Prompt Number 2

You may or may not remember that a few years ago a friend of mine gave me a prompt to write about a unicorn and cerberus. Well, she gave me another prompt and so I do verily post it.


Prompt: Your character is walking down a bright mountain path when he/she sees something that will change their life forever.



Greg loved to camp out under the stars. His favorite place was on a mountain range near his home that most people feared to go into because of all sorts of stories like it being haunted by the ghost of a child who fell from the top and there being trolls deep in the caves. Gregory had spent the night there several times and had never seen or heard anything spooky to suggest a ghost, and he had personally explored every cave he found and there were never any trolls. There were all sorts of rumors and Greg knew firsthand that most were bogus, and he didn’t believe the rest since nothing had ever happened to him there. Yet still, most believed that there was something wrong with those mountains and that you should stay away from them. It was a long superstition that would persist no matter what Greg did, so he didn’t really try to convince people otherwise. It meant that he could have the whole mountain range to himself.

The morning found him heading back down the path back to his home. As usual it was deserted, but it was unusually bright. The sun was hitting the path in such a way that it was lit up like Greg had never seen. He had been on the path during this time of day before, but he had never seen this. He considered himself supremely lucky to witness what he felt was likely a rare occasion. Only it didn’t stop. It actually got brighter and now it didn’t seem to make sense that the sun was doing it. Greg began to be a little worried. This was not a normal occurrence and suddenly everyone’s superstitions about the mountains began to make more sense.

There was a bright flash and Greg was temporarily blinded. His eyes finally adjusted and it was still bright only now he knew why. There was a figure standing in the air and it seemed like the brightness emanated from it. It was a girl, looking to be in her twenties or so. She was wearing a long white robe and had massive wings which were spread out behind her. Each wing seemed longer than Greg was tall, giving her a massive wingspan. Greg thought that there must be something wrong with eyes, but rubbing them and blinking a lot didn’t change what he saw. There was an angel hovering in front of him.

Her eyes were closed and she was unmoving for a few moments which seemed very long to Greg. Then suddenly her head slunk back and she fell, landing on her back. The bright light diminished considerably and the angel again was unmoving, lying on the ground. It took a while for Greg to gather the courage to get closer to inspect her. It hadn’t occurred to him that she might be hurt, she was an angel after all, were they capable of being hurt? There weren’t any signs that she was hurt, aside from the fact that she had just fallen where she lie.

It got bright again, but not so bright that Greg couldn’t see and right before his eyes the angel’s wings slowly, feather by feather, disappeared. She all at once stopped shining entirely and it seemed awfully dark in comparison even though the sun was out. Now she was just a girl in a robe, which was still very unusual to see out in the mountains. Her breathing, which had been calm only moments before became haggard and her face paled. A blood red spot appeared on her robe and blood started pooling underneath her.

Okay, definitely hurt! Greg didn’t know what to do. This was partly because he didn’t know what was going on. She was hurt and needed help, he had to focus on that and ignore for now her strange appearance. He was too far from home to try and get help for her there. He had bandages and stuff in his pack; he needed to be prepared when camping out in the mountains. He grabbed them and knelt down next to the angel and froze. He would have to remove her robe to see the wound. He might not have hesitated so much if he hadn’t seen her appear the way he did. Doing his best to preserve her modesty, he opened a gap in the robe where the blood was coming from and saw a horrific gash. He almost couldn’t stomach the sight of it. He had seen wounds before, but there was something different about this. A dark smoke rose from it, almost as if it had been previously on fire, but this wasn’t a burn. The wound could have only just appeared, but this looked fetid, as if it had gone untreated for weeks already and the flesh on her stomach was rotting away.

Acting on instinct, Greg grabbed some healing salve that he was told was the best there was and applied it liberally to the wound. He hesitated to touch it, fearing that he might somehow be affected, but he had no choice. He was given this and told to use it sparingly and only in the gravest of emergencies, and Greg could think of no greater emergency. Then he applied bandages and might have gone a little overboard with the amount he used. He was amazed that he angel was even still alive and hoped that she would stay with him. He didn’t know what else to do. He was afraid to pick her up after seeing her wound and didn’t think she would be there when he got back if he ran to get someone.

