crockdile
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| Joined: 17 Aug 2010 |
| Total Posts: 4127 |
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| 22 Feb 2014 09:09 PM |
*Into*
-The Two Faced story of a Legned-
It was night again in New Alexandria. The Waystone Inn lay in silence, and it was a silence of three parts. The most obvious part was a hollow, echoing quiet, made by things that were lacking. If there had been a wind it would have sighed through the trees, set the inn’s sign creaking on its hooks, and brushed the silence down the road like trailing autumn leaves. If there had been a crowd, even a handful of men inside the inn, they would have filled the silence with conversation and laughter, the clatter and clamor one expects from a drinking house during the dark hours of night. If there had been music ... but no, of course there was no music. In fact there were none of these things, and so the silence remained.
Inside the Waystone a pair of men huddled at one corner of the bar. They drank with quiet determination, avoiding serious discussions of troubling news. In doing this they added a small, sullen silence to the larger, hollow one. It made an alloy of sorts, a counterpoint. The third silence was not an easy thing to notice. If you listened for an hour, you might begin to feel it in the wooden floor underfoot and in the rough, splintering barrels behind the bar. It was in the weight of the black stone hearth that held the heat of a long dead fire. It was in the slow back and forth of a white linen cloth rubbing along the grain of the bar. And it was in the hands of the man who stood there, polishing a stretch of mahogany that already gleamed in the Arcadian lamplight.
The man had true-red hair, red as flame. His eyes were dark and distant, and he moved with the subtle certainty that comes from knowing many things.
The Waystone was his, just as the third silence was his. This was appropriate, as it was the greatest silence of the three, wrapping the others inside itself. It was deep and wide as autumn’s ending. It was heavy as a great river-smooth stone. It was the patient, cut-flower sound of a man who is waiting to die.
***Chapter One***
It was felling night; and the usual crowd of Arcadians had gathered at the Way-stone Inn. Five wasn’t much of a crowd, but five was as many as the Way-stone ever saw these days, times being what they were.
-Inductive was filling his role as storyteller and advice dispensary. The men at the bar sipped their drinks and listened. In the back room a young innkeeper stood out of sight behind the door, smiling as he listened to the details of a familiar story. “When he awoke, Castellian the Great found himself locked in a high tower. They had taken his sword and stripped him of his tools: key, coin, and candle were all gone. But that weren’t even the worst of it, you see ...” Inductive paused for effect, “... cause the lamps on the wall were burning blue!” Dystra, Proelio, and Versade nodded to themselves. The three friends had grown up together, listening to Cob’s stories and ignoring his advice.
-Inductive peered closely at the newer, more attentive member of his small audience, the smith’s prentice. “Do you know what that meant, boy?” Everyone called the smith’s prentice “boy” despite the fact that he was a hand taller than anyone there. Small towns being what they are, he would most likely remain “boy” until his beard filled out or he bloodied someone’s nose over the matter. The boy gave a slow nod. “The Vaktovians.”
-“That’s right,” Inductive said approvingly. “The Vaktovians. Everyone knows that blue fire is one of their signs. Now he was—”
-“But how’d they find him?” the boy interrupted. “And why din’t they kill him when they had the chance?”
-“Hush now, you’ll get all the answers before the end,” Dystra said. “Just let him tell it.” “ -No need for all that, Dystra,” Versade said. “Boy’s just curious. Drink your drink.”
-“I drank me drink already,” Dystra grumbled. “I need t’nother but the innkeep’s still skinning rats in the back room.” He raised his voice and knocked his empty mug hollowly on the top of the mahogany bar. “Hoy! We’re thirsty men in here!” The innkeeper appeared with five bowls of stew and two warm, round loaves of bread. He pulled more drink for Dystra, Versade, and Inductive, moving with an air of bustling efficiency
The story was set aside while the men tended to their dinners. Old Inductive tucked away his bowl of stew with the predatory efficiency of a lifetime bachelor. The others were still blowing steam off their bowls when he finished the last of his loaf and returned to his story. “Now Castellian needed to escape, but when he looked around, he saw his cell had no door. No windows. All around him was nothing but smooth, hard stone. It was a cell no man had ever escaped. “But Castellian knew the names of all things, and so all things were his to command. He said to the stone: ‘Break!’ and the stone broke. The wall tore like a piece of paper, and through that hole Castellian could see the sky and breathe the sweet spring air. He stepped to the edge, looked down, and without a second thought he stepped out into the open air....”
