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Post by Kaez on Sept 3, 2016 3:57:51 GMT -5
Constraint: The following must be the beginning to your story, verbatim: As they sailed closer to the edge of the world, Lendl found it harder to make tea. Either a wild wave struck the ship as he was about to pour or it waited until the drink was brewing, sending it all over his desk. He learnt never to keep his papers nearby. Today, though, the waters were smoother and the tea tasted exquisite. It calmed his stomach and gently went to work at repairing his fraying nerves.
There was a knock at his cabin door. “Sir, you awake, sir? We've arrived at the Edge, sir.”
Lendl drained the last of his tea and picked up his staff leaning against the desk. It felt warm against his hand. The door swung open and the cabin boy stood like a statue right in front of him. “Run along now,” Lendl said and the child couldn't have moved quicker.
The sun was high in the sky, blue sky stretching uninterrupted to the horizon. The view was perfect and the ship glided across the ocean, the wind gently pushing at its sail. Above them all, the Edge towered. Craggy and rocky, the cliff climbed a thousand metres into the air. Lendl spied a Roc high in the sky and he wondered how many nested at the end of the world. The staff in his hand grew hotter.
“Captain,” Lendl called out, not bothering to look back at the wheel. “Take us closer to the Edge.” |
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Sensar
Author
Homonecropedopheliac and Legal Property of AWR
Posts: 6,898
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Post by Sensar on Sept 9, 2016 1:41:00 GMT -5
Into the Wind As they sailed closer to the edge of the world, Lendl found it harder to make tea. Either a wild wave struck the ship as he was about to pour or it waited until the drink was brewing, sending it all over his desk. He learnt never to keep his papers nearby. Today, though, the waters were smoother and the tea tasted exquisite. It calmed his stomach and gently went to work at repairing his fraying nerves.
There was a knock at his cabin door. “Sir, you awake, sir? We've arrived at the Edge, sir.”
Lendl drained the last of his tea and picked up his staff leaning against the desk. It felt warm against his hand. The door swung open and the cabin boy stood like a statue right in front of him. “Run along now,” Lendl said and the child couldn't have moved quicker.
The sun was high in the sky, blue sky stretching uninterrupted to the horizon. The view was perfect and the ship glided across the ocean, the wind gently pushing at its sail. Above them all, the Edge towered. Craggy and rocky, the cliff climbed a thousand metres into the air. Lendl spied a Roc high in the sky and he wondered how many nested at the end of the world. The staff in his hand grew hotter.
“Captain,” Lendl called out, not bothering to look back at the wheel. “Take us closer to the Edge.”
The crew around him was only half-paying attention to their work. Men kept one eye on knots and another on the looming black mass. Even professional sailors couldn’t help but stop and stare at the Edge. There was not a single surviving log-book that did not drag on and on about how breathtaking it was.
The expanse had been visible for almost four days. At first, it had simply been a charcoal smudge along the horizon. Now it ate the world in front of them, the wall of some titan’s castle, stretching far into the distance on either side. It left every man on board in quiet awe. Even the ship, with it’s usual unending creaking of wood, flapping of cloth, and straining of ropes seemed to hold it’s breath with the crew. A low, ominous rumbling was beginning to fill the air.
“Aye, my lord!” came the returning shout from the captain. “We will be encountering waves soon! Are your preparations done?”
Lendl ran his thumb over the head of his staff, tracing the wood grain. The building heat pulsed like a heart, countering his own. He felt a tugging upwards at his lips as he tried to contain his growing excitement.
“They are,” Lendl declared, “Forward, Captain. I will see us safely at the Edge before evening.”
He did not bother to pay attention to the crew’s reaction, or the flurry of activity that followed. He could knew what it would be: a mixed reaction of fear, awe, and suspicion. Distrust of power is no new phenomenon. As Lendl saw it, the need to maintain morale and loyalty belonged to the captain. Lendl had larger concerns.
