[RangerSG]

Imperial High Mage Tayschrenn, on Jun 26 2009, 02:01 AM, said:

My WIP, just started recently, maybe I just got the prologue finished.

Chronicles of an... unusual empire, part I, Prelude

Ever since the devastating war of the Gods on their world, which still rages on a great many others, the Nim have come into existence. This strongwilled and strongbuild race has overcome the vast arctic nightmare of their own world, which shaped them, and set out through gates and portals of the Ancient Peoples to other worlds to conquer, to trade, to bring justice. And while this may seem arrogant, it answers their ultimate goal, to create an empire where no blood is spilled for naught and even the gods and arisen must bow to justice...

About prelude

Where to leave the most dangerous people the empire has ? One way would be to enlist them and make sure that their punishment will be one with iron discipline, but of course, you can't enlist all. Therefore, the empire sends its most dangerous mages, its greatest murderers and crooks to Aschain, a barren, ashfilled world, under the watchfull eye of the army. A great advantage is that the conflagration of this world, caused by the Gods, has left only one magic realm into existence here, that of Death... Leaving all other kinds of magic closed to all.

Governing a city of criminals is no easy work, so government officials tend to get... missing. So, in "absence" of a suitable replacement among the bureaucrats in the innercity, a young Nim, freshly arrived among others who are deemed to have deserved a prolongued stay on this planet, is drafted in the role of magistrate, for a collection of scumfilled slums...

This sounds really interesting. I wonder what our hero did to deserve such a dignified orifice...er office. It sounds like there would be a good mix of dark humor and wizardly machinations. Very cool.

[T'renn]

The man was manipulated into immolating a city, his mind was controlled by a shaman who used this "Hero's" knowledge and power to shape the air into a lens, harnessing the suns power, and melting the capital of his enemies. The shamans people had allied themselves with the empire, against this enemy, but the empire wanted peace, where the shaman's people wanted to anihilate them. The empire had concluded a treaty, which was then broken.


I read your WIP was about a bit Medieval meets myth ? Would that also mean as in the works of the Grimm Brothers tales ?

This post has been edited by Imperial High Mage Tayschrenn: 26 June 2009 - 02:05 PM

[RangerSG]

Imperial High Mage Tayschrenn, on Jun 26 2009, 08:54 AM, said:

The man was manipulated into immolating a city, his mind was controlled by a shaman who used this "Hero's" knowledge and power to shape the air into a lens, harnessing the suns power, and melting the capital of his enemies. The shamans people had allied themselves with the empire, against this enemy, but the empire wanted peace, where the shaman's people wanted to anihilate them. The empire had concluded a treaty, which was then broken.


I read your WIP was about a bit Medieval meets myth ? Would that also mean as in the works of the Grimm Brothers tales ?

Oh...poor sap. Hehe. I like that.

As for my own. Well, the first book uses the Prague Golem story along with my spin on the Order of the Dragon/Dracul/Dracula story from Stoker (and the Order figures prominently throughout, since the Long War frequently involves Transylvania and the "Seven Fortresses"), along with another necromancer thrown in for spice.

But yes, Grimm Brothers would be viable. The Solomonari of Romanian myth is another one I've got on file for the future. I would tailor things to fit the region the story would take place in. My magic systems (outside of evocation) would be based on Renaissance esoterics. And that would influence what kind of enemies and allies they have too. Secret societies like the Rosencurians would figure for and against. So basically, historical fiction w/ a mythical history that mirrors many of the Renaissance myths.

Perhaps like The Dark Tower in this way in that world darkly mirrors our own. Or more to the point, how the people of that age imagined it. And the mythical creatures act as powers that manipulate some of the human confrontations as well.

[T'renn]

sounds interesting. I myself will be using classic fantasy, (meaning Elves, Dwarves, Dragons) while also going a bit more to SE, a little more dark humor, a little more tragedy, a little more scope, than most of the Tolkien coppiers

[waydoug]

Just uploaded my entry into the story contest. (how's that for a plug?)

I'll give a synopsis here now though.

It's about a young abused girl who was being pimped out by her father for nearly a decade. She ends up killing him, escaping and going to Sarsipnia, the biggest (known) city in the world. After nearly being caught and sold into slavery she escapes on a merchant galley, tossed overboard, washed up into another country (separated by a mountainous region) and finally meets some people who will help her, (though they all get captured again.)

It's also about a gladiator fighting in his final 'freedom' fight who escapes (disappears) ends up on the other side of Sarsipnia, where his gets aboard another ship and heads across the sea to a different country.