He was still gripped with indecision when she started coughing. It racked her whole body and Greg was sure that it would kill her. Her eyes opened briefly and when she saw Greg he saw fear momentarily in her eyes, but it was gone quick, replaced with resolve. She managed a single word, “Water.”

Greg didn’t know if angels needed water, but he wasn’t about to ask and grabbed his canteen and held it to her mouth and carefully poured some in. He hoped that it wouldn’t make her cough again.

After she had a drink Greg just sat and waited, almost afraid to ask her anything even though he had so many questions to ask. She just stared up into the sky for a long time until she finally spoke again, “Where am I?”

“You’re in the Nacle mountains,” Greg said.

She didn’t respond and Greg wondered if that meant anything to her. He was about to explain a little bit more but she spoke again, “And who are you?”

“I’m Greg,” he said. “I was just walking down this trail and then you suddenly appeared and you were floating and then you weren’t and then you were bleeding!” Greg said this very fast, his mind going a little manic.

“Did you see?” She asked.

“Um, I saw your wings, if that’s what you mean,” Greg said.

The angel closed her eyes and sighed. “Then you are doomed to the same fate as I.”

That didn’t sound good. Her fate seemed to be dying in a middle of nowhere mountain range. That didn’t sound fun. “What do you mean?” Greg asked.

“Your witness of my true self has drawn you into a war that has gone on for centuries. You know of what I am, and so they will not let you live. You likely don’t have much time until they come to make sure that I am dead. At that time they will kill us both. It is too late to run, they will sense that you were here and track you down,’ the angel said.

She said it in very ragged breath and it took her a while to say it all. Greg didn’t know who ‘they’ were, but he didn’t want to find out, though it seemed like he had no choice. Running seemed to be pointless, so instead, “How long do we have?”

“Are you not going to run away?” the angel asked.

“You just said that it would be pointless, and there is no way I can leave you here like this,” Greg said.

“You will die sooner then,” the angel said.

“I’ll die either way. Maybe I can hold them off and give you time to escape or something,” Greg said.

“I am too injured to escape, or do anything, I don’t know why I am not yet dead,” the angel said.

“I patched you up and put healing salve in your wound,” Greg said.

“A kind gesture, you have my thanks, I’m sorry it will mean your death,” the angel said.

“There must be something we can do,” Greg said, not really caring for the hopelessness of the situation.

“We have an alternative, but it might be a worse fate than death,” the angel said.

“What is it?” Greg asked.

“If this were to happen, you would be drawn into this war that is without end and likely be forced to fight in it for the rest of time until death would mercifully take you. Your life will never have anything familiar in it ever again; you would leave your life here to fight in this battle. It is a terrible war, and I was ready for death, but if you have a strong enough desire to live despite this, then I will live and save us,” the angel said.

Whoa, that was heavy. Greg liked his life, and both choices seemed to take that away, either with immediate death or eventual death. Greg wanted to know what was going on and he didn’t want to die, but fighting some horrible evil or whatever it was that was coming for them didn’t sound like it would be worth the answers.

When the angel appeared it had become incredibly bright, now it became terribly dark. That couldn’t be good. “They arrive, what do you wish?”

Two dark blobs appeared that seemed to suck all light into them. After they dissipated two being were standing on the pathway ahead of them. Greg expected horrible demons or something, after all, what else would fight an angel, but they looked human enough. It was dark and cold however, and it seemed to be coming from them.

“What is this?” one of them said. “She still lives? Your aim must have gotten weak brother.”

“My shot was true,” the other said. “Look, a human is kneeling next to her, it probably saved her.”

“Your shot couldn’t have been true if a mere human could stop death from taking her,” the first said.

They argued for a while and Greg’s mind was racing the whole time. He didn’t know what to do. His options were terrible on either end. He looked to the angel and her once stoic face was fearful. “Which are you afraid of,” Greg whispered, “living or dying?”

The angel in a hushed tone said, “Dying.”

