgon. The Korgar were all but defeated by the
valiant effort of King Turgon and his brothers when wicked men arose from among
the king’s army and turned against them and slew them from behind.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 5.0pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“The battle was lost and with the king fell the kingdom. Women took their
children and fled into the hills and to the eastern lands to escape the
onslaught that was expected to ensue. The Korgar were angry because of their
wounds, but even more because of the final words of King Turgon, “While one yet
remains of the line of Huar, the Korgar shall be slain.” Therefore the Korgar
sought to kill all the children in the line of Huar. They claimed their actions
as just revenge on insolence, but I think they fear the words of those whom
Iskatar chose.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 5.0pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Four hundred years ago, the last of the line of Huar died and the land
where they had lived in was given to the pawns that had served the Korgar. The
Korgar now rule everything. Small kingdoms of resistance sprung up, but they
were no match for them. The Korgar kill anyone who opposes them, but they
rarely need to. Most of the spirits of men are bound in fear because of the
Daimonion.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 5.0pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Men began to fear death and anything of the spirit. Their own spirits
shriveled within them, all but dead. Fear blinded them to anything not
physical, thus the Daimonion, who are spirits, were able to take over their
bodies and distort their way of thinking. Men grew weak, but a few remained
strong in heart and sought out Iskatar. A small group despised the Korgar so
greatly that they vowed to find Iskatar or die in the process. These traveled
through across the river and to the east where they were taken to this very
land we are in now. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 5.0pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Over one hundred years ago they returned, but not as they had left. Two
returned as wizards, two as warriors, and two as seers. Their spirits had had
been set free by Iskatar and they were taught the ways of the old men, when
Iskatar made his presence known among men. These six composed a council, known
simply as the council of seven, to lead men against darkness. Iskatar and the
council send these six and anyone who would join them on a host of missions.
They are sometimes sent to save and other times to fight against the unseen
forces in this world. That is why I came to you. I am Lokai of the council. The
seer Asadi knew that you must come to us.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 5.0pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Natalie stared in wonder as the wizard talked. She began to speak several times, but as the words of the
wizard held her imagination captive, she remained silent. It was better than
any story her mother had told her as a child, but worse because it was more
than a story. It was real. Natalie glanced at the desert around her. She had no
way to tell how far they had traveled since she entered this strange place.
Finally she asked, “Why doesn’t Iskatar come to help?”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 5.0pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“That’s the problem, my dear. He has been around the whole time. He is
waiting to help anyone that would let him, but He gave this land to men. When
men chose to reject him at the start of the war, he chose to let them be until
they saw fit to humble themselves and seek him.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 5.0pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Natalie gave a look of mixed emotion. “Okay.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 5.0pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“There is yet one person missing from the council, an heir of the line of
Huar. Kotari, our leader, believes that there is one that yet lives. He must be
found, for if it is true then there is hope for men against the Korgar. Even if
he is not, it would be nothing for Iskatar to raise up a new heir to the line
of Huar from anyone, but since he has not, I am inclined to agree with Kotari.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 5.0pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Natalie thought in amazement at all that the wizard told her. She felt inadequate
to understand the state of things in this strange world. One thing nagged her
though, a question that needed to be answered. “What did Asadi see? Why am I to
come to your land? Why am I not dead like my sister?” Her voice trailed off and
tears threatened to open the gates of her eyes.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 5.0pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Every person who is still alive has a part to play, but if I told you
then perhaps you might not believe or perhaps you might run from the very thing
you must do. In truth, I don’t know, but even if I did I wouldn’t tell you. When
the time comes, you will play your part, but until then we will teach you all
that we can.” Lokai stopped and looked around. Natalie followed his eyes and
saw that they were no longer in the desert, but on a clear walkway with nothing
but darkness before, above, and below them. She looked behind to see an array
of geographical locations and climates as the wizard had only a day ago.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 5.0pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“What lies beyond the sea there?” Natalie stared at the scene with wide
eyes. “Where are we?”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 5.0pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Neither question is easy to answer. This place is called the Netherworld
as I explained earlier. All time and space exists here simultaneously. Each of
the paths you see leads to a differing time or place or world. If one doesn’t
know the way they are supposed to travel, it is easy to become lost. The door
through which one enters only remains open a certain amount of time. If he
returns after it closes, then he is trapped in this land unless the King allows
another way out. There are no tales to tell the doom of those who have been
lost in here, but I do not wish to find out for myself.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 5.0pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Natalie saw Lokai begin to walk again and picked up her own pace. “Where
is this door?”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 5.0pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Right in front of you. Stop.” Lokai responded urgently, but Natalie had
been in such a hurry that she ran into the invisible door before her.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 5.0pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Lokai laughed and motioned for her to return to him then raised his
staff. “Inis Tar Kogar, it is finished.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 5.0pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">His voice echoed as though he was in a cave. Suddenly, a great flash
appeared, and a brilliant light shone as a doorway. The wizard led Natalie
through the door. Before she could understand what she felt, they stood in the
clearing in the forest of Tulien where the wizard had been the day before.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 5.0pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Natalie looked at the night sky. Only a single star shone, but it lit the