Eventually (of course) the two meet and after lots of violence and destruction manage to kill alot people and set the world semi on track again. No happy, peaceful, all is well with the world ending here though...ever.

[Lisheo]

Currently, I'm working on an idea that basically is about an anonymous protagonist who gets caught up in a storm of nihilism, not sure where his life is going, or what he'll do with it, and he can't see a way out.
So, he escapes onto the net, finding himself in the darkest corners of the net, where he joins with like-minded people. They begin attacking websites and so on, just doing it to shut down things they don't like, out of boredome. When a copyright organisation starts buying up websites in order to stop copyright infringement, and at the same time, a corrupt religion manages to be elected into power in a south american country, the group decide to do some good, and take them on. Once they get media attention, more and more people begin to use their moniker to act online, doing the same as them, some acting in their own interests, etc. All the while, the protagonist's life is spiralling out of control, and he begins to retreat deeper into this escapist online world of his, taking on these misanthropic, nihilistic views.
In the end, the massive organisation of disillusioned, nihilistic people basically launch an assault to wipe the net clean of anything they consider unsavoury; which, because of the conflict of interests, will pretty much destroy their world...
Sorry if the summary is a little chaotic; I haven't slept

[RangerSG]

Lisheo, on Jul 1 2009, 01:14 AM, said:

Currently, I'm working on an idea that basically is about an anonymous protagonist who gets caught up in a storm of nihilism, not sure where his life is going, or what he'll do with it, and he can't see a way out.
So, he escapes onto the net, finding himself in the darkest corners of the net, where he joins with like-minded people. They begin attacking websites and so on, just doing it to shut down things they don't like, out of boredome. When a copyright organisation starts buying up websites in order to stop copyright infringement, and at the same time, a corrupt religion manages to be elected into power in a south american country, the group decide to do some good, and take them on. Once they get media attention, more and more people begin to use their moniker to act online, doing the same as them, some acting in their own interests, etc. All the while, the protagonist's life is spiralling out of control, and he begins to retreat deeper into this escapist online world of his, taking on these misanthropic, nihilistic views.
In the end, the massive organisation of disillusioned, nihilistic people basically launch an assault to wipe the net clean of anything they consider unsavoury; which, because of the conflict of interests, will pretty much destroy their world...
Sorry if the summary is a little chaotic; I haven't slept

Well, cyberpunk should be chaotic anyway. And I love a good cyberpunk story. There haven't been a whole lot of them lately. Stephenson went into his crazy genre-bending stuff. And is Gibson still writing? I haven't seen his stuff if he is. So I think that's bringing some life in an aspect of spec-fic that needs it.

This post has been edited by RangerSG: 01 July 2009 - 07:27 PM

[Yellow]

Reminds me a little of the Matrix, but without the King Fu. I would read it

[Fist Gamet]

What's the chances of you guys starting threads on your work (or use this one) and email out some bits for reviews? Ranger, Lisheo, I am looking at you two...

[RangerSG]

Fist Gamet, on Jul 5 2009, 10:42 AM, said:

What's the chances of you guys starting threads on your work (or use this one) and email out some bits for reviews? Ranger, Lisheo, I am looking at you two...

(We need a good "flattered" smilie.) Well, I'm at 17,000 words now (chapter 6, and added some scenes in the earlier chapters). Going at pretty much a 1k per working day clip. I'd like to get a little further before I start looking for reviews. And I'll probably feel more comfortable e-mailing stuff out to people who are really interested rather than posting it for public consumption. I'll be happy to post things here from time to time as far as progress reports go. And I'll launch a blog for the book and other projects and interests of mine in the near future.

So if you are, let me know @ RangerSWG@hotmail.com. I'll be happy to send something in the next week or two. And I'll be happy to use any feedback in the editing process. Thank you again.

[Grimjust Bearegular]

I had a dream I might make a story out of.

It was about a nation at war (of course) and the government conscripting soldiers wherever they can, gender an age not really an issue. A girl, whose father used to be a soldier, is conscripted into the army, and is placed in the Red Guard. She remembers a rhyme her father used to say when she was little:

"Red Guard is Dead Guard, Black Guard Comes Back Guard, Gold Guard Grows Old Guard."

So Red Guard is like Storm soldiers, the ones with black berets with a life expectancy of 17.5 seconds or something in battle. Naturally, she tries to get into one of the other Guards and ends up forming the faction the Red-Golds.