Of the of sailors to have braved storms, battles, and beasts to make it to the Edge, only several hundred had ever dared cross the Calm Belt that lay before the Edge’s cliff-face. The unceasing pounding of currents and waves against the hard black rock made it a nightmare for ships to get anywhere close without the aid of some powerful magic-user or an exceptionally lucky navigator. And what was there to gain other than bragging rights and a thousand metre climb?
In all the hundreds of years of history, only a few souls on those few ships had ever tried to make that climb, amidst unending salt spray and beating sun. Several had claimed they had seen men make it to the top, although none of them had ever returned. Captain Ferris’ crew had famously braved the trip for an entire week waiting for their mates to descend and tell them what they found. Such glory-hungry idiots were food for Rocs, spat captains at tavern tables. Or, more likely, they passed out and died from a lack of breath at such high altitudes, claimed experienced mountaineers. No, extolled priests and old women, they were struck down for trespassing on the realm of gods.
The tugging on Lendl’s lips only pulled harder as his heart beat faster. After years of nothing but pouring over ancient logbooks and texts, flattering drunk sailors, and begging money from idiots, he would finally have the chance to make his mark on history. It was as simple as coming back. Just that simple.
He reached the prow and clutched at the banister as the deck lurched under his feet. Already the waves were rougher, the incessant roaring becoming louder. He could begin to make it out now, an unending spray of foam against the stone canvas.
As the ship struggled over the growing swells, and Lendl began to regret his choice of position no matter how dramatically appropriate it had felt. One particularly large wave smacked the prow and gave him a face full of stinging seawater. He stumbled back, before catching the banister again. Behind him, the sailors continued to scurry, attending to their creaking lines.
The staff beat at him with it’s warmth, driving away the shocking cold of the ocean water. His grin grew wider; he couldn’t help himself. What other feeling could there be when you were cradling this much power? He had to hold on until the last possible moment.
Another wave rocked the ship, this time smacking along the side as the prow bucked and turned. Spray turned to rain and pelted the deck. Lendl grin was jolted right of his face, and his anxiety began to eat at him. This is stupid, he knew. He had to preserve his strength for the climb; he could hardly be wasting valuable energy attempting to play the storybook hero. But something kept him here. His excitement and nerves were rattling all around his body in a way he hadn’t experienced in years, his fingers felt that they could burst into flame.
Lendl looked back at the ship behind him. Two men were wrestling with the wheel now; the captain was amongst the men shouting furiously. Most of the crew was wrangling ropes; attempting to keep the ship on track despite the efforts of the rolling waves to turn it away from the Edge.
Lendl faced forward again. The Edge was eating the sky now, and the air was darkening around them. The roaring of water against rock was eating up all the sound from the rest of the ship. The spray grew closer, the waves bigger. The staff hummed with a merry heat. They were almost there.
Suddenly, a hand clasped his shoulder. Lendl started and almost lost his footing. The pressure on his shoulder never faltered. Lendl looked back to the see the captain, dripping with seawater and looking furious, yelling something through the din. Another giant wave smashed over the side of the ship. Lendl was thrown against the bannister and lost all his breath. This was it. Luck was not on their side today. The ship was beginning a shuddering turn, in spite of the crew’s best efforts, and the waves were lapping hungrily at its side, eager to drag it under. He nodded, and shook the captain’s hand off his shoulder as he wrestled himself up.
With a sharp intake of breath, he raised the staff over his knee and broke it.
The thick wood snapped like a twig. Several splinters embedded themselves in his thigh. Others went spiraling off into the water. More tumbled onto the deck.
A moment later, everything went silent, and still.
Lendl tried to relax and breathe as his body lurched forward, but the dizziness still hit him like a battering ram. He fell to his knees, gasping, as ears rang and his stomach churned. Bile clambered at his throat, itching to break free.
The sailors behind him didn’t fare well either. Sea legs couldn’t account for magic. Veterans experienced the shame of retching for the first time in decades. Lendl counted a small blessing that the captain had managed to prove his rank and not douse him. He slowly counted to twenty and stood.
Waves raged in a silent dance five feet from the ship, sending white foam spraying against a shimmering wall of distorted air. The captain, still gasping a little, pushed himself to his feet beside Lendl. He stared at the raging sea beyond the barrier. “God’s-blood. Unbelievable.”
