Occula - A Vivacious World

[Celaquil]

So, I've put all my other projects a little to the side and have now decided
to do something new. Namely to write a gathering of shorts and maybe
other experimental texts set in the same universe but with various different
characters. I aim for a strange world, with a strange magical reality that
seems nonsensical. This project is inspired in three parts: By Game of
Thrones, Conan the Barbarian and Jak and Daxter (the video game).

I've already done some mildly extensive world building, but plan to keep
world-building on the go as I write more. Hopefully, I won't be contradicting
myself

What I have so far is merely a sneak-peek at the first chapter, or first text,
I plan to write. I will release the entire thing when it's done, and if I write
more I will also release those. This is meant as a writing experiment and
I intend for it to be a non-profit project. If I get this going for real, I may
also make a dedicated site for it.

Hope you like it!

PS: My writing style includes a lot of "-" between certain paragraphs, this symbol
is a sign to the reader from me that the transition also changes perspective, from
one character to another. This will obviously become apparent while you read, but
it might be good to know in advance so you don't get confused.
____________________________________________________________________

Occula - A Vivacious World

“The eye sees all, and Omnio knows.”


The Reclaimers

“The words have been spoken, and the ancients stir in their graves. The voices of a thousand dead breaths life through the world to hearken their awakening. One is already among us, the one they call the shadow of a thousand whispers, Mahlo the Treacherous. His arrival brought the ruin of an empire, and he will not sleep until the world is his grave. The words have been spoken, and the Spoken must rise. Their voices is all we can trust if the world of Occula shall remain ours to reign.

Forth comes Rheein: Bright eyed, white of hair, slender of build and with a hungering desire to discover and to know. Young and daring he is destined to thread the very fabric of civilization, to explore the vast unknown secrets of ruin and of legend. Armed with only his wit and voice, he is thrown into a world of chaos, plunged as thus from a past of peace. Great empires and grand kings will be at the mercy of his whims, and the very survival of existence may depend on his actions. His past is etched by catastrophic loss, his future is written and already foretold. But he is lost, like all humans, to the workings of fate, ignorant to the knowledge of his destiny. And like all human beings the choice is his to make, he will falter and fail, we can only pray that he will one day find his way." – Unknown Announcement

-​

“Kid!” A voice called from behind, he ignored it. Before him was the vast thunderous lands of Ghaleroun, lands unowned by any man. Here was living mountains that moved at their own will, rains and winds and weather uncaring and ruthless. Even as he faced the open vastness before him, where soon armies would collide, the tears of Ghaleroun whipped into his face as the land screamed around him. This land had a poetic beauty to it, the rolling hills covered by a sea of pale grass and shrubbery, only broken by large cracks in the ground leading to fathomless depths. The hillsides and mountains in the distance, while slowly hovering and swaying in the ever-present storms, were covered by swirling forests of blue and teal.
On either side of the cracked plains, armies were forming up around war-camps. On one side was the mounted gleaming riders of the thunderbolt, Deacon Jion Wahri’s forces. And on the other side the more miss-matched troops of Khurin the Flamerider were marshalling under his banner, scattered warlords brought together by the dragon, sigil of Khurin. There was a wild beauty to these rolling hills, where shells were clinging to the crevices and the edges of the cracks, and where fish were desperately whizzing in the skies, hopelessly seeking refuge from the everlasting storms.
In a fit of crazy stupidity, his mind left the present and faded into a dead past, a past nearly forgotten. He had once, or so he thought, been an innocent child in the majestic city of Sal’Aan, far to the west and even further to the north, a place where the sun was a caressing hand and the winds shy even to leisurely stroke a flag. He was sitting beside a girl on the cliff-side before the ocean, a streak of generous sunlight waved through the waters above. They were young and naïve and in love, throwing pebbles far into the misty clouds before them and laughing together like happy children should. Watching the clouds twist and curl with smiles on their faces.
Then, like always, the monsters emerged from the mists, from the dark depths below layers of layers of white clouds they came toward the harbor. Large and looming monsters, only shadows in his mind’s eye now, but that only made them even more terrifying.
They screamed and ran back to the city, and before long, the beautiful city was engulfed in darkness. The screaming, the slaughter---
A hand on his shoulder shook him out of the nightmare. “Are you deaf, Rheein?!” His commander, Ki’Je, growled through the howling winds as he pulled Rheein around to face him. “Or have this damned weather finally broken you…?” he continued, eyeing Rheein with a sense of sly satisfaction written across his tiger-like face. It quickly changed from amusement to worry when he saw what must be paleness in Rheein’s face. “Seriously, are you alright son?” he asked. Rheein shook of Ki’Je’s clawed hand and turned away, shrugging. Why was these visions of his past always returning to haunt him at the most inconvenient times? The past was dead. It was nothing to him now.
“I’m fine,” He answered, disdainfully and somewhat ashamed of himself “I was just reminded of something--- stupid.” He continued, half-whispering in the hopes that his commander wouldn’t hear it. Ki’Je barked a quick laugh and hit him in the shoulder, brandishing a ridiculous grin. Those long ebony fangs in his face went perfectly with his blood red glowing eyes. This face had once scared Rheein, it had once been the face of a demon in his mind. When he was younger and more foolish. He wasn’t that fool anymore. He couldn’t be.
“Well kid, it can’t be anything more stupid than what we are about to do.” He jeered, crashing one of his massive arms across Rheeins shoulders and then reined him in with him, moving toward the others. Or more stupid than the fact that you are wearing nothing to protect yourself against the weather, he thought to himself. His commander was bare-chested and wore a simple pair of trousers, and the only kind of décor he brandished was his silly looking necklace that was now digging into Rheeins throat. A continuous row of large pearls infused with Feirca, glowing red like Ki’Je’s eyes. His annoyance at the necklace wasn’t as strong as his frustration with himself, though. He cursed himself under his breath as Ki’Je led him forwards, he wasn’t that naïve highborn shit-kid anymore, he was seventeen, soon to be eighteen, he needed to have a stronger will than this. Better focus. Especially if they were going to pull this off. It wasn’t every day you planned to assassinate the generals of the two largest armies in Ghaleroun, at the very moment when they clashed together on the battlefield.

