CRW Assignment
Here's the current three stories I had to do for my CRW 3111 class: Narrative Techniques. I hate the disability to format things correctly. e.e;
Working Title: Into the Labyrinth
Date: 8-30-07 / 9-1-07
Author: Jescobe 'Cobra' Miru
Stars: Neiru, Nox, Alaric, C'vok, Ilummi, Kamui-Eclipse
A glimpse into Chapter 1
“-forget the mannerisms you have learned, the morals ingrained, and the wisdom in the book of codes. It is with great pride that you must hold yourself from now on, never forget-” He knew he should have been paying more attention to the Ceremony Masters grand speech, but he simply couldn’t bring himself to. Today was the last day he’d be in this stuffy little cathedral in Taramin Wheys capital city of Malduth. The last day he would answer to the name Squire Albel and be at the Knights’ beck and call and miserable mercy like some shy Page boy.
He winced when he felt an elbow dig into his side, jostling him out of his thoughts and shot a glare at the boy to his right. Ilummi might have well been born female, for all his pretty girlish looks and long curved eyelashes, softly curved body and long mane of platinum blond hair; Hair that Illummi often got into spats with the trainers over, because it was against the rules to have hair longer then chin length. At times it wasn’t even safe to have hair cut at your ears, for women were not allowed anywhere near Malduth’s prized facility that dedicated themselves to the Order of Paladin.
“Pay attention Albel, they’re almost at your name.” Illummi hissed, eyes never straying from the Ceremony Masters face. “Do you really want to be punished on your last day here?” Albel resisted the urge to throttle him, and stood a little straighter, hiding his boredom with a mask of indifference. He couldn’t let word reach his parents that their prized son had been doing less then his absolute best, that he was at his wits end, and on occasion hearing strange voices. “Krimrose’s Hros Malu, Lex Albel-”
A glimpse into the Introduction
-pacing back and forth, wearing a rut into the rug with those perfectly polished black boots. “Calm down Eclipse, there’s been no word as of yet to confirm these rumors. If the Order of Paladin really was plotting to kill Duke von Dulex’s son we would have heard something already. Even the Assassins Guild would never stay quiet about it.” Eclipse didn’t seem to hear a word the Naga said, until he tripped over the half-serpents long tail that had purposely been stretched into the pacing mans path.
Neiru ignored the burning glare of the mismatched eyes and instead examined his nails. They were starting to look a bit worn around the tips. “Now sit down, be quiet, and listen to me for once. Duke von Dulex wouldn’t let his son go anywhere if it were dangerous. His son is second in line for the throne and his wife is barren. You know as well as I, that the kidnapping seven years ago forced young von Dulex into a sort of impromptu house arrest until he came of age. After which he was promptly sent off for military training for the leadership skills, social ties, and other things he would learn there. For one with the Dulex’s unique appearance we haven’t heard heads or tails of where the young noble has disappeared to.” Neiru paused to take a breath and collect his thoughts. “We don’t-”
“Don’t you dare say ‘We don’t even know if he is there’ Neiru or I swear I’ll turn your tail into riding boots.” Eclipse interrupted, once again glaring at the Naga. “Its bullshit and you know it. Duke von Dulex’s son is at the Order’s training facility, my son has already confirmed it several times. He has also confirmed the treatment-”
6 pages out of chapter 3 or 4
C’vok was at his wits end, and rather than entertaining ideas on how to chain a certain someone to a desk, he didn’t know what to do. His Prince had run off again, ignoring his duties to his father and kingdom. His Prince’s personal guard had also been found bound and gagged in a…compromising position on His Majesties bed. Malikier, Loki’s avatar, upon awakening had found his situation to be entirely too hilarious. The blond avatar was among those pretty high on his black list, simply for his irresponsibility when it came to His Majesties well-fare, no matter how well he made up for it with his abilities and avatar-gifted powers. His counter-part, the Angelic Blood Guard Talim, had not shared Malikier’s humor at the situation. He had been properly horrified that he’d been taken out by someone who knew only the bare basics of swordsmanship. Though to C’vok’s chagrin, neither of them had seemed too concerned about their charges’ disappearance.