Lendl ran his fingers through his salt-soaked hair and spat out a bit of sour phlegm. “Get your men back up; inspect the ship and have the boy prepare my things. I need to check the lodestone.”
All the magic was secure, and his things were ready. The barrier’s lodestone was unharmed from the journey. A day, he had told the captain. The ship had an entire day to sit and wait for him without any worry for it’s safety.
The ship had managed to get within a hundred metres of the Edge. That was enough for Lendl. He stood in the crow’s nest, adjusting the pack strapped to his back. He grasped a climber’s pick in his right hand, and clasped the Edgestone in his left. Now, it was truly do or die.
He raised the Edgestone in front of him, and breathed deeply. As the magic took hold, he suddenly felt the heat in it, burning hot. It was so close to home. He took another breath and then pressed. It shattered under his palm, and the sound of waves nearly deafened him.
With the ship underneath him gone, he began to plummet through the air. Frantically, his right hand raised and swung the pick forward. The enchanted metal slid into the rock of the Edge like butter, tearing a gash of several feet before it manage to catch with a should-bruising jolt. Below him water hissed and roared. Pellets of salt water buffeted at his boots. His left hand, still stinging from the released magic, fumbled at his belt and grasped his second pick. Up it swung, and sank into the rock.
The Edgestone had been Ferris’ pride and joy. A piece of the Edge thrown to Ferris by his first mate as they began the climb. When Lendl had stumbled onto the account, he knew it would be the key to his ascent. A guaranteed teleportation from above the water level. A location that could be navigated to from Ferris’ log.
His boots dug loosely at the wet rock, but there was virtually nothing to be found for purchase. Not until he could get higher. He kicked and the metal tips sunk in. It was enough. Up went the right pick. Then the left. The right foot. The left. The right pick. The left.
Lendl’s boots felt dry rock beneath them. His arms burned with strain. A little while more, he thought, scanning the rocks around him. Here, the glistening blackness of the base was bleached into a dark grey. The stone looked melted, as if paint had run down the cliff-face.
But it was everywhere, and unending. Though the spray and sound had lessened, the sun was beginning to beat against him. Out in the distance of the water he could see the ship, unnaturally still in a strange whirlpool of water. He wondered vaguely if the crew could pick him against the expanse of the cliff.
He found one, if only by chance. A little indent in the rock, a much needed chance to sit. Lendl glanced around the interior and thanked the gods that it was too shallow for a Roc or any other great bird to nest in. He fumbled at his pack and retrieved his water pouch, surveying the world below him. Far below, he could a strange whirlpool amidst the waves and felt a tinge or pride.
With the aid of his enchanted gear, he had managed to climb at a fairly quick pace, but even his previous tries on castle walls had not prepared him for this marathon. He drank and shook his arms, leaning back against the porous rock. Just a little rest before the next stretch. I can do it, he told himself. I’ve made it this far.
I can do it, Lendl told himself, as the crystal shattered in his teeth. Warmth flooded him and the aches fell away. His flagging climbing picked up with renewed vigor. The sounds of waves began to grow more and more distant. The sun beat at the back his neck. He thought of his staff.
Down went another crystal. Left hand, right foot, left foot, right hand, left hand. My body is easier to trick than my mind, Lendl thought. No matter the energy, this is just mind-numbing.
Left, right, left, right, left, right, left, right,
Right, left, right, left,
Gods, this boring.
Left, right, right, left, it was getting much colder. Breathing was getting harder.
Right, left, right, left, crunch. Crunch? Lendl looked up as something speckled his face. Ice. Encrusting the very top of the cliff with white.
Adrenaline surged through his veins. He brought up the pick and smacked at the top once more. He a heave, he pulled himself over, rolling along the icy surface. He lay there for a moment, breathing heavily, his breath releasing in a great misty cloud that floated into the air and disappeared. The sky above him was blue and empty. The sound of the great pounding below had lessened almost to nothing. It was replaced with a new stream of sound—the wind blew all around him, catching at loose bits of cloth, snagging his hair. He began to worry about standing; would he get blown over the edge?