area over the wizard and herself. The trees loomed over them in the darkness. Natalie
shivered. The night was warm enough, but something about this world terrified
and excited her.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 5.0pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Although my name is Lokai, to my friends I am called Curthadir. This
place is my home, the world of Ardiil.” Lokai sighed at the thought of what his
home was. “We haven’t much time. We must venture to the town of Garath on the
edge of this forest for provisions, then we will travel to the kingdom of Lang
Gradand in the forest of Lomond. There you will meet the rest of the council.</span></div>Thorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12718091563257245519noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2618065498214765358.post-36951694509228902422011-11-22T17:34:00.000-08:002011-11-29T19:09:03.646-08:00Check Out This Reason to Write a Novel!<br />
<h3>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<b><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d;">Publishing Around the World</span></span></b></div>
</h3>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Wow, look
at this article on a </span><a href="http://www.guardian.co.uk/books/booksblog/2011/nov/04/china-future-publishing"><span style="color: #0070c0; font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">self-publishing craze in
China</span></a><u><span style="color: #0070c0; font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">!</span></u><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"> This is amazing! People are writing
stories one chapter at a time, like I’m doing, and other people are paying to
read them. It’s like the Victorian novels or even works like Stephen King used
to do when he was younger.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"> I thought serial publications were a thing of
the past, but here’s an entire publishing trend based on them. I was right in
my first post, there is a lot of money to be made in the world of writing. Look
at what the article says, one guy makes the equivalent of about ₤100,000 a
year. That’s about $160,000 a year just from his serial publications. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">I should
slow down and explain a little, but this is really exciting to me. Basically, a
company in China has started encouraging people to write as a community. It
seems like each person is writing their own book. Other people then pay for
each installment of the novel that is being written.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"> For example, they might charge 10 cents for
each part/chapter of the book I’m writing in this blog. With thousands of
people reading, I could be making hundreds of dollars a day off each
installation. The company has so many people writing and reading, that they are
able to keep publishing everything from quality books to amateur fan fiction.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<h3>
<b><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d;">Another Reason to Start Writing Your
Novel</span></span></b></h3>
</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">I want to
start a company like this, now. I could call it “Thor’s Writing Hotspot” or
something more reminiscent of 1980s magazines that used to have books by
installment: maybe “Poltergeist Publishing” ^_^. The article says that the
biggest problem for starting a company like that over here is that in the west,
not enough people are writers, but I wonder if that’s true. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">I know a
lot of people who have wanted to write a book or who have even tried. I think
most of us don’t finish because we don’t have time or become interested in
something else, but look at how much of an interest there is in books,
especially now that we have mobile devices to read on. I read this article on
my iPhone!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Is anyone
else interested in writing a book? Maybe if we start a community here, we can
make it grow into something like they did in China. I’m definitely going to
keep writing my book. Please offer any thoughts or feedback you have! <o:p></o:p></span></div>Thorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12718091563257245519noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2618065498214765358.post-76527831609230894452011-11-15T17:52:00.000-08:002012-01-01T14:43:27.790-08:00Chapter 1 - part2<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 150%;">“The time approaches.”
An elderly man stood from his seat on a rock. He was surprisingly nimble despite
the fact that he looked nearly seventy years old. White hair, forming a short,
full beard, flowed from under the hood of the robe the man wore. His lips were
full of purpose and held tightly together. The forest around the man was quiet
with anticipation. Rumors and legends had been passed down, even among the
trees, of the days and months that would follow this fateful day. Despite the
rumors, no one could say with any certainty what would come. Prophecy is as
true in metaphor as it is in physical reality. The man stood in a clearing
amongst the trees, deep in the Tulien Forest, near the kingdom of Huor, or so it was in days of old. The palace
as well as the king in it now crumbled under oppression. The king had not been
in the line of Huor for over four hundred years. That is why the trees watched
with fervor.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 150%;">The arms under the
long, black robe grasped an oak staff in their hands and slammed it into the ground.
“Open,” the man commanded with soft authority.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 150%;">Even as the words
were spoken, a light went forth on the ground in the likeness of a spider web.
The strands of the light grew slowly until the man was engulfed by the luminescence
which was no longer confined to the ground, but shot into the sky with such
intensity, it is a wonder the whole land did not notice, but this moment was
set forth from the beginning of time so that no man would look upon the light
when it came. Few days were created in such a manner. Every once in a while,
fate will intervene in the physical world and protect those who do right. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 150%;">The man sank through
the earth as a ghost through the wall, and as suddenly as the light had come,
both he and the it were gone. The man’s feet soon found stability in a rock
cavern beneath the earth. At the rate of his travel, the man could never
estimate the depth beneath the surface he was. Before him stood an iron gate
with ancient symbols on it. Only a chosen few knew then inscription that was
there. Even this man only knew parts of it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 150%;">From the gate, which rose
as high and wide as the cavern itself, large enough to fit a giant through,
came two lights which shone like eyes. “What business do you have, Wizard?” The
voice was loud in the ears of the wizard, yet no one else would have heard it
had they been there.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 150%;">“The time that
Iskatar has appointed is at hand. It is time.” The wizard’s replied solemnly,
but only in thought.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 150%;">“And by whose
authority do you do these things? No magic or incantation can open my doors
without my help.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 150%;">“Inis Tar Kogar.” The
wizard answered in the ancient tongue, the same as was written on the sides of
the doors.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 150%;">“As you say, Wizard.