Don't know yet what else happens, cause this was all I got from my dream

[Adjutant Stormy~]

I've been working on a piece that I actually started for the original short-story contest. It ballooned out of control, the plot demanded more exposition, the characters more depth, the action more explosions. I have no Idea what it's eventual length will be (it was intended for the <5000 word range) but it's looking to be in the 100-120 page range eventually.

Completely original fantasy, but obviously drawn from MBOTF and some Glen Cook.

The summary:
The protagonist, Rise, leader of a mercenary band for some two decades, finds himself, and his small army, trapped in the midst of a new-born holy war. It is not his fight, but in matters of faith, the combatants allow no neutral parties. And if it comes down to fight or die, well... at least he's good at it.

[Fist Gamet]

Are you going to let us Malazites read some?

[Adjutant Stormy~]

Fist Gamet, on 10 August 2009 - 05:13 PM, said:

Are you going to let us Malazites read some?

The summer breeze out of the east kept the plague-flies out onthe marsh, clear of the city. The verybreeze that had enabled the pilgrims to travel these deep-rutted, riversideroads for the past two thousand years. TheirBlood Song soared on the breeze, exuberant in the arrival in the holy land. And Rit’s March, equally ancient, welcomedthem in silence. The revelers would danceinto the night, thousands of bonfires across the plain mirroring the stars inthe sky. Barely enough light toilluminate a lone giant of a man crouched atop the gatehouse.

He sat,nearly motionless. His eyes fixed on his massiveunsheathed sword, noting with care each notch, the new wear on thegrip. Most swordsmen would have replacedthe blade long ago, but each flaw and cut rang in his ears with the sounds oftheir battles, their places of birth. A steel memorial. Yet even over the din in his mind, the approachof the softest of footsteps shook him from his reverie, the sword thrusthastily into its scabbard. Hespoke without turning.

“Sob, my brother,they will not weather this storm…”

Sob’s small voice pierced the dark,“From here these pilgrims will be protected by their faith, within the bordersof Sepul, home of their Cult of the Flesh.” But to Rise, their faith matteredlittle; he spat on the cobbles. To him,all the rhythmic chants, all the drums and dancing could hardly beheard over the clink of gold in their purses. After all, each arduous mile they had trekked, each league was money inhis coffers and threat to his men. Andit was a very long, dangerous journey from the inland principalities. They paid well for protection.

It was his job, and he was good atit. “In the past twenty years,” hebegan, “I’ve not lost a single pilgrim, not to summer heatstroke, nor to theraiding fanatics of the All-God. Reputationalone leads the pilgrims in droves to our company. But this…I don’t know…” This trip had not gone well. There had been need of his hired steel, andthen some. And with this last caravan ofthe season, had this been a normal year, he might just have earned enough toretire far away from the strife and fervor of the mainland.

“Rise, you are nobody’ssavior. Get some rest before you die ofexhaustion and deny the All-God the pleasure.” Sob turned and stalked away.

But the fates, it seems, had otherplans. The pilgrimage routes had beencut off. Retoria, in a bold move, hadtaken the northern bank of the River Mer, the ancestral path from the swelteringinland empires to the shrines of the Flesh. They chose to deny the long honored rights of passage, and they hadsought to bar their way. An act of war,and Sepul had responded in kind. Armiesmarched. Rise spat again, war was badfor business. Against the zealots of theAll-God that had clamored to seize the river, Rise’s company had performed their duty. The widows of Zeke, Pots and two hundredothers would all rue the day, but the caravan had held. Theraiders were cowards; once bloodied, they wouldhave nursed their wounds and sought out easier prey.

But when the wagon train had caughtsight of the towering, redstone Yorei plateau, traditionally signaling a mereweek remaining for the tired oxen, the massive caravan was still in fullretreat, tailed by nearly three thousand screaming skirmishers. None had rested. Finally, with over four leagues between thefleeing innocents and the relative safety of Rit’s March, Rise had orderedevery able-bodied man with a weapon to dismount.

Men, of a dozen nations, in theiryouth and twilight years alike, leapt from their wagons, horses, and mules withweapons bared, to almost certain death. Theyhad lashed their heat-crazed steeds to the wagons, to, along with theirfroth-mouthed oxen, pull the wagons to safety. They had trusted Rise for a thousand miles, and they would trust himhere. The desperate rabble formed up, companysergeants screaming orders, and a bulging crescent emerged, and nearly ninehundred professionals stood their ground with again as many fathers, brothers,sons, chiefs, paupers, and priests. Thethunder of hooves, clash of shields, and a haunting wail of bloodlust shaking soldierand husband alike, the human wave of zealots had exploded thunderously onto thecompany, the fury on each face mitigated by sheer surprise. Spears, knives, hammers, and swords clashed, andwhile the undisciplined fanatics of the All-God found the blood they sofervently sought; the women and children of the caravan, Rise’s swornresponsibility, made good their escape. In the end, luck, and the battalion of cavalry dispatched from Rit’sMarch, had gotten them through the gates.