He rolled onto his belly and pulled himself onto his hands and knees. The wind, eager to greet him, rushed forward. Through squinted eyes he could see the ground around him—covered in snow, with ice glistening in the sun, stretching out. Without any distinguishing features he began to feel disoriented. He had to get away from the edge and brave the wind. But which way led away now? He twisted his head back and forth. When the back of his head lay between his eyes and the stinging gale, he blinked furiously. He could see it, a far in the distance, where two blues met. The curve of the Edge that encircled the world. His course was set. Into the wind, then.
Lendl crawled into the wind, not yet trusting himself to stand. He gritted his teeth. He was finally here. A life-long dream that he couldn’t even stand to meet.
After about minute, Lendl stopped and frowned. He was climbing down, wasn’t he? He could feel it. It had been non-existent at first, but he could feel it now. He was angling downward, surely.
He forced himself upward and placed a hand over his eyes. His feet stuttered back on some ice, but the slope caught him. Through the stinging wind, he blinked furiously.
What?
Far, far below, at the base of the mountain, was a forest. |
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Post by J.O.N ((Dragonwing)) on Sept 9, 2016 2:08:15 GMT -5
End of Things As they sailed closer to the edge of the world, Lendl found it harder to make tea. Either a wild wave struck the ship as he was about to pour or it waited until the drink was brewing, sending it all over his desk. He learnt never to keep his papers nearby. Today, though, the waters were smoother and the tea tasted exquisite. It calmed his stomach and gently went to work at repairing his fraying nerves.
There was a knock at his cabin door. “Sir, you awake, sir? We've arrived at the Edge, sir.”
Lendl drained the last of his tea and picked up his staff leaning against the desk. It felt warm against his hand. The door swung open and the cabin boy stood like a statue right in front of him. “Run along now,” Lendl said and the child couldn't have moved quicker.
The sun was high in the sky, blue sky stretching uninterrupted to the horizon. The view was perfect and the ship glided across the ocean, the wind gently pushing at its sail. Above them all, the Edge towered. Craggy and rocky, the cliff climbed a thousand metres into the air. Lendl spied a Roc high in the sky and he wondered how many nested at the end of the world. The staff in his hand grew hotter.
“Captain,” Lendl called out, not bothering to look back at the wheel. “Take us closer to the Edge.”
There was a loud bellow from behind him and the crew of the ship were roused from their captivation. Everyone, no matter where they were born, had grown up in the shadow of the wall that surrounded their world. Very few had ever dared to approach it and the sight they were blessed with was one only a few individuals were graced with.
Sailors shouted to one another quickly pulling at ropes, scaling rigging and setting sails. Others seemed to be dashing between the upper deck and the one below. The crew of the Hecate had been preparing for this moment ever since they had set out. Their captain, the illustrious Jan Fedrickson, had a fierce reputation for demanding the best out of his men.
“Magister.”
The gruff voice, thick with its northern accent roused Lendl from his enamour with the Edge.
Turning to look behind him he saw the captain approaching. Heavyset with wide shoulders and towering over most men, the captain seemed a giant. His red beard hung from his face like a forest untamed. Gone was the formal clothes he wore as an officer of the imperial navy, instead he looked hardly different from his men with a white shirt and baggy linen pants. He had made sure to wear his sabre and pistol on his belt.
“Captain, I must commend you on making the impossible a reality” Lendl lauded, beaming a bright smile and gesturing to the massive rock face.
“Not there yet” Jan rebuked. He eyed Lendl's attire. Dressed in the same formal outfit of a Magister. A dark purple and gold vest and dress pants, seemingly unsuitable for any physical activity.
“I hope you are aware of what this expedition of yours will require.”
Lendl just laughed.
“I can assure you Captain, like any good sorcerer there is more than meets the eye here. Now, I expect we will be going ashore soon?”
Jan eyed him before stepping past.