-​

He loved the kid to death, but hell, Rheein was a weird one, he thought to himself as he stood outside in the dirt and rain, arms crossed, while Rheein was getting into his armor. He insisted to dress like a girl, with skirts and shit, and that hair, completely shaved on one side and braided into three separate braids on the other side. Each of these braids of his held at least one large pearl infused with Tectra, and several smaller ones, glowing with a faint hue of blue. When he wasn’t on the field of battle, the boy even used this face-paint shit that girls used, mascara or what they called it, and he gravitated toward these weird-ass half-coats: Trailing long on one side, all the way down to his heel, and short on the other, not even covering the bum. Rheeins coat had a weird way of connecting across the chest, with three separate straps going over a bare chest, and he usually brandished a midnight blue half-cape as well. So much clothing to be caught up in during a fight, it was good the kid had the sense to not wear his foolish costumes into battle. That a man, or boy he had to correct himself, could care so much for how he looked and what he wore was completely beyond him. Especially in a place like this. But well, what else should he expect? He was Sal after all. Ki’Je didn’t know much about the world, about other nations and shit going on elsewhere, but he had heard about the late Sal-Empire, ruled nearly exclusively by females for generations, and with a strange tradition of not making distinctions between male or female in most things, also clothing. He was young yet, there was still time to beat some sense into his head in that regard. But he couldn’t help being lenient with the boy, especially considering everything he’d been through, and not to mention the fact that he was a born leader and a devil with that strange spear-sword-thing of his. And then there was the lens thing, the so-called “Voice”, Ki’Je still got shivers every time he looked at Rheeins hand, it was hollowed straight through, a perfect circle, with strange metallic ornaments covering the flesh and this transparent lens looking disc in the middle of his palm. Rheein could control that lens however he wanted, levitating it around himself freely. He could even use it to cast Cae, to shoot lightning at his enemies and other Tectra related things. “I’m a Director” he’d once told Ki’Je when the kid had finally stopped being afraid of him, “and you are a Consumer” he had continued “Cae works differently with all people, some can absorb it and hold it for a time to perform miraculous feats, they are called Absorbers. Others consume it and never let it go, like you, that’s why you look so---“
“Terrifying?” Ki’Je had laughed. And he guessed the kid had a point. At first there had been nothing strange about it, consuming Feirca had simply made him stronger, more robust, it made him a natural brawler, and he’d always loved fighting. But as he grew, and as he consumed more Cae, he had changed. Now his eyes had a red glowing hue to them, his nails and teeth were sharp and protruding, and here and there, all around his muscled body there was tiny red cracks in his skin, slowly radiating red Feirca, like blood leaking from a wound. Rheein had told him this happened to all Consumers eventually; holding Cae in your body for an extended time would eventually alter the body’s physics and workings. And that if he wasn’t careful, if he consumed too much, he may one day succumb to the Cae and become what he called a “Manifest”. A monster created from pure Cae energy.
He loved his talons though. Thinking about all the windpipes and ankles and eyes and faces and wrists he’d raked during his time always put a smile on his face.
“What are you grinning so stupidly about?” Rheein asked, coming out from the tent as he was pulling a tan leather glove over his hollowed out hand. He looked pretty good in his polished white armor, brandishing the three lilies that was the sigil of their lord Kheyn on his chest-piece. He’d never tell the kid that though. The transformation from a silly looking girlish boy to a decent looking warrior was always a welcome sight.
“Oh, you know, good memories.” He smiled to himself, using his thumb claw to sharpen his middle finger claw as he looked out at the cracked plains, longing to rush headfirst into battle. Rheein gave a grunt of amusement and walked past him, toward the stables to saddle up his crab. There was yet another thing Rheein was born to do, he was the most skilled crab surfer Ki’Je had ever seen. Sometimes it made him sick how damned perfect this boy seemed, but even he had his quirks, his very own shortcomings, he reminded himself. They were friends, after all. His men had obviously anticipated Rheein’s arrival, as a servant came walking out of the stables with Rheein’s crab already fully saddled.
“Well mate” Rheein said as he stepped up to the crab and grabbed the reins “Soon you’ll get to make some new memories to smirk ridiculously about!” he shouted through the howling wind as he swung himself onto the top of the crab, and, planting his feet firmly in the foot-saddles, he rode off towards Jion’s war-camp.
“I hope the kid is up to the task.” He mused to himself as he looked at Rheein spearheading his force of a hundred or so warriors. Then he walked back to his own tent to get ready for his part in the scheme to come.

