Sci Fi & Fantasy / Demon Gates - Alternate Chapter 1
Zaleef stood silhouetted against the pre dawn light as he leaned against the frame of the large window in his office. Before him, the tip of the morning sun peered over the rough horizon. Its presence cast a blazing trail across the dark surface of the Twin Lakes. From the south, a dark cloud front approached inexorably, marring the otherwise perfect sky.
Yet it was another imminent storm which clouded his mind.
As if on cue, there came a soft yet urgent tap at his door. “Enter!” he commanded. His normally strong voice cracked slightly, an indication of the stress he was under of late. He did not turn as the door opened. The swish of thick robes accompanied the novice who entered.
“Everything is in readiness Master Zaleef!”
With a pensive sigh, Zaleef turned away from the window and the beautiful sunrise. The novice stood in the doorway with his head bowed respectfully. He was young, barely past his twentieth year.
Young, for a Novice.
“The men are gathered in the hall, awaiting your arrival.”
Zaleef nodded. “Has Saratholeus arrived yet?”
“Yes, Master. Only moments ago.”
Zaleef sighed again. At last, everything was in readiness. He reached for his thick staff where it leaned against the wall. He was not as young as he used to be. Too old for this running around, anyway he mused silently.
“I will be there presently, Novice Jerome. You are dismissed.”
The Novice swept a low bow before departing. Not for the first time, Zaleef wondered at the future of the Novices, and for that matter, the school itself. The breakdown in communication with the patrol in Dak’mar portended bad news. If it turned out to be as bad as he expected, then it was likely that the schooling of the students, both of Lore and the Blade, would to be discontinued indefinitely.
His equipment was already with the men, so he quickly finished his last minute tasks. He left several warded letters for the other Masters should there be any trouble. He also made sure his chest of personal items was locked and warded. The shutters of the window he left open, knowing one of the novices would close them later. With one fond (but hopefully not final) look at the office which had been his for over four decades, he quietly left.
The hall was a short walk from his office. Its huge gilded double doors were thrown wide. Two armoured warriors flanked the entry. Both held gleaming halberds with silver pennons that flitted at the caress of a faint breeze. Neither looked at him as he passed, an honour befitting his station. He felt like commanding them to look at him, but did not, merely passing once more without word, without knowing even their names.
With a heart heavy, he entered the hall. His shuffling steps echoed through the room, breaking the silence of the three score men who stood within.
Three rows of lightly armoured warriors, all graduates of the Blade Academy, stood rigid before a large dais at the far end of the vaulted hall. Before the warriors stood another line of men, young Students of the Lore. Some were just out of Novice training, while others approached the end of their studies. Each was dressed in robes of various hue dependant upon their field of expertise. Each figure wore a heavy pack and none were unarmed, even the Lore Students who bore fine staves of dark wood.
Off to the side stood another figure, looking out of place. He wore woodland green leggings and a brown shirt with the sleeves rolled to above the elbow. Tall and lithe, he carried a long bow slung across his back. A quiver of white fletched arrows hung at his waist beside a slender sword. At his feet rested a small pack.
Zaleef studied the lone figure as he approached. The man was an Elf, one of the ‘long-lived’ as they were known to many. A usual life span for an Elf was counted in centuries rather than decades and years. His features were delicate, almost feline, dominated by large slanted eyes of emerald. His hair was long and golden, secured into a single tail by a silver ribbon.
He was a Traveller, gifted with the ability to use magical energies to transport himself or others over long distances. Zaleef could feel the inner power of the seemingly frail young man; young in that his features were youthful. In fact he was far older than Zaleef, who himself was nearing his eighth decade.
He was also the only Elf to have studied at the academy of Lore, learning all that he could from the Masters of yore. It wasn’t that the Elves were not magically gifted, far from it. Elves with the talent for magic were usually taken by the Sylvan Druids of the Elven city and given instruction in the traditional and almost rustic magic of their race.
Yet Saratholeus’ unique talent had led him to forsake his people and their magic in an effort to discover his true potential. He was destined to be one of the greatest Travellers to ever study and teach at the academy. Though he travelled far and wide using his talent for profit, occasionally he obliged and gave some classes when he had the time.
The young Elf smiled as Zaleef approached. It was not often that one found the Elvenkind anything other than gay. They were optimistic as a people, finding pleasure in merely being alive. Zaleef wondered if the Elf knew the importance of their mission, or the possible danger which may be awaiting them. Probably, he mused wryly. Of all of the races of Kil’Tar, the Elves were most knowledgeable in the lands’ history. It was likely that the Elf knew more about the Demon host than many of the Masters of the Academy.
