(no subject)
Here's a small piece of my (still unnamed) NaNoWriMo project from last November. My productivity choked at 15k words, but I guess that's not bad for a first try with only a vague idea of what the text would be like. Still, it produced some little gems (at least in my opinion), like this one. Naturally, it could use polishing, but not too shabby considering this 2046-word passage was written in one sitting late at night. Yes, I tend to burn the midnight oil, but that is another story. Enjoy and please comment.
Chamwalla was a walled city, although nowhere as glorious as the capital. The wall was twice the height of man, quarter of that in thickness and mostly made of grey stone. Its gates were made of the local ironwood, and were the constant pride of city builders, even though none of the builders currently alive were even born when the gates were carved out of the tough wood, engraved with images of the city's founding myths. These were many in number, some of them obscured by generations of retelling and a few eradicated completely by the merciless Time. The founding myths could, despite their multitudinousness be divided in two groups, and the main features of these were presented in the city's both gates. The first, less poetic group of myth told that the city of Chamwalla was built long ago to protect these parts of kingdom from the roving raiders that were, at the time, a real threat to the throne. These raiders rode in large groups, which were commanded by the largest group of them all. At the head of this pack, the myth says, was the bastard brother of the then-king, who wanted nothing but to seize the crown. To achieve his goal, he was going to cause whatever instability he could, and led his raiders to wreak havoc in the villages. They pillaged and burned, robbed and razed hamlets to the ground. Men and children they ruthlessly killed, and women they took with them to serve as slaves. One manuscript tells that they used to amuse themselves by splitting into two groups who tried to kick the severed head of some hapless villager between marker stones they had set on a field, though no serious scholar believes this. The kingdom was held in terror for many a horrible year of raider onslaughts, until the king decided to build Chamwalla, a city that could resist the raiders. He gathered all able men from his kingdom and they built the city as fast as they could, not stopping labour even for the night. This paid off, and Chamwalla was built before the raiders had any knowledge of such a construction having begun. The riders tried to take the newly-built city several times, but couldn't penetrate it's ironwood gates and were pushed back every time, with the help of royal archers, who struck fear to grown men's hearts with their incredible accuracy and razor-headed arrows that tore away the flesh if one tried to remove them by force. The raider menace finally ended on the field outside Chamwalla when, after a prolonged battle, the king decapitated his wicked half-brother and raised his severed head as a sign of victory. At this moment the heavens were torn open with a deafening noise, and every evil man on the field was slain by a bolt of lightning. As the king rode back in silence, he was met by the first drops of rain in months, hitting his brow. The rains lasted three weeks, the skies pouring every drop of moisture they had onto the city, as if to wash away the blood that had been shed there. This was the story of Chamwalla.
The northern gate, however, bore on its dense surface a diorama of quite different kind. It too depicted the founding of the city, drawing its inspiration from the other arc of myth in the same way a poet draws his from the night, a goblet of wine or the bosom of a fair maiden. This other group of myths was the one scholars did not give much credibility to, but who, really, is to say what was possible and what was not, in those days. According to the myths, the founding of Chamwalla was the result of a divine initiative. The reason behind this initiative is shrouded in mystery, say the chronicles, for who mortal could know of the dealings of the gods. From what little information had seeped through from above, recollected the myth in an extraordinarily verbose manner, the hindmost reason may have been a bet or jealous rivalry between gods and goddesses. There is also the possibility that this is not the case, and the gods had another reason to build the city. Some have speculated that it was to prepare for a final conflict between gods and the devils that had challenged them. This view is supported by certain underlying tones in the narrative, but it is hard to say anything definite of texts as old as these. The most popular version, and the one depicted in the gate of Chamwalla begins with a love triangle. The young warrior-gods, twin brothers Kish and Kash fell in love with the same lady, moon-goddess Teryan. Like the second moon in the sky that is named after her, Teryan had two sides, two personalities, and there was consensus amongst the elder gods that she could not be trusted. Se responded equally to both brothers' attempts to woo her, toying with the brothers neither of whom knew not of the other's interest in the lady. So Teryan had two lovers, for a time. Eventually some of the other gods who had watched from the side this whole farce could no longer tolerate her promiscuity and sent Junuan, the Prankster to make an end of it. Unfortunately, Junuan was worthy of his epithet. One day he marched to meet the goddess while she was taking a bath, and told her she had to choose only one lover. She couldn't make the decision and asked Junuan his thoughts. Junuan said he was not the one to take sides and suggested she dealt with the problem by flipping a coin. Under pressure from the elder gods, she did this and chose Kish. Kash's heart was broken, when Teryan informed him they couldn't be involved any more. It was only natural that he felt worse when, after a few days, she announced the engagement between herself and Kish. It was then Junuan appeared before Kash, telling him the whole affair: that she had been stringing them both along, that the elders had wanted her to stop, that she had put her relationships on stake, willing to rely on the random whim of a coin. But Junuan didn't stop with the truth. He told the young warrior that his brother had affected her choice, that she had not obeyed the equality of the coin. At this, Kash was infuriated. Junuan had barely finished his sentence when Kash called upon his powers and struck him with a near-mortal blow. Wounded Junuan was left on the floor of Kash's abode as he stormed out, out of heavens, hid on the face of earth to plan his revenge. When the elder gods found Junuan, they pulled the stream of events out of him before healing their fellow god. Despite his weak condition, Junuan managed to keep to himself the truth of his false words to Kash. While others searched for Kash, Kash had decided on his revenge. Alone and unarmed, he walked into the underworld to make deals with the demons. In exchange of power to take down his brother, he agreed to open the gates of heaven for the troops of underworld. Kash intended to defeat his brother, claim his just revenge fulfilled, and turn once more against the demons. But his rage had clouded his mind, and the demons manipulated his will.
