|Act 2 expected later in the year.|
The New World: Chapter 6“A murder of the first degree”The New World: Chapter 6 by The-Monoblos
The month of August, year 1048 of the 2nd era, the grand city of Vimé, the capital city of the empire of the old world, and home to the Emperor.
Manuss looked into the faces of those gathered in the small room above the square in which Gimignano was being taken away after killing Mikke just moments before; Hassan and Lentz Allarror, Rolunn de Tchekkov, Zainsurra Sybban, Felde Grana, Rommun Pellinor and Bron de Terre.
“Hassan, Lentz and Rolunn, you’re with me. We’re going to move fast and light. Zaubsurra, Felde, Rommun and Bron; get back to the ship as fast you can, prepare her for cast off. As soon we four are done in the palace the city’s going to be swarming with soldiers.”
“Manuss” Hassan interrupted him, “don’t worry; we all remember the plan.”
The month of July, year 1047 of the 2nd era, in an abandoned house in the grand city
The New World: Chapter 5“A meeting with a battle surgeon”The New World: Chapter 5 by The-Monoblos
The month of March, year 1048 of the 2nd era, in the grand city of Rialto in the old world.
Gimignano squeezed the shot glass in his hand as hard as he could. It broke under strength and splintered into lots of little glass shards. The rest of the whisky dribbled out to the bottom of his hand and dripped to the floor.
He hurled the rest of the whiskey bottle into a wall at the far end of the room and stormed towards the front doors of the bank.
“Where are you going!?” Giorgio shouted after him. He did not get an answer and the door slammed loudly shut behind Gimignano as he left the building in a rage.
Giorgio was silent for a long time. He sat in his cushioned chair with half a shot glass left of whiskey looking at a painting which hung underneath the second floor balcony.
“The three horse-men of the apocalypse, and the one horse-woman” he remarked. [“Mae'r tri ceffyl-ddynion o'r Apo
The New World: Chapter 4“A meeting with Giorgio Farradan”The New World: Chapter 4 by The-Monoblos
The month of January, year 1048 of the 2nd era; on a bank of the south Daroline River, close to the town of Suralla.
A body washed up on the riverbank. Two more followed within a minute. A crow fluttered down onto the muddy bank from the top of a small outcrop of rock. It had been following the bodies for a few minutes now. A small soft-shelled crab which had made the riverbank its home quickly scuttled out from underneath of the bodies.
Two of the bodies were in body bags, though the bags had themselves been torn to shreds upon slamming into the river at tremendous speed from high up in the air. The third body had not however been placed in a bag.
Then, quite suddenly, as if out of nowhere, something happened. The third body, the one by itself, twitched. The crow was sure it twitched, and looked at it intently. Then it twitched again. The crow did not like that the body was twitching. It had been planning to peck th
The New World: Chapter 3“After the murders”The New World: Chapter 3 by The-Monoblos
The Month of January, year 1048 of the second era; Suralla
Gimignano sat on the stone spiral steps which lead up into the pulpit inside the small chapel. He held his head in his hands and, not for the first time of late, lay silent and mournful.
The door from he had entered the holy building was narrowly ajar and the faintest glimmers of the suns morning light were just creeping through.
There was nobody else in the chapel with him.
There had in fact been no-one with him, watching vigil as he claimed he was doing, throughout the night. He knew, inside, that he was not watching a vigil – he was just trying to get as much time to himself as he could.
The chapel was, all said and done just a simple, rectangular, brick building with no windows on one end of a small road. The tiled roof pointed upwards and was held up by wooden slats and a great deal of mortar – it was not too different from any other building in Suralla.
The New World: Chapter 2“The new continent & Her people”The New World: Chapter 2 by The-Monoblos
The month of January, year 1048 of the second Era; Suralla.
The sun hung low in the air. Outside the town of Suralla a carriage slowly crept towards one of the steel portcullis gatehouses into the city. The gatehouse was flanked by two, three-storey circular towers with coned roofs. The walls were built from a mix-match of stone mined from the north of the region, in the middle of the marsh where the Daroline River flowed down from the mountains. The slate tiles would have been transported in from the south, from Renn, in exchange for large amounts of money. Most houses in the city of Suralla would be tiled with slate from Renn.