“Then what must I do?” Greg asked.

“Lean closer to me, to my face,” the angel said.

Greg did as he was told and the two who were arguing noticed. “Hey! What are you doing?” He said with urgency in his voice.

Greg got as close to her face as he could and he heard the two start to run for them and he thought he heard a fire start to rage. It was too late, they were both goners; there probably wasn’t time for whatever the angel needed to do to be done. There was time however, as it was a small act. The angel leaned forward with much effort and kissed Greg, surprising him.

The world went white in a bright flash and Greg, instead of blacking out, whited out.


So, I know that this is really cliche, but I couldn't think of any other way to do it. It was fun to write though.

And suddenly!

I'm back!

I see that I completely forgot to mention on my blog two years ago that I was going to be leaving for two years to serve a mission... oops. Oh well, I'm back and I just got bit by the writers bug and now I post what I wrote.

            After the creation of the world, when people were still new, they yearned for that Great God who had created them just as a small child yearns for its parents. There was an aching in all hearts due to being separated from the Great God. Eventually people discovered that becoming closer to the Great God would diminish the ache, and so the people would follow their hearts towards the Great God. They found that if they paid enough attention, their hearts would tell them where to go, they would ache less when walking in a certain direction. Soon thousands started a journey to find the Great God and remove the ache. They were all heading for the same goal and so there were huge groups of people all going the same way. Soon they all met in a single place where they discovered that they could get no closer and there a city was built. It became a thriving utopia. People seemed happier there. Multitudes flocked to the city in order to feel that closeness with the Great God and many found that they couldn’t bring themselves to leave after arriving there, while others came and went without feeling a difference, their hearts becoming numb and hardened due to being away from and then ignoring the Great God.

            Then came the day of the crying hearts. One morning all awoke with a terrible heaviness, a horrific anguish which dragged at their very souls. Alarmed, many traveled to the City Closest to the Great God seeking respite, but it was gone. There was no sign that it had even been there. In its place there was a waste where no life grew. It became a burden to stay there for too long, almost as if the land itself were weeping. Even to this day nothing grows there. There is of course no real record of what exactly happened, but most agree that that it seemed that the Great God had decided that he was done with the world and had chosen to leave it behind, but before doing so, stopped to bring with him his creations that were closest to him. In his absence, even the hardest of hearts cried out “Oh Great God, where are you, and why did you leave me here alone?”

            Today, all are born with an ache in their hearts as we long for that being that created us and hope that someday the Great God will turn and see the sorrow of his children and return to us. Yet hearts can still become hard and many do. There are not many today whose hearts still ache for the Great God and who wish his return, and so what hope do we have that he will ever come back to us?

Yep, there it is. I'll forgo asking what you think since I doubt anyone will see this for a while since it has been two years and I figure most have forgotten that this existed.

Four Days In!

So normally I would post on the first day my word count with an excerpt of what I'd written so far. I didn't have the internet yet on the first day, so that didn't happen, and I kind of forgot until now. :D

So interesting things about my NaNovel so far. When I started it at midnight, it suddenly decided that it wanted to be told from first person. I've never done that before, I always write third person with multiple perspectives, which is not going to happen here. It'll be fun to see how this works out.

In a desperate attempt to find a name for my characters, I searched all those name meaning websites for a cool name and none of them seemed to work and my character hated them all and I finally just told him to shut up, you're Roy from now on! So he's Roy. And the other is Dan, Dan was less argumentative about his name as well, but none of them were as good about it as Ari was. Ari was the first name I thought up for her, she loved it, and it stayed. This has reflected her personality I think so far in my novel.

Sometimes browsing the NaNo forums can be dangerous. I hadn't really planned far enough for anything bad to happen in my novel, but then someone in the forums was asking for ideas about something terrible to happen in their novel, I shouted out an idea, and then I realized that I loved that idea and am trying to find a way to implement it into my novel. Those poor characters. I'm not sure if I will do this, or if something else will happen, or if it will just be sunshine and lollipops the whole time, but I don't really want it to be the latter. My bad guys need something to do, and they love that first idea that I had.

