City of IF

[Tavanesh]

THE TALE OF STROM... Prologue


The air was saturated, not with moisture, but with a heavy hopeless feeling. It weighed down the boughs of trees, and scattered the petals of flowers until nothing was left but gnarled stems and broken grass. Every fire, including the campfire that burned at the heart of this dark night, was a little dimmer than one might expect. There was no music, there was no laughing, there was no dancing. There was only a nothing that weighed more than anything else ever could.

A faint snap of the fire eating away at a few pieces of kindling broke the silence, but not to any astounding degree. A young man, angry in his movements as most young men are, stoked the fire with a strong stick of Meavawood and sat back, taking off his metal helmet and placing his bitter head in his rough hands. He grunted as he stretched his sword arm, sore from recent use and then pulled his wool cloak tighter around his torso.

He had been running.

Not in any athletic sense, he wasn’t out of breath with a pounding heart, but his hazel eyes reflected a sorrowful feeling of a person whose only reason for putting one foot in front of another was to escape.

He picked up the sword from the broken grass and began to polish off the blood with a small tan kerchief from his pocket. Then he did the unspeakable. Something the saturated air had prohibited up to this point, he began to hum and sing a low grumbled tune.

“Daemon come before me,
Drink from my pool of life.
If you’ll just let me see,
My lovely, gentle-wife.”

“Awfully dangerous song to be singing on a night like this.”

The man jumped to his feet at this intrusion and held up the sword he had been polishing, holding it expertly in front of him. He who stood before him now wore a bedraggled set of clothes, nothing like the rich hide armor of the sword polisher. The only thing that off set his drab apparel was a billowing cloak of great splendor. It was a forest green, long and without rip or tear.

“What do you want? Step closer and I’ll stone yer eyes out!” the sword thrusted uncomfortably close to the man in the green cloak and soon found itself on the ground, detached from its owner who scrabbled backwards in dismay.

“I’m terribly sorry,” came the man in the green cloak. “I just really don’t like those things pointed in my direction. Every man has a right to defend themselves I suppose though.” He picked up the blade and handed the sword hilt first to its rightful owner. “As I said, that’s a dangerous song to be singing on a night like this. You could attract a true deamon.”

“I meant no harm by it. Just something I picked up in,” he paused trying to remember, “Ansley I think. I’ve been through a lot of towns recently.”

“Those bodies by the road four miles back. Your work, I’m guessing?” The sword polisher nodded. “Clean cuts, quick deaths. Good work. Someone needed to take care of those bandits,” he sat down on the grass by the fire and drew his magnificent green cloak around him. “Sit friend, I mean you no harm. I just seek a fire to sit by for the night. Can you spare me that luxury?”

The sword polisher nodded again, but remained standing, “Who are you?”

“Is it not courteous to supply one’s own name before asking for theirs in return?

“Matthew.”

“It is a pleasure to meet you Matthew, now please sit you’re making me uncomfortable.” Matthew did as commanded. The prior silence invaded the small campfire again and drowned out even the snap of burning twigs. The man in the green cloak simply sat incredibly still, staring into the flickering flames. Matthew shifted uncomfortably for several long minutes and then spoke up once again.

“Do you really think I could have attracted a deamon? I meant no harm really, it was just a song.”

“Songs are powerful things. They have behind them the power of poetry and music. However, I doubt your little diddy was enough to attract a deamon… at least not a large one,” it was hard to tell whether he was serious or perhaps just mocking.

“So who are you then?”

“Someone of little significance Matthew.” Matthew doubted that greatly as could be seen by the frown upon his face, a frown that was suddenly replaced with a wave of realization.

“You’re him! You fought at Gemsen…you led that battle,” he stood up accusingly. “We followed you… you’re Commander Strom.”

“As I said, someone of little significance,” repeated the man, at which Matthew grew angry.

“Little significance!? We followed and protected that name. Died for that name,” he walked around the fire and advanced on the green-cloaked man named Strom. “And you say it’s ‘of little significance?’ How dare you.”

“I dare what is true. That name carries weight of a war long over, and of repercussions deeply reaped. I’d prefer no one spoke that name again, it holds little value to the tongue.” Matthew drew in his chest and looked like he was about to say more, but then just sat back down on the rotting log and bent forward to cry, letting streams of his own auburn hair coat his face.