All along the shores of the Edge were razor sharp teeth that jutted out of the sea. Some were rocks, like any shoreline along a cliff, however many were also strange black crystalline obtrusion's that shone like glass in the sun. Any ship foolhardy to approach without taking care would be cut to ribbons in the swell surrounding the daggers.
Lendl waved dismissively.
“Ah, yes a problem. But surely not a big one for the man who guided us through the tempests?”
He was referring to the maelstroms that regularly circled the seas close to the Edge, There were very few navigators who would brave the storms, and fewer still that succeeded in crossing past them.
“Aye, as long as your notes are correct about that gap.”
Lendl chuckled.
“Hell of a time to start doubting me.”
Jan eyed him one last time, his eyes bright green against Lendl's black.
He shrugged and turned away, immediately roaring orders to the sailors, his voice loud enough to crack the air. Lendl smoothed his well groomed black beard, a nervous tick of his. He gave one last glance up towards to the top of the Edge, and shivered in excitement.
The whaleboat rode the waves between the pillars of crystal and stone, its expert oarsman keeping it from being smashed against the rocky shore. With Lendl's advice the crew had managed to find the elusive passage through the ship breaking teeth. It was too small for the Hecate though and the captain had called for the men to start heading ashore on the boats. Already only a skeleton crew remained on the ship.
Sitting hunched up close to the prow of the boat, Lendl gripped his staff until his knuckles went white. He did not fear the swell of the surf, or the prospect of being smashed against the rocks. It was excitement, pure barely restrained desire. He was so close to his magnum opus. The very reason he existed.
Lendl couldn't even wait for the boat to reach the shore.
As the boats hull scraped on stones, he half dove and half fell from the boats side, sending it perilously rocking and leaving the crew to swear and fight to maintain its balance. The foam of the surf threatened to drown him as he dragged himself through the water and onto dry land. He didn't even stop for breath before launching to his feet. Running up the stony beach he spun and yelled, his voice ecstatic.
He had done it. Entire nations had stood in his way, but in the end he had done it. The hours he had waited to come ashore had been agony to him.
“Captain! Welcome to the Edge!”
The stones under his feet, the sea breeze, cold but refreshing. And the gentle warmth of the sun. It was all perfect. All there was to do now as to scale the wall to its top.
“Blue sails!”
Two words that scattered any emotions of exhilaration from Lendl. He glanced over to the crewman that shouted and saw the man pointing to a gap in the rocks. It was hard to see against the sky, but a ship was approaching fast. Similar to the Hecate but its sails were the deep blue of the Imperial navy.
“Too arms men, send the signal for the Hecate to weigh anchor!” Jan bellowed, already rallying his men.
Lendl hurried to his side.
“Can the Hecate keep them at bay?” His question more a plea.
“Nay, they would be overrun in moments, better they try and flee and hope the Imperials come straight for us. We can give them a better fight” the last words were given with a viscous growl.
“I can assure you, if you can get me to the gateway, none of this will matter any more.”
Jan, glanced at Lendl, eyes burning with inner fire.
“You are not the only one who is ready to see this journey's end. You will make it too the top no matter what.”
Lendl's grin returned.
With a new fire, Jan had his man abandon the heavier supplies they had brought, instead they immediately set out towards the cliff face. It was almost impossible to see from the ship, but as they had landed on the beach, a cave entrance had made itself visible to them. With Lendl at their head, the group of men entered the wall.
Darkness crept in around them, and a few of the man lit torches made from pitch. The meagre glow they gave off did nothing to cut through the dark. It was as if it had blanketed itself on them and Lendl could feel icy hands begin to tug and grip at his clothing. The fervent whispers of the sailors suggested they to could feel the same light touches.
Not yet, he hissed to himself, ignoring the hands.
It did not take long after entering the cave for it to widen out dramatically. The walls around them seemed to vanish and their footsteps echoed off far cavern walls. Lendl stopped and a few of the men swore as they bumped into him and each other.
“What is it Magister?” The harsh whisper of Jan pierced the darkness.
“Enough of this bumbling, we are here. Close your eyes for a second.”