Strengthened with the unholy powers of the demon world, Kash returned to heaven and challenged his brother. For three days and three nights they fought, and while Kish was the more talented of the two, he could not hold down Kash's raw power and endurance. They wrestled and Kish had his brother in a full-body lock, and was considered the winner by everyone, when Kash tapped all of his demonic strength and broke free of the hold, snapping Kish's back in the process. Kish lay paralysed on the ground, and Kash was about to give him the final blow when the elders seized him. They had seen the change that had taken place in Kash, and inquired its cause. When Kash, in a fit of his demonic madness, spat on their faces, the elders decided to torture some sense into him. Eventually they managed to exorcise the demons from him, at the cost of his health. Leaving Kash to heal himself, they began building Chamwalla, a fortress between the heavens and the underworld to stop the demons from approaching the gates of gods. It was finished in time and instead of the open gates of heaven the demonic hordes faced the city of Chamwalla, filled to the brim with the finest gods could muster, assisted by the best of men they had asked to join this battle.
When the demons stopped outside Chamwalla, the gods stepped out to meet them, with now-recovered Kish at their head, eager to make up his former foolishness. He knew he could not match the elder gods in power, but he sure was going to try. Apparently unarmed, he walked to the lead demon, who demanded an explanation why he had not kept his promise. Kash accused the demons of manipulating him into a deal he was not willing to make and spat the demon in the eye. As the demon head ordered assault, Kash call upon his powers and arms, then with one swift move of his blade clept the demon in two before this had finished yelling his orders. Kash, his true warrior spirit fully with him proceeded through the tight ranks of demons, skewering them on his burning spear of cutting them down with his shimmering sword. Kish, only able to move his hands, assisted the others, hurling from the fortress burning stones that each flattened a dozen demons under them before exploding and maiming a hundred others. Among the other gods that fought the demons Kash had not slain was Teryan, cutting down demon after demon with her razor-edged steel fans.
The warrior gods did have one weakness. With every enemy that Kash slew he grew stronger and faster. His spear penetrated easier, his sword cut through solid armour as if it were thin cloth, and he fought with great frenzy. But the stronger Kash grew, the more confident of his own strength he became. And he had already destroyed many enemies. Kash grew over-confident, even careless. The demons noticed this and took advantage of it. Not prepared to deal with such cunning, Kash received the wrong ends of the demon blades before he could eliminate them. The remaining demons fled to their caverns, and when sun dared to show again, its light witnessed the remains of a massacre. The bodies of slain gods and demons, both whole and parts of them lay everywhere on the fields. Ground was covered with ichor and blood, and in midst of the bodies Kash was knelt. His wounds would not have worried him, but the demon blades had dripped with poison, and now the vile toxins raged in his blood, eating him from inside. The elder gods, who had stayed back and let the warriors deal with the enemy as was their wont, came and gathered their wounded. Healing would be slow, probably painful, but those who had not died directly from the demon blades would live.
Both Kish and Kash healed eventually, at least in some way. Kish walked with a limp and his back was no longer straight, and Kash could only move the fingers in his right hand, in addition to which his face was forever contorted into a mask of pain and drool dripped from his twisted mouth. They had settled their differences and were friends once more. But Teryan was dead, slain by the demons, and out of gratitude the gods set her to orbit the world, so that anyone who walked on the surface could see her beauty and radiance, forever travelling the night sky as the second moon. And Chamwalla still stands, the only monument remaining on the world of the days gods and demons fought an open war, and without it the demons might not have been repelled. This was the story of Chamwalla.
