Sci Fi & Fantasy / To Punish A God - Chapter 2 (Analysis)

Chapter 2
The Novitiate carried the tray along the hall, the silver and plates rattling from his trembling arm.  He had never been so nervous but, then again, he had never been in the presence of the Archmage in all his years at the Academy.  
He’d spent his youth here, struggling with the hard looks from the others, living with his parent’s disgust.  It was rare for a human to enter The Elven Way’s mysterious world, rarer still to do so with the hope of becoming a Mage.  The other Novices had a joyous time teasing him about his name, calling him Jerret the Ferret, a play on his smallish size.  He grew to like the name and, in time, made it a mark of friendship and wore it with pride.
He’d had enough training to understand that magic wasn’t what the public understood it to be and that a Mage of the Elven Way was more priest than sorcerer but that did nothing to quell his awe of the Archmage.  
Jerret rounded the corner, making his way deep into the bowels of the Academy where the Archmage made his home.  He had never been this far into the keep but Belinda had given him precise directions and the keep, itself, was laid out in a very orderly fashion.  He noticed that the walls were made of stone that looked far older than the halls of his own small dwelling and he could sense power all around him now.  The medallion Belinda had given him to wear for this task allowed him to pass unharmed through the many wards that guarded the secrets of The Elven Way, kept adjacent to Archmage Perlic’s quarters.  Not, of course, that he could walk into that room.  He didn’t like the coldness that leeched into his chest with each ward he crossed.  He worried the medallion gently swaying against his uniform would eventually give him frostbite.  
Finally, he came to the Archmages parlor and entered as discreetly as he could manage.  The room contained surprisingly simple furniture, though each of the three sets of table and chairs looked quite comfortable.  There was a fire roaring in a large fireplace in the center of the room, open on both sides.  The table nearest the flames was occupied by two men.  The first was a largish Dwarf, with a permanently serious expression on his swarthy face.  Jerret had never in his life seen the man smile.  He was Captain Axethelm, commander of the Academy guards and sometime arms instructor of Novices.  Captain Axethelm preferred his two double-bladed axes, which he was never without, but could take most comers down with just about any weapon.  Novices feared him, Novitiates respected him and Mages called him friend, more often than not.  
Jerret almost dropped his tray upon recognizing the second man at the table.  Archmage Perlic was more than commanding, he was unconsciously frightening.   He was relatively short for an Elf, reaching just over six feet in height but he had a commanding presence.  His eyes held no pupils, filled only with a swirling sense of power, like dark clouds racing across the lens.  It was said that, when in a full rage, his eyes actually turned red, through and through, but few who may have seen it are around to confirm the myth.  His was dressed in the white robes of a Mage piped in red to denote his rank as supreme leader of the followers of The Elven Way.  He carried two blades, one was Binder, passed on from Archmage to Archmage over the last several thousand years.  Legend spoke of unknown powers residing within its steel but none but the Archmage knew what they might be.  The other was the blade he’d carried most of his life, shorter and completely unadorned.  The hilt was wrapped in worn leather, the blade itself holding no magical powers whatsoever; unless you count Perlic’s prowess with the blade.  It was rare for an Archmage to carry a blade other than Binder, but it was said that Perlic saw no use in carrying an oversized bit of jewelry over an honest weapon.
The two were talking quietly, sipping wine, waiting for Jerrets tray of meats, breads and sauces to arrive.  Jerret approached the table and silently, except for a few rattles, set the food down on the table.  He withdrew just as quietly.
“That one looked just a tad frightened”, remarked Axethelm.
“They always do”, replied Perlic, reaching for the loaf of bread and tearing off a chunk, “must be my charm.”
Axethelm stabbed a slice of meat with his dagger and added it to the growing pile on his own piece of bread.  His appetite was well known around the Academy and Perlic smiled to himself as he watched his friend stuff the giant mound into his grizzled face.