Not bothering to wait and check if the others had followed his command. He lifted his free hand, focusing for a few seconds and whispering in some arcane language. There was a crackle and spark in the space above his palm before it exploded into a sphere of bright white light. Dropping his hand away, the orb quickly floated up and out into the empty space of the cavern.
It shone with such brilliance that the oppressive darkness was quickly banished, forced to hide in shadows. A few of the men yelled in surprise and pain, but the ones that had closed their eyes were able to slowly open them, and adjust. A collective gasp ran through the group.
They found themselves standing on a great bridge that spanned a huge ravine below them. Hewed from the stone, the bridge was like a stonemasons dedication to the gods. On both ends massive statues taller than any building held up the bridge with outstretched hands. One was a woman dressed in a gown, the other a crowned man in ancient armour.
Beyond the bridge was a city. Buildings carved into the stone with roads the criss crossed the cavern walls. Plateaus has been created to build large squares where long dried out fountains stood, or more statutes of long dead kings. A kingdom had once been housed within the edge of the world.
“Gias Oath!”
Jan swore, stepping up to Lendl's side, his eyes wide in astonishment. Lendl could only grin and shake with excitement. In his hand his staff was hot enough to hurt, its runes beginning to glow.
“The Imperials will be upon us soon, we have to hurry.”
Jan was shaken from his revere and he grunted in agreement. Setting a pace the awestruck sailors struggled to keep up with, Lendl strode across the bridge and into the streets.
He had one destination in mind. It had taken him decades to collect the scraps of legends and myths about the Edge and in the quest he had stumbled across the mad ravings of a sailor that claimed he had made it to the Edge centuries prior. One of his stories was of a grand city that held within it a gateway that led to the “top of the world”.
It didn't take him long to find it. Amongst the grey stone buildings of the forgotten city, the plaza gilded in gold with thousands of rare gems embedded like cobblestones stood out. He had Jan order his men to stay back. He did not need anyone to try and steal a diamond or two.
Stepping into the courtyard, his staff began to hum and burn. Willing his hand to endure the heat, he managed to keep a hold of it as he made it further into the centre. Before he could activate the spell surrounding the courtyard he heard Jan yelling his name. Looking back he saw the giant pointing back from where they had came.
Looking out towards the bridge, he saw that his orb had revealed their pursuers. How they had so quickly closed the gap confounded Lendl and he almost slammed the staff in rage.
Striding back to Jan, his face was twisted in anger.
“Isabella! I thought we had left her at Mariansport for dead.”
“Aye, she is a tough one...”
Lendl looked towards where the woman called Isabella stood. Resplendent in white and gold plate, her blue cape seemed to gently flutter in a wind that was not there. She held her bastard sword in her right hand, her left gesturing to her companions. A man dressed like Lendl in the outfit of a Magister, and another, who wore a green cloak and held a large war bow.
“Lendl.”
The softness of the captains voice surprised Lendl and for a moment confusion replaced his anger.
“You promise to finish this right? You promise to uphold your end of the bargain and bring her back?”
Lendl just nodded.
“We will hold them and buy you time. Go and make sure you finish this.”
Turning to his men he thrust his sabre in the air and was met with shouts of defiance from the crew.
“The Imperials think they can stop us now, on the cusp of our victory! Let us show them the true spirit of the sons of the Hecate!”
Lendl watched them march back through the streets. This time with their weapons ready and already singing a chanty to rouse their spirits. He knew it was likely that they would be slaughtered, Jan and all his crew didn't stand a chance against the knights, but they didn't have to. Once Lendl made it to the top of the world, he could end everything.
Stepping back into the courtyard, he felt the worries wash away and focused solely on the esoteric forces that weaved their way around him. Like the hands in the dark, he once more felt fingers grip and pull at him, this time they seemed to lighten him and lift him from the earth. Crackling lightning around him stripped away his senses, the last one to go was his sight. It showed the crew of Hecate meeting the three knights on the bridge.
Then there was just blackness.