I really should be writing my novel instead of this. Especially since I have been issued a challenge to have a higher word count than the person challenging me by Monday. I just need a sledgehammer to get past this minor barrier of a writing block (just a tiny one) and I'm good to go.

Just About Two More Days

NaNoWriMo is nearly upon us! I am super excited and quite scared actually. This is the least prepared I've ever been for a NaNo. Even in the first year when i didn't do any paper planning (I didn't jot down any notes) I still knew more about that story than I know about this one! Last year I had a similar scare in that a few weeks before it started I didn't know what to write, but once I found out what I was to write, I made pages and pages of notes. This year I have a concept, some dragons (always important), and maybe the first chapter vaguely outlined in my head.

Now I blame my general unpreparedness on everything that's been happening in the past month, a month I usually reserve for NaNo preparing. Foreclosure is my new least favorite word. Its gotten me down in the dumps, a mind frame that I am generally unfamiliar with. Then, to add to that, I've been all sorts of sick this week, and sometimes being sick gives me a great excuse to stay up and write ("Why aren't you sleeping?" "I can't sleep, I'm sick!") this time we've also been moving all of our stuff out while I've been sick. And this is probably only half of whats been on my mind! Needless to say, my NaNo Novel has been taking a back seat in a month where it is supposed to be driving.

Okay, that's enough crying. I usually get the pre-NaNo jitters. Two years ago it was the "omigosh I've never done this before am I crazy?!" jitters. Last year it was the "My plot is paper thin and I don't have nearly enough in it to fill up 50,000 words, I'm going to fail so bad!" jitters. This year its the "Oh crap, I haven't planned my Novel nearly enough! What am I going to do?" jitters.

I haven't had as much time to plan this novel as I might want. This is bad, but not word count threatening. I have proven in times past that I can fly by the seat of my pants, and often doing stuff like that adds great bonuses to my word count. So take that jitters! I strike you down with my sword of confidence and past experience! BWA HA HA!

I feel better now.

The Devil's Runner Chapter 2

So I know that its almost NaNoWriMo, but I wanted to get this little bit done before that started. And yes, all other Devil's Runner posts are part of chapter one, this post is the start of chapter 2. An interesting note, while I am usually a planner, The Devil's Runner has been completely by the seat of my pants. No planning has been done with this story so far, and I still don't really know who this Jenna girl is.

~

Jenna could tell immediately that something was wrong. She was comfortable for one thing. She normally woke on a cold stone floor; this was most definitely a mattress. That was another thing; she was warm instead of cold. Wonderfully warm. There was a wool blanket covering her. Jenna almost laughed at herself. She had become so accustomed to her cell that not being in it felt wrong.

Jenna’s eyes shot open. She wasn’t in her cell?! She slowly sat up; looking at the room she was in. It was a humble room with sparse furnishings, only a little desk in it besides the bed she was in. What really caught her attention was the window. She could see outside. It was so beautiful. She could see a little meadow out of her window and there were scattered flowers and what looked like a rabbit. Jenna turned her head and jumped as she saw an older woman staring at her.

“Up and about are we? Its about time, you’ve been sleeping there for hours and hours. I was getting worried I was.” The woman said.

Jenna found she couldn’t speak. She had no idea where she was or how she had gotten here or who this woman was and she found that she was terrified. She tried to remember what had happened, but she had done almost nothing but sit in her cell for so long that that was all she could remember.

“You’re a curious one child, I’ll tell you that. I’ll go and get you father and tell him you’ve finally awoken,” the woman said before standing and leaving the room.

Her father? How could that be possible? Hadn’t her father died the day she was captured? She was sure of it. Then what was going on? She didn’t think she was dreaming, she had never gotten a sound enough sleep in her cell to allow for it. So what was going on? Before she could really wonder and start to panic about her situation, the door opened.

“Finally awake are you? I suspect you really needed that sleep after what you went through.” The man in the door said.

It was that Devil’s Runner person. That’s right; he had tried to rescue her. He had succeeded at it apparently. Jenna almost stopped breathing at the thought. Could it really be true? Was she truly free of that terrible place? It was so hard to believe.