Before too long the sobs ended, and the silence was back. It lasted a long while and neither man dared to move against it until a windy howl broke through the dying trees.

“You owe me something,” said Matthew.

“And what that would that be?”

“A story. Your story… why you did what you did,” he stood up. “Did you think you could just open some gate and save the world? You led us into hell, and without a word of explanation. It’s long overdue…but maybe I can get some closure while I’m still on this earth.”

Strom said nothing. It was silent for a long while. Matthew began to think he had pushed a little too much, a little too far and then Strom spoke up.

“My story is not worthy of your ears, but if that is what you wish you shall have it. Sit, we have a long night ahead of us.”

[Tavanesh]

This is just the prologue so there is no DP yet.

[Tikanni Corazon]

Hey Tavanesh! :)

This is a really good start! I'm very much intrigued by what is to come, so hopefully it won't be too long till there's more. ;)


I found a few things that possibly need changing...

Quote: “You’re him! You fought at Gemsen…you led the battle of Gemsen,” he stood up accusingly. “We followed you at the battle of Gemsen… you’re Commander Strom.”

One too many 'Gemsen's' I think...But maybe wait on the opinions of others too, before making any changes. It could just be me. ;)

Quote: “As I said, someone of little significance,” at this Matthew grew angry.

Doesn't look quite right. I would put a full stop after 'significance' and have the rest be a new line of text entirely, or add a little more to the sentence. For example...

"As I said, someone of little significance," repeated the man, at which Matthew grew angry.

Quote: “And you say it’s ‘of little significance,’ how dare you.”

Similar to the one above. Question mark after 'significance' and begin a new sentence.

Quote: “Did you think you could just open some gate and save the world.

A question mark needs to replace the full stop.


Despite these, it's still a highly enjoyable prologue, and I can't wait for more! Keep up the good work! :)

[Thunderbird]

I'm not finding as much time to read on the weekdays lately due to some extra time at work but I'll catch up on this one this weekend. Looking forward to it! (and there are a couple others to catchup on then too that Im really looking forward to reading as well...)

[Tavanesh]

Thank you for the feedback Tikanni! I have gone through and made the edit's you suggested, they were very helpful and much appreciated. Hopefully I'll have chapter one with a DP up soon.

[Crunchyfrog]

A nice piece Tava, and good to see you back! I read it post-edit, and it looked smooth to me. Looking forward to seeing what you have got in store. :)

[Tavanesh]

Chapter 1

I don’t really know how to tell this tale. Beginnings are always hard. For example, when speaking of someone’s life where do you start? At their beginning? That would seem logical, but why not start later in life and skip all the dribbling and drooling. Or why not start before they were born and learn the tale of how they came to be? Yes, that seems right. If I’m going to tell my story, I should at least tell it right…

All children of Ansador learn three things when they are young. These three things alone created the unwritten code of acceptance among the Ansadorian people.

You learned how to fish, how to cheat at cards, and the story of Strahali.

My pre-conception follows these three lessons fairly well.

Fishing is a fickle sport. A lot depends upon factors hidden beneath a shimmering mirror that blocks your view. Besides, only humans and certain Fae would deliciate from wrenching a lorn creature, like a fish, out of it’s home to struggle in the open air. Nonetheless, my point lies not within the cruelty of fishing but in its futility. Go to an Ansadorian dock and you will see a line of boys and men with their lines cast out into the malefic water.

One will reel in a large fish.

One will reel in a small.

The others will sit there for the rest of the day and bring nothing home to their families for dinner. That’s what happens in Ansador, there is no disputing it. One family eats well, one family scratches out a living, and eight families starve. We were not a wealthy country seeing as most of the taxes went into the defense of the deamon border… which is another lesson in futility for another time.

My father was a fisherman of course, and my mother was a leywife. I can see by your face you’ve no idea what a leywife is. Well, in Ansador at that time a leywife made charms for the soldiers of the border that would protect them from fae powers. It’s a vapid profession, the damn things don’t actually have any power other than giving the men confidence. No man wants to fight a deamon without a little charm in his hands.

Well, my mother had produced four stillborns before me. Many believed her profession tainted her ability to give birth and she was readily shunned. Everything was attributed to some god or some magic. No one ever attributed anything to science. Nothing was reasonable, nothing was logical.