You have until sunrise the day after this to return. Beware, Wizard, do not
stray off your course. The Netherworld is a danger to those who know not the
way.” The light from the gate faded and the door slowly opened.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 150%;">The wizard took up
his staff and strode through the door, which led only into darkness. Once the
wizard had completely passed through the gate, the gate itself disappeared
behind him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 150%;">Many stories have
been told about the Netherworld, but none that tells the stories have ever seen
it. Many legends say that the Netherworld encompasses all time and space. A
kingdom is mentioned in some legends, and it is said that if one knew the way
and bore the king’s summons, he might find his way to the king’s throne,
forgotten somewhere in the in this mystical land. Few living beings even
believed such tales, and fewer yet had ever dared to seek the door. Such
stories were only known in legend. The king’s throne was not the wizard’s
purpose on this day, however.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 150%;">The wizard had never
been to this part of the Netherworld before, but had been told well what to
expect. He closed his eyes and his spirit rose from his body as corn from the
husk. The spirit of the wizard remained partially inside his body, although
only enough to control it. The eyes of the wizard’s spirit were needed for this
job, for once his head emerged from his body, the wizard looked again upon the
world around him and saw not a void of darkness, but an array of lands and
climates. Ice cliffs with dancing colors in the heavens stood to his far right.
To the left of that was desert and rocks, next was a lush forest full of
critters and rain, next a violet sea with cold, gray clouds above. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 150%;">The list continued, but
the wizard did not have the time to stare in wonder. His mission must be
complete in a day, lest he be trapped here forever. His spirit and not his body
spoke the words, “Inis Tar Kogar.” A row of lights, like fireflies, lit the way
toward the rocky desert to his right. In this manner, the wizard began his
journey to the land called Astranaar.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="border-bottom: solid windowtext 1.5pt; border: none; mso-element: para-border-div; padding: 0in 0in 1.0pt 0in;">
<div class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; line-height: 150%; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext 1.5pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-padding-alt: 0in 0in 1.0pt 0in; mso-pagination: none; padding: 0in; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 150%;">Natalie was half
pulled by her sister into a small hole that led off from the main cavern and
then led into a little cubby that had been cut above. “Even if we could outrun
them, we can’t keep dodging bullets, especially with your passing out.” Jessica
said in a hushed voice as they reached the little cubby. Natalie only returned
a shy smile at the comment.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 150%;">Time is never
constant, but especially to those who feel the breath of death upon their
necks. Time meant nothing to the sisters; they huddled in that little cubby, ignorant
of what was going on beneath them, save the occasional shout or sound of
someone shuffling. Silent tears of fear ran off of Natalie’s cheeks as it
finally sank into her thoughts the situation they were in. Jessica held her
sister as a mother might have, keeping her own cheeks dry out of a need to
protect her younger sister. After what may have been several hours had passed,
the girls each in turn, fell into a troubled sleep, both waking often in fear
of the return of the soldiers.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 150%;">“Natalie?!” a voice
called. Natalie looked around the dark tunnel to see a group of guards rushing
at her. Fear consumed the girl who couldn’t even move away from the stream of
soldiers, then her father showed his face among the throng with a gun in his
hand. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 150%;">“Where is it, Natalie?”
Natalie instantly knew it had been her father calling.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 150%;">“NO! You can’t have
it!” Natalie screamed then began to cry as she sank to the floor before her
apparent destiny.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 150%;">“Fine.” Her father
retorted. “Have it your way.” He raised the gun and a pure white light engulfed
Natalie, similar to before, but the light had warmth to it this time.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 150%;">“Natalie.” The voice
was a new one, but it seemed similar, like a long, lost friend. “Natalie, prepare
yourself. There is a life greater for you than this, but you must give up
everything if you will have it. Do not fear, for you will not be alone. The
time is nearly here.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 150%;">Jessica screamed,
“Stop!” The scream woke Natalie. At once, Natalie remembered the nightmare she
was in and tried to decide how to proceed. At the entrance to the cubby where
she sat, two soldiers grappled with her sister in an attempt to drag her
outside.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 150%;">The sound of a gun
unloading on the soldiers in the small cubby almost deafened Natalie. The
soldiers went limp and Jessica kicked them down the shaft to the floor below
before retreating to her sister. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 150%;">“Don’t kill them.”
The governor insisted. “I want them alive.” Two more guards showed their heads
in the cubby; Jessica only hit one this time. A second later, a canister came
flying into the cubby and gas began to pour out. The girls instantly began to
feel faint. Tears poured from their eyes, and blurred hands dragged them down
from the cubby. Forceful men, scraping the girls skin against the rocks and
dirt on the cavern floor and walls, dragged them by their legs into the main
area of the cavern. The same hands shoved the girls against the side of the
cavern wall a distance from the cubby where they had been. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 150%;">By this point their
bleeding arms and stomachs, mixed with the pain in their heads made them crave an
escape. Any escape. Even death. Both girls knew death to be inevitable at this
point, but both grew less resistant to the idea. Natalie held onto the calming
voice that had been in her dream and she held onto the idea of her land of
dreams so tightly that she didn’t even hear the screaming threats of her father
at first.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 150%;">“Don’t tell him,
Natalie.” Jessica insisted to her sister. “He’ll kill us either way.” It didn’t
take a lot of effort for Natalie to guess the context of the conversation.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 150%;">“What was that?” the
governor demanded.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 150%;">“You’ll never find
it! And what’s more, you’re a pig-headed pompous ---” Jessica was cut off from
finishing her insult by the butt of a rifle to the side of her head.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 150%;">“Listen, rats.
Without me, you’ll be dead on the street in a week. Tell me where it is and
I’ll help you. Insult me or fail to cooperate, and I will not hesitate to treat
you like the scum you are.” The governor’s voice was sadistically calm.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 150%;">“You’re an Ass! Leave
us alone! It’s not our fault you killed mom! Go find your own damn necklace
wherever it is!” Natalie’s blood boiled so deeply that she couldn’t keep from
speaking. She waited the blow that was likely to come from the soldier, but
never came. She shuddered upon looking at her sister’s crimson head.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 150%;">The governor drew his black handgun and
pointed it toward the lifeless gaze of Jessica’s eyes. “I see. . . well, then I
guess I’ll just kill her first. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 150%;">“NOOO!” Natalie could
handle death, but watching her sister die seemed too much. She jumped between
the gun and her sister. “If you want her, you’ll have to kill me.” Natalie
insisted.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 150%;">“No. I think not.”
