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| The Darkest of Mirrors | |
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| Topic Started: Jul 11 2009, 10:53 PM (127 Views) | |
| vanir90210 | Jul 11 2009, 10:53 PM Post #1 |
Budding Lyricist
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Prologue: The Master's Orders The cool night wind blew through Tholer Saryoni’s hair as he stood before the door to the palace of Vivec. His heavy breathing was the only sound in the calm night air. A flash in the troughs of water ringing the palace drew his vision, breaking his concentration on the door that stood in front of him. Annoyed, he whipped his head towards the disturbance, but saw naught but the sparkling reflections of the purple star belts lining the sky. He turned back toward the door. I can do this, he thought to himself. I have nothing to fear… Similar thoughts wound their way through his mind, though he could not convince himself of this. He grimaced, and finally said the words that would untangle the magickal binds that held the door closed. “A mitta Adonai Emero,” he spoke softly into the air, his breath forming a yellowish mist that floated swiftly to the door, encasing it in an arcane embrace. The door glowed briefly, and he entered. Vivec floated in a meditational position above a platform in the center of the room. Directly across the room from Tholer stood a podium holding three parchment sheafs. He had been in this room many times before, enough to know the titles of the papers. The first was entitled, “The Threat That Lord Nerevar Poses to the Temple,” the second, “Prevention of Destruction,” and the third, “His Holy Plan.” The patriarch knew not what was contained within the pamphlets, only that he did not want to be the one to read them. “Why are you here, my servant?” Vivecs voice cut through the chilling air, His voice as smooth as a well-used staff. “Did I not instruct you to only return with news of the Neravarine?" The god slowly lowered himself to the ground, letting his legs fall to catch himself on the marble floor. Tholer gulped. ”Y…Y-yes my L-lord. I h-have news. Th…there are rumors that the Nerevarine has r-returned. S-someone from the Urshilaku Ashlander c-camp told a merchant th-that someone has been n-named friend of the tribe and is w-working with the wisewoman to b-be proclaimed Neravarine,” Vivec took a deep breath, and turned to face his priest. ”Then why are you here?” He asked, his voice devoid of the melodic calm. ”M… m-my L-lord?” The man-god flashed to being but two feet away from Saryoni. “You have your orders. There is no reason for you to be disturbing my peace.” His voice had lost all semblance of serenity, and was beginning to take on a malevolent tone. Tholer cringed away from the god. ”But, I’m not s-sure I understand.” Vivec’s eyes began to blaze with a demonic fire. ”I told you, when there is any news of the existence the Nerevarine, you are to take your Ordinators, track him down, and kill him! AND YOU ARE NOT TO QUESTION MY WORD!” He added as Tholer opened his mouth to speak. Vivec raised his arm, pointed to the door, and commanded, ”Go! NOW!” as four bolts of lightning shot from his fingertips and struck the corners of the door. Tholer took one last glimpse at his Master’s face, and fled from the room. |
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Spoiler: click to toggle  "I look at the eyes, straight to the soul doorway"
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| redsrock | Jul 11 2009, 11:06 PM Post #2 |
Jefe el Heffalump
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I like the effort, but I'm not sure if it works. I picture a well-used staff being splintered in many places, and basically falling apart. Smooth wouldn't be a part of that. Then again I guess it just depends on what kind of material it's made of. Me, I picture it being wooden. Is that right? It thought this was too short. And, as a prologue, it did nothing to set the background and give readers of a glimpse of what the story is going to be about. I think it would have been better to have started out the first chapter with this short scene, but certainly not this scene alone. This is very short, V2... Also, Vivec sounds no different from the servant. Come now. Vivec is a powerful God that is known throughout the entirety of Tamriel and then some. Give him a higher speech than what he has now. He certainly shouldn't sound the same as his servant. Don't you agree? I am interested, though. Good to see you'll at least be writing something during your hiatus with the FO3 story. |
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| vanir90210 | Jul 11 2009, 11:09 PM Post #3 |
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Budding Lyricist
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By a well used staff, I meant one that is used for walking, i.e. worn smooth from being handled so much. My prologues are always short. What higher speech could I have used here?