Even now Malikier’s knowing gaze watched him as he paced. “Oh come on C’vok! Out of the three of us your feathers are the only ones ruffled. You know as well as I do that our Majesty is fine. He’s most likely indulging himself in a bit of sport at that bookshop of his.” The elven avatar said, attempting to sooth his companion and superior. He snickered at the choicely hissed words that the Advisor snarled about the Prince and his bookstore. “Please. Give the boy a break already. In a year or two he won’t be able to dally about the place like some prized lap hound. He’ll be firmly married to some noble woman or distance princess. He simply won’t have the time to go visit his little bookworm when he should be making babies, attending court, and listening to his Father whine even more about the kingdom’s current state of affairs and lack of that particular sweet bread he likes.” The Chaos Gods Avatar said as he examined the tips of a lock of hair disinterestedly, “Worse comes to worse that when he does get married we’ll just hear that he’s taken on a Mistress. Or would that be Master? Hmm…” He seemed to be considering the answer to his own question before brushing it off. “No matter, Talim has already gone to fetch him. Even Nox is not stupid enough to ignore him when he doesn’t want to be ignored. Blood would start flying if he did.”
The street that Proudmoore’s Bookstore was located held a vastly smaller crowd then Market Square, for which Talim was grateful for. He didn’t like the press of people as they surrounded him. His right hand tended to get twitchy and slowly travel down to grip the hilt of his short sword. Even now people shied away from his angry gaze as he searched for the now familiar shop front. He’d once overheard a bit of maid gossip about him. While he was visually pleasing, with crimson hair, acidic green eyes, and a body sculpted from years of strict training, he was likened to a Grass Cat. Safe to look at from a distance but up close he always seemed to be contemplating the different ways to hide a body. Or at least maim them in a way that the blame couldn’t be pointed to him. The thought made him snort, startling a message boy who’d come a bit too close. The youths wide eyed look made his lips twitch in a feral parody of a smile.
He heard the familiar laugh long before he noticed the store, with the sign flipped to ‘closed’. He tested the handle and found it to be unlocked, and so he let himself in. Talim followed the sound of voices to the small kitchen situated upstairs, careful to avoid the trick steps on the third step from the bottom and the fourth from the top, as well as the books that dotted nearly every visible surface in the store.
“-can’t think of what I’d do in your shoes. I bet your friends are mighty pissed at you, with the way you tricked them and all.” The soft voice of his Princes beau said. “Not that I’m complaining. It’s become too rare, these visits of yours.” He heard the creak of a chair as a body shifted. “I know. I apologized for it already.” He heard his Prince sigh, “It’s just…my Father is old and while he’s still healthy we never know when he could just…go. There’s still much for me to learn from him and the people he works with that I rarely get a break such as this in which to escape.” He could literally hear the grin on his Majesty’s face.
The door to the room was already open. Talim took a moment to study the two and felt a small pang of…something. Remorse perhaps because it was painfully obvious even to the untrained eye that the two were in love. Alaric, Nox’s beau, was dressed in a loose homespun cotton shirt the color of wine, black breeches and simple leather shoes. Nox’s appearance on the other hand was carefully put together, so that no one would be able to pick out the Prince from the Commoner. It was a pity that Malikier and himself were the ones to help put it together. His Majesty’s reddish-orange hair was free of the braid it was normally trapped in, and was tied at the nape of his neck with a simple black ribbon. His garments were made of sturdy cotton, not the rich silks he was forced to wear in the palace. There he was peacock on display; here he seemed to be yet another tree in the forest. Both looks appealed to him, the fancy lifestyle and the simpler one where you had to work hard for the ones you held dear. Talim mentally sighed and went to make himself comfortable on the threshold.
“It’s not so much that you escaped as that we let you leave.” Talim said dryly from his position leaning against the doorframe. He felt a small thrill of pleasure at the way the two jumped like started Manx, toppling over their chairs in their haste to see who it was that intruded upon their little sanctuary. “T-Talim!” The Prince gaped as he took in his presence while his beau only sighed in amusement. “Love, close your mouth. You are a Prince, not a Fish.” The slender adult moved to pick up the fallen chairs and set them right. “Hello Talim, how are you?”
“I’ve been better Alaric. Namely when I’m not sent out to baby sit our future ruler.” Talim replied blandly, staring at Nox in silent accusation. Nox flushed a pink hue and wordlessly sat down on his chair. Talim moved to turn a chair backwards before he straddled it. “Ah. I’m sorry; the chair you usually sit on is buried under books down below.” Alaric apologized, realizing that the guard’s rust colored wings were more often a hindrance then an asset. Talim waved away the apology, “That is why I am glad that chairs are made to be moved, not bolted down like the parodies they call seats on ships.” He rested his arms on the back of the chair and glanced between the two. “C’vok is out for your blood Nox.” He said finally, breaking the awkward silence that had settled upon his arrival. “Is he? He’s always on my case for something I have or have yet to do.” Nox complained, sinking lower in his seat. “Nothing I do will ever please him.”