The boy’s eyes went wide. “He didn’t!” Inductive nodded seriously. “So Castellian fell, but he did not despair. For he knew the name of the wind, and so the wind obeyed him. He spoke to the wind and it cradled and caressed him. It bore him to the ground as gently as a puff of thistledown and set him on his feet softly as a mother’s kiss. “And when he got to the ground and felt his side where they’d stabbed him, he saw that it weren’t hardly a scratch. Now maybe it was just a piece of luck,” Inductive tapped the side of his nose knowingly. “Or maybe it had something to do with the amulet he was wearing under his shirt.”
“What amulet?” the boy asked eagerly through a mouthful of stew.
Inductive leaned back on his stool, glad for the chance to elaborate. “A few days earlier, Castellian had met a Frost Clan Member on the road. And even though Castellian didn’t have much to eat, he shared his dinner with the old man.” “Right sensible thing to do,” Proelio said quietly to the boy. “Everyone knows: ‘A Frost Clan member pays for kindness twice.’ ”
“No no,” Dystra grumbled. “Get it right: ‘A Frost Clan’s advice pays kindness twice.’ ”
The innkeeper spoke up for the first time that night. “Actually, you’re missing more than half,” he said, standing in the doorway behind the bar. ______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ More to come soon... If you wish to be in this story, PM me. |
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| 22 Feb 2014 09:11 PM |
| This is set during the start of VAK war? |
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crockdile
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| Joined: 17 Aug 2010 |
| Total Posts: 4127 |
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| 22 Feb 2014 09:14 PM |
| It's kind of set during a made up time, where everything about TGI is middle-ages, and, well, VAK is a bit of a legend. |
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| 22 Feb 2014 09:18 PM |
Middle ages?
When TGI started, it was a science fiction clan Then a steampunk clan,
With a mix of roman empire in it.
Ah well, its a good story.
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crockdile
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| Joined: 17 Aug 2010 |
| Total Posts: 4127 |
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| 22 Feb 2014 09:20 PM |
| I know that, but I'm doing a fantasy on it, kind of a Machina Arcadia feel. |
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Flammavir
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| Joined: 28 Jan 2010 |
| Total Posts: 18607 |
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| 22 Feb 2014 09:20 PM |
i was expecting a popcorn
thank god
SALAM. |
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crockdile
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| Joined: 17 Aug 2010 |
| Total Posts: 4127 |
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Dystra
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| Joined: 11 Dec 2012 |
| Total Posts: 9928 |
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| 22 Feb 2014 10:18 PM |
"-“I drank me drink already,” Dystra grumbled."
NEEDS MORE AMERICAN LESS IRISH |
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Gunmare
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| Joined: 19 Jul 2008 |
| Total Posts: 14610 |
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Kedabra
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| Joined: 24 Oct 2009 |
| Total Posts: 9802 |
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| 23 Feb 2014 12:18 AM |
"Middle ages?
When TGI started, it was a science fiction clan Then a steampunk clan,
With a mix of roman empire in it."
TGI has ALWAYS BEEN a sci-fi clan as we are set in the future tense, and we were more steampunk at the beginning when Castellian used the account, Brickster. It'd be nice if we had a clearly set theme nowadays.
@crockdile Also, I like where your story is heading, it really interests me and I cannot wait for you to release Chapter 2.
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| 23 Feb 2014 12:19 AM |
TGI is a thing, it exists while being and in doing so it is.... I'm not sure where I'm going with this. |
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| 23 Feb 2014 01:11 AM |
| I actually like this. Good, |
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| 23 Feb 2014 01:12 AM |
Tracking
going to read this tomorrow. |
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Ragkor
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| Joined: 15 Feb 2014 |
| Total Posts: 596 |
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Ragkor
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| Joined: 15 Feb 2014 |
| Total Posts: 596 |
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crockdile
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| Joined: 17 Aug 2010 |
| Total Posts: 4127 |
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Proelio
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| Joined: 30 Aug 2013 |
| Total Posts: 9449 |
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| 23 Feb 2014 02:53 AM |
| yay im in this. I like it, Crock. Good work! :D |
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| 23 Feb 2014 02:55 AM |
| LOL PRO IS A TRYHARD IN THIS STORY |
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| 23 Feb 2014 06:22 AM |
| I like how you added Proelio into this, seems like he's getting pretty popular. But to know a backdrop of Proelio, the man who trained me and invited me into the Guard. I feel I should belong too somewhere in the story. But it's very nice, has a great touch of personality on all the characters and great bold detail to back it up. I will read Chapter 2 most definately when you release it. |
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