“So what of our alchemist friend”, asked Axethelm, “have you heard from him recently?”
“I haven’t heard from him, but I know he is nearing the end of his quest.  As you know, we Elves can sense one another if we are bound closely enough.  He is in some pain right now, but I get no sense of danger, just struggle.  He feels… determined.”
“Where is he now?”
“The last report said he was going to make his way to Blackcrest.  I’m sorry, Axe, I know you’d rather it were otherwise, but it seems something strange has been going on there.  The abandoned home of your father is once again active, to what end we aren’t certain.”
Axethelm kept his composure, but the thought of anyone gaining entry to his people’s home and enjoying the fruits of their centuries long labor left him cold.
“The wars will start again”, he declared.
“You could be right, Axe, but I don’t think many are even aware Blackcrest has been raised from its slumber.  Whatever is going on there, it seems those responsible are taking pains to be quiet about their business.”
Axethelm was not convinced and slammed his cup down onto the table, leaving a dent in the oak and spilling his wine.
“I want it stopped, Perlic!  That is our home! We carved it out of that damned mountain. We took the garbage land the rest of the races were so gracious to allow us to settle and we made it into something to envy.  They meant to crush us but after a thousand years of being harried off one land to the next, we had learned how to survive.  And they hate us for it.”
Axe jumped up out of his seat, his boots slamming on the marble floor as he paced.  He still had his dagger in his hand and he looked as though he were searching for someone to kill.
“They kept coming and coming…”
“I know, Axe.  I know.  It was an ugly time”, said Perlic. He felt for his friend, for the terrible pain he must bear, but it was neither here nor there in relation to the current predicament.  “This isn’t the time to let your old rage loose, my friend.  We need to concentrate on what is happening here.  Now.  Soon we will know what is truly going on and then we can act to free Blackcrest’s ghosts from this latest insult.”
Axethelm stopped and looked into Perlic’s flowing eyes, so strange to the rest of the world but familiar and comforting to Ace.
“So be it”, he sighed, returning to his seat, “my apologies for denting your table.”
“What’s one more dent between friends, eh?  Finish your lunch.  You can’t have possibly have found the bottom of your famous stomach already.”
“No, but it has found me.  I’ve no appetite for the comfort of food.  But the wine, that I will gladly drink the rest of this foul day.”
#
The first thing Arkinal noticed was that the dust was scattered by numerous footprints, many of which looked relatively fresh.  They were of no creature he could name, two five toed feet close together, two more that were much smaller but spoke of an amazingly long stride.  Between the prints was a thin line, suggesting a short tail dragging behind.  Arkinal drew Scorn and held it in a white knuckled grip, chilled into alertness by the strange prints.
There were four doors, two to a side, along the hall.  The first entryway opened onto what appeared to be the Queen’s onetime quarters.  He sent his globe ahead of him into the room.  The dust was undisturbed, the room empty apart from another gigantic bed and the remains of a tapestry on the opposite wall.  
He crossed the hall to the next room and found the office of the First Flame, head councilor of the king.  The bed there was of a more appropriate size but the desk, a magnificent piece built entirely of stone, took up one entire wall.  Upon further inspection, Arkinal realized it was carved from the living stone of Blackcrest itself; the skill required to do such a thing was beyond his imagining.  All surfaces were perfectly smooth under the dust.  When Arkinal swept it away, the stone gleamed.  It was breathtaking and he mourned the loss of such a skilled race to the ravages of hatred and slavery.
The other two rooms were much like the Queen’s, homes to the Prince and Princesses respectively.  All had been left alone by the strange creature that had walked the hall so recently.  The hall ended at an opening which let out into a strangely curved and narrow pathway.  There was room only for two to walk abreast, with drops into the depths of Blackcrest on either side.  The path led to a landing which ringed the stairwell, itself ringed by arrow slits and access doors to the cubby holes behind the slits where guards had certainly sat their watches.  All in all, a very good last line of defense against threats to the Royal Household.
