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EDITING IS DONE!!! :D :D :D
Woot!!
I can finally start writing properly again! It really shouldn't have taken this long to get to this point, but it did and I'll have to live with it. :( Still, I'm enjoying writing properly again. Plus I'm at quite an entertaining section which is proving a lot of fun to develop. I'll show you all what I did today. Firstly, I edited two whole chapters and then wrote about half of the next one. I don't know if this will make much sense to any of you out of context, so I'll give a bit of background...
Philip, son of the Pengish Emperor, seeks the aid of the Air Keepers to help get his province back from an ancient evil that has laid it to waste. The Air Keepers told him to prove his worth by bringing Diyn, a Tohar Lizard, to their palace in the Spill Mountains. Accompanied by Robert the Bear (who is a childhood friend of Diyn) and three other Pengs, they head south through Tsayad. The Lizards of Tsayad are enemies of the Tohar and so Diyn is soon kidnapped and in the rescue attempt, Philip loses his pengs but they make the acquaintance of Wybren, a Draig who claims to be working for the Air Keepers. Once they release Diyn and escape from Tsayad, they head into the near by forest. There they are perused by a strange creature. Some call it the Tarad, other The Nightmare. At the end of the previous chapter, the Tarad appears and attacks the group...
Chapter Seventeen:
The Messenger of Wymosh
Tendrils of smoke, black, purple and red, waved around the Târad as it glided into the small clearing. Robert pushed the others back with his thick arms while glowering at the creature. Whimpering, Philip slunk behind Wybren with a shiver. The Draig closed his eyes and glanced at the sky. Dîyn stared at the creature, ducking under Robert’s arm and striding towards it. The Bear tried to move his arm to catch him, but his limbs shivered and he pulled back. Meanwhile, the Târad blinked its flaming eyes and laughed.
A warm breeze encircled them, the red smoke rushing along it until they were hemmed in; the black and purple wisps clawed their way up around Dîyn. The birds flew away, squawking in terror, the trees leaned back, away from the Nightmare and the travellers sunk to their knees. Yet Dîyn moved ever closer to the creature, his beaming eyes meeting its gaze. It cocked its head on one side and the fire in its eyes dimmed, turning white, then dark blue.
Dîyn was flung back by a fist of wind. He smashed into a tree and collapsed into the mud. Robert burst forward, flourishing his massive sword, but the Târad held out his hand; the air drew tight around the Bear’s throat. He coughed and thumped face-down to the ground. With its eyes flashing, the Târad drew a long sword; the blade was dark and thick, shaped almost like a butcher’s knife. The clean steel seemed to wave, as if it reflected a fire within the blade. It licked the edges and curved around, blazing from its source in the hilt.
Philip ran. The sword rushed forward, darting over Robert, who was still panting on the ground. The Târad glided towards the Peng, raising his weapon up, but he was caught by the cloak and was flung back. Wybren kept his grip on the fine woollen material, his eyes boring into the Nightmare. It let out a short chuckle. A blasting rush of air flung the forest litter into the air, shrouding the Târad for a moment. Wybren took a deep breath, but almost immediately, it was torn from him as the burning eyes appeared in front of him. The creature grinned; two short fangs glittered in the fading light.
Wybren fell onto his wings and shouted in pain. Dîyn leaped to his feet and picked up Robert’s sword. The Târad glanced at him and raised a hand, sending a wall of solid air at the Lizard. But he stood his ground, his feet digging into the thick earth as he was forced back by the blast. Raising an eyebrow, the Nightmare rounded on him and slashed his sword. Dîyn parried and then ducked under the floating figure.
With a roar, Robert struggled to his feet and gaped at Dîyn fighting the strange thing off with a sword almost as tall as he was. But eventually, the Târad laughed and flung Dîyn away with a flick of his wrist. The dark smog was building all around them, gasping at the Nightmare, raising him up.
Wybren stood and gasped at the sky. He ducked and dived away just before a spinning axe thumped into the earth by his feet. The Târad twisted around and was met by a blast of fire. Hurling himself out of the way, he growled and let his eyes flash red. From behind the fire three figures dropped, their emerald wings unfurled and their golden helmets shining.
