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 A story I am writing, Diana Wars.

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EPhear
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PostSubject: A story I am writing, Diana Wars.   Sun May 03, 2009 2:38 pm

A storm settled upon the land, as the sound of running echoed through the trees. A child's screams muffled by the thunder, as a collar of magic grabbed the two running, yanking them to the earth. Laying trembling as the baying of the dogs and the howling of men gone mad, they use the last of their magic to hide the child, the baby born of their blood, from the pursuers. The collars sealed off all attempts to escape, and their mighty prowess was flattened and burned from the future, leaving but a remnant.

The bloody and insane pack of hunters approached their targets in the throes of lunacy. The carnage stains the very earth forever red, as the ripping and gnashing of flesh and bones blossom in a torrent to match the fury of the storm. The wind wails and the baby is silenced, as the last vestiges of his life he might have is changed.

The child wakes to the sound of vomiting as a monk passing by spies upon the scene. The baby cries aloud again. There in the sunlight the visual remained, a mocking of the strength the child's parents once had, splattered red across the carpet of the forest floor. The monk was at a loss for works as his stomach heaved yet again, as he wondered at the child's survival.

As the monk tumbled forward he gazed upon the child's figure. The child was a beautiful healthy baby in his opinion. He unwrapped the child's clothing for a closer look and found a single pendant in the cloth.

“Well, wonders never cease,” the monk stated while suppressing another upheaval of his stomach. The lines on the pendant were ornate, and looked to be the hand of an elf, as the lines curved gently and naturally, beyond the work of most men. Yet the lines were not of vines, nor was the child elven by looks. The lines looked to be an insignia of power and intelligence, and the chain looked as though it was made by men, as the style, while beautifully wrought, matched not the intricacy of the elven craftsman who made the cover. It was entrancing to the monks eyes. In contrast to his own plain brown robes.

“Well, little one, I guess we should get you out of here,” the monk spoke as his sad eyes touched the unnamed child. “Won't my Brothers be surprised to see me carrying a child into the monastery?” The monk chuckled a little to himself. He quickly stopped as he turned around to retch out his stomach again. Wiping his mouth, the monk looked upwards toward the sky with a quick prayer, and looked down at the child.

“I'll get you out of here little one, and hopefully before I empty the remainder of my stomach,” The monk said grimly. The monk set out into the forest, and the baby slept again.
*** *** ***


This is only the beggining though, and it goes through his childhood. I normally do first person too, but. . . the limitations of doing a story in first person with a baby confounded me, so I arrived at this style. Please express how it works. The genre is fantasy by the way.

Reason I was gone, computer came down with viruses, kinda hampered the whole go online ordeal.


Last edited by EPhear on Sun May 03, 2009 2:40 pm; edited 1 time in total (Reason for editing : additional information)
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PostSubject: Re: A story I am writing, Diana Wars.   Sun May 03, 2009 8:29 pm

Reading right now

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PostSubject: Re: A story I am writing, Diana Wars.   Sun May 03, 2009 8:37 pm

A storm settled upon the land, as the sound of running echoed through the trees. A child's screams muffled by the thunder, as a collar of magic grabbed the two running, yanking them to the earth. Laying trembling as the baying of the dogs and the howling of men gone mad, they use the last of their magic to hide the child, the baby born of their blood, from the pursuers. The collars sealed off all attempts to escape, and their mighty prowess was flattened and burned from the future, leaving but a remnant.
Great intro dude. It gives off a firm display of **** hitting the fan and makes me wonder who or why this is happening
The bloody and insane pack of hunters approached their targets in the throes of lunacy. The carnage stains the very earth forever red, as the ripping and gnashing of flesh and bones blossom in a torrent to match the fury of the storm. The wind wails and the baby is silenced, as the last vestiges of his life he might have is changed.

The child wakes to the sound of vomiting as a monk passing by spies upon the scene. The baby cries aloud again. There in the sunlight the visual remained, a mocking of the strength the child's parents once had, splattered red across the carpet of the forest floor. The monk was at a loss for works as his stomach heaved yet again, as he wondered at the child's survival.

As the monk tumbled forward he gazed upon the child's figure. The child was a beautiful healthy baby in his opinion. He unwrapped the child's clothing for a closer look and found a single pendant in the cloth.
Where are they right now? In a village? I am trying to map the setting myself. Did the monk just happen to survive?

