Here we are on this fine Wednesday, and I would like to take us all back to the past for another venture with my ‘The Lost Writing’ series. But let’s get the usual out of the way shall we!
Creator Chaos.
Last week, I said we were recording Sunday and that I had hoped the new episode would be out by the time you read this blog, well I can happily confirm that Zack Brooks did his magic (Runes or Voodoo, he didn’t specify) and that Episode 4 is now online for you to listen to! Click here to give it, and the rest, a listen.
Just so you remember who you’ll be listening to:
Me – I don’t think I need to explain myself…
Kelvin Rodriguez – Fans and followers of the #vss365 tag will recognize this fellow and his creations, a master of the pun.
Zack Brooks – Author of the ‘Charlie the Cupid’ shorts and ‘The Trials of Amaford” novellas, the second of which is out today, so please look for ‘How Not To Be A Scribe’ and give it a read (and if a review, assuming you get the chance!) ! A great guy and the defacto leader of our rubble.
Pete Hartog – Author of the novel Bloodlines, and currently working on its sequel. A great guy with a great taste in music and a fantastic name.
Matt Brown – A fantasy author looking to make a name for himself with his Ancient Blood series and his Valkyrie story which he serializes in his blog every Monday.
Vector Unit Regen Orphan’s War
The latest chapter is now online at Royal Road, chapter 7 A Meeting with Melody. To give it a read, click here!
As per my new fortnightly schedule, a new chapter should hopefully be posted a week Friday. Next week I’ll be covering Vector Unit Regen as the main point, shedding some light on the origins of this series (hint: inspiration came from certain big machines as featured in certain animated stories from a certain country in the Pacific Ocean).
Brief Mentions
Liking what you’re hearing about Brennan and Riz? Click here to look at the short story collection of their adventures so far!
Looking for their newer stuff? Click here for their Christmas encounter with a Yeti, or click here for the anthology containing the short ‘A Walk Through The Pleasure Gardens’, get this one and you also get a whole host of brilliant short stories as well from fantastic authors.
Click here to find me on Goodreads
The Lost Writings: Ghosts…But Not As You Know Them
Today let’s flash the clock back to 2010, a mere nine years ago now. At this point I was talking to a friend, trying to hash together an online Roleplaying game for us to post in, wanting to create a good setting. We had managed to come up with an alternate timeline where the cold war of the 80s resulted in a nuclear war which more or less destroyed everything.
My friend was already at work putting this as the backstory for a story he was working on, and it got my mind racing at what I could do with a setting that’s a thousand years after the war that ended it all…Did I forget to mention that bit? Yes, the timeline for the RP would be a thousand years (this was never concrete though, I certainly can’t remember setting a date) after the nuclear onslaught, meaning the work was post-apocalyptic, just without the Mad Max style setting.
Instead, we went feudal, with a slight touch of modernism seeping through. My friend relished creating the whole series of events that led to this, while I pondered on what to do about characters. At this stage in my writing, I was still dead set on my Daemon Soul stories being the big ticket for me, so any other writing that I did, was connected somewhere to them and the characters (in a sense I still do this, as I regularly use Gabriel, the Daemon Soul villain in tweets almost weekly), I did but didn’t want this to be the same.
This setting was going to be darker, and I just didn’t want to rehash the main characters origins again, I wanted something different. I decided to turn things on their head. The following scene was written as a proof of concept for the character I was going to use.
To set it up, some teenagers have snuck away from the nice harvest festivities in the Village of Duskwald, near the Black Forest, so called of the pitch black trees that make it up. They have snuck out to try and find the villages legendary protector, the Daemon Soul. What they find…Well you’ll see.
--------
It was a tense moment and a shout cut through it with ease:
“You're surrounded my friend, there's no heroics to be had here, if you won't join us then we can't have you running around against us” The voice belonged to a man in a smart looking military uniform, all around him were soliders either in iron plate armour or simple dirt caked uniforms.
They were all armed with bolt action rifles with two even having prototype machine guns perched in front of them. Their target was a man in his late thirties and an 18 year old from the local village, who's wide eyed stare was captivated by the scene around him. All the older man had to defend himself was a ornate sword. He swept his cloak around him and addressed the commanding officer one more time.
“I will not help you, take my life if you must but you will never have my power” He got ready to strike, if he was fast enough he could hold the commander hostage, the cowards fear of death would be enough to end this little siege. It may prove unwise in the long run but for now it was a way out.
The officer tutted and was about to say something else when the elder man ran straight for him.
He never made it though. The sound of a revolver echoed throughout the dark forest and carried on into the night, and as the elder man coughed up blood he dropped to his knees.
“This is the mighty Daemon Soul of legends? Hah, your fast but I guess you couldn't outrun a speeding bullet. You are lucky though, my aim was slightly off, any higher and I would of hit your heart”
“Dastun!” the boy replied running to his side, he was stopped though by a hail of bullets that cut up the dirt between the two.