“Saratholeus, it is good to see you again, my friend.” Zaleef managed a smile, though just. His thoughts were more on the mission than cordiality. The Elf did not seem to notice, however, and grasped the old Master’s hand warmly.
“Zaleef. It is good to meet with you again, though it would have been more pleasurable under less forbidding circumstances.” The Elf’s smile faded. Obviously he knew the implications of what had happened. At least he did not think it was just another job for him.
“Verily, Saratholeus. Still, let us not give up hope yet. It is not unlike some of the younger Students of Lore to miss a message or two.”
He did not have to remind himself that it was not just a matter of missed reports. The last message he had received from Faradhar requesting backup forces had been his last. That had been a month ago, and he had asked to be constantly updated on the Seal’s condition. Faradhar was one of the more experienced and reliable students the school had sent on the patrols, so it was not likely that he had forgotten.
“True. It could be an Essence imbalance. It is not uncommon in the south. The vortex of energies it creates can prevent messages from being sent along the proper paths. Hopefully it is so with Faradhar.”
The Elf seemed apprehensive, and Zaleef knew why. In times past, message links had been very unreliable. Major work over the last three or four decades had made them fail-safe under most circumstances, the exception being an Elemental Storm, and these storms were very rare. It was not likely that Faradhar’s flow could have been tampered with, and if it had, the student should have known, and established another link via a different route. The flows were of the Essence of the earth, the unseen power from which the world was created, and a multitude of these flows criss-crossed the earth like a fisherman’s net. It was the basis of the magic from which the Loremasters drew using spells, reshaping it for their purposes.
“There is only one way to find out, Saratholeus. How long will it take us to reach Mount Drac?”
The Elf paused for several seconds to recalculate the distances he had already formulated. “Four days with sixty men. At five hundred miles each jump, and with time to rest between, it will put us in the wastelands, some miles to the northwest of the mountain. I will be able to carry us in small jumps after that.”
Zaleef knew that to jump blindly into unknown territory was extremely dangerous, even for the most experienced traveller. Therefore, the first such pioneers had erected dozens of obsidian obelisks throughout the realms. They marked each with unique magical runes which allowed navigators to chart their paths, like waypoints. One only needed to find the desired obelisk to teleport safely to it. Even so, the strain of jumping with so many would be tiring and dangerous, even for Saratholeus. Thus the necessity for shorter jumps.
Still, it was faster than walking.
Zaleef excused himself to address the group. There was little need for speeches now. Everybody in the room knew what the mission required, along with its inherent dangers. None were there who were forced, and all were willing to face whatever dangers lay ahead.
“Form up around us. Remember, nobody is to draw on the Essence while Master Saratholeus casts his spell.”
The gathered men and women formed up around the Elf, who bade them draw in as close as they could to make the effective area smaller. Once they were all tightly pressed together, he addressed them all.
“Do not struggle or attempt to cast while we are travelling. You will feel a moment’s vertigo but it will pass quickly. Close your eyes if you like. It will make the experience less traumatic.”
From around his neck he removed a small silver talisman and grasped it firmly in his hand as he chanted. Zaleef recognized the object as a power enhancer, a somewhat rare artefact created by the earliest Lorewielders, which multiplied one’s ability to draw power from the Essence flows. Each person was born with an innate ability which could be enhanced with study and practice. Drawing on too much essence was dangerous in the extreme, but with an enhancer, one was able to draw more without added strain on the body. Many were the tales of Lorewielders, both Masters and Students, who had killed themselves and others trying to cast spells beyond their level of power. The Power Multipliers were thus a very valuable asset to those who manipulated the Essence, and came in many different forms, from weapons and armour to jewellery and ornaments.
Zaleef knew this because the academy had a chest of such objects secreted in a guarded vault deep beneath the school. He also wore one himself—a plain gold ring, the most powerful among the collection that he could find and use effectively. Some were linked to certain talents, like the elements or illusion or nature. He would have liked to know where Saratholeus received his, for obviously it was linked with travelling, and as such very rare.
After several minutes of silence, save the soft clang of someone’s armour, or the whisper of fine robes being brushed lightly, the image of the room before Zaleef blinked like a hasty shimmer, from light to dark back to light again. When the instant of darkness dissipated, they were no longer in the hall, but instead in a tree lined glade.
Awed whispers went up among the group. Zaleef turned slowly, scanning their location. As he expected, a tall obsidian statue stood in the centre of the lea. It was in the form of a well-endowed woman, rising atop a square brace of obsidian. He did not recognise the large runes carved in gold upon it.