The only person who didn’t blame her for her maladroit birthing was my father… although I use father loosely. He chewed Stig Leaf regularly, a natural but weak contraceptive that didn’t stop the pregnancy, but stopped the birth. Of course he didn’t know that. The closest university that could have told him that was in Kaloam, hundreds of miles away. So, they continued as they were, childless. By the fourth stillborn my mother was numb and my father was non-chalant. Which brings me to the second lesson of all Ansadorian’s- how to cheat at cards.

Tellcall was the popular card game at the time. The rules were structured so you practically had to cheat if you wanted to win. My father played regularly at a local dockside table with a few fishing mates when the hauls were bad. They played a set of rules where you would cheat to knock other players out, and the last one standing would gain the pot. However, in a small bargain based community, players could buy there way back into the game by offering bribes to the players still left.

The town’s drunken vicar offered my father a leaf from across the deamon a border. A Fae leaf that he said could cure his wife’s ailment if he were to chew it. My father took that leaf and instead of his regular Stig leaf, chewed it instead. Needless to say, it was the absence of the Stig leaf, not the addition of the Fae leaf that caused my birth to be successful. However, the Fae leaf had other repercussions.

Nine months later, I was born.
________________________

What must Strom deal with when he is born? Does he have some sort of physical deformity? Is he altered in anyway? Do the the townspeople treat him a certain way? The answer is up to you.

[Tavanesh]

Hmm, is there something wrong with chapter one? Shall I go back to the drawing board?

[Shillelagh]

I suspect a lot of us are just busy. The spoken narrative has a nice voice, although it was odd to go from the detailed explanatory prologue to the stream of conscious dialogue that composed the first chapter.

There are some interesting spelling choices, demon/daemon/deamon and fey/fae, but I guess there's really no set rule there. I do love how you've described his home village as a small superstitious backwater.

This is a huge part of his background and his character, so I'm a little thrown as to why it's a DP. Espeically since I really don't even know what a Fae leaf is.

A physical deformity seems a bit... boring. I'd be all for something to be both potentially useful and a curse. Like, maybe he can see faint shadows of demon/angel/fey activity where a normal person would see nothing, turning him into "that spooky anti-social kid". Then there's the part of me that sees Fae=Fey, and wants him to have long blonde hair, pointy ears, and pale skin that shimmers and glitters when it is exposed to direct sunlight.

[Tikanni Corazon]

Hey Tavanesh!

Sorry it's taken me a while to get to this, and I can only put it down to forgetfulness. My apologies to you.

I really, really like your writing style! And the amount of information you get into such a short chapter, without it seeming rushed is pure brilliance! Very well done! :)


For the dp, I'm on the same kinda wavelength as Shille. My thoughts were for him to have gained some magical ability or something of use. From this part, from your prologue...

Quote: “So who are you then?”

“Someone of little significance Matthew.” Matthew doubted that greatly as could be seen by the frown upon his face, a frown that was suddenly replaced with a wave of realization.

“You’re him! You fought at Gemsen…you led that battle,” he stood up accusingly. “We followed you… you’re Commander Strom.”

“As I said, someone of little significance,” repeated the man, at which Matthew grew angry.

“Little significance!? We followed and protected that name. Died for that name,” he walked around the fire and advanced on the green-cloaked man named Strom. “And you say it’s ‘of little significance?’ How dare you.”


...one gets the feeling that Commander Strom is someone with a huge reputation, and one of possible greatness. That would suggest that he has an ability to do something that most people can't, or at least do it better.

I'm going to say that his reflexes and mind are quicker than that of the average man. When fighting with the sword, he can determine his opponents next move, and counteract it with superior speed and skill with his own weapon, and as such has gained a reputation for being a master of the art, a man to be admired and respected, and one that others would follow anywhere.


Looking forward to the next chappie, Tava! Sorry again for the delay in my reply.

[Tavanesh]

No worry, it is my fault for being a bit impatient. I have been busy myself, but thank you for the great feedback. I'm hoping to keep the chapters relatively short but sweet. Those are some good ideas indeed. I would like to start writing again soon, but I think I will wait for one more comment/suggestion.

I set this decision point up so the people playing could have a large say in the background of this character. This is something Strom will have to deal with throughout the story and I was hoping it would help the players feel more strongly connected to the character. So far I like all the ideas presented. Thank you so much Tikanni and Shillelagh!

