it's a start...

[Seraphina]

The following is the opening few pages of a fantasy story I began writing last night. It's the sum of about half an hour's work, so it's very rough round the edges indeed.

The aim is to basically draw up a character sketch of the main character before they're introduced. My intention was so make an ethical statement that would, since they immedietly follow it, be instantly linked to them, and establish something about their character above and beyond simply introducing them.

In any event, here it is, yo

Whenever any large body of people came together in the usual gaggle and commotion that was nonsensically referred to as civilisation, there seemed to be established, as if by some instantaneous magic, a system by which those with the greatest material wealth were somehow placed at the peak, with those of lesser fortunes progressing in an ever spiralling decent into the gutter. This trend was evident in virtually every town and city in the world, as displays of obscene wealth seemed to be the yardstick by which respect was measured.

In any given centre of population, the grandiose houses of those as the top of this invisible structure were seen to be brimming with luxuries, servants, and far more food and wine than even the most obese human being could possibly gorge themselves upon. By comparison, the homes of those unfortunate enough to born further down the social ladder were treated to unsanitary conditions, barely enough food to sustain their vastly oversized families, and the pleasure of undertaking the most menial of occupations that would ensure they would never pool the finances necessary to improve their standing.

It was a time honoured system that was followed religiously and unthinkingly, and to question it was much like questioning whether or not the sun was supposed to rise in the morning. The fairness of it, based on the rather lost concept of justice, was certainly never questioned; at least not by those who benefited from such a scheme. It was the generally held belief that people were born into a station in life, a role that they were somehow destined or intended to play out. Any attempt to step outside of one’s assigned role was severely frowned upon, most notably by the elite at the pinnacle of this imaginary pyramid, who were so loath to share power, wealth, or station that they refused to even associate with those not of their rank in the intricate political structure that is, once again called with infinite irony, ‘civilisation’.

The definition of ‘civilisation’, of course, was a very open one. It seemed to simply be a term applied to any location a group of people decided was ‘theirs’, and proceeded to tear the surrounding landscape apart, consume resources with a locust like frenzy, and create anything from a handful of buildings, to a sprawling city, provided it was tucked securely behind towering stone walls that reeked of paranoia and ensured that anyone disagreeing the land was ‘theirs’ would have a very difficult time doing anything about it. Anything not following this description was dubbed backwards, and people who lived in a manner more open to their environment, regardless of culture, outlook, or beliefs, were instantly referred to as barbarians, and routinely slaughtered by those who were ‘civilised’. More often than not, these ‘barbarians’ were slaughtered because they were already occupying land that ‘civilisation’ decided was ‘theirs’.

And so it was that any body of land upon which life could be nourished would quickly dissolve into a vast complex of cities, towns and villages, each interconnected by a maze like network of roads and trade routes, each one following the same trend of wealth equating to station. This led, of course, to the pursuit of wealth being the primary goal of more or less every inhabitant of these civilisations and, provided you did not interfere in the affairs of anyone significantly richer than yourself, very little restraint on how you went about doing it.

For Shadrin Kain, this pursuit had been an extremely irregular one. With the potential for work varying with anything from the time of year to the mood of a would be employer, unemployment was a cesspool that many found themselves drowning in, let alone a young man who’s sole hope of being employed resided on the intricate interactions of the political mayhem that was ‘civilisation’. 

Young man was indeed the appropriate term, as Shadrin had only just embarked into his twenty second year, though there was a certain confidence in his azure eyes that may have misled the casual observer into believing him older. His handsome features, however, retained the freshness as youth, marking their owner with a smooth law line and strong, well defined features. His brown hair was unkempt, though trimmed short enough that it was merely somewhat scruffy in appearance rather than outright sloppiness, in a manner that suited him somewhat.

His skin was invariably tanned, due in part to his dedication to his particular profession in the intricate wheel of ‘civilisation’. Indeed, at a mere glance, from his broad shoulders and muscular arms, he was a man accustomed to physical toil. However, Shadrin was not a farmer. Nor for that matter was he a hunter or a trapper. However, to those studied in Shadrin’s art, his occupation would have been immediately obvious, merely in the manner he carried himself. Bold, confident, and proud; he was a man secure in his strength, and to whom respect was given not through wealth, but by the dangerous edge to every step he took.