It looked to be mid afternoon, if not later as the sun sank slowly towards the western horizon. Where it seemed to have taken barely a moment, the jump had actually entailed several hours’ travel. He would have to ask Saratholeus about the anomaly, though he guessed it had to do with their number.
He was unsure of their location, but Saratholeus revealed that they were in the Arkanth Mountains of central Ariakus. The Traveller proposed to be in the Empire of Zarn the following day, and after that, southern Dak’mar. The fourth jump would be made to an almost forgotten Obelisk northwest of the Mountain. From there they would continue in short, line of sight leaps to Mount Drac.
“Make camp! First watch up, second watch at midnight.” Zaleef’s command snapped the men into action. Within fifteen minutes of his order, camp was set.
Zaleef retired to his tent. It seemed even magical travel wearied his aging bones. He nodded to the two guards who stood without, and asked that warm tea be brought. Age and rank had their privileges as well, and for once he was more than happy to take advantage.
They reached Mount Drac late on the fourth day. Their first view was from a distance of fifteen leagues, but as they reoriented after the latest jump, the ominous mountain loomed over them. In the flat, barren wastelands, it appeared mysterious and unique, huge and forbidding with its rough surface and sinister appearance. It looked more like a volcano, tinged with a reddish-brown hue.
Most of the men became silent and withdrawn as they watched the mountain. Saratholeus rested briefly after the small jump. In the wastelands, calculating exact locations was difficult, and often needed a certain landmark, like an old stump or a large lock for guidance. As they waited, one of the Students of Lore, dressed in Orange, approached Zaleef, as he had each of the past four days.
“There is still no contact with Faradhar or the other men, Master. There does not seem to be any wards preventing my probes. As you asked, I have tried to determine if there has been a disruption in the Essence Flows, but I have found nothing to suggest it.”
“Thank you, Treil.”
Zaleef frowned as the young man departed. Treil was a Mentalist, a person capable of using the powers of the mind for certain tasks. He was particularly good at communicating with people, even over large distances. Thus, it perplexed Zaleef somewhat that he had not been able to contact Faradhar. It also added to the likelihood that something had happened to the platoon other than a faulty Message Flow. There was no hint of an Elemental Storm having passed recently, or if there had, it was not easily noticeable in the scorched and bleak land.
He met Saratholeus’ gaze. He knew the Elf had heard the message, despite the fact it had been meant for Zaleef only. The senses of the Elves were greater than those of humans, especially their vision and hearing.
The Elf’s features seemed wan and pale, though he still wore a crooked smile. He nodded, as if agreeing with Zaleef’s thoughts that things were definitely not well.
Zaleef nodded back, vowing silently that he would discover the truth behind Faradhar’s mysterious disappearance. In the past few days he had recalled all he could of the Portals they guarded. For some reason, the histories of the Lorewielders were vague on the subject, with most knowledge having been passed down from generation to generation. The Portals were known as Nexus Gates, and had been used before the War of Storms by the Demon Hosts to invade Kil’Tar. How they got there was more legend than history. Some said they were created and used by the Gods in the infancy of the Universe. Another myth proffered that they had been created by the early Lorewielders as a means to Travel not only around Kil’Tar, but also between worlds. Saratholeus would probably have more idea which was the more correct version, or even if the Gates were a feasible method of Travel and if so, why the need for the obsidian obelisks?
“Can you make one more jump?” he asked the weary Elf. He wanted to be inside the Mountain as soon as possible, preferably while it was still day, though it would make little difference once they were inside. The Elf nodded, but took several more minutes of rest and a cool drink. When he was ready, he motioned for them to gather again and cast his spell, his gaze fixed upon the distant mountain.
They blinked into existence less than a mile from the ruddy peak. Up close, they could see its unnatural barren shape. A huge archway opened a hundred feet above the grey ground. Steps were cut in a zigzagging stairway leading to it. The opening looked to be fifty feet in height but half that in width, with a narrow ledge where the stairway alighted.
Without being ordered, two patrols hastily spread out in a wedge formation to scout ahead. It was wise to be ready for anything. Zaleef glanced eastward and estimated that about two hours of daylight remained.
“What will it cost to answer the puzzle of Faradhar’s disappearance?” he mused as he followed the scouts, his stern gaze fixed upon the mountain.
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I thought overall this chapter flowed well, with the exception of a couple of spots (see notes below.)
I found the dialogue to be believable and effective.
I found the story entertaining. I think there is a good chance that I would buy off the shelf, but it would probably depend on what other books were there and how many I was planning to buy.
As for the plot, I think you give the reader enough to keep going. If the story is engaging, the reader will be willing to wait for explanations of things they don’t quite understand yet. You have struck a good balance.