Chamwalla was a walled city, although nowhere as glorious as the capital. The wall was twice the height of man, quarter of that in thickness and mostly made of grey stone. Its gates were made of the local ironwood, and were the constant pride of city builders, even though none of the builders currently alive were even born when the gates were carved out of the tough wood, engraved with images of the city's founding myths. These were many in number, some of them obscured by generations of retelling and a few eradicated completely by the merciless Time. The founding myths could, despite their multitudinousness be divided in two groups, and the main features of these were presented in the city's both gates. The first, less poetic group of myth told that the city of Chamwalla was built long ago to protect these parts of kingdom from the roving raiders that were, at the time, a real threat to the throne. These raiders rode in large groups, which were commanded by the largest group of them all. At the head of this pack, the myth says, was the bastard brother of the then-king, who wanted nothing but to seize the crown. To achieve his goal, he was going to cause whatever instability he could, and led his raiders to wreak havoc in the villages. They pillaged and burned, robbed and razed hamlets to the ground. Men and children they ruthlessly killed, and women they took with them to serve as slaves. One manuscript tells that they used to amuse themselves by splitting into two groups who tried to kick the severed head of some hapless villager between marker stones they had set on a field, though no serious scholar believes this. The kingdom was held in terror for many a horrible year of raider onslaughts, until the king decided to build Chamwalla, a city that could resist the raiders. He gathered all able men from his kingdom and they built the city as fast as they could, not stopping labour even for the night. This paid off, and Chamwalla was built before the raiders had any knowledge of such a construction having begun. The riders tried to take the newly-built city several times, but couldn't penetrate it's ironwood gates and were pushed back every time, with the help of royal archers, who struck fear to grown men's hearts with their incredible accuracy and razor-headed arrows that tore away the flesh if one tried to remove them by force. The raider menace finally ended on the field outside Chamwalla when, after a prolonged battle, the king decapitated his wicked half-brother and raised his severed head as a sign of victory. At this moment the heavens were torn open with a deafening noise, and every evil man on the field was slain by a bolt of lightning. As the king rode back in silence, he was met by the first drops of rain in months, hitting his brow. The rains lasted three weeks, the skies pouring every drop of moisture they had onto the city, as if to wash away the blood that had been shed there. This was the story of Chamwalla.
The northern gate, however, bore on its dense surface a diorama of quite different kind. It too depicted the founding of the city, drawing its inspiration from the other arc of myth in the same way a poet draws his from the night, a goblet of wine or the bosom of a fair maiden. This other group of myths was the one scholars did not give much credibility to, but who, really, is to say what was possible and what was not, in those days. According to the myths, the founding of Chamwalla was the result of a divine initiative. The reason behind this initiative is shrouded in mystery, say the chronicles, for who mortal could know of the dealings of the gods. From what little information had seeped through from above, recollected the myth in an extraordinarily verbose manner, the hindmost reason may have been a bet or jealous rivalry between gods and goddesses. There is also the possibility that this is not the case, and the gods had another reason to build the city. Some have speculated that it was to prepare for a final conflict between gods and the devils that had challenged them. This view is supported by certain underlying tones in the narrative, but it is hard to say anything definite of texts as old as these. The most popular version, and the one depicted in the gate of Chamwalla begins with a love triangle. The young warrior-gods, twin brothers Kish and Kash fell in love with the same lady, moon-goddess Teryan. Like the second moon in the sky that is named after her, Teryan had two sides, two personalities, and there was consensus amongst the elder gods that she could not be trusted. Se responded equally to both brothers' attempts to woo her, toying with the brothers neither of whom knew not of the other's interest in the lady. So Teryan had two lovers, for a time. Eventually some of the other gods who had watched from the side this whole farce could no longer tolerate her promiscuity and sent Junuan, the Prankster to make an end of it. Unfortunately, Junuan was worthy of his epithet. One day he marched to meet the goddess while she was taking a bath, and told her she had to choose only one lover. She couldn't make the decision and asked Junuan his thoughts. Junuan said he was not the one to take sides and suggested she dealt with the problem by flipping a coin. Under pressure from the elder gods, she did this and chose Kish. Kash's heart was broken, when Teryan informed him they couldn't be involved any more. It was only natural that he felt worse when, after a few days, she announced the engagement between herself and Kish. It was then Junuan appeared before Kash, telling him the whole affair: that she had been stringing them both along, that the elders had wanted her to stop, that she had put her relationships on stake, willing to rely on the random whim of a coin. But Junuan didn't stop with the truth. He told the young warrior that his brother had affected her choice, that she had not obeyed the equality of the coin. At this, Kash was infuriated. Junuan had barely finished his sentence when Kash called upon his powers and struck him with a near-mortal blow. Wounded Junuan was left on the floor of Kash's abode as he stormed out, out of heavens, hid on the face of earth to plan his revenge. When the elder gods found Junuan, they pulled the stream of events out of him before healing their fellow god. Despite his weak condition, Junuan managed to keep to himself the truth of his false words to Kash. While others searched for Kash, Kash had decided on his revenge. Alone and unarmed, he walked into the underworld to make deals with the demons. In exchange of power to take down his brother, he agreed to open the gates of heaven for the troops of underworld. Kash intended to defeat his brother, claim his just revenge fulfilled, and turn once more against the demons. But his rage had clouded his mind, and the demons manipulated his will.