It was the cold caress of a light breeze that roused Lendl. At first he struggled against it, trying to find his bedsheets to pull over him. As his hand clutched at the snow he awoke with a start. Sitting up in the snow drift he felt his heart pause for a moment. Far above the clouds below, he could see out across all of existence. Great continents and oceans looked as they did on a map. Above them hung the stars, as if within hands reach.
“I made it...”
He felt he should be dancing through the snow, laughing and giggling like a child. But as if automated, his body picked up the staff, now shining purple and gold. The heat of it wasn't affecting the snow, but it banished the cold from his body. Looking around he saw an altar on a ridge above him. It was simple stone plinth that sat on a dais strangely absent of ice.
Pushing through the snow, he made his way up the path cut into the side of the Edge. It wasn't far to the altar, but the path was perilous. Only a few feet to his right side was drop that no one could survive. The wind tugged and pushed at him, as if the sky itself was trying to stop his ascent. Ignoring it and using the staff to steady himself he continued on.
A screech was the only warning he got before claws dove down at him and slashed at his body. Raising the staff in defence he fell back against the cliff. A roc had discovered him. His voice screamed out a command and the air burst into flames. The great bird screeched once more. The flames seared its face and burnt its feathers. Driven off, the roc disappered beneath the ledge.
He took a moment to get his breadth back before getting back up.
approached the altar and he stared. Everything he had done, every sacrifice made. It had all cumulated to this moment.
Stepping onto the dais he grinned, eyes wide and the air around him electrified with energy. No longer will the other Magisters laugh at him, nor will the Empress dismiss him as a raving lunatic.
He will prove them not only wrong, but surpass them as a legend.
To be told that no mortal should defy the gods. That after conquering the world, humanity should just hide behind the wall that kept them safe from the universe outside. It all disgusted him. It was the duty of men to challenge their makers and hold entirety of reality in their palm.
Behind him him he heard the strike of lightning. Turning to look back he saw the same spot he had awoken was smoking and steaming. Already rising from the snow was the unmistakeable long black hair and golden armour of Isabella.
Blood soaked her.
Gone was the striking blue cape. Just a tattered and blood drenched rag hung from her shoulders. Her armour was dented and scratched, it was more red than white now. She clutched at her side a grievous wound. Looking up at him, her red eyes, wild hair with gore dripping from it and snarled mouth completed a picture of a beast.
“Isabella! I have to congratulate you on making it this far. From the looks of things though, it seems Jan and his men exceeded my expectations.”
He noted her bloody sword and gave a sad smile.
“Captain Federickson faired worse than you I suspect.” Lendl noted he had promised to help the captain meet his wife, one way or another.
She ignored him and instead began to trudge towards him, limping.
“By the Voice of the Empress, and in the name of the Imperial Senate. I, Lady Frontera, demand you stand down and submit to the authority of the Empire!”
Lendl, watched and pitied the knight as she gave her speech and struggled to make the few metres to the base of the dais. The woman who had hounded him across nations and oceans; almost killing him on numerous occasions. Now she could barely walk.
“Let us end this Isabella. I must admit, of all the opponents I hoped would see my triumph, I am glad it was you.”
As he placed the staff on the altar, he barely heard Isabella's final plea.
“Lendl, don't... please”
The crack would be heard for centuries, reverberating from the walls of reality.
Stone, old as time itself shattered and burst; turned to dust or left to fall down into the sea far below. Isabella attempted to charge Lendl, sword ready to strike, but the earthquake forced both them to their knees. The air rapidly dissipated and it became almost impossible to breath. The oceans beneath the edge seemed to boil and rose, the falling chunks of the wall causing huge waves that rapidly crossed the sea and smashed against the coasts of the continents.
A howling began to rise and Lendl looked up and saw darkness begin to claim the sky. Stars blinking out of existence. Already parts of the wall had given way to the black shadows on the other side. Great waterfalls of ebony pouring in to the mortal realm. He had done it. He had stripped away the barrier between the living and the dead.
“You idiot!”
Isabella had managed to stand once more, even as the Edge crumbled around them. Launching herself at him, she thrust the sword through his chest.