I think the best thing you can do to improve this is weed out the extras words and tighten some of the sentences.
The opening line bothers me because this whole chapter seems to be written from Zaleef’s view point and you refer to him being silhouetted against the door. But, Zaleef would not be seeing himself as a silhouette against the door. This opening passage should be viewed through Zaleef’s eyes like the rest of the chapter.
“anyway he mused silently.” Delete silently. If there’s no quotation marks then the ready knows it’s silent. Watch the over use of adverbs. They should only be used if there isn’t any other way to get the point across. Usually a stronger verb will do the trick. If the meaning of the sentence doesn’t change delete the adverb.
“Master Zaleef!” Exclamation points are the equivalent of shouting and should be used sparingly.
“With a heart heavy,” It would be better here to show us what he’s feeling. Is his chest tight? Is his head down, shoulders drooped?
The long description on the Elf is great, but it halts the forward progress of the story. It’s better to given in little bits and pieces when the reader needs to know.
“Obviously he knew” Delete ‘obviously.’ Try to weed out all unnecessary words.
“Zaleef recognized the object” this is an example of where you use back ground info really well. They are Traveling and this information is important for the reader to know now.
“Zaleef knew this because the academy” You could start this sentence with ‘The academy.’ So far everything have been in Zaleef’s point of view. The reader will assume the information given is known by Zaleef.
“had actually entailed” delete actually
“and for once he” once, he
“features seemed wan and pale” Try to avoid using words like seemed. The Elf either looked pale or he didn’t. If it’s something Zaleef can see and this is his point of view then he will know. Also wan and pale are pretty much the same thing.
Thanks for posting, this was a fun read.
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Ok, I read your instructions so I’ll get straight to the point after I say this: I liked it.
Now, to the point.
“Dialogue: Is it believable and effective, not forced?”
The simple answer to this is yes. To each of those.
“Story: Is it entertaining, and if you weren’t here to nit-pick it, would you pay to buy it off the shelf?”
Yes, it is very interesting. It seems like a real page turner to me. I don’t read blurbs, I open a page and read it. If I opened a page of this I would definately pay good money for it.
“Plot: Have I thrown in names/terms/references which are vague or make no sense at all?”
No.
“Is it easy to follow what is going on and does it keep you guessing?”
As I said before this seems a real page turner and would keep me interested.
I hope this was concise enough for you.
Slán leatsa!!!
This is long, so no word-mincing:
Dialogue: None of it seems forced, but you could have more of it. Many of your descriptions/plotlines/conflicts could be conveyed through dialogue. It’s easier to absorb, less like just sitting there and being told.
Plot: Dude, I have Elves in my story--I love’em. But thanks to every fantasy movie out these days everyone knows them--long life, thin, bow-users, magic-using, blah blah. If they’re to be used, we must try to avoid using the cut-and-paste(to use your words)description of them or the reader will cringe at the word(like I did). Worse, your Elf fit into every single Elven stereotype. If they were real, you’d be accused of racial profiling. Change it up—or if he’s central to the story(as Saratholeus is) make his race different. Like a Dwarf or a Troll. Readers will be more likely to accept an Elf-like Troll than the same Elf guy they saw at the last party.
Love the teleportation/obelisk, idea.
Names: Does Drac mean something in another language? if so, specify. Since Mount is an English word, the reader is going to subconsciously look for English meaning in the following word. And I don’t have to tell you what they’re going to think when they read “Mount Drac”. If nothing else, change up the spelling; trust me, it goes a long way.
Story: As I was once told, you should find a way to convey information (about the Academies, Saratholeus’ talisman, Essence) other than Zaleef’s inner musings. It smacks too exposition-like.
Nit-pick: unless there is a large block of gold somewhere on the obsidian obelisk, the runes aren’t carved in it. They might be laid in gold….
Names: Ariakus? Dak’Mar? Empire of Zarn? Think about why you chose those names. All fantasy-sounding, cobbled from every fantasy story or D&D game you ever read/played. Took about a minute to come up with. You should try to spend more time coming up with richer, more unique-sounding names. They’re speed-bumps in the story.
Nit-pick: He was an Elf….long-lived…
He was a Traveller, gifted…abilities to transport…
Treil was a Mentalist…powers of the mind…
Say it now, describe it later--soon enough so that the description still has relevance, but not in the same sentence--especially if we kinda already get the gist of what the thing is by its name.
Your idea is entertaining and despite the tone of my review I like the world and do want to know what happens next. I hope I didn’t sound too toothy, but if I didn’t see promise I wouldn’t have written so much.