The governor motioned for one of his soldiers who grabbed Natalie and pulled
her away. Natalie, trying to protect her sister, kicked and screamed against
the soldier. The governor lowered his gun to Jessica’s heart then pulled the
trigger.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 150%;">“No. . .” Natalie’s
voice trailed off. “How. . .” Natalie’s world crumbled in the moment her
sister’s blood turned her white shirt deep red. Natalie attacked the governor
with such intensity and zeal that she knocked him over. In the second of
punches and scratches before the guards could drag her off, Natalie ravaged the
left side of his face. Two of the soldiers held Natalie against the wall while
the governor took aim with his gun.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 150%;">“The time in now,
Natalie. Will you come with me?” Spoke the voice Natalie had dreamed about for
such a long time now. Back then, the dream seemed so wonderful, but now only
death seemed worth living for.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 150%;">A white light
appeared behind Natalie’s head and grew to encompass her whole body. Hands
reached forth from the light and grabbed her shoulders gently. “I won’t leave
my sister.” Natalie sobbed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 150%;">“Come and you will
know life. Stay and even the life you have will be taken.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 150%;">“I. . .” Natalie
looked around to see the scene around her frozen in time. “Let me take my
sister.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 150%;">“Her life is already
gone, your sister is no longer with you, only her shell.”<br />
“It doesn’t matter! Let me
bury her.” Natalie grew angry at the thought of her sister being gone.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 150%;">“Okay.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Natalie drew her
sister close to her chest and screamed, “Take me quickly.”</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>Thorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12718091563257245519noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2618065498214765358.post-2691864103160525212011-11-08T17:32:00.000-08:002011-11-08T19:10:03.424-08:00Coming Up With Ideas For Your Novel<br />
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<b><span style="color: #38761d; font-family: Arial;">A Side-Note on Coming Up With Ideas<o:p></o:p></span></b></h3>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;">I don’t know how most people come up with the ideas for their stories, but I realized the more I thought about my novel and what I had written the more I realized it was similar to so many other stories. I was worried about this, but it seemed like a lot of those stories were similar to each other as well. Take my story for example, it’s similar to Norse mythology and Nightmare Before Christmas in that they travel between worlds, but it’s also similar to Alice in Wonderland in the same regard or even Neverwhere (a book I highly recommend reading).</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;">I felt better about using ideas that have already been taken when I stumbled on (literally stumbleupon.com) this quote by T.S. Eliot from his book The Sacred Wood, “Immature poets imitate; mature poets steal; bad poets deface what they take, and good poets make it into something better, or at least something different.” I basically figure this means, the only way to write a story is to steal something from somewhere else. I first have to be mature enough to accept that it’s stealing, then I need to decide how to make it better. If I only pretend to steal, chances are, I’ll come up with a sad excuse for a book, so I decided I’m willing to use ideas that already exist and make them my own.</span></span><br />
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<b><span style="color: #38761d; font-family: Arial;">Keep a Notepad<o:p></o:p></span></b></h3>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;">In the weeks I have spent writing my novel, I have come up with inspiration in the oddest of places. To be honest, I probably spend more time coming up with ideas for my novel when I should be doing something else than when I’m trying to write.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"> I was on my way to a friend’s house the other day when I had some ideas about the wizard character in my novel. I’ve started keeping a pen and notepad on me, so I stopped and sat down on a wall to write my ideas. When I finished, I had to remember where I was going.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;">I find that most of the time I get an idea, I’m not anywhere I can do anything about it, so I take the notepad home and write it down on the computer when I have a chance.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"> I also get a lot of ideas when listening to music or reading. While reading Dracula, I enjoyed finding out that vampires have a lot of restrictions on what they can or can’t do. Dracula knocks over Jonathan Harker's mirror at one point because he, as a vampire, is invisible in mirrors. Jonathan also finds Dracula sleeping in a coffin in an area of dug-up earth where he could have killed him. </span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;">Being a vampire has its perks, like being able to climb walls; speak with wolves; and have supernatural strength, but it also has a lot of hindrances that make the vampires mortal. I told my friend, Lisette about this, and she mentioned that Dracula also can't enter a house unless invited, much like Mephistopheles.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"> I didn’t know who that was, but I didn’t want to look stupid so I wrote down the name then went on Wikipedia later. Apparently Mephistopheles is the devil, but he can't come in someone’s home unless invited. That gives me great ideas for dark creatures that will exist in my novel. After reading about Mephistopheles, I want to name them daemons or daimoneon. I’m not sure how it will work yet though.</span></span><br />
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<b><span style="color: #38761d; font-family: Arial;">Keep Reading While You Write<o:p></o:p></span></b></h3>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;">I read this quote by Stephen King while looking up ideas on writing: “If you don't have time to read, you don't have the time (or the tools) to write. Simple as that.” I enjoy reading, but I’ve never done it very consistently. Stephen King was relentless in saying this though. I’m not sure how accurate it is, but it makes sense. It’s like a blind person trying to learn to draw, possible but maybe not worth the effort.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;">I started reading several days’ worth of Dracula at a time when I read that. I also picked up a copy of The Hunger Games from a friend in case I have extra time when I’m out. I think it will give me more ideas for my novel. It’s definitely hard to figure out what the balance between writing and reading is, though.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;">I also suggest going to see plays. They are literary too ^_^ I went to see Pygmalion at a local college this last weekend – good job to the people at CCU for doing so well! Pygmalion reflects human character amazingly well. I don’t know that I learned anything from it that could help my novel, but seeing it definitely keeps my creative juices going.</span></span><br />