Poking his head into the room, the man who had carried her in the prison looked in and asked, “Is she alright?”

“Come and see for yourself,” the Devil’s Runner said.

The man walked in and shut the door behind him. “Are you alright miss? You seemed awful scared back in that pri-”

The Devil’s Runner put his hand over the man’s mouth before he could finish speaking. “That’s a secret remember? We’re a travelling family, not prison escapees.”

The man nodded and the Devil’s Runner removed his hand. “Sorry, I’m not quite used to that. Anyway, are you feeling well?” he asked Jenna.

Jenna was free! Of course she was feeling well. She could ever remember being this happy. Tears started streaming down her face even as she nodded a yes.

“Oh, why are you crying? Don’t be sad,” the man said.

“I believe that those are tears of joy, Dmitri,” the Devil’s Runner said.

“Really? Oh, well that’s good then!” Dmitri said.

So his name was Dmitri. Jenna finally knew what to call him. Through her tears she found herself staring at him and looked away with a hiccup. How did that always happen when she looked at him? “So tell us miss, what’s your name? We’re all quite curious,” the Devil’s Runner said.

Jenna opened her mouth, but then closed it again. She couldn’t speak, her voice was gone. She hadn’t spoken for so long, could that be why she couldn’t speak now? Jenna tried again, but nothing came out. She wanted to speak; she wanted to tell Dmitri her name and wanted to speak with him. Her tears stopped being tears of joy.

“She can’t speak,” Dmitri said softly. “Why can’t she speak, how are we going to find out where to take her if she can’t tell us?”

“Calm down,” the Devil’s Runner said as he unexpectedly left the room.

Jenna and Dmitri watched him go and then turned back to look at each other. They stared for a few seconds before quickly looking away, both blushing. Jenna wished she could speak; it would make this whole thing so much easier. She also wanted to learn more about this Dmitri.

The Devil’s Runner walked back in holding a quill, a bottle of ink, and some parchment and handed them to Jenna. “I assume that you can at least write?” the Devil’s Runner asked.

Jenna could remember how to do that, she was certain. She dipped the quill in the ink and started to write on the parchment. Her hand was shaky and her handwriting was worse of because of that, but she thought it at least legible. Jenna finished and showed them what she had written.

“What in the- what is this?” Dmitri asked, reducing Jenna’s self esteem by just a little.

The Devil’s Runner took the parchment and studied it a bit before laughing. “You’ve written this in High Rountasian. Haven’t you been paying attention to what language we’re speaking?”

Jenna had of course realized what they were speaking, Lower Gaddle-Speak, she had just written in her native language without really thinking was all. She had thought that everyone could read that language, she was apparently wrong. She motioned for the parchment back, but the Devil’s Runner shooed her hand away, “I can still read it lass. So your name is Jenna then?”

Jenna nodded and noted that Dmitri mouthed the word to himself. She motioned for the parchment back, intending to use it to ask some of the many burning questions that had plagued her since waking, but the Devil’s Runner shooed her hand away again.

“So, if you can understand us, and write in another language, then you’re definitely bilingual. That is a rare trait even among the high born,” the Devil’s Runner said. Jenna noticed a glint in his eye, and suddenly wondered why he was called the Devil’s Runner. “You must be a very important person indeed.”

The Devil’s Runner handed her the parchment back and she immediately started writing again, this time making sure to write in the correct language. She wanted to ask about them, but didn’t want to seem rude to her rescuers and asked instead what had happened and where they were before handing the parchment back to them.

The Devil’s Runner looked annoyed. “I was going to ask you something, but you finished writing your questions before I could ask mine. No matter, what happened is that this young man,” he motioned towards Dmitri, “was arrested and imprisoned for crimes that I committed in the Fortress Prison, which isn’t a fortress at all, and was locked away in the same cell block as you, lucky for you, since I was feeling generous enough to rescue everyone in that hallway. I broke you all out, it being made a bit more difficult with your hysterics, and we travelled to the nearest inn, which was still very far away, and have been waiting for you to wake before continuing. We are in the Deserts Reprieve, an Inn in a little village in Gaddlemont.”