Gimignano lay in the back of the horse and trap, looking up blankly at the golden-orange sky. He did not know that he had reached the town.
As the carriage neared the gatehouse a main in a chainmail hauberk carrying a long guisarme stepped out from one of the towers and walked into the middle
The New World: Chapter 1“At the Mansion House outside Rialto”The New World: Chapter 1 by The-Monoblos
The month of December, year 1047 of the second Era; near to Rialto.
A sparrow chirped in the darkness. It cocked its head to one side and ruffled its wings suddenly before jerking its head back up again and looked out into the dark night sky once more.
Across the canyon, on the face of the other cliff, loomed a grand manor house with many torches lighting it up at each corner. From where the sparrow roosted the entire face of the cliff could be seen. A road, if it could be called such, wound down the side of the cliff eventually meeting with the main highway to the city of Rialto at the mouth of the canyon below. At that intersection a blockade had been put into place, and from there a queue of four or five dozen grubby, dirty townsfolk were gathered. None of them were ever going to get in to the event at the manor looking as they did.
From the mouth of the canyon a dark figure slowly emerged; a horse clip cloppi
|Act 2 expected later in the year.|
C.O.W: Chapter 24Herrier's corpse stank at Tris's feet, his blood sticking to the death weapon of his sword. The death wound was plainly obvious, he had been dismembered. His head lay facing up at Tris in what could be clearly seen as a sense of anger. Herrier had probably thought himself invincible Tris mused He certainly wasn't expecting me. He sighed and allowed himself to relax just a smidgen as the soldier cut apart the other thugs who had been inhabiting the room. Behind a line of armoured pikemen commander's Moss and Havrason had seen Herrier's last moments. After not knowing it to be him at first they gathered and stood behind Tris's back, not recognising himself, as they saw the results of the nights work. Datria, Moss picked up on, was dead. He cursed, how now was he going to manuever the situation around Keila when he had to complete a full report for the king.C.O.W: Chapter 24 by The-Monoblos
"Justice is sweet commander Moss" Tris said out loud, Moss not recognising his voice putting him at risk of suspicion to the army le
C.O.W: Chapter 25 It had been weird, Moss thought, as they had came through the slums back to central district. They hadn't seen a single soul as they'd crossed the distance to the gates. It was scary almost, what if the revolution had broken past the gates? He looked around at the remaining soldiers he moved through the city with; he decided that every single one of them was ripe for a promotion, he would see it happen if he had to but first the king had to be aware of what had happened and he had to find what positions were open, surely fights had emerged with captains dying across the city. True to the message he'd received the night before the guardhouse had sunk into rubble by the gates and, as the convoy noticed, he had to explain to Tris. They'd been talking the entire distance; Moss had found that it soothed his nerves. Tris had wanted to know what had changed in the decade he'd been away. In return Moss had not yet had a chance to listen to Tris's story but he figured that if Tris hC.O.W: Chapter 25 by The-Monoblos
C.O.W: Chapter 26Tris, whilst he was pulling himself out of the bath water, heard a sharp rap at the door. Brilliant he mused the best possible timing. He looked at the clock and saw that it was after ten of the clock at night so, ironically, it actually would be the best possible time because at this time almost everyone was free to walk around doing whatever they so wished. Tris only hoped that meant go to the closest tavern so he could go aswell, not come to his new house and force him to be formal in greetings. He quickly robed himself and. Rushing down to the door with a towel over his hair so that he didn't splash water over his new floor he opened the door. Outside stood the king, queen Gaila, princess Keila and commander's Moss and Havrason, not to mention a bodyguard of ten men that even Harral thought was a bit over the top by any standards.C.O.W: Chapter 26 by The-Monoblos
"My we come in?" the king asked politely and, no matter how much Tris wanted to say 'No, I've just got out of the bath' to the king he knew the correct a
C.O.W: Chapter 27The great battle of the fields of Galamar city, early spring of the three hundred and fifty third year, sixth era of the world.C.O.W: Chapter 27 by The-Monoblos
'Hell's wall' was an underestimate. Ten minutes to dawn and arrows flew through the air, blackening out the last of the moon's dregs of light. It seemed like the blackest of blacks and then, after what seemed an eternity of waiting, it hit. Over five dozen soldiers howled out in pain and, across the line, it was clear why. Arrow's pierced into people's bodies in every possibly conceivable place; one man had lost an eye where he lay dead and another's claim of fighting two days with a shaft through his testicle hadn't worked. One man had become something of a pincushion. He'd been killed in the first incoming volley with a single arrow through his intestines. As the soldiers on the wall found themselves regularly without shields they picked up whatever they could, including the bodies of the poor corpses. He now had five arrows embedded in various places