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<b><span style="color: #38761d; font-family: Arial;">Keep Focused on Your Novel<o:p></o:p></span></b></h3>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;">It’s easy to lose focus when there are so many fun things to write about. I’ve thought about starting so many other novels now that I’m thinking about it, but I have to keep bringing myself back to this one. Who knows how great the novel will be until I write it, and I will never get anything written and published in two years unless I keep my focus where it should be.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;">I try to write a little every day either in or about my novel, even if it’s just for 20 min or half an hour. The thoughts and inspiration come easier each day I write, although I find that my first half hour of writing is usually gibberish. I read somewhere that you should never throw away ideas, but you should keep them in a folder since you don’t know when they will be useful, so that’s what I’ve done for now. Maybe those ramblings will be useful down the road.</span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>Thorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12718091563257245519noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2618065498214765358.post-25201981632133367142011-11-04T22:30:00.000-07:002011-11-10T16:17:18.429-08:00Chapter 1 - part 1<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 24px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 24px;">Natalie looked into of the towering giant’s
malevolent eyes as she pulled taught the bow in her; the beast raced toward
her. The charcoal sky hid some of the hideous features of the giant's deformed
face, but his rage cut through the coolness of the night. Light flashed. As electricity
surged through the air, it revealed the ten-foot club that the creature, ready
to pulverize her and the man lying next to her, held high; from the muscular
features of the giant, Natalie assumed the blow would do no less damage to the
hill crest they stood on. When the creature was only dozens of feet away, the
time had come. She let the arrow slice through the air and take a final place
of rest in its mark. The arrow only penetrated the beast when Natalie began to
fall, as though a hole in the mountain swallowed her up.</span><br />
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<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> “This
may yet be upon you sooner than you think, Natalie Dumar. Your time is coming,”
a familiar voice whispered in her ear. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> Natalie
woke up drenched in sweat. Her hands shook with fright until she realized that
she had again been dreaming. For the last three nights, Natalie endured the
same vision; some nights she even enjoyed it. Each night, she was taken to a
wonderful place. Creatures she had only heard of in fairy tales occupied the
world she entered in her dreams. The land was inundated with adventure and
contained a mystical feel to it. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Each of the three
nights, Natalie did something different while she was in this world, but the
dream always brought her to the same place, and she never remembered how. Every
time, she stood on the same mountain with that man lying next to her. <i>Who is he anyway?</i> Natalie wondered. The
man wore plain clothes and his face lay in the dirt. For all she knew, she was
protecting a poor beggar from his impending doom; she and her bow were the only
force that stood between the man and eternity. That possibility never stopped
Natalie from hoping he was handsome and might fall in love with her.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> The
irony of the situation was laughable. <i>I
hate even running. You couldn’t pay me to work out like I’d need to if I was
going to fight in a battle.</i> Natalie chuckled to herself. She doubted if she
would even be able to figure out how a bow worked. Even more laughable than
that was the small effect an arrow could even have on a beast of that size.
Natalie’s smile turned to a shudder when she thought of the rage in the eyes
that faced her each night. <i>Almost seems
as though his hate could kill me.</i> <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> As
she thought about the monster, Natalie began to fear that her sister had been
killed. The same, unsettling feeling pervaded her thoughts last night as well.
Her older sister scolded her then and told her to go back to bed; tonight,
again, Natalie felt weighed down by the feeling of death coming from her sister's
room. Ever since their mom died, Jessica and Natalie had struggled to survive
with only each other to lean on. Their only memento of their mother was the
necklace she gave them. Try as she might, the urge finally overcame Natalie;
she ran to her sister's room. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> “Jessica!”
Tears forming in her eyes, Natalie shook her sister awake.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> “What
is it?” Jessica, trying to regain consciousness, grumbled. The anxiety in
Natalie's voice mixed with the tears in her eyes jerked Jessica to a fully
alert state. “Have they come?! Hurry! We'll take the hidden path behind the–”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> “No.
. .” Natalie solemnly stopped her sister. “I. . . I just wanted to make sure
you were all right. I was... well, I woke up... “ Natalie's attempt to
forestall her sister's anger accomplished, for her, the opposite effect.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> “You
were dreaming again?” Jessica asked angrily. “I told you not to wake me up
unless it was important. Now go to bed.” Jessica rolled over and pulled the
covers back to her neck.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> Natalie
nodded and studied the face of her sister before walking out of the room and
down the short hallway to her own. The thought of losing her only sister, even
if it was only a dream, left Natalie trembling. Natalie was so lost in her
thoughts that she didn't hear the raining of blows upon the front door at the
bottom of the stairs for several seconds. Natalie looked and saw flashlights
shining through the windows of the downstairs living room. She turned to run
back to her sister's room, but Jessica was already standing behind her. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> “Get
your things and meet me in my room.” Jessica quietly blurted the orders. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> Each
girl ran to her room and grabbed an already packed, lightweight sack of food
and clothes that was prepared for just this occasion. Natalie looked around her
room one last time. This place had been her comfort and protection for the last
five years, and now she would be forcibly removed from it, one way or another.