-​

# [This text is in place of a very large part that is missing between these two sub-chapters, which will detail what happened to the Deacon, who Jion and Khurin is and the strange meeting between Rheein and the "stranger" mentioned in the final parts of the sub-chapter below.] #

-​

Very few things in life could compare to crab surfing, that feeling of freedom as you glide across the land standing on top of a monstrous shelled creature with pincers as large as a human’s head was like nothing else. What’s more, these crabs has some sort of sixth sense when it comes to stability, the roughness in the ground beneath the creature could rarely be felt as you stood on top of its back. Feeling the wind in his hair as he rode toward the battlefield, dodging arrows and directing his forces, he checked his Tectra reserves. There was more than enough for this battle, his Voice already held a good portion, and the pearls in his hair was completely untouched, he’d have to be careful not to use it too flashily though. Even though people rarely remembered exact events in the midst of battle, and statistically anyone who would notice had a large chance of dying, he wouldn’t want word to get back to the Deacons son that he was a Caeyer, lest he be suspected for his father’s murder.
With one hand on the reins, he shot his other hand out to the side and flickered his relic spear into combat mode, using Tectra he could manipulate the spear to fold upon itself, turning from a deadly double-ended spear into a tiny cane and back again. From atop his crab he could already see most of what was happening this side of the battlefield: Jion’s forces had already crashed into Khurin’s frontlines, making short work of the confused vanguard. By the way the lieutenants commanded their forces, it was clear that their plan was working, Ki’je had hit Khurins forces from the side and was spear-heading straight toward Khurin himself. The flame riders of Ki’je’s force was difficult to halt, and before long Ki’je and his men would be in the middle of Khurins army, surrounded on all sides, fighting to kill their commander as quickly as they could. Rheein signaled his men to follow, he intended to move around the frontlines in a wide arch and hit the Khurin army from the same side Ki’je had entered, hopefully it’d be softened by Ki’je’s onslaught, and he might work his way in to provide easier retreat for his friend when the deed was done.
As they broke free from the central unit, led by the Zan brothers, he tried to spy Ki’je’s banner among the Khurin forces, but it was nowhere to be seen. Although bothersome, it didn’t completely dishearten him, Ki’je’s forces was known to throw down their banners in favor of being more efficient in combat. Hopefully that’s what had happened. Curiously, though, he could vaguely see hundreds of Skit emerging from the deep ravines beneath the battlefield in the middle of Khurins forces, ambushing their archers and rear-guard. Maybe this was part of some hidden ploy Jion had planned, but if so, he had failed to inform his generals of this before his demise. Regardless, it was a welcome distraction. As they rounded a grand spire that Khurins vanguard used to protect their eastern flank, he could see that the forces behind it was reforming, and there was many dead men lying about. This was proof that Ki’je had come through here, all the proof he needed.

As he and his men, some hundred men all mounted on crabs, closed on the reforming flank of Khurin’s force, he sent his crab crashing into the frontlines as he back flipped off it and charged in behind it, slashing and stabbing about, delivering death right and left. They were few and outnumbered, but his men was twice the warriors of Khurins forces, and their crabs were making headway into their ranks, difficult creatures to kill. They formed a compact force behind the line of crabs, killing off any and every straggler that the crabs left behind, wary to not get too close to the blood-frenzied beasts. If they got too close, they would be attacked themselves, crabs didn’t distinguish between friend or foe when their blood was up. And it wouldn’t be long before they turned on each-other. But with all the chaos involved, being attacked from two sides and from within, Khurins forces were disoriented and discouraged, and for all the hard work of shouting lieutenants and sergeants, there was no mistaking that few stood their ground. This would be an easy victory.

-​

He cursed under his breath as he crushed the skull of the nearest Skit and grabbed its corpse, throwing it into the rapidly forming ranks of Khurins forces. Where had these devils come from? Everything had gone so well: His frontline flame riders, mounted on deadly hummers with nearly impenetrable carapace and lance-like pincers, had plowed through the lightly armored forces like a hot knife cutting through butter. Quickly after flanking the unprepared front-line they had sighted Khurins honor guard banners and homed in on it, it had been closer to the center of the army than Ki’je would have thought, but then Khurin was the kind of commander that liked staying close to the action. This time, that would have been a mistake. If it hadn’t been for the sudden appearance of these damned creatures. The Skit was native to this realm, and had over many centuries accustomed themselves to fighting scaled creatures like themselves and the hummers. So, when the Skit had emerged from the cracks beneath them, they had completely halted their momentum. Crashing their heavy war-hammers into the frontline hummers, sending the creatures reeling and throwing their riders left and right, so now Ki’je and his men was stuck in the middle of Khurin’s forces, fighting the Skit on one side and humans on the other. Disorganized as Khurin’s forces was, this was not a place they wanted to be in, there was too many Skit swarming them, and apparently the Skit didn’t care who they killed. As much as he loved being in a dire situation like this, crushing skulls and breaking men, he knew they couldn’t stay here long, even though he could kill a hundred, even five hundred, men before he died. They would still get surrounded and killed if they held their current position. He spied a slight spire hill close by, if he could get up there he might get a better bearing of what they should do to get out of this. He roared fiercely as he threw himself against the men between himself and the hill, he had no weapon save for his fangs and raw strength, but he didn’t need weapons. The Feirca pulsing in his veins made him more tireless and stronger than any normal man, it even made his flesh firmer than burnt leather, and his bones stronger than a tree trunk. He was a perfect killing machine, as he ripped out windpipes and split flesh, his men formed behind him, warding off the Skit to their rare as best they could. With one gigantic leap, he jumped onto the hill, throwing off the few archers that had taken up position there, and started scanning the battlefield around him. To the southwest he could see Jion’s forces breaking Khurin’s vanguard, the miss-matched forces retreating before the mounted knights of the, hopefully, deceased Deacon. To the east he saw what remained of Rheeins crabs turning on themselves after having cut deep into Khurin’s forces, warily followed by Rheein himself and his men, this was their exit. To the northeast, he saw white flags and hundreds of hundreds of soldiers scattering before the chaotic battlefield, Khurin’s honor-guard banner in the middle of them. The battle was all but won, but that didn’t mean Ki’je and his men was out of danger yet. And, finally, to the west he saw---
“Oh fuck me…!” he cursed between his teeth as dread consumed him.