C.O.W: Chapter 28Tris awoke, knowing not how long it had been since the last thing he remembered. The last thing he could remember was the world being turned on its head as a Drár-Krogír-Norné had came out of seemingly nothing almost ending the lives of every man on the fields around Galamar. It hadn't felt like it was actually possible there was some sort of warped reality that the world had reverted to making no-one safe from anything. He felt like it was more than just Drár that was loose in the world now. He felt there were other things aswell, lurking, in their own habitats. He could remember thinking that something was building from out of the clouds above Galamar but what? Whatever it was couldn't be good. Tris also thought he felt something nearer to him. Then he remembered that he'd crashed into ancient tombs, could something possibly be raised up from the dead? He didn't trust his thoughts on the matter and looked around in all directions for a light. It was so darkC.O.W: Chapter 28 by The-Monoblos
C.O.W: Chapter 29Keila stood silently behind the red curtain's barring the way into her father's conference room. The commanders had arrived back less than a candlemark ago; their armour was stained and bloody and they had spoke of terrible things. It seemed clear that they had not expected the fight to be quite like it was, she had not been told what exactly happened but she could suspect things. Commander Tris had not returned with Moss and Harral and they didn't seem to answer questions about his whereabouts no matter how she had phrased the question. Commander Tris intrigued her to say the least, Keila could only remember the man as a fighter before he had arrived back in the city: during her time around him in the war he had never spoken about being married or having children. Maybe, as Tris had lost his first son when he was only two months old, he didn't like bringing up the subject? Maybe he didn't think in quite the same fashion about the prospect as she did, granted her mind now firmly restedC.O.W: Chapter 29 by The-Monoblos
C.O.W: Chapter 30Gaila and her daughter screamed and bent down to see the wound for themselves. Moss pushed himself off the ground and, as a guardsman came rushing in, Moss grabbed at the man's sword and pushed him back, not trusting anyone. Another guard ran in their direction from the other direction and Harral disarmed him and sent him packing. The cultist lay dead on the floor, his dismembered head still rolling looking upwards at Tris. The enveloping golden light flickered and shot out in all directions around him and what remaining people in the court room that didn't have a reason to stay now charged out of the door trying to save their lives. The light around Tris was growing brighter and larger as more time passed; slowly he was being dragged up into the air aswell. Moss could see red lines flashing across Tris's body but couldn't make out what they were as they zipped out of his sight as soon as he saw them. An excruciating noise protruded out from where Tris hung in the air and Keila hid behC.O.W: Chapter 30 by The-Monoblos
|The Coming of War (2010-2011)|
Originally released weekly over 36 installments for a local magazine to where I live, now exclusive to dA. The first of three novels (of which the second and third are currently in storage on the site).
You Dont Have to ListenI cried over you that night. I know. It was stupid. Such a typical hormonal thing for a teenage girl to do. It wasn't the end of the world, you're just some stupid teenage boy, and I never expected this to go anywhere but I couldn't help but hoping.You Dont Have to Listen by CarolynNocturnal
No. That first month, we were fine; easy. We hugged a couple of times, you'd walk me to class, and whisper me goodbye where no one else would hear. Nothing too special, or out of the ordinary. And there's no telling how many times I was tempted to kiss you on your cheek, just once something enough to make you blush, but not enough for you to respond. You were too shy for things like that. You even invited me to your end of the year Orchestra Concert. I went, of course. Probably just because I was curious as to how that dark tux would contrast with your pale skin and bright, hazel eyes.
The last day of school was full of goodbye hugs, and 'call me's and 'I'll miss you's and that blank, unimpressed look on your face as I nervously mutte
The Problem with FictionIn a small basement room isolated from the rest of the world, a boy sits in silence, holding a book. Though curled up comfortably, he cannot relax, so enthralling is the story. His eyes jitter back and forth as he devours each line. Emotions play across his face as he lives through every moment of the plot, as he inhabits every character.The Problem with Fiction by Seltivo
The many hours that tick by do not see the boy so much as squirm. He is lost to a world of poetry and fiction, partaking in adventures incomparable to anything so mundane as reality. He journeys through fantastic realms, kept company by heros and cowards, jesters and villains alike. And though but a figment of his overly dextrous imagination, in this moment they feel more real to him than anyone he's ever met.