The misty blue walls gained life by the posters that she had hung everywhere. A
small dresser stood in the far corner of the room. Their dad never cared much
for them, and once he left, their mother couldn't afford much. Natalie joined
Jessica in her room to see that she had already removed a wall panel near the
floor in the corner of the moonlit room. Natalie made a mental image of this
room as well: the auburn carpet and walls which were white, save the far wall
which was grayed from the fire that had burnt in an electrical surge near her
desk. The likelihood of her ever returning to the scene of so many memories died
when she heard the downstairs door begin to crack. A tear fell from her cheek.
Jessica motioned for her sister to get in the opening in the wall. Jessica,
pulling the panel shut behind them, followed her.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> Natalie’s
often-quick tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth. She looked around, into the
dark shaft. After a few minutes, her eyes adapted to the darkness. They both
sat on a ledge behind the wall of the room. Below them was a long, sloping
corridor that she knew led to another fake wall on the ground floor, outside of
the house. Scuffling feet entered the room. The following minutes produced
crashes either of glass or something heavy against one of the walls. Natalie
nearly yelped when something hit the wall where they were hiding. Heavy boots
entered the room.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> “I
can't find it, Sir.” a male voice spoke near the panel the girls hid behind.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> “It
is either here or with those brats, soldier. My wife would not have let
anything happen to it. I doubt the girls even know how to use it. Where are
they anyway?” The angry voice, which boomed through the panel, was the man Natalie
once called “father”. When his voice fell upon her ears, fear swelled to
encompass her mind until she could hear nothing but the pounding of blood in
her head. Two arms gently wrapped up the hurting child. It was a moment before
Natalie realized it was her sister and not mother that held her.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> “I
have no care for what you think you are capable of.” Their father growled. “I
want them found! I don't care if they are dead or alive, just get me that
jewel.” The man stormed out of the room. A rush of footsteps followed.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> Natalie
and Jessica began to descend along the sloping corridor. The passage was dark,
but the panels let in enough light to allow the girl’s eyes to see where they
were going. It was raining outside. Natalie often felt the water beneath her
hands and knees.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> Natalie’s
fear wasn’t without justification. Her father was the provincial governor; he
was a tyrant in the most absolute sense of the word. Jessica and Natlie’s
parents were married fifteen years, eight of which their father spent as a
provincial governor. Until her eleventh birthday, Natalie saw him as a caring
father. Without warning he began tormenting his wife, first vocally and
eventually with brute force. He refused to allow either her or their children
more food than was needed to stay alive. He was re-elected a year later and began
to make almost obscene laws under the guise of helping the province that he
lived in. During this time, he eliminated poverty in a controversial way.
Anyone who was homeless (for a female this meant not married to a man with a
house) became an illegal citizen and subject to execution on sight. However, despite
the silence on the subject, most knew that women were often taken and sexually
abused; the boys were either beaten to death or used for brutal games.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> Soon
after his reelection, Natalie heard an argument between her mother and father
about a pendant. That night, her father left on what he called “business”.
Natalie's mom gave the pendant to Jessica who now wore it in a little pouch
beneath her shirt. The pendant was no more than a silver eagle with garnet
stones for eyes. Neither girl understood the importance of it, but their
mother's last wish was that no one ever gain possession of it, save them. To
the girls it was not something to be fought over; it was their only remnant of
their mother. The years following their father’s departure, Natalie and Jessica
helped their mother build this escape route which exited toward a long tunnel
they dug north of the house. It
contained enough food supplies to last several months; each batch lay in
differing locations along the eight-mile hole. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i><span style="line-height: 150%;"> He was never able to take the
pendant from mother because it belonged to her. </span></i><span style="line-height: 150%;">Natalie
thought with not a little anger. <i>Everybody
called it an accident that mom was mugged and killed on the way home. How
perfect that it would happen the same week he disinherited Jessica and I.</i>
Natalie's blood began to boil at the thought of the man now searching for them.
He was never much of a father to begin with, and because of him, they’d have to
wait in this dark and damp room until night fell before they could move to the
underground passage across the arroyo. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> “Quiet,”
Jessica hissed. Natalie realized she was breathing hard and forced her
breathing to calm.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> Hesitant
footsteps began down the stairs, not far from their hiding location on the
bottom floor. A snarl from the governor rang in their ears; the sound came from
some place near the shaft they sat in. Natalie held her breath instinctively.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> “Where
is my pendant?” <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> “Governor
Jorrigan, it isn’t here. The girls must have it, but they can’t be far. The
beds are still warm from their body heat.” The soldier’s voice, though direct,
quavered as he answered. Royce Jorrigan’s governorship was no longer a simple
position. He had, by all rights, become king of the province.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> “Did
the girls sneak past your men, commander?” their father growled.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> “That’s
impossible, sir. They’re only children, and our men are professionals: the best
of the best.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> “Then
tell me, commander of the best of the best, where are they?” The governor’s
voice bellowed. Natalie imagined the person he called commander standing there and
attempting to hold back his anger and fear like she used to.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> “Logic
dictates in the house, perhaps some kind of hidden room or something. We’ve
found three hidden rooms already, but they were empty. We’ll begin to tear down
the walls at your order, Sir.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> “No
need, commander. Burn down the house. That medallion is a precious metal, the
whole house and anything in it will lay in ashed before that pendant starts to
even bubble from heat. Don’t you agree that the ashes will be easier to search?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> “Sir…
do you—”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> “Be
careful, Soldier,” Royce ordered unwaveringly. “If you question me, it may be
the last thing you do as a commander.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> “Yes,
Sir. I’ll evacuate the premises immediately.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> Natalie
and Jessica grasped one another’s hands in silent horror at the thought of the fire
consuming them. The shouting of voices and the rushing of feet gave the sisters
the distraction they needed. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> “Follow
me, quickly.” Jessica said in a hushed voice. She deftly slid the panel in
front of them to the side to reveal the glaring sun in their eyes. Both girls
squinted at the contrast to the darknessthe sun gave. They did not have the
time to adjust, however; while cursing the risen sun’s unforgiving rays, they
ran as soon as the patrolling guard was out of sight.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> Had
it been night, the girls may have survived, but as they were running into the
arroyo, another guard came around the corner and spotted their sinking heads.