“Well, wonders never cease,” the monk stated while suppressing another upheaval of his stomach. The lines on the pendant were ornate, and looked to be the hand of an elf, as the lines curved gently and naturally, beyond the work of most men. Yet the lines were not of vines, nor was the child elven by looks. The lines looked to be an insignia of power and intelligence, and the chain looked as though it was made by men, as the style, while beautifully wrought, matched not the intricacy of the elven craftsman who made the cover. It was entrancing to the monks eyes. In contrast to his own plain brown robes.

“Well, little one, I guess we should get you out of here,” the monk spoke as his sad eyes touched the unnamed child. “Won't my Brothers be surprised to see me carrying a child into the monastery?” The monk chuckled a little to himself. He quickly stopped as he turned around to retch out his stomach again. Wiping his mouth, the monk looked upwards toward the sky with a quick prayer, and looked down at the child.
Why is the monk so ill? Maybe describe that the evaders used some kind of chemical? Great build up so far

“I'll get you out of here little one, and hopefully before I empty the remainder of my stomach,” The monk said grimly. The monk set out into the forest, and the baby slept again.
*** *** ***


I gotta say that your pacing is really well done. Loving it

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PostSubject: Re: A story I am writing, Diana Wars.   Sun May 03, 2009 8:44 pm

The monk is throwing up at the grotesque scenery, and the setting is in a forest, I'll need to work on that. I have something a little bit later that shows the abbey, which will be pretty much were the rest of the chapter is set. I can say that the reason his parents were killed is meant to be a mystery, but will easily be hinted at as it was in this section alone. Suffice it to say, half-breeds take a lot of crap.
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PostSubject: Re: A story I am writing, Diana Wars.   Sun May 03, 2009 8:48 pm

I can picture it turning out like the videogame Fable
I look forward to future entries =)

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PostSubject: Re: A story I am writing, Diana Wars.   Sun May 03, 2009 8:50 pm

it does sound like fable
good enticing story
good job EP
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PostSubject: Re: A story I am writing, Diana Wars.   Sun May 03, 2009 8:52 pm

I can tell you this, the main characters nickname will be dancer because of his fluidity in battle. His best friend, whom he meets at the age of 16 or so, Is named Morgan Constantine, other wise known as The Hammer. And yes, his initials make it M.C. Hammer, and yes, there will be one or two jokes about baggy pants and there effectiveness in battle (read as not) and how it saves Morgan's life.
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PostSubject: Re: A story I am writing, Diana Wars.   Sun May 03, 2009 8:53 pm

ahahaha
Can he touch this?

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PostSubject: Re: A story I am writing, Diana Wars.   Sun May 03, 2009 8:57 pm

With his Hammer, he can. Heads are smashed with his hammer. Is easily one of the strongest humans in the story, easily outlifting the main character without magical help. But then again, he is The Hammer.
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PostSubject: Re: A story I am writing, Diana Wars.   Sun May 03, 2009 9:02 pm

You sir are a man

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PostSubject: Re: A story I am writing, Diana Wars.   Sun May 03, 2009 10:08 pm

That's a good excerpt bro.... I really enjoy immense detail. Is it me or is there A monastery in almost every fantasy story?

"The carnage stains the very earth forever red, as the ripping and gnashing of flesh and bones blossom in a torrent to match the fury of the storm."

Wonderfully written sentence. I don't know why, but that particular sentence seems to define the setting for me. Keep up the good work man, I look forward to reading more. And the story flows super well, I second byd's comment on your pacing. Fantastically done.



Oh, and this may be A good time to tell you all that I'm trashing my story in favor of a new idea I had.... still Norse mythology, but the story should flow a bit better. I hope this new idea is received a bit better.

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PostSubject: Re: A story I am writing, Diana Wars.   Sun May 03, 2009 10:23 pm

The sentence you cite is one that is pretty much a metaphor for the future, so yes, it is very accurate. It's also a sentence that I created pretty much on the fly, like almost all of these. The plot of the story right now only has a few definites, but three characters that are the core of the story. The main character is again, the baby. . . the hardest part is to make what happens shortly after believable. But again, I loved that sentence when I made it, set up the brutality of it all. So far I seem to be using Letum as his true name. . . but. . . yeah. He will mostly be identified as Dancer though when he is older.
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PostSubject: Re: A story I am writing, Diana Wars.   Sun May 03, 2009 10:24 pm

Dude, Seriously, Write us a weekly story EP, that would be so epic
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PostSubject: Re: A story I am writing, Diana Wars.   Sun May 03, 2009 10:25 pm

I can't wait to see how this plays out man!

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