But all too soon, the story ends. The back cover closed, his world tumbles and shatters around him. With trembling hands, he sets the book aside and stands. He tries to ignore the painful nostalgia building in the back of his mind as he stumbles
|These could be from my 'world building', 'prints' & 'lierature' sub-sections of the favourites. The main faves folder goes without saying really. If you think you deserve to be here put up a link to it on the side and I will see where it fares amongst my faves.|
|As you may know I moderate for #WriteRoom and have put up many prompts for their visitors to work on. For your benefit here they all are, if any more come aling they shall be added to this here list.|
write a 2,000 word essay on the differences between the words there, their & they're, why? Because you're illiterate
Write a 2,000 word story on a day in the life of a chess piece, any chess piece
Write a 2,000 word story on how aspects of both communism and capitalism could change your life either for the better or the worse
You are in a high class dinner party but, leaving to go the gents room, or the ladies, a chandelier falls on top of you. In no less than 2,000 words describe how you get out of this situation and explain it to the host
You are falling down a never ending sinkhole, not able to get back up ever again in your life. In 2,000 words describe your feelings as you know you will never see your family/friends/loved ones again
You are a giant squid, living in the depths of oceans, one of the top predators in your habitat, but one day you wander away from home and, in 2,000 words, describe how you fare when coming up against other top predators of sharks and man'o'war jellyfish
The Mayan’s believed that the world is due to end on the 25th December 2012 (the best Christmas present ever (sarcasm)) but as all information they held has been destroyed we don't know how it is to happen. In 2,000 words write about the last day of the world
You lie in a bed, freshly cleaned and ready for you but it doesnt feel right, maybe its the countless wires sticking into your arm, the board on your right threatening to flatline or the really obnoxious nurse staring over you since the younger, good looking one went home after her shift finished two hours ago. Face it, you're in a hospital and you don't know what you've got
Squirrels, yes squirrels. The furry little critters, red and grey and killing each other. Recently though they have been fighting a war against the pigeons of the world, going so far as to Kamikaze bomb them from trees. The war between these two creatures, mainly considered vermin is your task to document as the sole thought of it takes up your entire mind. (Prompt added by *The-Monoblos)
Current Residence: York, North Yorkshire, England, United Kingdom, Europe, The World, Milky Way, The Universe ... you get the idea|
Favourite genre of music: 'old/classic' rock
Favourite photographer: Anyone who doesnt constantly shoot naked girls for publicity
Favourite style of art: Literature is an art form
MP3 player of choice: ipod
Personal Quote: isn't life shit
Sentara: Hanging Peace CH1 P2II
50 years later
Drayor was a young Daigen boy, merely eight. His fur was a snow white, save for a light gray streak running down his right arm, and eyes a dark blue.
He and another young Daigen were wistfully play fighting with wooden swords in front of the Church of Ferley. It was the youthful aspiration of most young males to become warriors, to fight on the front lines, be it against the Rouges, Humans, or any other creature that would challenge their honor.
The other Daigen was Dante Cakramo, he was one year Drayor's senior, his own fur was a light shade of brown, his eyes a darker shade. Dante's family linage was comprised almost entirely of warriors, and he looked forward with great anticipation to carrying on that legacy.
The two carried on their reenactment of the fifth war, Dante playing King Mavet, and Drayor a random foe, until the large brass bell ,boasted before the steeple, rang loud enough to be heard in the next village.
Drayor and Dante stopped and watched the double
Just to let you know - if you're here to comment 'thanks for the fav, view, watch, whatever' - DONT DO IT. It's incredibly frustrating, blocks up my inbox a little & will undoubtedly be marked as spam before too long. The comments I want to see here are critique or someone asking for a critique.
People who do it WILL be blocked from this page WITHOUT FAIL. If you think you are special and this doesn't apply to you then you are WRONG and an ever bigger fool than I anticipated.
Get the idea people!