“Stop!” the soldier called. Shout upon shout followed. Natalie’s ears didn’t
concern her, only the yearning in her legs to move faster and in her heart not
to die.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> Jessica
was first to reach the cavern in the side of the arroyo. She reached in and
immediately found what she was looking for. The silver peacemaker in her hand
flashed to eye level then a bullet came flying out of the barrel toward the
first head to show over the edge of the arroyo as Natalie made her way into the
cavern. The soldier tumbled into the arroyo, landing on his neck. Neither girl
waited to see if he was dead or not; they were in the cavern and crawling as
fast as they could.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> Had
Jessica paused for a moment, she might have screamed at the thought of killing
someone. Their mother made sure they knew how to use an array of weapons, but
killing someone had never been on their list of goals. In this moment, however,
Jessica could think of nothing more than her sister’s safety. Adrenaline and
desire won out over morals for the moment.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> The
girls knew it wasn’t over yet, for shouts, coming from the other side of the
arroyo, sounded behind them. It wasn’t long before a volley of shots was heard
from an automatic gun at the entrance of the tunnel. The girls dropped into a
belly-crawl, thankful for the daily exercises their mother made them promise to
do. <i>Why hadn’t we moved out of the house
like mother suggested before she died?</i> Natalie questioned with great intensity.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> Natalie
quivered as a rush of wind passed her ear before a bullet lodged in the rock
next to her. The thought of screaming seemed so appealing, but her mouth
wouldn’t open. Her senses were overwhelmed and her vision faded into a clear
white.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>Thorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12718091563257245519noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2618065498214765358.post-79051483637076499292011-11-03T18:38:00.000-07:002011-11-08T19:10:47.003-08:00How I Spent Halloween<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<b></b><br />
<h3>
<b><span style="color: #38761d; font-family: Arial;">Celebrating
Halloween and the Holidays<o:p></o:p></span></b></h3>
</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">We
celebrated Halloween this last weekend. <o:p></o:p></span>
</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">My
roommates and I had a lot of fun. On Saturday, we spent some time roaming the
Highland Haunt in Denver, and then we went to a birthday party that evening.
The haunt reminded me of an old festival with people on stilts and some a lot
of actors in costumes. Vendors sold food while entertainers performed tricks.
The only thing missing for it to be a medieval festival was someone breathing
fire and a lot of ale. The crowds also had a lot more children than I would
have expected to see at one of those. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">Everyone
celebrated the party with a superhero theme. Dave loves Marvel and DC
characters specifically, so a lot of the decorations involved Spider-man,
Superman, Batman, and so on. It fits really well with the season. Someone had
the great idea to blow up balloons then put them on bottles without tying them.
I should have taken a picture, but it looked really cool. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">I
love this time of year, since we celebrate so much, and the Highland Haunt was a great way to get it started! Some friends of mine and I
get together most holidays. We usually make tacos for Halloween, Turkey for
thanksgiving, and a massive feast for Christmas. Last year we made Beef
Wellington, Yorkshire pudding, taco salad, stuffed olives, and opened a bottle
of aged Brandy. We feast like kings during the holidays. The way we always
figured it was that not everyone enjoys being home for the holidays, so we
celebrate with people we know we will enjoy ^_^<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">These
guys are cool to hang out with since they’re all geeks too. None of us have any
qualms about it. We’re in our 20s and still play video games, roleplays, and
watch old movies together. It’s better to live life with people you’re
connected to than alone.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">My
roommates and I watched <i>Nightmare before
Christmas </i>on Halloween. I love that movie. I remember watching it when I
was younger and singing along to it a lot. For the last few days, the songs
have been stuck in my head. My sister never enjoyed it as much. It was too
macabre for her, but my dad and I watched it every few years.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<b></b><br />
<h3>
<b><span style="color: #38761d; font-family: Arial;">Speaking
about Tim Burton<o:p></o:p></span></b></h3>
</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">Speaking
of which, Did you know <i>Nightmare Before </i>Christmas
began as a poem? I had no idea until we saw it on the DVD last night. Tim
Burton talks about the fact that he got the inspiration for the poem from
seeing a shop change it’s decorations from Halloween to Christmas. The idea
became a poem, and the poem became a movie. Wouldn’t it be amazing to have
something you wrote become a movie like that? I know Tim Burton is famous, but
I definitely think that is one of his more known movies, and it started with
something so simple…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">Have
any of you heard Tim Burton’s poetry? It sounds a lot like Dr. Seus to me. I
think it’s the way he rhymes or the sounds he uses, but it seems like a
children’s story instead of something as grotesque as it basically is. I enjoy
poetry quite a bit, but a lot of times I don’t understand. I think good poetry
needs to be mature in its sounds yet understandable. What good is something
that you can only guess at its meaning?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">I
feel like this post is really random and moves from topic to topic, but there’s
so much to write about. I found this awesome website the other day. The website
is </span><a href="http://dailylit.com/"><span style="font-family: Arial;">http://dailylit.com/</span></a><span style="font-family: Arial;">. Apparently you find a
book that you like (I think it has to be older), then you sign up to receive
emails with exerpts from the book. It only sends a few pages a day, so you
don’t have to read too much. So far it works out perfectly for people like me
who are super busy. I signed up for <i>Dracula</i>
since I have always wanted to read that, but I never have. I’ve seen a lot of
vampire things, but I’ve always been curious as to where it all began. Now I
have the chance to read it!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<b></b><br />
<h3>
<b><span style="color: #38761d; font-family: Arial;">Update on My
