May 28, 2020 at 10:05 am #113943
Teagen Jath went to sleep one night on a sandy beach beneath the stars, his brow taut with worry for the marrow. However, his tense body awoke on a bed that rivaled the softness of the clouds. His keen, blue eyes cast about the luxuriant room as he sat up, the silk comforter sliding down his finely clothed chest. /Where was he?/
The young man’s lips parted slightly as one of his calloused hands pulled aside the covers and he lowered his bare feet toward the floor. His toes fell into a thick carpet that sucked his heels in like fresh moss. Beautiful tapestries of dragons, knights, and ships battling serpents covered the walls. He slowly rose and stepped toward the smallest ocean scene.
He cocked his head, dark curls falling over his eyes and ears, mussed from a fitful sleep. Which wasn’t unusual, it hadn’t been since his father,.. Teagen shook his head and looked back to the smallest wall rug.
A lone man battled harsh ten-foot waves in nothing but a skiff. His face, though sketchy, was tight, and fearful. /So much like himself, in more ways than one./ The breathing male swallowed hard, tongue swirling about his mouth as he looked about.
He, as well, was the smallest, the most insignificant image in his family’s place, battling higher than ten-foot waves that had threatened to drown him his whole life. Which is why he’d left, but jumping from the boat had done little to help.
Then there was the beautiful sea! The young man took in a deep breath, face loosening slightly as he was almost able to smell the saltwater in his nostrils, and the wet, salty heaven on his face. The water was freedom,..until it wasn’t.
He shivered despite the relative warmth of the room, casting his eyes into every dark shadow, but not every mystery. /How on earth had he gotten here?/ He went to a large window set high on the farthest wall and looked out. His tall stature having no trouble with reaching his stubbled chin to the great height.
He saw fields and fields of happy cottages and homes… People and children laughing, and toiling. He wanted to call to them, but for some reason couldn’t. It was as if his tongue was tied with a sure cord. He then turned away from the window and tested his voice.
Strong, though scratchy tones came forth easily as a song from a lute.
Then Teagen’s feet danced to turn him round as a loud creak and groan shook the tranquility of the space. One of the giant carved doors eased open, like a giant awakened from a hundred-year sleep.
And then the figure which stepped through the door took his breath away.
Passion = A Willingness To SufferMay 28, 2020 at 10:10 am #113944May 28, 2020 at 10:13 am #113945
I think if I join that will make ten…So, (not that I have any say), but a new thread would probably be helpful.
Passion = A Willingness To SufferMay 28, 2020 at 10:54 am #113951Livi Ryddle@anne_the_noob14
Woahhh! I love that passage with Teagen!!
Just have one question: What does he look like, who is he, and what’s his personality like? (I guess that was actually three lol.)
“Enough! Be quiet! I can’t hear myself think! I can’t hear my teeth chatter!"May 28, 2020 at 10:55 am #113952Livi Ryddle@anne_the_noob14
And by the way, what does jominkreesa mean? I just Googled it and it didn’t come up with anything. Quite literally. That’s the first time it didn’t show any search results at all lol.
“Enough! Be quiet! I can’t hear myself think! I can’t hear my teeth chatter!"May 28, 2020 at 11:45 am #113959
Teagen is about twenty-five. A sailor (until the shipwreck). He’s one of four(ish) main characters in my fantasy book. He is tall, strong, and has curly dark brown hair. He likes to remain clean-shaven, but has a beard starting because he doesn’t have a razor on the island. He is the antagonist in the good guy group. He has little respect, even less loyalty, and an easily excited temper. He hates looking weak, and gets into fights over the slightest offenses. His growth as a character by the end of the book will likely be the most obvious. He has a troubled past, but only his oppressors and fellow sufferers (same people) know of it at this point, and then again, perhaps they don’t. Sooo…(: That’s the basics of Teagen.
Passion = A Willingness To SufferMay 28, 2020 at 12:25 pm #113961
So I go to sleep and everyone decides to write XD
"My sword you shall have, but never in surrender!"
Profile art by DeepRunMay 28, 2020 at 3:14 pm #113977
I like the words at the bottom of your message. It’s good.
Passion = A Willingness To SufferMay 28, 2020 at 4:16 pm #113980
It’s from The Terrestria Chronicles.
"My sword you shall have, but never in surrender!"
Profile art by DeepRunMay 28, 2020 at 5:47 pm #113984
Oh, and Teagen loves kids. And, generally, kids love him. They’re basically the only ones he has a soft spot for, and girls. If they’re helpless as kids,…doesn’t happen often in his time period, and if they are? They don’t show it.
Passion = A Willingness To SufferMay 28, 2020 at 5:50 pm #113986
Alright, I just read the whole Fantasy Writers Castle Chronicles. All your characters and scenes are really good!
Passion = A Willingness To SufferMay 28, 2020 at 6:32 pm #113989
Charlotte seems like an interesting character match for Teagen. He’s drawn to quiet, beautiful, older women, and their wisdom…though he rarely listens. If she told him to stop when on a rampage he would listen to her. Then again, if he was fighting to impress her (cause he’s that type of guy) it could get interesting. Especially since he’s the only guy without a weapon…
Libby also seems really cool. Teagen would like her, and try to protect her if she needs it) if not, he’d give her some space. Teagen had several little and older sisters, with different experiences with each.
Teagen suspects everyone, tension will likely escalate (when they meet) between Isaac and him. (Also, I really liked how you mentioned Walkure. And the time of your character…WWII is one of my favorite subjects to read about.) I’m a fourth German (not that I’m very proud of it). But that’s why they did Walkure right?