The strangers landed and encircled the Târad. Its face contorted as they drew light, but sharp, axes from their belts and advanced, smoke rising from their mouths. Wybren snuck out of the bushes and picked up the axe already embedded in the ground. He held it up towards their foe and let smoke blow out of his nostrils. But the Târad smirked and then laughed. The strangers raised their axes. Cracking his fingers, the Târad shot up into the air and soared towards the north. One of the stranger s flapped his wings, but another took his arm and pulled him back.
“No, Dur’Adain,” he said, “we can’t go after it. See, it’s already out of sight. We can’t fly that fast.”
“As you say, Captain Helgi.”
The captain removed his helmet and put it under his arm. He was a Draig, like Wybren, only broader and with thick muscles. His face was scarred and his left eye was surrounded by a spiral symbol burned into his scales. Across his forehead he wore a blue bandanna with a similar icon in the centre. The others took their helmets off, revealing that each had the same head bands, but different patterns on their eyes. Dur’Adain’s looked like a spider web, while another had a crescent moon; the last Draig had plain circles, smaller ones within the larger.
Helgi looked Wybren up and down and tutted. He then turned to Robert and Dîyn with a hum. The Bear picked up his sword from where Dîyn had dropped it and planted it, point down, in the ground. He then slammed his fist against his chest and bowed, making a low grumble and then speaking;
“Anerchiad, Draig Capten Helgi.”
“Master Bear,” Said the captain, “your Draigish is coming along nicely, have you been learning?” Robert rolled his eyes and then pulled Dîyn up by the arm.
“Aye, when I was a lad,” The Bear mumbled. “I was never too good at it, mind.”
“Well, we will not insist you speak it. Now,” his voice turned sterner, “where is the Peng? Oh, we know he’s here, that’s what Wybren told us.”
“You filthy little -” Philip shrieked as he rushed out of the bushes, waving his knife at the Draigs.
“Ah, so you are the Philip we have heard all about, eh? Well, don’t worry; our orders are to take you to see the Elder Draig at our home in Wymosh.”
Dîyn shuffled next to Wybren and took a close look at his eye. The scales around it were plain red with only a few scars here and there. He then looked back at the new Draigs with their decorated faces and hummed. Dur’Adain glared back at the Tôhar until he withdrew his gaze and looked at his own feet. The Draigs laughed.
“Young Wybren isn’t a Rhyfelwr,” said Helgi. “He’s just a low level messenger.”
“A spy,” Philip spat. “You make me sick. I’ll have you know that I could -”
“You are Concaedian, friend Bear?” Helgi looked at Robert with a broad smile.
“Aye,” he replied. “Well, ney, I was born in Concaedes, then moved to Gálot with my father, then I was shipped off to Khamas.”
“Harsh,” Dur’Adain hissed through his teeth.
“Aye, a little. But I can use this thing good enough.” He raised his sword and ran his finger along the gutter. “Robert’s my name.”
“Very good. And why are you on this little expedition?”
“You’re ignoring me,” cried Philip. “How dare they ignore me? This is inconceivable! I am Philip, son of Philipip! You will listen to -”
“Young Dîyn is a friend of mine,” Robert went on. “When these Pengish folk turned up I knew I had to look after the wei lad.”
“Quite so.” Helgi turned to Dîyn and Wybren and went on. “You have done well to come through Tsayad, master Tôhar. Was it Robert’s strength or Philip’s threats that got you through.” The other Draigs laughed while the Peng seethed.
Wybren put his hand on Philip’s shoulder and hushed him. But he shrugged him off and stamped his webbed feet. The other Draigs gave him sniggering looks, but contented themselves with mulling behind their captain.
^___^
I hope you liked that if you read it. :)
In other news...
Mother had another go at me today about the whole Job Centre thing. She walked in and told me "the Job Centre will give you £50 a week!" This was not what they had said to me, so I told her this. She got angry and started ranting and raving about how I always have to prove her wrong and contradict her and... aaagghh. It's so stupid. I asked her "What do you want me to do? Lie?" Then she went on about how I should just go and live on the streets or something random like that. -_-
Anyway... Now I have to go to sleep and try and wake up tomorrow in order to go to work...