For now, how ever, he was nothing.

Shadrin started at the rotten, termite ridden ceiling, and it started blankly back at him. It seemed to his mind that the longer his gaze lingered on the dark planks overhead, the closer they began to resemble the wriggled face of a rather repulsive old woman, scowling down at him as he lay, arms folded behind his head, on the thin scrap of cloth that passed itself off as a mattress. It did not take him long to decide he had a severe dislike for this particular old woman, and the termites that infested her, and were he not so limited in his options he would rather not sleep beneath her.

He was limited however, and was forced to make do with what his meagre assets could furnish him with. In this case, a single room in one of the countless roadside inns across the world. Shadrin had no idea where the road would take him in any given direction, and was content to simply remain in limbo for eternity until he started to see young, beautiful women in his roof, instead of aged hags. This may, however, have required far more ale than he could afford to buy.

His possessions were far from splendid. The room itself was furnished only with a bed, and a small wash basin in the corner. Shadrin’s personal effects were thus strewn about the room wherever their owner had decided to deposit them, such as they were. With the exception of the grey shirt that had once been white, and the black breaches he currently wore, he had been forced to trade many of his things to pay for his extended stay in this humble little inn he was now affectionately referring to as “the armpit of nowhere”.

And I'm just going to proceed from there....however, I would appreciate any early thoughts, in particular what I can do to smooth out what is, I assure you very deliberately, a sarcastic and cynical opening

[Daughter of the Nine Moons]

You did this all last night? Sera, I'm impressed.

Dot

[Seraphina]

Not all last night, just during half an hour of boredom. I have the most annoying habit of starting various stories, and then leaving them to rot the moment another idea for one pops into my head...since my hard drive got wiped last week, and I've not got about twenty different ones of the go to distract me, I thought I'd just pool all the ideas I'd had into a single story that I can focus on

[Daughter of the Nine Moons]

Not all last night, just during half an hour of boredom.

I am very seriously impressed!!

[Seraphina]

lol...while I won't deny that my head is positivly swelling Any suggestions you could make? Never pays to feed my ego without critisism, I get all big headed, and can't fit through doors n' stuff.

[snuffypuffer]

Umm, that was really verbose, the only thing I thought you could cut back on was the wordiness. And finishing out your thoughts, have you ever thought of outlining your stories before you start writing them?

[Seraphina]

have you ever thought of outlining your stories before you start writing them?

Yes, of course I have My comp of old was a massive hive of future plans, flow charts for plot, character histories to eventually be weaved into the story....but now it's all gone

As it turns out, the only novel I've ever actually finished was one I wrote on the fly

But be that as it may...the wordiness is deliberate, and is vastly toned down after the opening. As I said, I wanted to establish a feeling of character from the opening, to take on to the central character about to be introduced. It may not have worked....but I intended the opening to sound more like a narration of a person's genuine thoughts and opinions, rather than simply reading a passage (hence the dizzying vocabulary)

Edited July 23, 2004 by Seraphina

[Nxt2Hvn]

I too am impressed!

You definitely have a rare talent!! I am not good a writing anything ... much less a really good Fantasy Story!

Keep up the good work... and when you publish your first novel... I want an autographed copy!

[snuffypuffer]

Ah, I see, so the first part is a stream of consciousness rant type thing. Okay, works then.

[seventh_son]

Very impressive, I can tell you have a true gift for the written word! Please let me know when you get it finished and published, cuz it's really good!

Respectfully,

seventh_son

[doomgirl]

Not all last night, just during half an hour of boredom. I have the most annoying habit of starting various stories, and then leaving them to rot the moment another idea for one pops into my head...since my hard drive got wiped last week, and I've not got about twenty different ones of the go to distract me, I thought I'd just pool all the ideas I'd had into a single story that I can focus on

same thing happened to me