-​

He shook his head with a grim smile on his face as he looked at the crabs hacking and slashing at each other, frothing bubbles and slime from their fanged mouths. It was a morbid sight, shells were cracking, and clear blood mixed with white seeping from severed limbs, claws breaking claws. Not to mention the humans stuck in the middle of the slaughter. There was no salvation for them as their bones and bodies shattered between the sharp edges of crabs bumping into crabs, as they were stabbed to death on the ground by the sharp legs of the creatures, and snapped to pieces by the great claws. It was a bloodbath. He looked away as he pulled his spear out from the torso of a dead soldier. He bowed his head slightly to the wailing creatures. He rather felt bad for them, they weren’t made for this, they were originally peaceful creatures. But, as always, humans had done to them what humans did best: Carelessly taking what they can and turning it into what they want, with complete disregard to everything else. They had done their job, now they could die and be rid of this twisted world. As he turned to reengage the soldiers that were pressing on their sides, he caught a glimpse of something incredible, and decided to step back. Out of nowhere a majestic, rider-less, hummer galloped into the midst of the blood-frenzied crabs, and even through the chaotic clamor of the battlefield, he could hear a soothing high-pitched humming. It was beautiful, beyond compare to anything he’d ever heard before, and it originated from the hummer. He didn’t even stop to consider the strangeness of the fact that this humming was so much stronger than what these creatures normally resonated. He only felt a strange sense of tranquility, as he observed, completely awe-inspired, that the crabs were slowly calming from their frenzy and forming a protective circle around the hummer. As if, the horse-like creature was their general, their king. He felt like dropping his weapon, like bowing down before this majestic creature, but another sound broke through his eardrums. A shrieking alien boom of impending doom that shook the very ground beneath his feet, it swept through the entire battlefield and rattled every man so much that even the most vehement men stopped nearly instantaneously to piss themselves. What followed was the most silent moment of dread he had ever seen on a battlefield.

-​

His eyes was locked on the western horizon. Not even the extreme change of sound and motion around him could distract him from this sight. Everyone knew what this was. As if they were standing right in front him, and not several kilometers away, he saw the two Reclaimers on the horizon, slowly walking toward the battlefield. No larger than a normal man these robotic creatures were dressed in simple travel cloaks, hoods down to reveal their eyeless spherical heads. Floating around where a normal man might have a neck was smaller spheres that looked nearly identical to their “heads”. These was their weapons, deadly weapons that was near impossible to block or ward off, they would shoot them in all directions, and control each one individually as if it was the only sphere they had. With inhuman precision.
He was, like every other soldier on the battlefield, so stunned that he couldn’t even twitch a single muscle as he observed one of the Reclaimers elevating it’s head higher and higher into the air. And when it reached it’s zenith, it shot down with such speed that the only thing one could see was the massive shockwave that was now moving toward them, like the storm wall of a supercell. Ki’je braced his back against the spire behind him, hoping against hope that he wouldn’t get caught in the shockwave. It moved through the battlefield, knocking everyone to the ground, it probably wouldn’t kill them, but limbs would break and necks might snap. And everyone would lose their conscience, or so he thought. As the shockwave came toward him, he closed his eyes and prepared for the impact, holding his breath.
Nothing. After what seemed like an eternity he opened his eyes again, the shockwave had passed, and everyone lay unconscious and spread all around him. Rheein. The Reclaimers were here for his relic. That was the only explanation. He had to find his friend, quickly.