Jenna had listened with growing horror. Not only had these people not come to rescue her, something she had assumed from the beginning, but they were criminals. But worse than all that, she was in Gaddlemont, a terrible and treacherous country that was more than one thousand miles from her home in Rountasia. Jenna slowly fainted.

NaNoWriMo's 10 rules and regulations (aka Commandments)

Some post on the NaNo forums talks about our own personal 10 commandments for NaNoWriMo. So yes, I'm stealing ideas twice over with this post :D

NUMBER 1!
Thou shalt not stare at the page for any longer than five minutes without putting words upon it! It mattereth not if those words are utter nonsense, just so long as they are written.

NUMBER 2!
Thou shalt be encouraging towards, and only slightly competitive against, those who are also participating in the National Novel Writing Month.

NUMBER 3!
Thou shalt not take a week long break like thou has wont to do in past Nation Novel Writing Month excursions. Such breaks only serve to add stress and a mad scrambling nearer to the end of the month. Seriously, don't.

NUMBER 4!
Thou shalt remember that there exist other persons in thy household who likely will wish to converse with thee and in turn inquire into thy writings. Thou shalt not ignore these persons, and often their advice on thy novel with be highly valuable.

NUMBER 5!
Thou hast a canine companion that requires sustenance just as much as thee. Thou shalt feed thy canine and also take it outdoors for walks.

NUMBER 6!
Thou shalt not be afraid to kill a character. Thou must remember that three character are essential and should still be alive at the end of thy novel, but all the rest may be treated as cannon fodder as thou seest fit.

NUMBER 7!
Thou shalt avoid that loud and overly large PlayStation 3 that is in thy possession until thou hast gone above and beyond thy word count goal. The same goes for the Wii. Thou shalt not give unto me that look.

NUMBER 8!
Thou shalt remember to remove thy flash drive from the computer upon finishing thy writing. Thou dost not want a repeat of prior incidents.

NUMBER 9!
Thou shalt not forget other personal goals that still bear great importance, even if thou art participating in National Novel Writing Month. Remember, time is quickly disappearing.

NUMBER 10!
Thou shalt write a remarkable novel, even if it needs polishing after the month is over.

That was funner than I expected.

Dragons in The Dragon Ambassador

I wasn't paying attention to the world around me today because I was tired, and while I was zoning out, an idea came to mind, and from that idea, I solved a lot of the problems I had with my novel. These are some of the notes I've made so far for The Dragon Ambassador.

Every magical race has a defining characteristic and an antithesis race. The antithesis race’s defining characteristic is the opposite of the other race. An example would be that Dragon’s characteristic is courage, thus their antithesis, the Shadow Serpent, are creatures of fear. In general, there is a race with a good characteristic and a race with an evil characteristic. There are exceptions, like Elves, who are creatures of boredom, and their antitheses, the Sugar Imps, who are creatures of Excitement, neither of which are evil.

Dragons:
Antitheses to Shadow Serpents, Dragons are beings of courage. They will never run from any situation and will often charge headfirst into them. Since they are huge fire breathing lizards, this caused some misunderstandings and humans came to fear dragons. They can only communicate with other beings that have an equal measure of courage, something that is very rare, and so they had almost no way to communicate with the people who were hunting them down. Often, if there was a human courageous enough, they would be hunting dragons instead of trying to listen to them. Hunted nearly to extinction, they went into hiding until there came a day that an ambassador could be found to speak for them.

Shadow Serpents:
Antitheses to Dragons, Shadow Serpents are beings of fear. They are constantly in hiding from the rest of the world. They stick primarily to the shadows, and as such, their eye sight has diminished, but their other senses have increased. They magically hold shadows to themselves, so that if they should venture into the light, they are surrounded in blackness and no real detail about them can be seen. They are shaped similar to dragons, but it is unknown how far the similarities go. Because of their extreme fear of everything surrounding them, they have developed a hatred for most things, but they are too scared to do anything about it.