A set of stairs ran down to the next level, twenty feet below, and to a hall that ran deeper into the mountain to the main keep.  The ceilings here were much higher, designed with visitors in mind, he suspected.  The strange prints continued to come and go throughout this area, as though the creature had popped in and out of existence at will.
Arkinal grew nervous and called a second orb into existence, larger than the first, and sent it ahead to dispel the shadows as he walked along.  The globe revealed a door halfway down the hall.  Arkinal made his way carefully to the door.  It was locked.  He rummaged in his kit for a moment and took out a slim case filled with tiny tools.  He inexpertly picked the lock, cursing his too honest life a few times before succeeding and pushing open the door.  The walls were completely covered in mosaics.  It was the first bit of color he had encountered thus far and he drank in the beauty of the display.
He had found the metallurgy lab, and was thrilled.  Metallurgy was cousin to his own skills and he recognized many of the depictions on the walls.  Over here was Brenlon discovering an alloy that was virtually rust proof. And there was Quafin, adding platinum to iron which created a metal for blades that could cut through magical defenses as though they weren’t there. Scorn was one such blade and its properties had saved Arkinal’s life more than once.
Arkinal walked around the room, a virtual museum of metallurgical history and again felt the pang of loss. How many advancements had been lost when the Dwarves had scattered?  Dwarves had done more to advance the knowledge of metals than all other races combined.  While its true they were responsible for arming most of the wars in the last several hundred years, it was also true that they had also figured new ways to build homes, discovered how to make the pipes that allowed gas lines to be run throughout the cities and some of the most beautiful art and jewelry in the land.  Such a waste. Arkinal reluctantly left the lab, and continued down the hall.  
He paused at a small scratching sound from somewhere behind, but saw nothing.  He turned to continue to the next stair when an explosion sounded above him. He dropped to the floor, thrusting Scorn blindly as he rolled. He felt something tug at his blade and a monstrous shriek echoed all around him as something wet covered him from head to toe.
He heard something hit the floor and slide down the hall, but not nearly far enough to give him comfort. He came out of his roll, and faced something out of myth.  It was much larger than a human, with leathery skin stretched over a muscular body.  Its eyes flared with malevolence and it let out another shriek of pain and fury.  Scorn had opened a gash along its chest and blood coated its short legs.  Its wings flexed but it didn’t seem capable of flight any longer, Scorn having cut deep into the muscles of its chest.  
Arkinal had heard of the ancient watch beasts of the Thrim but had never expected to see one alive, much less be forced to fight one.  Reflexively, Arkinal commanded the nearest globe to release all of its energy in a burst, bathing the Galumner Bat in a blast of heat.  The bat shrieked but was unharmed, and Arkinal watched in disgust as it rushed forward, using its winged arms to propel it into a surprisingly fast run.  Its alien face was biting at Scorn before Arkinal could react and it bowled him over onto the ground, raking his arms with its clawed feet as it went by.  The Elvish mail parted like cloth and Arkinal let out a shout of his own as his arm was opened to the bone.  He staggered back from the beast as it whirled around to finish him off.  He brought Scorn up and it stopped, respecting the platinum laced blade.  It rocked back and forth, looking for a way to avoid another stroke from the sword.  Venom dripped from its mouth and made a faint sizzle as it hit the stone floor.
#
Jenzee followed the man, she didn’t even know his name, out of the room and into a larger space, also walled in earth.  He led her to a table, bade her to sit, and then she watched him disappear into yet another room with a swinging door.
The table was elegant, with delicate designs worked all throughout the edges and going down the legs.  The chair she sat in was no less beautiful.  Strange things to keep in an underground room with no true walls.    She looked around the room, noting more beautiful furniture along the earthen walls.  Each piece appeared to be very expensive and elaborate.  One particular table looked very strange.  It was off in a far corner, shrouded in shadows, but was unlike anything she had seen before.  For one, it was the wrong height, its table top closer to chest height than hip, and it had odd extensions protruding from the sides and two of the corners, each about two feet long.  Beneath it she could barely make out knobs of what must have been a dozen or more small drawers.  Very strange.