-​

Something blew across his face, and he could feel a slight thudding against his side. What had happened? He--- He’d been in the middle of a fight, everything was hazy, he remembered charging into someone, riding his crab, he remembered the crabs slaughtering each other--- The hummer! It had calmed the crabs, made them form a half-circle around him, facing westward, then--- Then they had done something strange. They’d turned around, their backs toward the west, and stood up on their hind legs. They’d used their great claws to brace against the ground, as if they were making a living barricade. Then the shockwave had hit, it’d blown everything everywhere, but Rheein and everyone else behind the crabs had simply been knocked over, he’d probably hit his head on a rock.
He opened his eyes, and slowly the lobster-like face of the hummer came into focus, it was sniffing at him, poking him with it’s pincers. “Whatever happens during this battle,” the stranger had said, “you must travel north-east.” Rheein slowly got to his feet, struggling to stand, if this was the impact on him, he could help but think how it’d been for those that weren’t behind the crabs. He steadied himself against the hummer. As he caught his breath, he remembered what had caused this. Reclaimers. Dread filled him; they were after him, after his relic. He looked at the hummer, somehow it felt like it beckoned him, as if it was bowing it’s head. Without thinking he grabbed the reins and swung himself onto it, it responded obediently, as if they had been friends all their life. And when he put it’s heels into the hummers side, it shot into motion, galloping away, westward and then north.
“Go to the Origin.” The stranger had said before he vanished, he didn’t have any better ideas. More importantly, he really needed to get as far away from these Reclaimers as he possibly could.

Poem:

Poem:

I am a liar,
Lied to ---
By liars.

My life is desolate,
as I have desolated
my soul - forfeited.

I am grey like a diminished day,
I am lorn, like the looming storm,
Ripe to wreak wreckage,
In this veil of my visage,
I am not, or should not be,

I am me ---

Here's a tiny overview (that won't really be part of the final experience) of the "magic" in Occula:

- Cae: The "magic" in Occula, it's very reminiscent of "Eco" from the Jack and Daxter universe in terms of looks and feel.
Readers of the books by Brandon Sanderson's books The Stormlight Archives
may also notice that I have drawn some inspiration from his stormlight
magic.

- Consumer: A person who consumes Cae and holds it for a long time,
the Cae will eventually leak out of the body, but this process is extremely slow.

- Absorber: A person who can absorb Cae into his body and use it to
perform various things, but using the Cae will expel it from his body immediately
and he will have to find a new source of Cae to continue the process.

- Director: A person who can "direct" Cae, these people do not absorb
the powers into their bodies but manipulates it from a distance, usually via
the help of tools such as "the Voice" or other reliquary items.

- Manifest: Beings of pure Caeic energy, there are various types of
Manifest:

Feral: Animals who have either come too close to or has been consumed by
Cae and have been transformed. These beings are of a very low intelligence
and are known to be susceptible to Caeic control. (By directors or other
Manifests.)

Fiend: A creature of pure Cae, the origin of these beings are mysterious, but
they are known to have a low form of cunning and intelligence.

Arch Fiend: A sentient being (Eks: human) who have been too influenced by
Cae and has as thus been consumed by it. These Caeic creatures are known
to be very intelligent, but are rarely the same as what they were before the
consumption.

The different kinds of Cae:

Tectra - blue - electricity (binding)
Feirca - red - temperature (regulation)
Sehcra - yellow - gravity (kinetic)
Greica - green - life (mending)
Shicra - purple - void (splitting)
Lighcra - white - light (bending)
Drekra - black - light (shrouding)

Vencra - grey - wind (navigation)
____________________________________________________________________

Disclaimer: This is a living work in progress, everything is prune to
be changed and revised and added to. Suggestions and ideas and feedback
are more welcome than you could ever imagine

I only grow by the help of others.

Sign,

Mats Rafoss

 

[Gottfried]

Hope you like it!

I hope so!

“The words have been spoken, and the ancients stir in their graves. The voices of a thousand dead breaths life through the world to hearken their awakening.

Hearken? I needed to search, what this word means... Good! If people care about your work, that is a good sign.

One is already among us, the one they call the devil, Mahlo the Treacherous, shadow of a thousand whispers.

He seems to be meaningful... However for somehow reason, I find this introduction entertaing and it remembers me Daenerys' many claimant titles.

His arrival brought the ruin of an empire, and he will not sleep until the world is his grave. The words have been spoken, and the Spoken must rise. Their voices is all we can trust if the world of Occula shall remain ours to reign...” - Unknown Announcement

Hopefully it will be awesome like GoT. (not a subjective oponion, you will see that I lack of subjectivity) I do not know about too much from Jax and Daxter or Conan, but I will check their lore as soon as possible.

“Rheein!” A voice called from behind, he ignored it. Before him was the vast thunderous lands of Ghaleroun, lands unowned by any man. Here was living mountains that moved at their own will, rains and winds and weather uncaring and ruthless.

Not a place for holidays! However it remembers the reader to Outland, but not a big deal.

Even as he faced the open vastness before him, where soon armies would collide, the tears of Ghaleroun whipped into his face as the land screamed around him. There was a wild beauty to these barren rocks, where the only life was shells clinging to the crevices and fish desperately whizzing in the skies, hopelessly seeking refuge from the everlasting storms. In a fit of crazy stupidity, his mind left the present and faded into a dead past, a past nearly forgotten.

Right...

He had once, or so he thought, been an innocent child in the majestic city of Sal’Aan, far to the west and even further to the north, a place where the sun was a caressing hand and the winds shy even to leisurely stroke a flag.

It seems a paradise trope.

He was sitting beside a girl on the cliff-side before the ocean, a streak of generous sunlight waved through the waters above. They were young and naïve and in love, throwing pebbles far into the misty clouds before them and laughing together like happy children should.