“Stay out of this...I'm sure the great legend can survive that...” The officer smirked, he wouldn't admit it but scenes like this turned him on. Dastun stood slowly and with his free hand grabbed the bullet wound.
“I thought you were going to kill me?” He said as he took another step forward. He knew that there was no way out of this now for him, his only concern was to get the kid out of here before something happened.
“Did you hear that boys? He's getting cocky...Admirable that you still try to get to me after a shot like that, but what do you hope to do? If you're going to act as a diversion so that brat can get out of here alive then your sadly mistaken...You're the starter, the village will be the main course and he's going to be the desert. If there's such a thing as the afterlife I'm sure you'll be regretting your choice to turn down our kingdom's offer” The officer pointed his gun straight into Dastun's face.
Dastun turned to face the young man and smiled softly and said.
“I'm sorry sir, I guess I wasn't able to carry on your legacy after all” He then charged forward with all the might he could muster. He barely made it three feet before the hail of gun fire tore him apart. The steel of his sword was shattered and his bloodied body crumpled to the ground.
“What a waste of time...Well gentlemen let's get back to the others and roast the village. We can get something to take back to the commander general...oh Trey and Douglas, see to it that the brat accompanies us, remember there is to be no witnesses to this.” The two soldiers sniggered and then left their standing to go and apprehend the boy who was knelt down by Dastun's dead body.
If they had looked closely at him, they would of noticed the glare of an anger tempered by a life of over a 1000 years. Douglas went to grab his shoulder when the boy spoke up to them.
“Who are you?” His voice went from being carefree and childlike to commanding and full of power. The solider was taken back, as was the officer who turned back to the scene.
“I'm the one who's going to kill you now if you don't come with us...well I guess you're going to die anyway but out of a choice between a quick death or my specialty then you're going to want to keep your trap shut.” Douglas said as he grabbed the guy's shoulder.
“You didn't answer” There was a large snap as the boy quickly reached up and then pulled Douglas's arm off his body, joint and all. The soldier fell back as his body entered shock, the floor below becoming enriched with blood. Trey almost fell over as he tried to get away, he rose his gun up and pointed it and instinctively fired. The boy easily side stepped the awkward shot. He then grabbed the gun and yanked it out of the soldiers arms and smashed it in his grip. He placed one hand around Trey's neck and then threw him into the amassed soldiers.
With a burning gaze he looked at the officer and with a venomous tongue he addressed the officer once more.
“I asked who you were”
“What on earth....Now this is quite the surprise, hmmm you may be a better catch then we thought, how about you join us, don't worry about that guy you ripped the arm off, he would of probably gotten himself killed anyway”
“No. I'll ask again, who are you”
“Maybe that last display of our power wasn't enough for you, so we'll see how you do with this” The officer gave the signal and all the soldiers opened fire, just like with Dastun. The boy then just brought his hand up and there was a faint glow and the metal bracelet that he was wearing on his right arm seemed to melt and quickly solidified into a new form, that of a ornate sword with a razor sharp blade. Armed with this weapon, he began to twirl it around, blocking all of the bullets. With astounding dexterity and speed, the boy emerged from the bullet storm unhurt.
“What did you do there? What kind of...of magic was that” The officer said in amazement, he had heard all the legends and the stories but what he had witnessed had surpassed them.
“That was not magic...It is far from the tricks and sights of hand your culture passes as entertainment. I used a technology never again to be seen on this blasted heap of a planet”
“A technology? From before the war?”
“No. From before mankind even stood upright. I'm done explaining things to you. You still haven't answered my question” The boy started to walk towards the gathered soldiers, in his head another voice was speaking: Go on, call my name and bring me forth, with our combined power we can avenge and put things right He ignored it and stared straight into the eyes of the officer.
“Who are you?” The boy demanded. Now everyone was getting chills down their spine, and they felt the dominating presence, and an killing lust that was almost unbearable. The officer backed off in fear, he cried out against himself, but couldn't overcome his instincts. He could only mutter what would of sounded like a fearsome reply.
“Kill him”
The guns blazed into life again as they all trained their sights at the inhuman being before them, like before though the Daemon Soul ducked and dodged, parried and reflected. He leapt into a crowd of nearby soldiers and killed them all with grace, the blade he carried dancing from artery to artery, severing muscle and bone. He jumped again to avoid more fire and continued his dance of death. The officer was now cowering till he felt the ground rumble, one of his men must of given word to the relief force that was supposed to be keeping watch at the village. A steel behemoth crashed through the trees, and what used to be a tank in the old language came trundling in, its main cannon primed and ready to fire. To the side of the machine were a couple of soldiers carrying the latest in heavy weapons, flame throwers. Regaining some of his composure the officer stood and brushed off the dirt, he would yet bring this monster to heel.
“Blast him into dust” He said point in the blood soaked Daemon Soul. The Daemon Soul returned the stare and was unfazed by the tank and the new additions. He finished off one of the wounded soldiers before focusing on the arrivals.