Woot!!
I can finally start writing properly again! It really shouldn't have taken this long to get to this point, but it did and I'll have to live with it. :( Still, I'm enjoying writing properly again. Plus I'm at quite an entertaining section which is proving a lot of fun to develop. I'll show you all what I did today. Firstly, I edited two whole chapters and then wrote about half of the next one. I don't know if this will make much sense to any of you out of context, so I'll give a bit of background...
Philip, son of the Pengish Emperor, seeks the aid of the Air Keepers to help get his province back from an ancient evil that has laid it to waste. The Air Keepers told him to prove his worth by bringing Diyn, a Tohar Lizard, to their palace in the Spill Mountains. Accompanied by Robert the Bear (who is a childhood friend of Diyn) and three other Pengs, they head south through Tsayad. The Lizards of Tsayad are enemies of the Tohar and so Diyn is soon kidnapped and in the rescue attempt, Philip loses his pengs but they make the acquaintance of Wybren, a Draig who claims to be working for the Air Keepers. Once they release Diyn and escape from Tsayad, they head into the near by forest. There they are perused by a strange creature. Some call it the Tarad, other The Nightmare. At the end of the previous chapter, the Tarad appears and attacks the group...
Chapter Seventeen:
The Messenger of Wymosh
Tendrils of smoke, black, purple and red, waved around the Târad as it glided into the small clearing. Robert pushed the others back with his thick arms while glowering at the creature. Whimpering, Philip slunk behind Wybren with a shiver. The Draig closed his eyes and glanced at the sky. Dîyn stared at the creature, ducking under Robert’s arm and striding towards it. The Bear tried to move his arm to catch him, but his limbs shivered and he pulled back. Meanwhile, the Târad blinked its flaming eyes and laughed.
A warm breeze encircled them, the red smoke rushing along it until they were hemmed in; the black and purple wisps clawed their way up around Dîyn. The birds flew away, squawking in terror, the trees leaned back, away from the Nightmare and the travellers sunk to their knees. Yet Dîyn moved ever closer to the creature, his beaming eyes meeting its gaze. It cocked its head on one side and the fire in its eyes dimmed, turning white, then dark blue.
Dîyn was flung back by a fist of wind. He smashed into a tree and collapsed into the mud. Robert burst forward, flourishing his massive sword, but the Târad held out his hand; the air drew tight around the Bear’s throat. He coughed and thumped face-down to the ground. With its eyes flashing, the Târad drew a long sword; the blade was dark and thick, shaped almost like a butcher’s knife. The clean steel seemed to wave, as if it reflected a fire within the blade. It licked the edges and curved around, blazing from its source in the hilt.
Philip ran. The sword rushed forward, darting over Robert, who was still panting on the ground. The Târad glided towards the Peng, raising his weapon up, but he was caught by the cloak and was flung back. Wybren kept his grip on the fine woollen material, his eyes boring into the Nightmare. It let out a short chuckle. A blasting rush of air flung the forest litter into the air, shrouding the Târad for a moment. Wybren took a deep breath, but almost immediately, it was torn from him as the burning eyes appeared in front of him. The creature grinned; two short fangs glittered in the fading light.
Wybren fell onto his wings and shouted in pain. Dîyn leaped to his feet and picked up Robert’s sword. The Târad glanced at him and raised a hand, sending a wall of solid air at the Lizard. But he stood his ground, his feet digging into the thick earth as he was forced back by the blast. Raising an eyebrow, the Nightmare rounded on him and slashed his sword. Dîyn parried and then ducked under the floating figure.
With a roar, Robert struggled to his feet and gaped at Dîyn fighting the strange thing off with a sword almost as tall as he was. But eventually, the Târad laughed and flung Dîyn away with a flick of his wrist. The dark smog was building all around them, gasping at the Nightmare, raising him up.
Wybren stood and gasped at the sky. He ducked and dived away just before a spinning axe thumped into the earth by his feet. The Târad twisted around and was met by a blast of fire. Hurling himself out of the way, he growled and let his eyes flash red. From behind the fire three figures dropped, their emerald wings unfurled and their golden helmets shining.