A montage? It seems to be that.

Watching the clouds twist and curl with smiles on their faces.

Trashy, sorry. The other above is enough.

Then, like always, the monsters emerged from the mists, from the dark depths below layers of layers of white clouds they came toward the harbor. Large and looming monsters, only shadows in his mind’s eye now, but that only made them even more terrifying.

Like always, true... a moment breaker/killer. It is an overused cliché... http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/MomentKiller but not unrequired if the plot needs it.

They screamed and ran back to the city, and before long, the beautiful city was engulfed in darkness. The screaming, the slaughter---

You know, I will know that happens, before I read this part.

A hand on his shoulder shook him out of the nightmare. “Do you hear me, Rheein? We need to get ready!” His commander, Ki’Je, growled through the howling winds as he pulled Rheein around to face him. His tiger-like face changed from anger to worry as he saw what must be paleness in Rheein’s face.

Fair, alright... let's read the other lines.

“Are you alright son?” he asked. Rheein shook of Ki’Je’s clawed hand and turned away, shrugging.

He is a clawed man? Like Wolverine?

Why was these visions of his past always returning to haunt him at the most inconvenient moments? The past was dead.

But not for him, he is haunted by that memories.

“I’m fine,” He answered, disdainfully and somewhat ashamed of himself “I was just reminded of something--- stupid.” He continued, half-whispering in the hopes that his commander wouldn’t hear it. Ki’Je barked a quick laugh and hit him in the shoulder, brandishing a ridiculous grin.

Fine... I thought it was a flashback from a distant past. However it seems, they recently leave the attacked town.

Those long ebony fangs in his face went perfectly with his blood red glowing eyes. This face had once scared Rheein, it had once been the face of a demon in his mind. When he was younger and more foolish. He wasn’t that fool anymore. He couldn’t be.

Not needed, this is an also overused cliché about overcaotious attitude, which makes him Batman-like and Arrow-like or a stereotypical warrior-like man.

“Well kid, it can’t be anything more stupid than what we are about to do.” He jeered, crashing one of his massive arms across Rheeins shoulders and then reined him in with him, moving toward the others. Rheein cursed himself under his breath as Ki’Je led him forwards, he wasn’t that naïve highborn shit-kid anymore, he was seventeen, soon to be eighteen, he needed to have a stronger will than this. Better focus.

Oh no... he is very a Oliver Queen type (tv series) and the one with claws remembers to Slade. However his desire to advance is worth for admiration.

Especially if they were going to pull this off. It wasn’t every day you planned to assassinate the generals of the two largest armies in Ghaleroun, at the very moment when they clashed together on the battlefield.

Oh... they remembers to Slade and Oliver really, especially that they planning ambush, seems to slightly similar that the ambush to Iwo, but with different environment and circumstances. Well... I not expect for this ending... good!

An advice: It will be better to attack the generals in sleep instead of the battlefield. If they planned it very well, they can escape easily.

Overall: Fine story with good twists, but some moment is clichéd. I do not see Conan or Jax and Daxter... I read your story as an independent one, without it is inspirations.

 

[Celaquil]

Wow, thanks for all the input mate! Even though this is only a small part of the first
chapter And yeah, I guess there's some clichés, but a good story needs some of
those to make you feel like you're the better man reading it

I do not see Conan or Jax and Daxter...

That will get more apparent with the remaining chapter and the texts to come. ^^

 

[Gottfried]

I guess there's some clichés, but a good story needs some of
those to make you feel like you're the better man reading it

This is not unacceptable, but how do you mean it? If a story clichéd you are better man by reading it? I speak English, but this words are hardly understandable.

Try to be unique, try to subvert the tropes and make the plot unpredictable or hardly predictable.

Let me to show you something, if you avoid these, you might be even very significant with your writings.:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Thirty-Six_Dramatic_Situations
http://www2.silverblade.net/cliches/
http://fantasy-faction.com/2013/ten-fantasy-cliches
http://www.obsidianbookshelf.com/html/fantasycliches.html
and the inn with adventurers...

 

[Celaquil]

but how do you mean it?

I don't want this thread to turn into a debate about clichés, so let this post be the last
one on the subject. If you want to continue the debate, we can move over to VMs or
even PMs.

Anyway, what I meant was that clichés are pretty much unavoidable, because what is
considered cliché to some, may not be considered cliché to someone else. Furthermore,
a cliché can be used to misdirect and/or enhance another plot-twist that may come
later or around about the same time. What I meant by making the reader feel like the
better man is that some people will actually get excited by the fact that they can
predict clichés. And while this is obviously not a good argument to write a fully blown
up cliché story, it is a good tool to use for smaller parts of the story.

Again, thanks for the advice and suggestions, I will certainly take a look at those links,
but there is no need to project a "mentor" attitude. I have been writing for many years
and I am currently studying for a bachelor degree in Literature at the University of
Bergen, Norway. So while I appreciate the help, the comments and the suggestions, I
do not appreciate the attitude. If this was unintentional or has to do with language or
cultural barriers, then well. I didn't mean to offend.

Try to be unique, try to subvert the tropes and make the plot unpredictable or hardly predictable.

As previously mentioned, the basis for which this discussion is based upon is an excerpt
from a longer chapter, so don't you worry, I may fool you yet

PS: Added another paragraph.