She heard the swinging door open and the man walked back in burdened with a meal tray.  She could smell meats and perhaps, she hoped, biscuits.  There was a small pitcher on the tray and two cups.  He laid it on the table with a kind smile and set out some plates he removed from the china cabinet on the near wall as well as real silver ware for eating.  She felt giddy at her luck, forgetting the throbbing of her head, the scratches on her face and even how she had arrived at this strange place with this beautiful man.
He served her himself, laying steaming slices of meat onto her plate and ladling the most delicious looking white sauce over her biscuits.
She ate with abandon, forgetting her manners as she attacked the delicious array.  She had always been poor and had never before tasted food this rich.  The wine made her head spin a little, but in a pleasant way.  
“Thank you… thank you so very much, sir.”
“Believe me, it was my pleasure”, he purred, rewarding her with one his wonderful smiles.
He stood up, offering his hand, and led her from the table.  She followed willingly, in awe of the man.  She felt as though she were in a dream.  
He led her outside, and there she beheld sparkling plains leading from the woods around the cabin.  She didn’t remember ever seeing mountains from the city but it didn’t seem to matter.  The view was spectacular.  She followed him up a winding path lined with carillon bushes, their small bells tinkling in the breeze.   Occasionally, small animals would cross their path, seeming to wink at her as they went by.  She wanted to dance with joy.  How could she ever deserve such beauty?
#
Arkinal took a step back, wishing he had time to stop the blood flowing down his arm.  The bat was a deadly creature if the old stories were to be believed.  They never quit, never tired, and held in their horrific heads a cunning normally reserved for higher life forms.  They were said to be tame demons, biddable by those powerful enough to make the attempt.  Only the Thrim had ever dared to try for failure meant death and an easy meal for the Gulumner Bat.  
He knew he couldn’t outlast the thing, nor outfight it in the long run.  The exploding globe hadn’t even phased it but the globe was behind it when it went off.  Arkinal decided to take a risk and try to end this fight now, before he was too weak to fight.
He told the remaining ball to concentrate its energy into a pinpoint and strike at the bat’s eyes.  The bat shrieked once more, as its eyes were seared and Arkinal leapt to the attack.  He thrust Scorn under its jaw and up into its brain as the hallway fell into darkness.  The bat spasmed, its wings enfolding Arkinal, scoring his back through the useless mail with its claws.  It fell back, its feet trying to finish off its foe before it died, and gouged their way into Arkinal’s groin, leaving chunks of him in a bloody heap upon the floor.  Arkinal added his own horror to the things shrieks and fell beside the flayed pieces of himself on the cold stone, begging the energy around him to stop his bleeding as he faded out of consciousness.
#
Karrak was growing weary of walking the girl in circles.  His illusions were holding up nicely, her face set in an expression of wonder as she wandered the world he’d created for her.  He hoped he could keep her believing in the fall that was to come long enough for him to do his work.  
He glanced over at the plain wooden table where she had recently been sitting and suppressed a chuckle.  He wished he could share his little trick with his guests but by the time the joke had been played, they were too deep in their fantasy.  He had to be satisfied with keeping it to himself.  It amused him to serve portions of each victim to the next.  The brain lay on the platter, mostly gone, but pieces of it still lingered in pooled blood on the girls abandoned dinner plate.
#
Arkinal awoke in darkness.  His arm throbbed and his back was on fire.  His legs ached horribly but his groin was strangely numb.  He released Scorn, his hand spasming from having clenched so hard for so long around the hilt.  He ran his hand over his wounds, trying to assess the damage he’d suffered.  His finger slipped a knuckle deep into the furrow running the length of his bicep, but his back, from what he could tell, wasn’t too bad off.  His legs were also not too badly damaged but when his hand reached the top of his thigh, he found that he’d been mutilated horribly.  