Strengthened with the unholy powers of the demon world, Kash returned to heaven and challenged his brother. For three days and three nights they fought, and while Kish was the more talented of the two, he could not hold down Kash's raw power and endurance. They wrestled and Kish had his brother in a full-body lock, and was considered the winner by everyone, when Kash tapped all of his demonic strength and broke free of the hold, snapping Kish's back in the process. Kish lay paralysed on the ground, and Kash was about to give him the final blow when the elders seized him. They had seen the change that had taken place in Kash, and inquired its cause. When Kash, in a fit of his demonic madness, spat on their faces, the elders decided to torture some sense into him. Eventually they managed to exorcise the demons from him, at the cost of his health. Leaving Kash to heal himself, they began building Chamwalla, a fortress between the heavens and the underworld to stop the demons from approaching the gates of gods. It was finished in time and instead of the open gates of heaven the demonic hordes faced the city of Chamwalla, filled to the brim with the finest gods could muster, assisted by the best of men they had asked to join this battle.
When the demons stopped outside Chamwalla, the gods stepped out to meet them, with now-recovered Kish at their head, eager to make up his former foolishness. He knew he could not match the elder gods in power, but he sure was going to try. Apparently unarmed, he walked to the lead demon, who demanded an explanation why he had not kept his promise. Kash accused the demons of manipulating him into a deal he was not willing to make and spat the demon in the eye. As the demon head ordered assault, Kash call upon his powers and arms, then with one swift move of his blade clept the demon in two before this had finished yelling his orders. Kash, his true warrior spirit fully with him proceeded through the tight ranks of demons, skewering them on his burning spear of cutting them down with his shimmering sword. Kish, only able to move his hands, assisted the others, hurling from the fortress burning stones that each flattened a dozen demons under them before exploding and maiming a hundred others. Among the other gods that fought the demons Kash had not slain was Teryan, cutting down demon after demon with her razor-edged steel fans.
The warrior gods did have one weakness. With every enemy that Kash slew he grew stronger and faster. His spear penetrated easier, his sword cut through solid armour as if it were thin cloth, and he fought with great frenzy. But the stronger Kash grew, the more confident of his own strength he became. And he had already destroyed many enemies. Kash grew over-confident, even careless. The demons noticed this and took advantage of it. Not prepared to deal with such cunning, Kash received the wrong ends of the demon blades before he could eliminate them. The remaining demons fled to their caverns, and when sun dared to show again, its light witnessed the remains of a massacre. The bodies of slain gods and demons, both whole and parts of them lay everywhere on the fields. Ground was covered with ichor and blood, and in midst of the bodies Kash was knelt. His wounds would not have worried him, but the demon blades had dripped with poison, and now the vile toxins raged in his blood, eating him from inside. The elder gods, who had stayed back and let the warriors deal with the enemy as was their wont, came and gathered their wounded. Healing would be slow, probably painful, but those who had not died directly from the demon blades would live.
Both Kish and Kash healed eventually, at least in some way. Kish walked with a limp and his back was no longer straight, and Kash could only move the fingers in his right hand, in addition to which his face was forever contorted into a mask of pain and drool dripped from his twisted mouth. They had settled their differences and were friends once more. But Teryan was dead, slain by the demons, and out of gratitude the gods set her to orbit the world, so that anyone who walked on the surface could see her beauty and radiance, forever travelling the night sky as the second moon. And Chamwalla still stands, the only monument remaining on the world of the days gods and demons fought an open war, and without it the demons might not have been repelled. This was the story of Chamwalla.