[Thunderbird]

I'm going to say he grew up a weak runt with a strong spirit and he could not fit in well with the other kids who picked on him mercilessly, teaching him to be yet stronger still.

I really enjoyed this read all the way through. You set the tone nicely in the first portion with some of the most intriguing opening lines and it continued well throughout. I thought the Fae leaf reference was intensely clever. Nice going... very interested in reading more!

(sorry it took so long to get it read this far!)

[Tavanesh]

Don't apologize and thank you for replying. I've been reading through Heavy Metal by the way and I love it. Same with SparkleSteps, Tikanni. Unfortunately I have not read any of your stuff yet Shil, but I will soon. When I get to the end of each I'll post some comments hopefully! We have to bring this site out of the grave and prove that IF can be a tourist attraction once more!

[Tavanesh]

Sorry to double post. Poll is up!

[PopeAlessandrosXVIII]

I really like the way this is heading! Also love the strength of the DP I realy had to sit and stare at the poll for a while before voting. It really had me by the brain and heart. Way to go!

I'm bummed I didn't get here fast enough to get my own spot on the poll, but what is is. My vote choise is winning thus far, so I'm happy! Also, the perspective of the first chapter is really interesting, giving this tale a unique feel. Love it!

Can't wait to see more, keep it up!

[Lost Omega]

I really love this writing style, Tavanesh! The perspective you used was unexpected but I really flippin loved it! I'm glad the choice for vision into the fae realm is winning. That's an awesome power!

[Tavanesh]

Thank you everyone for the support.

I'll leave this open one more day and hop to the next chapter.

[Tavanesh]

How was Strom different from birth?

He can glimpse traces of the Fae realm adding a creepy layer to his vision and traumatizing the young Strom
66% [ 4 ]

He has incredible, albeit short, foresight. (Can glimpse a few seconds into the future)
0% [ 0 ]

He is exceptionally quick, intelligent, and powerful even by human standards.
16% [ 1 ]

He is a weak runt, almost perishing at birth, but he has an exceptional spirit.
16% [ 1 ]

Total Votes : 6
Who Voted: brokenblossom, Eshkaven, Lost Omega, PopeAlessandrosXVIII, Thunderbird, Tikanni Corazon

[Tavanesh]

CHAPTER 2 -INTERLUDE-

“Ansador?” Matthew’s voice broke through the weave of Strom’s story. “Ansador fell over eight decades ago.”

“87 years to be exact,” taking a small piece of travel bread out of his pocket. It’s hard crust was baked to keep in moisture allowing the bread to last several months before going stale. He broke it open on his knee and began to chew nonchalantly on a few grainy chunks he’d torn off.

“You don’t look a day over forty…”

Strom smiled and chewed quietly for a few long seconds. “Slow down Matthew, my friend. That’ll come later. We can’t ruin all the good parts of a story before we get to them.”

“How old are you really?”

“127.”

Matthew stared at Strom quirking his eyebrow up into the air harshly. After a few moments he broke out laughing heartily. It echoed among the dead oaks and bounced off of the broken grass. It scattered a few birds from nearby trees, and attracted the ears and eyes of a few wild life critters.

“You expect me to believe that? I asked for the truth and you feed me fairy tales. Be gone if all you can do is taunt me in this way. I thought I finally would have some answers,” spoke Matthew moving from casual disdain to irritation.

“You think I lie? Why, to spin some legend of myself?” Strom stood up revealing his imposing figure his eyes glowed by the light of the fire. “I’m not some petty bard selling the heroic deeds of the day. This is my chance to finally own up to the things I’ve done, to let someone know,” he advanced around the fire towards Matthew angrily. “I don’t lie, I don’t embellish. This is the god blasted truth that you asked for and that you are going to hear for there is no going back now,”

Matthew didn’t say anything, only reaching to touch the hilt of his sword. The silence would have again begun to take over were it not for the crack and pop of the fire.

Strom’s voice performed a duet with the fire.

“So, sit and listen. You can debate the truth of the tale anytime afterwards, but…just let me say my piece for now.”

[Tavanesh]

The above is not all there is to chapter two. It's just a little interlude at the beginning of chapter two, and the main part will be up in the near future. Enjoy this little taste of what is to come!

[Thunderbird]

T'was a good snippet at that. Loving the mood of this tale so far!