- This reply was modified 1 year, 4 months ago by Kimmi.
Passion = A Willingness To SufferMay 28, 2020 at 8:44 pm #113999
Well, I guess I should get around to writing something since this place has gained a lot of activity suddenly. I’ll try to come up with something by tomorrow.
"My sword you shall have, but never in surrender!"
Profile art by DeepRunMay 28, 2020 at 8:45 pm #114000Rusted Knight@rusted-knight
@kimlikesart, you’re a WWII specialist too?
Well, Isaac is on point so I’d better describe the room.
Isaac found the door. He kicked himself mentally for not properly clearing the room. There still might be something inside he missed. Opening the door, he skidded to the side. No one shot at him so that was good. Bending down he light the candle and retrieved the knife. The others did not see the action because of the coat.
“Here it is.” said Isaac as he put the candle on the table.
Prince Luke looked around at the books. He seemed to be in his element. The other boy was more alert now. The talk of wizards must have been the trigger. The swordsman seemed to be more on a casual neutral ready to attack or defend in a moments notice.
“What’s that?” asked the boy as he pointed.
Following the finger, Isaac saw a mirror on the back wall. Using the candle to light torches on the wall, Isaac investigated. It was a cheval style mirror. Not a one way mirror, he would see through it with this light. Approaching at an angle, he looked behind it. No one there. Looking in the mirror, Isaac saw the distorted reflection. It was not his but that of a gargoyle. The chest was blacked with what looked like soot. The fangs and claws were red with blood maybe.
Isaac smile thinly and wryly. Overall a good impression of his nature. A beast whose ugly nature was meant to scare off demons. This one was scarred by battle like himself.
(the mirror is meant the show the personality of the viewer symbolically. any beast may be used, even those from your worlds as long as its symbolism is explained. extra details may be added according to the situation.)
The Devil saw me with my head down and got excited. Then I said AmenMay 28, 2020 at 9:08 pm #114001Ariella Newheart@ariella-newheart
@beth20 Thanks for the summary! It did help!
@anne_the_noob14 Okay, thanks for keeping up with everything! You’re an excellent second-in-command. I think it is a good idea for you to do the next topic if more people join because I can’t promise I’ll be extremely active.
@rusted-knight Wow, I like the symbolism in the mirror. I will have to use that on Marlowe soon.
Marlowe was just a shadow among shadows. She passed unseen through the halls of this ancient castle, examining its rooms and listening to the voices of the people who were trapped just as she was. She had explored many ruins on her archaeological expeditions, but never found them singularly fascinating. What was crumbling stone when compared to the grandeur of modern architecture? The past was worth nothing to her.
One of the fellows she had met treated her politely, though he seemed to think she was a resident or servant in the place. When he asked for directions, Marlowe’s mood shifted. Her mordant side smirked and said, Here’s a fellow who isn’t too full of pride to ask for directions. Outwardly, she displayed a stoic face. “I’m afraid I can’t.”
The fellow’s expression flickered between frustration and that same politeness, evidence that he was being just as deceptive as Marlowe. “But surely since you work here, you know the layout of the castle?”
Pretending to belong here was too transparent of a lie. Marlowe stared at the fellow long enough to make him uncomfortable, then said, “If I worked here, I would likely scream and throw a fit and call for the guards to throw you out, but in fact, I do not belong here any more than you do.”
A girl with black hair, green eyes, and a sweet expression suddenly entered the corridor and nearly ran into Marlowe and the strange man. “I beg your pardon.” She blushed and took a step back.
“Pardon is given,” Marlowe replied with a comforting smile, instinctively slipping into a more tender mask.
As a third person stepped onto the scene, a boy with dark hair, Marlowe retreated into the shadows to watch, her hands clasped behind her back. “Hi there. My name’s Jaylin,” said the newcomer.
The tall man smiled in a way that seemed genuine enough. “I’m Dharin. Ah…” He motioned toward Marlowe. “I was just asking her if there was a privy somewhere close.”
Jaylin squirmed a little. “Uh, I’m afraid I don’t know. I’m not quite sure where I am.”
Dharin glanced at the shorter girl. “What about you?”
“Uh… I think I saw one back that way.”
I suppose she is the curious sort who peeks into random rooms. Marlowe ignored the part of her that wanted to chuckle and point fingers like a six-year-old. Humor had its place, and that place was not here. Or, countered her analytical side, the door had a label.
“Thank you,” Dharin said. “I’ll just be going, then. Have a nice day.”
How polite. Don’t trust him.
The boy Jaylin followed the tall man, leaving Marlowe alone with the unnamed girl. But when Marlowe glanced back, her companion had disappeared without a trace. No footprints marked her passing. No sound of rustling fabric had indicated her retreat. She had utterly vanished.
Marlowe glanced up and down the corridor. One less to worry about. Just make sure the others don’t accuse you of orchestrating her disappearance. With light footsteps, Marlowe became a shadow once more, lurking and listening to the tales told by the remaining visitors to the castle. They had entered a library.
When Marlowe peeked through the door at the old tomes lining the walls, her nose wrinkled. Yet more dusty reminders of an inferior age. The strangers were hidden among the bookshelves, none of them looking at the door. To make her presence known, she slipped into the room, picked up a dusty book, and allowed herself to sneeze twice.
They would think that she was a careless lurker who posed no threat. All was going exactly according to plan.
Writer, illustrator, Parimi Alcan
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