This is what it's going to be about, since you were wondering. |
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Spoiler: click to toggle "I look at the eyes, straight to the soul doorway"
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| redsrock | Jul 11 2009, 11:20 PM Post #4 |
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Jefe el Heffalump
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I meant higher as in his diction and his choice of words. He should talk more exquisite than a mere servant. Just my opinion, V2. Take it or leave it. Perhaps instead of "”I told you, when there is any news of the existence the Nerevarine, you are to take your Ordinators, track him down, and kill him!" you could use something like the following: "I have already explained myself. When the news comes of the Nerevarine's arrival, you and your Ordinators are to hunt him down and eliminate him." I don't know... just something more powerful. Cause, he's... you know, a god. |
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| vanir90210 | Jul 11 2009, 11:25 PM Post #5 |
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Budding Lyricist
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Ah, I see. Well, he was getting frustrated, and, well, I'll let the story explain itself in future chapters. Don't want to give away to much right now. |
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Spoiler: click to toggle "I look at the eyes, straight to the soul doorway"
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| Illydoor | Jul 12 2009, 09:52 AM Post #6 |
Slaughterfish
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It was a rather short prologue, and the great description at the start belies what's further on in the chapter. You spend at least two paragraphs on the servant entering the room, but there is little to no description of Vivec himself (or the servant, for that matter) and the actual room he is inside. And apart from what Reds has already said: That line doesn't really make sense. Your can't catch yourself. The whole sentence is a bit awry, you should probably revise it. Maybe 'He let his legs fall, allowing him to settle gently on the marble floor' A cutting voice I think gives the impression of a harsh, peircing or strident voice, rather than a smooth kind of tone. Good work, but you just need to grab the reader a bit more. 
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| vanir90210 | Jul 12 2009, 02:08 PM Post #7 |
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Budding Lyricist
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Well, in paragraphs with dialogue, I find it strenuous to write with description. I can work on it though. Yeah, that is a pretty screwed up sentence, I'll revise it as soon as I can think of something better. It was cutting because his voice was loud, and it was virtually silent in the room beforehand; Vivec had been meditating. So, his voice cut through the silence. Thanks for commenting. |
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Spoiler: click to toggle "I look at the eyes, straight to the soul doorway"
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| Illydoor | Jul 12 2009, 05:19 PM Post #8 |
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Slaughterfish
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The voice cut through the silence of the chilling air then perhaps? You have to mention that it was silent in the room at some point then, there could be a raucous band of trumpeting elephants in the background noise for all we know  .
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| vanir90210 | Jul 12 2009, 05:24 PM Post #9 |
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Budding Lyricist
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Well, Vivec was meditating as I said; It seems hard for even a god to meditate with a raucous band of trumpeting elephants in the background. |
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Spoiler: click to toggle "I look at the eyes, straight to the soul doorway"
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| redsrock | Jul 12 2009, 05:29 PM Post #10 |
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Jefe el Heffalump
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It would also seem hard for a god to suddenly become furious with someone when he's meditating as well. 
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| vanir90210 | Jul 12 2009, 05:38 PM Post #11 |
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Budding Lyricist
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FYI, he's evil. Evil people usually aren't very nice. Besides, who says meditation always works? |
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Spoiler: click to toggle "I look at the eyes, straight to the soul doorway"
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| vanir90210 | Jul 12 2009, 07:04 PM Post #12 |
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Budding Lyricist
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Chapter I: An Unlikely Reunion The light grating sound of a lute sauntered through the air, performing a mystical dance with the chirps of a wooden flute. The short, cheerful notes were clearly audible over the din of chatter in The Eight Plates. Heceril slipped through the intricately carved wooden door, his fingers sliding smoothly along the brown whorls, pausing only to gain a firm hold along the doorframe. His tall, boyish face swiveled right and left, checking for any presence in the entryway. Seeing none, he launched himself through the door, into a melody of music, people, and the sweet smell of fine wine. In his hurry to gain asylum from the biting winter chill, Heceril nearly collided with a High Elf. Heceril himself was a High Elf, born and raised in Valenwood, his parents being childish explorers. He had inherited much of his father’s thirst for adventure, and quite a bit of his mother’s love of simple fun. The prime example of a High Elf, his tall face glowed with the yellow of the morning sun; the only mars to his elegant face were his sunken cheeks. His face belied his age, however; though 43 years old, he looked no more than 20. Heceril quickly apologized for his carelessness. The other High Elf merely looked at him with disgust, and gestured for Heceril to move away. Clearly a mage, Heceril thought, from the looks of him. And damned if I’ve ever met someone with such a bad attitude who wasn’t one. The Altmer did happen to be wearing a plain brown robe, and was carrying a silver staff, intricately carved in the shape of a snake. However, this fit the description of nearly everyone who went on a pilgrimage to the Fields of Kummu; not that Heceril knew much about the Temple or