Novel<o:p></o:p></span></b></h3>
</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">I
haven’t really decided on any other characters except an old wizard or sorcerer
of some kind. I am almost finished writing the first chapter of the book, and I
will dedicate an entire post to it once I’m finished. I basically decided that
the wizard person gave Natalie the daydream I had as a dream. The dream
represents some future event that will happen to Natalie later on. For now,
he’s using it to get her attention. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">I
started the story with Natalie and her sister responding to their mother’s disappearance
several days after it happened. Their father comes. The necklace their mother
gave to Jenny is a valuable item for some reason. I think it’s from a different
world or maybe from a different plane. He wants it because he knows what it is
capable of, but the girls don’t know what it can do. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">I
learned about using this technique in my college c</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">ourses. It’s called a Chekov’s gun. Here’s the Wikipedia definition, “Chekhov's gun is a literary technique whereby an apparently irrelevant element is introduced early in the story whose significance becomes clear later in the narrative.” As I remember, Chekov’s gun is used to create interest in the reader. It sure makes me excited to use the necklace later. I hope you’re excited to see it once you read my chapter.</span><br />
<div class="p2">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I haven’t decided how the wizard is going to meet Natalie and Jenny since they are in different worlds, but I imagine another world that joins all worlds together called the Netherworld. I stole the name from Norse mythology. (I decided to name the book, at least for now, after the Netherworld since it’s a concept that’s central to where I think the book will go.) The Netherworld contains part of every world, and it’s where people go when they die no matter which world they existed in. I envision a river, like Styx, that they travel along to get to their final resting place.</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Anyway, maybe for some reason the wizard is able to travel through the Netherworld even though he’s not dead, so gets Natalie, or maybe he creates a portal because the Netherworld fuels magic in the other world. I’m not sure yet.</span></div>
<div class="p3">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I’ll post as soon as I have the rest of the chapter done. Thanks for reading!</span></div>
</div>Thorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12718091563257245519noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2618065498214765358.post-14168054753960993612011-10-29T11:37:00.000-07:002011-11-08T19:19:14.386-08:00An Introduction to Our Heroine<div style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-indent: 0in;">
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">At sixteen years of age, Natalie couldn’t help but constantly
dream about other places and times. Her own life boiled over with so many
horrors that any other place would be better. Natalie and her sister, Jenny, lived
with their mother, Felicity in a two-story house left to her in her father’s
will. Society had progressed, or so the schools taught it, to the point where
women were not allowed to own property unless married or living within their
father’s means.</span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">“Slavery,” Natalie called it. When she was younger, she read
about the same treatment of other nationalities. Now that all the countries had
become a single power, Felicity explained, they needed a unifying enemy. Enough
of the countries already considered women inferior; it was a small step for the
rest to agree. There had been uprisings at first, but military law was soon
established to enforce the decrees. The man Natalie had once called father was
among those who established the decree, and she hated him for it. Due to an
allowance in the law for women who already owned property, Felicity retained
rights to the property her father had given her, but it could never pass on to
her children.</span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">Natalie and Jenny spent hours every day digging a tunnel with
their mother in a trench near the house. Felicity explained that they would one
day need it to escape when she was dead. Despite protests to her death, they
dug every day for three years with few exceptions. When the tunnel was finished
with numerous shelters and stashes of food and supplies hidden, the girls
rested.</span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">For a month or two, everything seemed to return to normal for
the girls, aside from the exercises their mother made them do every day.
Natalie sat and read as often as she was allowed, and Jenny went to discussing
the state of the world with their mother. Neither of the girls ventured far
outside the property as their mother did since neither of them had bands that
showed their birthright, and neither of them ever could. From inside the yard,
everything seemed quiet and simple, and the problems of the world seemed
distant.</span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">One day, their mother came home frightened and started giving
orders to the girls. None of them would sleep that night until their bags were
packed and each of them had heard Felicity’s commands for the coming weeks.
When their mother spoke with such authority, neither girl dared argue or speak
until asked to. Felicity gave each of them chores and duties based upon their
strengths. </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">Natalie had always been more adventurous than her sister who
carefully considered every action before doing it. As the eldest, Jenny was
given her mother’s pendant and told specifically to care for it. Her mother
said it was a gift from her great, great grandfather who came upon it
mysteriously. It was the only sign of their lineage and supposedly a gift from
another world, though she didn’t believe that. Jenny was told to make sure
everything was packed and ready to go at any time should anything happen.
Natalie was told to not let Jenny wait or go back for anything. The moment they
sensed trouble or anything happened to their mother, both girls were to leave
and make for the tunnels and collapse the entrance. Their mother promised to
meet them at the far exit from the tunnel several miles away in the woods if
she could.</span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="apple-style-span"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Two days later, Felicity went to the store and never
returned.</span></span></span><i><span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
</div>Thorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12718091563257245519noreply@blogger.com3