 

[MiniMage]

Feels like I'm reading the third book in a series, where all have been established to some extent already. As most stories progress from zero state, as opposed to a flashback to a naive past.

You do paint a lovely scenery. While also feels a little heavy on the text, diverting from the description of the land to past memories, in the middle of the paragraph of painting the world for the reader.

All in all, my influences lie in Light Novels. I go for comedy, light and easy description with short and vague paint of the area, with some description of core details, to anchor the reader. I generally tend to make the reader paint the scenery from the hints presented rather than shove exposition their way. Characters are core details though. They must always be explained, sometimes exessively so. The more important the character, the more detailed the description.

The two men I saw is also described fairly well, to an extent. One man who has grown demonic through the becoming one with magic. Surging with fiery cracks, pointy ears, glowing eyes and claws. However, how does his face look like, is it a feline face? a rugged face? A strong jaw? does he have a huge nose? A small one? Is he a tall giant or a generic height? Clean shaven? or a rugged dirty beard? I'm trying to form an image in my mind, but it leaves me with some many questions. Besides the most generic features, not much of him is actually explained besides what sticks out from the norm. The other, tamed and twisted by an absurd feminazi state, to the point of having a feminine design on his armor. (Is it a lot of flowers and hearts and stuff?) However, he isn't explained much more besides this. He's a formless man, we don't know how he looks, hell, I'm not even sure if the color of his hair is even mentioned. Basically, he has a feminine armor and a funky hairstyle, with a past that haunts him, but is so loosely described as it feels like a cutscene.

Rather than loose descriptions of events, dreams generally focus only on details. The woman, where is she when they run? As the landscape rolls in front of them, you generally look at two things, the most unimportant details that you only remember in hindsight. The pain in your leg, how your feet digs into the ground as you run, the expression of the people around you, the faceless monster chasing you, which roars form scary images. Shapeless forms of teeth and death. Exaggerations of things he never saw. Other important details; The serenity of the sanctuary you run towards, or the depressing steel gates, with men with dead eyes stare you down as you scream for help. Because that is interesting, not that they scream, but how, why. Also, terrors that haunt you is generally in reflection to things you regret. Things you wish you did different. Did the woman die? Was she hurt? A nightmare with a happy ending is not a nightmare, after all.

Although I'm not really sure how one makes a feminine design on armor, as armor is generally described to shield the vital areas. I'd understand if the design was something akin to early roman armors. Even then I still can't imagine how one makes such an armor feminine and still making it practical. But then again, this is fantasy. Still, it annoys me. If they added boobs on the armor, that would actually make it dangerous. If an opponent swings a blade his way and hits the uppermost part of the boob, the blade will be guided towards the neck, making the armor almost more dangerous than if he had been without one, clad merely in chainmail and leather.

I'm basically trying to picture something akin to a feminized version of this: https://qph.is.quoracdn.net/main-qimg-92c8c13fc03e9beb5f154710fd46223f?convert_to_webp=true

Summarized, it's an interesting start, although it feels a little dark, moody and slow. But I'd chalk that up to style if anything else. Still, it does not feel like it is from the start of a story, but more like a bit into the story. But that might also just be me. If the story starts as such, It would be more interesting being presented the landscape as the lead rides/walks there, through it. Through the landscape. We would thus see the world described by someone nameless only to have him named by a voice in the distance and have his vague form described then and there. You could have the flashback scenes describe a place but not name it, as that generally only slows the pace down and makes the reader ponder, "Do I need to rememeber this name?". If the place needs to be remembered later, then you could adress the flashback from another point of view, to stress the importance of remebering the place and thus for the other guy to clarify what story he is telling, would need to name the place and the woman. Or expand on it. Whichever the case may be. Anyhow, here's some of my points. Hate them or love them, but these details is what personally hooks me to stories. Although mostly the personality of the lead. I haven't really seen much of the leads personality though.

Apologies for the rant. I've actually been trying to get into writing myself. I wonder if I should make something. Hm.

 

[Celaquil]

Holy guacamole Minimage, I never imagined you'd be this thorough.

Well, it would be unseemly of me not to respond in kind:

Feels like I'm reading the third book in a series, where all have been established to some extent already. As most stories progress from zero state, as opposed to a flashback to a naive past.

I wouldn't say that most books does this, there are certainly many books
that does both, but yeah. I myself am fond of the "throwing you right into the shit
and then letting you figure out everything as you go along" rather than the "let me
explain everything to you before you start getting along with the actual story, eh bro? "
approach. That's just a matter of taste, but, I did try the latter variant to begin with.
When I originally started writing this, I tried starting the story right there where the
flash-back happens, and I soon grew stuck or otherwise disinterested in continuing.

My first draft started in Sal'Aan, with a sort of Harry Potter-esque going to school
kind of thing, where I intended to explain the magic in this world fully from the
get-go, the "Cae", and then some cheap romantic relation between the main
character and a girl that ended up in an unexpected twist right before everything
went to shits with those "demonic dark figures spawning from the "ocean".
I've now come to a decision that I would rather want to tell that story a little
more loosely as "flash-backs" and/or separate short chapters, rather than as
it's own chapter to kick everything off.