“He’s worried. He knows something that we do not and cannot express it properly.”
“But Talim-“
“No. Listen to him love, he isn’t finished speaking.” Alaric interrupted, reaching over to clasp Nox’s hands.
“Aah. C’vok is a Naga, as you know. He’s a part of the ‘Ancient Bloodline’ or some crap like that. Meaning he has access to information that others cannot have.” Talim paused for a moment, “He wears a blindfold not only because he is blind, but because his eyes…well…his eyes can kill. He is a Basilisk you know. His eyes are his lineage and proof of his breed.” The blood guard shook his head, “I’m rambling. His eyes are proof that he is what he claims to be, and so he can ‘read’ what the Elders are privy to. After his last trip home he has been…uneasy. He told me that there was a storm coming and the first few drops of rain would not be pretty if you did not learn what you needed to.” Talim ran a hand through his hair and grimaced as his eyes caught a few minuet red stains on the crisp white bandages that twined around his forearms.
“What-what do you mean?”
“I mean you need to settle down a bit. Don’t give him so many problems when all he’s trying to do is train you. And I do mean train, as in book skills, battle skills, and…” Talim flushed a bit, “Er…sexual education.” Alaric choked on air and flushed a bright red while Nox just raised an eyebrow in confusion. “Sexual…education?” He asked skeptically, laying his free hand on top of Alaric’s own. Talim muttered something while looking at the wall just to the left of Nox’s head. “I’m sorry?” Nox asked still looking quite baffled. “He said that you’d be learning how to properly bed a-” Alaric was cut off by the sound of a chair clattering to the floor. “Ah…Your Majesty, we should be getting back.” Talim said, face still burning with embarrassment over their current topic. “The Advisor will let him know just what exactly it is that he will be learning. No use having him fret over it now, while he’s still free- I mean, still acting like a shy mooncalf around you.” The look Nox threw him let Talim know that his ploy had partially failed, though the young man did, somewhat reluctantly, abandon his seat. Alaric stood as well, hands still clasped with the young Lord’s own. “I’ll see you boys out then, watch out for Maron’s gang, they’ve been the bane of the merchants round here lately.”
Talim nodded to show that he’d heard, and left the kitchen, giving the two a bit of privacy (and Nox a chance to escape if he were smart enough to take it) before he’d barge in again.
Working Title: Into the Labyrinth
Date: 8-30-07 / 9-1-07
Author: Jescobe 'Cobra' Miru
Stars: Neiru, Nox, Alaric, C'vok, Ilummi, Kamui-Eclipse
A glimpse into Chapter 1
“-forget the mannerisms you have learned, the morals ingrained, and the wisdom in the book of codes. It is with great pride that you must hold yourself from now on, never forget-” He knew he should have been paying more attention to the Ceremony Masters grand speech, but he simply couldn’t bring himself to. Today was the last day he’d be in this stuffy little cathedral in Taramin Wheys capital city of Malduth. The last day he would answer to the name Squire Albel and be at the Knights’ beck and call and miserable mercy like some shy Page boy.
He winced when he felt an elbow dig into his side, jostling him out of his thoughts and shot a glare at the boy to his right. Ilummi might have well been born female, for all his pretty girlish looks and long curved eyelashes, softly curved body and long mane of platinum blond hair; Hair that Illummi often got into spats with the trainers over, because it was against the rules to have hair longer then chin length. At times it wasn’t even safe to have hair cut at your ears, for women were not allowed anywhere near Malduth’s prized facility that dedicated themselves to the Order of Paladin.
“Pay attention Albel, they’re almost at your name.” Illummi hissed, eyes never straying from the Ceremony Masters face. “Do you really want to be punished on your last day here?” Albel resisted the urge to throttle him, and stood a little straighter, hiding his boredom with a mask of indifference. He couldn’t let word reach his parents that their prized son had been doing less then his absolute best, that he was at his wits end, and on occasion hearing strange voices. “Krimrose’s Hros Malu, Lex Albel-”
A glimpse into the Introduction
-pacing back and forth, wearing a rut into the rug with those perfectly polished black boots. “Calm down Eclipse, there’s been no word as of yet to confirm these rumors. If the Order of Paladin really was plotting to kill Duke von Dulex’s son we would have heard something already. Even the Assassins Guild would never stay quiet about it.” Eclipse didn’t seem to hear a word the Naga said, until he tripped over the half-serpents long tail that had purposely been stretched into the pacing mans path.