“Toys can't save you” As he spoke the sword started glowing and part of the metal decorations he was wearing on his coat melted and fused with it, changing its appearance to that of a large broadsword with an edge that seemed to vibrate intensely.
“A sword against a cannon? Fair enough, its your funeral”
“I've already had one, I think its your turn”
“You may fire when ready” the officer said to the soldier who had peeked his head out of a small opening in the tank. The machine roared into life and moved forward, the cannon being brought to bear on the target. If this was a method of intimidation then it was failing as the Daemon Soul didn't move and instead hefted his new sword with great ease and got ready to strike. There was a mighty explosion as the cannon fired, the iron ball inside being catapulted towards the Daemon Soul but as it neared the boy simply caught it on the flat side of the sword, all of its explosive force being absorbed as the blade began to glow a fierce red. With all of its energy gone and its momentum stopped in place, the iron ball fell helplessly to the ground. Then the Daemon Soul leapt out of the way of the flames that were quickly spread around him in an effort to contain him so the next cannon blast could have a good chance of killing him.
This didn't work though. The Daemon Soul swept his sword around him and put all the flames astounding the soldiers even further, some of the smart ones had now fled the scene altogether. With the path clear and the tank still reloading, he faced no opposition. With one swing of his sword he unleashed the pent up energy contained within and decimated the tank, reducing it to molten scrap. The sharpnel from the blast tore up the remaining men, even going as far as igniting the fuel pack of one of the flame throwers. The officer had managed to survive the attack, only barely though as his arm had been badly mauled by the blast. He was going to order a retreat when he looked around and realized that there was no one left to retreat. His day had started off so well, his mission was simple and when the older man had turned out to be just a simple person, then he thought it was over. Now his squad were just pitiful remnants.
The cause of this disarray was still standing near the wreckage spying over the last few survivors. The sword changed shape again, and parts of the surrounding metal pieces were also picked up as the sword became a gauntlet armed with a crossbow. With stunning accuracy he picks off the last soldiers scrambling to get away. A final bit of mercy he would be prepared to give that night.
The officer watched as the Daemon Soul turned to him, through the fire that still raged, he saw a demon, an angel of destruction. He reformed the sword and stood over the officer. The officer went to draw his gun up but the sword was faster and the officer lost his arm at the elbow. Then the blade went of his legs and the officer was forced on to his knees.
“You made a mistake today, you made me your enemy, I've done my best to stay out of the focus, I've hid for the better half of a millennial. Yet you bring me back you re-instate my bloodlust and why? So I can fight your pathetic wars? No. All you've done now is brought down my anger. So I'll ask for a final time. Who are you? WHO ARE YOU!” The Daemon Soul roared.
“I am Captain Kraven Mudorn, and you can't fight us....no you can't fight us” By this point the Daemon Soul was through talking. There was a few quick slashes and then the deed was done, the dismembered body lay still on the ground. His sword reformed into the bracelet. He returned to the body of his descendant Dastun.
“I'm sorry you were caught up in this, I had thought my bloodline had escaped this curse but it looks like I was wrong....” The Daemon Soul closed Dastun's eyes and then left the scene. He had to return to the village to stop any conflict that was there.
------
Now it’s important to point out that I called the protagonist a Daemon Soul, but I abandoned that a little while later, instead having him be what I called a ‘Ghost’. These were powerful beings that were created when a soul was brought back to life, in a new body. The powers stayed the same, with metal manipulation leading to some cool visuals.
Why did I change what the main character was? So I could kill the Daemon Soul outright, and have it form a crucial element in Aldo’s backstory. Had the storyline continued, it would have shown how the Daemon Soul died and what effect it had on him, and why he used the name again when creating folklore for his village.
The Ghosts were planned to be major antagonists for the RP, all of them born through acts of violence, and compelled to repeat it on others. There was problems of course, several ones that I never did solve to my satisfaction. They were bland and very similar to each other in what motivations they had. When I create characters now, I try to give them more depth and try to keep in mind what they would be like if they are real. With the Ghosts, they felt more like video game boss minions.
Aldo was lucky in that regard, as being the main character, he got more characterization by the virtue of asking why he wasn’t like the others (apart when you really upset him.). The RP fell apart not long after it was started due to real life issues, causing the story and it’s ideas to be abandoned, though I did try and write the prequel, but never progressed far in that either…
I did try to return to the idea a few years later, bringing in a new perspective, that of the Daemon Soul herself, fleshing out some of the time before the war, but I’ll share that piece some other time…
So at the end of all this, you might wonder why I shared this, and that’s because you never know when an idea may spring back to life. Never throw away your old work, don’t just assume that because something doesn’t click first time, it never will. Keep it and look back later, aside from cringing at what your writing ability used to be like, you may just see the spark of inspiration that caused you to write it in the first place, and with it, the seeds for a new story.
That’s all for today folks, remember, yesterday’s work, may be tomorrow’s masterpiece.
No comments:
Post a Comment