The strangers landed and encircled the Târad. Its face contorted as they drew light, but sharp, axes from their belts and advanced, smoke rising from their mouths. Wybren snuck out of the bushes and picked up the axe already embedded in the ground. He held it up towards their foe and let smoke blow out of his nostrils. But the Târad smirked and then laughed. The strangers raised their axes. Cracking his fingers, the Târad shot up into the air and soared towards the north. One of the stranger s flapped his wings, but another took his arm and pulled him back.
“No, Dur’Adain,” he said, “we can’t go after it. See, it’s already out of sight. We can’t fly that fast.”
“As you say, Captain Helgi.”
The captain removed his helmet and put it under his arm. He was a Draig, like Wybren, only broader and with thick muscles. His face was scarred and his left eye was surrounded by a spiral symbol burned into his scales. Across his forehead he wore a blue bandanna with a similar icon in the centre. The others took their helmets off, revealing that each had the same head bands, but different patterns on their eyes. Dur’Adain’s looked like a spider web, while another had a crescent moon; the last Draig had plain circles, smaller ones within the larger.
Helgi looked Wybren up and down and tutted. He then turned to Robert and Dîyn with a hum. The Bear picked up his sword from where Dîyn had dropped it and planted it, point down, in the ground. He then slammed his fist against his chest and bowed, making a low grumble and then speaking;
“Anerchiad, Draig Capten Helgi.”
“Master Bear,” Said the captain, “your Draigish is coming along nicely, have you been learning?” Robert rolled his eyes and then pulled Dîyn up by the arm.
“Aye, when I was a lad,” The Bear mumbled. “I was never too good at it, mind.”
“Well, we will not insist you speak it. Now,” his voice turned sterner, “where is the Peng? Oh, we know he’s here, that’s what Wybren told us.”
“You filthy little -” Philip shrieked as he rushed out of the bushes, waving his knife at the Draigs.
“Ah, so you are the Philip we have heard all about, eh? Well, don’t worry; our orders are to take you to see the Elder Draig at our home in Wymosh.”
Dîyn shuffled next to Wybren and took a close look at his eye. The scales around it were plain red with only a few scars here and there. He then looked back at the new Draigs with their decorated faces and hummed. Dur’Adain glared back at the Tôhar until he withdrew his gaze and looked at his own feet. The Draigs laughed.
“Young Wybren isn’t a Rhyfelwr,” said Helgi. “He’s just a low level messenger.”
“A spy,” Philip spat. “You make me sick. I’ll have you know that I could -”
“You are Concaedian, friend Bear?” Helgi looked at Robert with a broad smile.
“Aye,” he replied. “Well, ney, I was born in Concaedes, then moved to Gálot with my father, then I was shipped off to Khamas.”
“Harsh,” Dur’Adain hissed through his teeth.
“Aye, a little. But I can use this thing good enough.” He raised his sword and ran his finger along the gutter. “Robert’s my name.”
“Very good. And why are you on this little expedition?”
“You’re ignoring me,” cried Philip. “How dare they ignore me? This is inconceivable! I am Philip, son of Philipip! You will listen to -”
“Young Dîyn is a friend of mine,” Robert went on. “When these Pengish folk turned up I knew I had to look after the wei lad.”
“Quite so.” Helgi turned to Dîyn and Wybren and went on. “You have done well to come through Tsayad, master Tôhar. Was it Robert’s strength or Philip’s threats that got you through.” The other Draigs laughed while the Peng seethed.
Wybren put his hand on Philip’s shoulder and hushed him. But he shrugged him off and stamped his webbed feet. The other Draigs gave him sniggering looks, but contented themselves with mulling behind their captain.
^___^
I hope you liked that if you read it. :)
In other news...
Mother had another go at me today about the whole Job Centre thing. She walked in and told me "the Job Centre will give you £50 a week!" This was not what they had said to me, so I told her this. She got angry and started ranting and raving about how I always have to prove her wrong and contradict her and... aaagghh. It's so stupid. I asked her "What do you want me to do? Lie?" Then she went on about how I should just go and live on the streets or something random like that. -_-
Anyway... Now I have to go to sleep and try and wake up tomorrow in order to go to work...