Neiru ignored the burning glare of the mismatched eyes and instead examined his nails. They were starting to look a bit worn around the tips. “Now sit down, be quiet, and listen to me for once. Duke von Dulex wouldn’t let his son go anywhere if it were dangerous. His son is second in line for the throne and his wife is barren. You know as well as I, that the kidnapping seven years ago forced young von Dulex into a sort of impromptu house arrest until he came of age. After which he was promptly sent off for military training for the leadership skills, social ties, and other things he would learn there. For one with the Dulex’s unique appearance we haven’t heard heads or tails of where the young noble has disappeared to.” Neiru paused to take a breath and collect his thoughts. “We don’t-”
“Don’t you dare say ‘We don’t even know if he is there’ Neiru or I swear I’ll turn your tail into riding boots.” Eclipse interrupted, once again glaring at the Naga. “Its bullshit and you know it. Duke von Dulex’s son is at the Order’s training facility, my son has already confirmed it several times. He has also confirmed the treatment-”
6 pages out of chapter 3 or 4
C’vok was at his wits end, and rather than entertaining ideas on how to chain a certain someone to a desk, he didn’t know what to do. His Prince had run off again, ignoring his duties to his father and kingdom. His Prince’s personal guard had also been found bound and gagged in a…compromising position on His Majesties bed. Malikier, Loki’s avatar, upon awakening had found his situation to be entirely too hilarious. The blond avatar was among those pretty high on his black list, simply for his irresponsibility when it came to His Majesties well-fare, no matter how well he made up for it with his abilities and avatar-gifted powers. His counter-part, the Angelic Blood Guard Talim, had not shared Malikier’s humor at the situation. He had been properly horrified that he’d been taken out by someone who knew only the bare basics of swordsmanship. Though to C’vok’s chagrin, neither of them had seemed too concerned about their charges’ disappearance.
Even now Malikier’s knowing gaze watched him as he paced. “Oh come on C’vok! Out of the three of us your feathers are the only ones ruffled. You know as well as I do that our Majesty is fine. He’s most likely indulging himself in a bit of sport at that bookshop of his.” The elven avatar said, attempting to sooth his companion and superior. He snickered at the choicely hissed words that the Advisor snarled about the Prince and his bookstore. “Please. Give the boy a break already. In a year or two he won’t be able to dally about the place like some prized lap hound. He’ll be firmly married to some noble woman or distance princess. He simply won’t have the time to go visit his little bookworm when he should be making babies, attending court, and listening to his Father whine even more about the kingdom’s current state of affairs and lack of that particular sweet bread he likes.” The Chaos Gods Avatar said as he examined the tips of a lock of hair disinterestedly, “Worse comes to worse that when he does get married we’ll just hear that he’s taken on a Mistress. Or would that be Master? Hmm…” He seemed to be considering the answer to his own question before brushing it off. “No matter, Talim has already gone to fetch him. Even Nox is not stupid enough to ignore him when he doesn’t want to be ignored. Blood would start flying if he did.”
The street that Proudmoore’s Bookstore was located held a vastly smaller crowd then Market Square, for which Talim was grateful for. He didn’t like the press of people as they surrounded him. His right hand tended to get twitchy and slowly travel down to grip the hilt of his short sword. Even now people shied away from his angry gaze as he searched for the now familiar shop front. He’d once overheard a bit of maid gossip about him. While he was visually pleasing, with crimson hair, acidic green eyes, and a body sculpted from years of strict training, he was likened to a Grass Cat. Safe to look at from a distance but up close he always seemed to be contemplating the different ways to hide a body. Or at least maim them in a way that the blame couldn’t be pointed to him. The thought made him snort, startling a message boy who’d come a bit too close. The youths wide eyed look made his lips twitch in a feral parody of a smile.
He heard the familiar laugh long before he noticed the store, with the sign flipped to ‘closed’. He tested the handle and found it to be unlocked, and so he let himself in. Talim followed the sound of voices to the small kitchen situated upstairs, careful to avoid the trick steps on the third step from the bottom and the fourth from the top, as well as the books that dotted nearly every visible surface in the store.
“-can’t think of what I’d do in your shoes. I bet your friends are mighty pissed at you, with the way you tricked them and all.” The soft voice of his Princes beau said. “Not that I’m complaining. It’s become too rare, these visits of yours.” He heard the creak of a chair as a body shifted. “I know. I apologized for it already.” He heard his Prince sigh, “It’s just…my Father is old and while he’s still healthy we never know when he could just…go. There’s still much for me to learn from him and the people he works with that I rarely get a break such as this in which to escape.” He could literally hear the grin on his Majesty’s face.