With a gasp of fear, he quickly called up another globe, a feeble thing emitting the barest hint of light, but it was enough to see that he would never be the same, never again feel like a man.  He caught sight of the flesh nearby and emptied his stomach onto the floor.
“What price, Perlic”, he shouted to the walls, tears streaming down his face, “what price, to do your bidding?!”  
Arkinal grabbed up Scorn and crawled over to the bats corpse. He hacked at it, cutting into it over and over and over, sobbing and raging to himself. A new light entered the hall, pulsing.  Red.  It came from inside the Gulumner Bat.  Arkinal dug his way in and removed the beasts still beating heart.  He didn’t understand, but didn’t question either.  Perhaps, if the heart still beat, then there would be a way for him to exact a more fitting revenge upon the monster.  Perhaps there was a way to torture it until the end of his days.  
He wrapped the heart in a bit of the beasts hide and added it to his kit.  The thought of revenge made him feel a bit better and he resolved to finish this thing, if only to speed along the day when he could begin to get retribution from the beasts soul.
He found he could still walk.  Slowly.  Very slowly.  He wasn’t certain what awaited him down the hall, but it was something powerful enough to use the Thrim’s ancient guardians for its own purposes.  Arkinal centered himself as best he could and gathered more energy to him.  He reached out further than he had since training, convinced he’d need as much as he could possibly hold.  
#
Jenzee moved with grace, twirling under the blue sky, reveling in a feeling she hadn’t felt since she was a little girl.  She was happy, she was also falling in love as only a girl in her twenties could manage.  She knew nothing about him and she didn’t care.  He was beautiful and he was kind, he was strong, so very strong and he was showing her a world she’d been too blind to see from the confines of the city.
He stopped by a lone tree and beckoned to her to join him, his arms opened wide.  She ran to him, excited, hoping for the embrace he had so far refused her.  Her steps faltered a bit when she realized he was standing at the edge of a ravine, a river rushing past so far below it looked no thicker than a string.  But, he had promised to end her fears so, trusting his word, she stepped forward and allowed him to enfold her in his arms, relishing the feel of his strong back beneath her hands.
He kissed her gently and a thrill ran through her, coming to rest just below her belly. Yes, she truly loved this man.  He leaned forward and whispered into her ear.
“Now. Now you learn”, he breathed and shoved her out into space.
#
Blackcrest gave its power to Arkinal willingly, allowing him to craft his most powerful wards.  The air crackled about him, even the dust falling about him was incinerated as it tried to cross the barrier around his body.  He walked toward the door at the end of the hall, Scorn sheathed now for there was no physical fight left within him.  
As he neared the door he could feel a power beyond, something dark. Something vast.  The portal was unadorned and the wood of simple make.  Whatever he was about to meet, it had no fears, no need to secure itself behind heavy oak, iron or wards.
Arkinal shuffled the rest of the way to the door, anxious to finish his task and begin the process of healing himself.  He grabbed the knob, turned it and pushed the door open. Then he began to scream.
His wards were shattered as though they had never been and he heard his flesh blister and pop. Still he screamed.  His eyes bubbled and ran down his burning face, the fluid drying to ash before it reached his chin.  His skin flaked away and his muscles shriveled, tendons popped from the strain and he finally dropped to his flayed knees.  His screaming continued as his body crumpled, as Scorn flowed out of his scabbard and pooled on the floor with the puddle that had been his mail, as his jaw fell from his skull and his bones withered into dust.  His soul was shrieking until it, too, was turned to ash and Lord Arkinal, Alchemist to the Archmage, was no more.
A hand reached through the door, strangely large yet containing the eternal grace of the Elvenkind. It brushed away some of the ash and pulled away the still beating heart of the Gulumner Bat.  Then, out of the silence a sound arose, a sound so obscene that only the insane would have recognized as laughter.