It was a bad beginning to aterrible war.

[Aptorian]

I had to reread a part of that because I thought the Pilgrims and the fanatics were the same people at first.

So, the All-gods fanatics are like muslims occupying Jerusalem and the Pilgrims are like Christians? Or am I getting it wrong.

Out of curiosity, does the All-god really exist? Or are you writing one of those fantasy setting where there's mention of gods but you never see or hear of them?

[Fist Gamet]

That strikes me as a pretty good opening to a story. I think I would be expecting to read about Rise's Company from here in on. There was a neat balance of information as I read enough to get the picture but I wasn't weighed down by details. Although, to contradict myself, the fact that he had not lost a single pilgrim and some of the details of this last journey might work better revealed in dialogue. Worth thinking about.
Oh yeah, and if he has not lost a single pilgrim then this is just amazing...in which case "it was his job and he was good at it" becomes redundant and smacks off dumbing down. Remember, as the writer, it is your job to NOT tell us everything.

I get what you are trying to do with the opening three sentences but you might want to reconsider using "breeze" three times, and the second sentence on its own makes no sense the way it is written. Also, why would a mere breeze allow the pilgrims to travel? Not sure if the link to the plague-flies is clear - do they really carry the plague or is this an indication of how annoying they are?

[councilor]

i'm working on a little something that i dug up from when i used to write half pages and leave them lying around. I've begun expanding it and really fleshing it out and has hit five thousand words and no idea where it's going. much of it has turned into a sort of world building exercise before i realised what was happening, but here is a basic premise

in the distant past, the totality of existence was separated and section into various planes by the deep ones, the immortal grand children of creation

currently, the world consists of ours and a number of other almost satellite planes that surround us, separated from us and each other by the veil of worlds. ours is by far the biggest, extending out to space as we all now, and the envy of the satellite planes. tens of thousand year ago, the other worlds discovered a weakening of the veil and came to earth, discovering that they were not the only ones.

there was war between the faction and each battle for control of this world, one that was on the verge of tearing it apart when the leader of each faction on earth came together and signed a compact. they carved up the world between them and prevent any more of their kind on the old worlds from coming in.

thus the factions of the phage, shifter, magi death lord, demons, elves and fair ones were created, each holding dominion over a part of earth, hidden from humanity as they could not match humanities numbers. the border guards, the original motley collection of outcasts and criminals from the faction that were instrumental in defeating the old worlds were given the duty of keeping the compact ad peace between the factions.

as time passed, the invaders become more human through breeding and settled into a more or less comfortable peace.

cut to today.

Kenneth is a successful business man, but a dying one. in the final stages of brain cancer, he resolved to end his life on his terms of lying like vegetable on a bed, choosing to throw himself off a cliff and into the sea. just before death, he is made an offer to become an adjudicator - one of four powerful being who is tasked with keeping the peace with everything one earth.

ten years on, he is drawn into a new doomed attempt at a new treaty before things quickly spin out of control, for one even of his powers. the signs indicate something major was happening between the balance of worlds, leaving everyone scrambling to find what the hell is going on and to take advantage of the situation.

opinions?

[Adjutant Stormy~]

I just found the updated copy of my story, and yeah, I've been rewriting the first part a great deal.

[WhiskeyJackDaniels]

Hey, sweet thread I just found it. I've just been fooling around writing some notes when I should be paying attention in class for the past couple weeks. I think my idea might be different from most people her though, cuz I thought of a story first, and I've been trying to build a world around it since. Is that how most people around here do it? Or do you come up with a world and characters and then develop storylines?

[Silencer]

Well, as soon as I'm done with my exams (two days, yay!), I've got a raft of projects involving writing to do. So I figure I'll list them here, and give a brief explanation:

The Fall of the Talon.
A shortish story relating to the time when the Talon's figure out the Claw is killing them off. I'm doing this as the basis for the plot of the Malazan Project's demo, and already have the basics fleshed out. Think Night of Knives, but on a smaller, more mundane scale, and with less famous personalities - though Ameron and perhaps Possum may show up. It's going to be tight, but should be fun, nonetheless.

And...damn...now I'm out of time. Stupid exams. Will fill in the rest later. XD