“It's too late,” he whispered in to her ear. Already feeling the shadowy hands descend around them.
“I've won.” |
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Post by James on Sept 12, 2016 17:25:23 GMT -5
Sensar
Good to see writing you again, Sensar! And this certainly wasn’t a bad story for you to jump back into AWR’s writing side of things.
What I really loved about this story was the motivation of Lendl. This wasn’t some ‘we need to do this to save the world’ type story. Lendl wanted to do something that no one else has ever done before. You were giving us a conquering Everest story set on an even more epic scale and I loved that.
Which made it all the more disappointing that the actual climbing was lacklustre. I could see what you were going for, highlighting how boring it was. But why make it boring!? This story had a lot to say on the love of adventure: an exciting start, killer bit of magic to tackle the waves, a moment of confusion and curiosity at a new discovery at the end… but the middle was about the boredom of the actual adventure itself. I would have liked to have seen a more meaty middle section with some more wonder.
The actual writing was solid if unspectacular. It was a case of being workmanlike. You told us about the sea and the cold, and the great heights, but we didn’t get much gorgeous descriptions about it. The only time that I felt the writing really came to life was when Lendl did the spell to protect the ship against the waves. “Waves lapping hungrily at its side, eager to drag it under” and “veterans experienced the shame of retching for the first time in decades” were great lines that really showed what was happening. I really loved that section of the story, actually.
Oh, just a couple of technical things. I’m going to mention grammar and spelling in this reviews if it’s a mistake being made over and over, and not just a typo. But you used “it’s” when it should have been “its” several times. And I’m unsure about those line breaks. I’m not sure all of them were necessary. There wasn’t a lot of passage of time between a few of them and the prose probably could have done the heavy lifting.
So overall, a nice little story. A really strong start. An intriguing ending. But man, that middle was a let-down.
Dragon
I am so pleased because the writing in this story, for the most part, was really tidy. A few of your stories have really interesting ideas but I struggle to get to them because they’re riddled with mistakes. This story had a few typos and mistakes, but not a whole lot, and so I was able to enjoy myself a lot more.
This was a good story with one glaring problem and I’m going to tackle that problem first: Lendl’s motivations. Did… did he just end the world as we know it because some guys made fun of him? Because that’s how the story reads. We never really get into Lendl’s motivations for his quest and when we do, it’s all a bit rushed and undercooked. I think you needed to perhaps start dropping hints earlier about it, or make Lendl a more obvious tragic figure. Because at the moment I get to the end of this well-written story and I have no idea why any of it happened and that’s mostly a problem of character. Captain Redshirt got more characterisation than Lendl.
The writing was strong and as I said tidy. The only reoccurring error was your dialogue. Your dialogue needs to end on some sort of punctuation. “Not there yet” Jan rebuked should be “Not there yet,” Jan rebuked. I’m only pointing this out because it was the single repeating error. Sometimes the paragraphing could have been compressed a little. All those single lines paragraph like “Lendl waved dismissively” could have probably been added to the start of the dialogue.
The only thing I’d like to see was a little more description (actually a similar position to Sensar). We’ve got this epic scene. Later, you come up with a truly great idea: the city within the Edge was so cool (and probably wasted). I want you to make those things majestic and awe-inspiring and instead the description was kind of sterile.
Overall, your story had a problem with characterisation and motivation; however… there was still enough of a plot to pull me through it. Seriously, though, that city in the Edge was way more interesting than the whole bringing down the wall and releasing the dead.
Oh, also, Mariansport? And you said Lendl was a bad name.
Result
This was a tough one. I umm’d and ahh’d over this, it was a genuinely close match. I came to a half-hearted conclusion and then gave both stories to Rachel, who reviewed them both as “I liked them, but I liked this one better”. And her opinion aligned with my half-hearted conclusion which gave me a little more confidence.
Both stories were solid, while not quite sparkling. Both stories had great moments and some lacklustre ones. I think if Sensar’s middle was a bit stronger, if the climb was a bit more engaging, I would have given the match to him.
Instead, Dragon had just enough to give him the win.
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