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MisterP avatar General Stranger

May 17, 2008

MisterP

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streamwalker2001 avatar General Stranger

May 05, 2008

streamwalker2001

REVIEW QUALITY: 100.0%(1 vote ) personal info reviewer stats
streamwalker2001 reviewed Version 1 - Read 100% of the Item

Your writing reads a bit like a d&d game…  i bet you’re a player…  this is a compliment bym the way…

you’ve created a believable world here…  good writing…

your descritions are very good and paint a realistic picture…  your characters also have a realness to them – very good…

you segment ending are very good… especially the one that ends – ““Now. Now you learn”, he breathed and shoved her out into space.”

great ending sentence…

i’ve read many fantasy novels over the years and yours seems like a good one…  you’re weaving a wonderful world here – i look forward to reading more…

Jacamo avatar General Stranger

May 03, 2008

Jacamo

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andersda avatar General Stranger

May 03, 2008

andersda

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andersda reviewed Version 1 - Read 100% of the Item

Nice. This is an extremely well told tale that interested me enough that I would not only continue reading it, I would pay for the priviledge. The following aree things I noticed on my way through. Hope it helps.  
“open on both sides.” if it’s in  the center of the room wouldn’t it be open on all sides?
“with a permanently serious” vs. who wore a permanently serious
“Jerret had never in his life seen the man smile.” vs. Jerret had never, in his entire life, seen the man smile. or more simply Jerret had never seen the man smile.
“Perlic was more than commanding, he was unconsciously frightening.” delete unconsciously.
The next bit is unclear. The pupic of the eye is the ceter of the iris the dark clouds passing over the pupil would be so small as to be lost from any distance.
“through and through,” delete
“to confirm the myth” substitute “it” for “the myth”
“white robes of a Mage piped in red to denote his rank” vs. white robes of a Mage adorned with red piping to denote his rank  
“knew what they might be” vs. knew precisely all the power it might hold.
“wrapped in worn leather” If elves sweat the leather would be slippery in battle suggest you wrap with a few strands of copper wire of something similar that would enhance a swordsman’s grip.
“Academy and Perlic smiled to him” vs. academy, and
“again active, to what vs. active; to  
“crush us but after a” vs. us, but
“to survive.  And they” vs.  to survive, and they
““They kept coming and coming…” This whole bit is undefined. Unless you went over this previously, the reader has no idea what he is going on about. Where is the back story on this battle? It should ne a part of their discussion.
“You can’t have possibly have found the” delete one of the haves
“The first thing Arkinal noticed was that the dust was scattered by numerous footprints” vs. The first thing Arkinal noticed were recent numerous footprints in the dust.
“onetime” vs. one-time. There is an argument for the compound word, but the hyphen eleiminates the need.
“suggesting a short tail dragging behind” excellent point and observation
“size but the desk” vs. size, but
“Blackcrest itself; ” delete itself
“It was breathtaking and he mourned the loss of such a skilled race to the ravages of hatred and slavery” is there backstory to this?
“along the earthen walls” if they are deep in the keep wouldn’t this be native rock, but of course this is a scene change and it may not be an issue. Later you state it’s a cabin, but the wall reference makes it inconsistant.  
“city but it didn’t seem” vs. city, but
“carillon bushes” it would be even nicer if they played elfin melodies.
“It amused him” It amusem me too. Well done.
“his hand spasming from having clenched so hard for so long around the hilt.” vs. his hand spasming from clenching it for so long.
“badly damaged but when” vs. damaged, but
“If he could only walk slowly after removing the bats heart the difficulty he had doing the job might be expanded on. It soulnded like a snap.
“it had no fears, no need to secure” woiuldn’t it also be forewarned

Gaeltree avatar General Stranger

May 03, 2008

Gaeltree

REVIEW QUALITY: 0.0%(1 vote ) personal info reviewer stats
Gaeltree reviewed Version 1 - Read 100% of the Item

I hope you don’t mind that I didn’t read the first chapter, I wanted see how this stood as a piece of writing. Therefore some of what I’ll say might be rendered obsolete by your first or subsequent chapters.

I like how this chapter begins, however couldn’t help thinking that your second paragraph – He’d spent his …- could do with a little more ‘show’ and less ‘tell’. Unless of course, it is inimical to the story.

please note the line below:

‘He (Sic) worried the medallion gently swaying against his uniform would eventually give him frostbite.’

Right I have a objections to the following lines. Please note that I have only tried to pick up on those that I think are not just subject to my preferences.

‘There was a fire roaring in a large fireplace in the center of the room, open on both sides. ’ – makes for a very smoky room,  or a very small hall, generally  where do the flames go? I don’t want to be pedantic, but I really couldn’t visualise what you described here.

‘Novices feared him, Novitiates respected him and Mages called him friend, more often than not.’ – This is really a summary, it’s general and more than slightly clichéd.

‘Legend spoke of unknown powers residing within its steel but none but the Archmage knew what they might be. ’ – Guilty of fantasy-speak and not necessarily good writing.

I really like your dialogue, the conversation between Axethelm and Perlic is dynamic and does a fair bit of showing rather than telling.
I think you have to watch the phrases, they aren’t bad, but i’d encourage you to edit more.

I also really like the introduction of Arkinal. Most of what I would note is pretty much the same , fantasy speak and telling us instead of showing us.
I love the part about the lab but wish this phrase wasn’t there at all- ‘Scorn was one such blade’.
It’s great that the blade has a name, but I reckon unless it’s got it’s own personality, refer to it as a sword.
Also as soon as you identify the creature as mythical and where it’s from, the name should probably be in that same paragraph unless there is a reason for it to be further down.

Very nice little bit with Karrak, nice and chilling without being overdone.

Okay with Arkinal waking up, it’s not very realistic, i thought there was a reason and read on for a while, but really the kind of pain you’ve just put him through don’t tally with the paragraph you’ve written.

Basically the paragraphs with Jenzee are very good, the ones with Arkinal less so.

Cheers

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