This version seems much more entertaining to write, and adds some mysticism for
the reader to puzzle together piece-by-piece of information you'll be given during the
progress of the story. I can also disclose that the girl in the flashback will also have
her own chapters, where more of what happened that fateful day will be explained.

You do paint a lovely scenery. While also feels a little heavy on the text, diverting from the description of the land to past memories, in the middle of the paragraph of painting the world for the reader.

Did this seem confusing to you, or discontinuing? I may have a closer look at it.
Thanks for bringing that up.

All in all, my influences lie in Light Novels.

It is obvious that many of your following points after this statement
is influenced by this mentality. That is why you will be seeing some
disagreements from my side, but I will explain them.

I generally tend to make the reader paint the scenery from the hints presented rather than shove exposition their way. Characters are core details though. They must always be explained, sometimes exessively so. The more important the character, the more detailed the description.

I have a serious disagreement with these two points, and I'll tell you why. Characters
are important, but what is important about them is their character, their mentality,
their personality. Not their appearance. Not the size of their nose, or the length of their
toes. One important factor, the way I see it, is that people don't usually, in real life,
describe other people from hip to top, from nose to bum, whenever they see them.
I always groan whenever I read a full-page description made by one guy about another
when these guys have known each other for a long time and are either good friends
or acquaintances. People think about things that stick out, things that remarks them-
selves. Now I am as much a fan as anyone of knowing how a person looks, but I don't
want to fed an entire mental monologue about it in one go. I want to get some
information one place and some information another place, where the remarks on
someone's appearance doesn't seem forced to unnatural, chip by chip, and in the end
I will have either painted myself a mental image that is completely incorrect or an
image that is perfect. That's the joy of reading, you get to use your imagination.

If you want exact descriptions or portrayals, read a biography or a graphic novel.

Now, scenery on the other hand, scenery is important to describe. People usually do,
it's one of the first things they talk about; how the weather is and what the scenery looks
like. A lot about a persons character can be understood by the way he describes his
surroundings, and a lot about a persons mood can be dependent on what kind of
environment is he surrounded by. It's a point further emphasizing the fact that a
stories progress should feel naturally progressive.

I'd also like to stress the fact that these things are nearly completely based off of
subjective opinions and taste. So we can discuss this for hours and hours and get
nowhere, or we can agree that we think differently and be happy about it.

And I would also also point out that this is not a final product, I post updates as I go
in this thread. I may completely revise the beginning, change some parts or others,
and I am certainly sure nothing is even close to being perfect yet. This is, after all,
as I explained in the top-post: "This is meant as a writing experiment and
I intend for it to be a non-profit project."

However, how does his face look like, is it a feline face? a rugged face? A strong jaw?

It was described as "tiger-like", interpret that as you will

The other, tamed and twisted by an absurd feminazi state, to the point of having a feminine design on his armor.

Not feminazi, just none-distinguishing, there is/was very little in the way of "feminine"
or "masculine" in that state, but elsewhere in the world there is. This is why the other
character, Ki'Je, describes him as feminine, or at least his clothing style as such.

And the story never mentioned that his armour was feminine, actually very little of the
armour was actually described. It was mentioned that he had a feminine "clothing style".
This doesn't necessarily mean his armour looks feminine.

This, again, is a point of realism. Why would a character whose seen this armour many
times suddenly decide to describe it in full detail to himself? That doesn't make sense.
But for narrative purposes, there will come a paragraph later where Rheein meets a
person who haven't ever seen him before, and this person may remark some more
on his appearance.

Rather than loose descriptions of events, dreams generally focus only on details.

It's not a dream, it's a flash-back, or more specifically "a vision". It is still not explained,
but these "visions" may not be entirely natural. That's why the nature of them are not
entirely dream-like or realistic in terms of dreams.

Summarized, it's an interesting start, although it feels a little dark, moody and slow.

It will have many dark, moody and slow parts, but I do intend to write bright, happy
and faster paced parts as well. The sub-title to the main title is, after all, "a vivacious
world".

Apologies for the rant.

Never apologize for ranting, I enjoyed reading your feedback, and it gave me some
ideas and you pointed out some interesting things I may want to touch up or revise.
Thank you for the detailed response. I love detailed responses as much as I love short
ones. Short responses are encouraging (given they are positive) where detailed ones
are often educational. An author-in-training needs both.

I've actually been trying to get into writing myself. I wonder if I should make something. Hm.

If you do, be sure to hit me up about it, I'd love to read it and return the favour of
reviewing and giving feedback!

And, again, thanks to everyone who decides to stop by and drop a comment, you are
the best

 

[Celaquil]

Update: Added the third of three sub-chapters that this first chapter consists of, you may wonder why I added the third and not the second one first,
and I'm going to be honest: It's no artistic trickery designed for some special purpose. The simple fact of the matter is that the second part is
currently lost to me. The only copy of it was on a memory stick that managed to break some days ago, but I will be able to obtain it, and when
I do I will get to work on finishing it so I can add it and be finished with the first chapter. I am sorry for any inconvenience and confusion this may
cause while reading. I hope some of you will read my third sub-chapter regardless and let me know what you think, if you want me to continue this
project, then know that I get most of my motivation in form of others, both via feedback and encouragement.

Thank you very much for all the support so far