The door to the room was already open. Talim took a moment to study the two and felt a small pang of…something. Remorse perhaps because it was painfully obvious even to the untrained eye that the two were in love. Alaric, Nox’s beau, was dressed in a loose homespun cotton shirt the color of wine, black breeches and simple leather shoes. Nox’s appearance on the other hand was carefully put together, so that no one would be able to pick out the Prince from the Commoner. It was a pity that Malikier and himself were the ones to help put it together. His Majesty’s reddish-orange hair was free of the braid it was normally trapped in, and was tied at the nape of his neck with a simple black ribbon. His garments were made of sturdy cotton, not the rich silks he was forced to wear in the palace. There he was peacock on display; here he seemed to be yet another tree in the forest. Both looks appealed to him, the fancy lifestyle and the simpler one where you had to work hard for the ones you held dear. Talim mentally sighed and went to make himself comfortable on the threshold.
“It’s not so much that you escaped as that we let you leave.” Talim said dryly from his position leaning against the doorframe. He felt a small thrill of pleasure at the way the two jumped like started Manx, toppling over their chairs in their haste to see who it was that intruded upon their little sanctuary. “T-Talim!” The Prince gaped as he took in his presence while his beau only sighed in amusement. “Love, close your mouth. You are a Prince, not a Fish.” The slender adult moved to pick up the fallen chairs and set them right. “Hello Talim, how are you?”
“I’ve been better Alaric. Namely when I’m not sent out to baby sit our future ruler.” Talim replied blandly, staring at Nox in silent accusation. Nox flushed a pink hue and wordlessly sat down on his chair. Talim moved to turn a chair backwards before he straddled it. “Ah. I’m sorry; the chair you usually sit on is buried under books down below.” Alaric apologized, realizing that the guard’s rust colored wings were more often a hindrance then an asset. Talim waved away the apology, “That is why I am glad that chairs are made to be moved, not bolted down like the parodies they call seats on ships.” He rested his arms on the back of the chair and glanced between the two. “C’vok is out for your blood Nox.” He said finally, breaking the awkward silence that had settled upon his arrival. “Is he? He’s always on my case for something I have or have yet to do.” Nox complained, sinking lower in his seat. “Nothing I do will ever please him.”
“He’s worried. He knows something that we do not and cannot express it properly.”
“But Talim-“
“No. Listen to him love, he isn’t finished speaking.” Alaric interrupted, reaching over to clasp Nox’s hands.
“Aah. C’vok is a Naga, as you know. He’s a part of the ‘Ancient Bloodline’ or some crap like that. Meaning he has access to information that others cannot have.” Talim paused for a moment, “He wears a blindfold not only because he is blind, but because his eyes…well…his eyes can kill. He is a Basilisk you know. His eyes are his lineage and proof of his breed.” The blood guard shook his head, “I’m rambling. His eyes are proof that he is what he claims to be, and so he can ‘read’ what the Elders are privy to. After his last trip home he has been…uneasy. He told me that there was a storm coming and the first few drops of rain would not be pretty if you did not learn what you needed to.” Talim ran a hand through his hair and grimaced as his eyes caught a few minuet red stains on the crisp white bandages that twined around his forearms.
“What-what do you mean?”
“I mean you need to settle down a bit. Don’t give him so many problems when all he’s trying to do is train you. And I do mean train, as in book skills, battle skills, and…” Talim flushed a bit, “Er…sexual education.” Alaric choked on air and flushed a bright red while Nox just raised an eyebrow in confusion. “Sexual…education?” He asked skeptically, laying his free hand on top of Alaric’s own. Talim muttered something while looking at the wall just to the left of Nox’s head. “I’m sorry?” Nox asked still looking quite baffled. “He said that you’d be learning how to properly bed a-” Alaric was cut off by the sound of a chair clattering to the floor. “Ah…Your Majesty, we should be getting back.” Talim said, face still burning with embarrassment over their current topic. “The Advisor will let him know just what exactly it is that he will be learning. No use having him fret over it now, while he’s still free- I mean, still acting like a shy mooncalf around you.” The look Nox threw him let Talim know that his ploy had partially failed, though the young man did, somewhat reluctantly, abandon his seat. Alaric stood as well, hands still clasped with the young Lord’s own. “I’ll see you boys out then, watch out for Maron’s gang, they’ve been the bane of the merchants round here lately.”
Talim nodded to show that he’d heard, and left the kitchen, giving the two a bit of privacy (and Nox a chance to escape if he were smart enough to take it) before he’d barge in again.