Firstly, I must state that my review will be based on my own individual taste. I have to say that because, in my own writing, I like to include plently of descriptive scenes, feeding the reader with ‘histories’ of what has led to the now. I find that you write similarly, and it is a style that I prefer, though it is one of the things that I get pulled up about.
Anyway, on with the review…
I have read part of this story in the past, up to the point were the demons emerged and I really enjoyed the piece. This piece is good, and gives us another viewpoint of the story.
There were only a few grammatical errors that I could see.
DIALOGUE – I did not find any problems with the dialogue, and thought it flowed well, and I also like the inclusion of descriptions (be it history, or the layout of a room, people, etc), that is interspaced between the dialogue.
The dialogue felt natural, leaving you with the impression that the characters are ‘thinkers’ first and foremost. Ie, you wouldn’t find them having a knees-up in a pub. To that extend the dialogue is short and crisp, and it fits the image that I would expect to this type of race of people to have.
STORY – I think the story is good and it could well be what I would expect to pick up from a shelf. There are only a certain style of fantasy books that I normally read, and this is close to my own preference. Particularly, after reading the scene with the attacking demons, and then this piece, I find it to be an interesting story, which I believe will pull me in deeper as I get further into the story.
PLOT – Again, you work in a style that I prefer. You will use names that may or may not be a place of great impoortance within the book, but whether they are or not, help provide the reader with more evidence that this is ‘another’ world that they are in. I think these are a ‘must’ in fantasy works, and are a hard ‘thing’ to achieve by the writer. You have to come up with names that don’t sound like they have been lifted from 50’s sci-fi, and they must not sound like names that we can relate to. I thought your own developed names were very good, and added to the story.
Very enjoyable, and I know you HAVE a brilliant beginning to your story and, if your journey is as good as the beginning, then it will be an excellent read.
This piece of work is amazing.
The dialouge flows extrememly well. I donnot get lost. The dialouge actually draws me into the story more, due to the way it is written and the way it flows. It seems as if you chose the perfect words, and placed them all in perfect places. The speech that the characters use is great.
The plot is great. From start to finish, I was so drawn in, it almost seemed as if I were there. You created emotional scenery. It definately keeps me guessing.
My favorite part is right at the beginning. When the wizard is getting ready for leave for the mission, I can actually feel his sadness? lonliness?. Great job.
Overall, this was very intriguing and went along nicely with the Prologue. Good placement of back story.
Some things to consider:
You never mention how many men/women are in Zaleef’s company. The number might come in handy later. For instance, it takes fifteen minutes to make camp. Also, what about provisions? Each person in the company carries a pack, but where and how are they to be replenished??
Too old for this running around, anyway he mused silently. There should be a comma after “anyway” just like after a end quote.
the novices Capitalize the title as you have before?
Each figure wore a heavy pack and none were unarmed, even the Lore Students who bore fine staves of dark wood. This is an uncomfortable sentence structure. What about, “Lore and Blades students alike wore a heavy pack and none were unarmed.”
just another job for him. the word choice is off compared with the rest of this piece. I would suggest a different phrase, more suited to the overall tone.
I thought this was very well done. The one complaint I had is that the ending seemed to spring up out of nowhere and I didnt think it was quite as definitive as I would have liked it. That’s just a matter of personal taste though and all the information you did include I found to be quite engaging.
Keep up the good work.
The dialog was not at all wooden here. It was more like a very maleable form of plastic. I found that you were able to bend it to suit your needs and you continued the action with brilliance and sheer dogged determintation. The pacing was also quite well done and by the time the story ended I was ready for meatloaf.
Astonishing!
Good try but you are telling more than you showed. Don’t tell us how they sighed, show us. The dialogue, such as it is, is ok. but it feels like nothing is happening, a lot of movement but nothing really that moves the story. Action without purpose is simply movement. And perhaps you have a purpose for it, but right now it feels detached. I am not easily able to read through it, and the word choice could be improved.
What I mean by that is, you are on the cusp of painting a very vivid picture using fewer words, this needs a good pruning. You can keep action going without even moving people if you do it right.
The language is a little too formal. It is jarring. Also, yes, you move people, but you haven’t really given us much info. You throw a lot of information but you ‘stop’ the action by having it be all monologue. I don’t mean that it should be one of those ‘for the audience’s benefit conversations either. Cut a lot of the confusing stuff and work it back in so it is less of an ‘infodump’. You are trying to paint a vivid picture and bogging it down with too many things. Concentrate on the story, you only need to give us about ten percent. How do these beliefs and feelings Make them ACT, what are their customs for prayers, and other things… Don’t TELL us about magic… SHOW us.
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