even gave a rat’s ass. To him, they were just a bunch of lunatics, placing their trust in gods who didn’t care enough about their worshipers to even show themselves once in a century. The Daedra, now there were the true miracle workers. Heceril did not worship any one in particular, but rather all as a whole. Many a shrine go-er had criticized his view of such things, but he was quite content to continue his ways. Finally being in warmth, Heceril noticed that he was terribly thirsty from his walk in the dry, gnawing wind. He found a seat at the bar, between a muscular Imperial garbed in dazzlingly polished steel armor(A Legion type, without mistake) and a young looking Dunmer woman with long hair as dark as a raven’s feather draped behind her shoulders. The way she sat, with her feet laying sideways atop the highest bar on the stool, and her chest drooped over her drink was very familiar to him, though he could not place it. There were only four Dunmer he had ever gotten to know well enough that their behavior would register with him, and two of them were fellow members of the Fighter’s Guild, Valenwood division. The thought of who she might be dug deep into the pit of his heart. His mind’s logic was irrefutable; it couldn’t possibly be who he thought she was. He was so intent upon his thoughts that he did not notice the barkeeper staring at him. Hellooo? Anybody there? Don’t have all day, you know… The words erupted in his head with force enough to make him exclaim and give him an intense headache, one that caused his entire brain to throb continuously. He looked around quickly to see the bartender staring at him with wide eyes, and he realized he must have done something abnormal. “What was that?” He asked, desperately attempting to recover his conscious mind. “Umm… I asked what you would like to drink, sir,” the young barkeeper replied, still keeping his distance. Heceril thought for a mere second and replied “Sujamma, please.” The barkeep quickly turned away and hurried into the storeroom, from which he quickly emerged with the wine. “Forty drakes, sir.” The barkeeper said, still staying five feet away from Heceril. Heceril was shocked by the price and did not hesitate to reply, “That is exceedingly overpriced. What say you to thrty?” Heceril asked, hoping that the barkeeper was young enough to be inexperienced with haggling. The barkeeper looked unsure, but then silently agreed with a nod of his head, swiping the money away as it was placed on the table. Left alone to think again, Heceril deliberated his arrival in Vvardenfell and subsequent affairs on the piece of rock with the occasional patch of grass or swamp on which he found himself. For some unknown reason that he was probably never to be found worthy enough to hear, the Emperor(Mephala bless his soul) had decided to release him to the wild lands of Morrowind, on the condition that he be enlisted into the Blades and basically decipher history for his Skooma-addicted Spymaster, Caius Cosades. What he believed the Emperor didn’t know, however, was that this humble Altmer Spellsword was actually the reincarnation of Saint Nerevar. Or at least he had convinced himself of this, no matter what the wisewoman of the Urshilaku thought. According to her, he was not the Nerevarine, though he ‘may become the Nerevarine,’ as if that made any sense at all. The old hag obviously did not understand that he can’t suddenly become the reincarnation of some war hero, he must be born it. It just showed what a whimsical education was to be had without civilization. Chuckling to himself, the swordsman’s thoughts finally returned to the woman sitting next to him. He decided to take the chance, knowing that if he was right, he was certain to be quite joyful, and if he was wrong, it could not harm him. “Aralin?” He said softly, his ears ringing at the sound of her name. The Dark Elf whipped her head to look straight at him, and asked incredulously, “How do you know my name?” |
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| Dark Slinkie | Jul 13 2009, 10:18 AM Post #13 |
Anubis, Lord of the council
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I like it... i find the prolouge to be awesome and teh first chapter was a bit strange but still preety cool. Keep it coming dude, expecting an amazing storyline from this. |
Bloodbath, The Ultimate Battle For Survival The Rp of Thraksheir Thraksheir, land of magic | |
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| redsrock | Jul 13 2009, 11:30 AM Post #14 |
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Jefe el Heffalump
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Careful, you're dipping into present-tense. I liked this chapter. Still too short in my opinion, but you tend to write short all the time. Also, not sure why you bolded the bartender's first sentence. If you want effect, just use an exclamation mark. I don't think the bold works very well... Interesting so far.  It would really help if you wrote a tad bit longer. Oh well. I thought you handled this Altmer rather well, though.
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| Illydoor | Jul 13 2009, 11:49 AM Post #15 |
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Slaughterfish
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Who says it needs to be quiet to meditate? You still need to mention somewhere that it was silent in the room, otherwise the reader won't know. Anyway, on to your next part: Good introduction, very descriptive .You can get rid of the him in this sentence, or alternatively add 'for himself' in front of firm instead. Did you mean childhood or to actually imply that his mother and father were childish? Wrong tense here. 'Glows' should be 'glowed' and 'are' should be 'were'. Good description again. Bit awry. 'What have you at, say, thirty?' perhaps? Also, always depict numbers in word form, makes it seem more professional .All in all, a good chapter, and draws the reader in well too. I shall await more, good sir  . |
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| vanir90210 | Jul 13 2009, 01:07 PM Post #16 |
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Budding Lyricist
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@reds: Dunno, didn't sound right to me in past tense, but noted and fixed. Also, it was because Heceril was reading his thoughts, I'll get into that later. @Illy: Okay, I'll remember that. I suppose I could say 'chillingly silent.' Removing 'him'.... They are actually childish. They don't even take their explorations seriously. They only do it for fun and to see 'who can get higher in the trees' and the like. Tense changed... Yeah, strange again. I'll change it. Thank you all for your gracious comments. |
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