Jump to content
Eternal Lands Official Forums
Sign in to follow this  
Enly

Port Anitora and the Dragon ship

Recommended Posts

Alright, here is a summary of what i have brainstormed thus far for a story on the dragon ship and port anitora. The writing here is horrible, i know :P but i wanted to post a summary, and i can promise that my rough draft will be much better writing quality. :)

 

 

Port Anitora and the dragon ship:

 

Sarma is a gnome; he lives in WS city as carpenter engineer

 

He harbors a great desire to go to new places and find new lands. And decides he will find a way to get to the fabled Irilion. His first idea was to build a boat and sail there. That boat was sabotaged by an enemy of his; he decides he must go about this a different way. A friend of his, an old reclusive mage from Portland gives him a dragon skeleton. He claims the bones still hold in them the power of flight. So Sarma sets to work making, he works alone, Sarma has few friends. Yet many dislike him, and tease him about his goal of making a flying ship with which to reach irillion.

 

Eventually he completes the ship, with the help of the mage he transports it to an island in a bay in the south of Whitestone. From there he leaves, the ship is not flawless though, and he encounters many difficulties, eventually, during a windy storm, his ship crashes into the sea. Tired and cold he stays upon the ship, it floats for days on the seemingly endless sea, until one morning, sure he will die of thirst, Sarma finds his boat washed up on the sandy banks inside a cave. As he leaves to explore he discovers the island of Anitora. The island seems to be one huge marketplace, and the people tell him of a boat that will take him to irillion from there. Thrilled, Sarma travels to Irillion, and the city of idaloran. There he finds a young gnome in love with the concept of flight. That gnome come back with him to Anitora, and helps in fix his dragon ship. Proudly he returns to Seridia to tell of the land he has reached, his young gnome friend decides to stay on seridia, but Sarma decides to ferry people to Anitora, from where they can reach irillion, so that others may behold the wonderful land.

 

I know this is choppy and not the best sentence structure, but it’s a summary, and my basic outline of how I plan to write the story.

 

Is anyone aware of any current lore on Anitora, or the connection of Irillion and Seridia? If so could you please refer me to it, so that I may write this story correctly. :)

Edited by Enly

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

Hey :P

 

Sounds interesting, just one suggestion. Maybe Sarma should be an engineering, probably would make more sense :)

 

-Ace

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

 

Sounds interesting, just one suggestion. Maybe Sarma should be an engineering, probably would make more sense :)

 

-Ace

 

hmm... thats a good idea i hadn't thought of that. ( i keep forgetting about the new skill :D ) I think ill change it

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

Yeah an engineer sounds good, but he can also be a carpenter to earn a living in WSC.

 

The only thing I picked up was that on Anitora "The island seems to be one huge marketplace".

It comes to my mind that the marketplace, or trading post, was set up after a route to-from Seridia/Irilion was established. Why would people have a market place on an island with no houses otherwise? :D

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

The only thing I picked up was that on Anitora "The island seems to be one huge marketplace".

It comes to my mind that the marketplace, or trading post, was set up after a route to-from Seridia/Irilion was established. Why would people have a market place on an island with no houses otherwise? :D

 

Yes.... hadn't thought of that either. Though, if there are no people there when he arrives i would need to come up with some way for him to get to Idaloran, and him building another boat with which to sail there dosn't seem to fit. Hmm.... so this could change the summary a lot. I shall revise it accordingly and re-post it.

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

Well maybe he gets marooned on Anitora and while he's fixing his dragon ship a real ship comes by and that's how the Irilion people find out about him and stuff :D

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

The story sounds very interesting and fun to read, packed with adventure. I'll be waiting for the rest of it. Good luck! :P

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

Ok, revised summary, again sorry about the sentence structure i know its horrible :D

 

I didn't change anything in the first paragraph thats the same, but the second is altered to work in Roja's suggestion.

 

Sarma is a gnome; he lives in WS city as an engineer

 

He harbors a great desire to go to new places and find new lands. And decides he will find a way to get to the fabled Irilion. His first idea was to build a boat and sail there. That boat was sabotaged by an enemy of his; he decides he must go about this a different way. A friend of his, an old reclusive mage from Portland gives him a dragon skeleton. He claims the bones still hold in them the power of flight. So Sarma sets to work making, he works alone, Sarma has few friends. Yet many dislike him, and tease him about his goal of making a flying ship with which to reach irillion.

 

Eventually he completes the ship, with the help of the mage he transports it to an island in a bay in the south of Whitestone. From there he leaves, the ship is not flawless though, and he encounters many difficulties, eventually, during a windy storm, his ship crashes into the sea. Tired and cold he stays upon the ship, it floats for days on the seemingly endless sea, until one morning, sure he will die of thirst, Sarma finds his boat washed up on the sandy banks inside a cave. As he leaves to explore he discovers the island of Anitora. The island is deserted, mearely two lumps of sand in the middle of the ocean. He sets to work trying to fix his ship. but there is very few supplies for him on the island. Eventually, he spots a ship sailing by the island. Frantically he catches their attention. The ship stops, surprised at the presence of someone on a deserted island. They take him to Idaloran on the continent of Irillion. There he meets a young gnome that is fascinated by the story of his dragon ship and wants to come help. He manages to get a boat to take him, and his new friend back to the island with supplies. Where they manage to fix the ship and return to Seridia to tell of what they saw. His new friend is fascinated with Seridia and decides to stay. Sarma decides to take people back with him to Irillion to share the wonders of a new land. Slowly Anitora becomes a bustling port city and marketplace, as Sarma continues to ferry people to Irillion.

 

And thats that. I'm begining to work on a rough draft, With nice proper sentence structure. Hope to post it soon, or at least part of it :(

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites
Guest MacNathan

Woot! Another great adventure story is about to be told by Enly! :D

I look forward to it with great anticipation.

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

Woot! Another great adventure story is about to be told by Enly! :icon13:

I look forward to it with great anticipation.

 

the tale of Sarma... he's really one of the NPCs people rarely think about. It's nice to have background information on him since he's so important :)

 

I too, look forward to the elaboration of Sarma's life :icon13:

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

Looking forward to the sentence structure version :)

 

Also, I was wondering...

 

That boat was sabotaged by an enemy of his

Will we get a name? :P Perhaps for future stories to unfold from, or just to add fullness (if that sounds like the right term; I'm tired :rolleyes:). Just wondering...

 

...or perhaps it was 'enemies' since he sounds like the picked-on type, ie bullies.

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

Whitestone is a human city am i correct? And if it is, gnomes would be uncommon there wouldn't they?

 

Just a general question for anyone that might know, as this will affect my story somewhat :icon13:

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

Yes, it is a human city (excluding Tirnwood, it is an Elven settlement)

 

And yes.. gnomes/draegoni/orchans are very uncommon for c1

Edited by Acelon

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

Thank you Acelon, that is what I thought, but I wanted to check before I went to all the trouble of writing something only to be forced to change it. Again, thank you :icon13:

 

First chapter is on the way, I'm busy editing it at the moment, which may take awhile as I completely ignore grammar and spelling as I write, then go back and fix it all later

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

Ok, here it is, chapter 1. As I write I am begining to notice this may be a bit of a long story, I am trying to compress it as best I can, but there is just so much to tell. This is probably not the most action packed and enthraling first chapter, but it establishes the story, I dearly hope it isn't boring :hug: . Anyway, here it is.

 

Chapter 1

An Outcast

 

Quietly, Sarma walked outside the tavern and took a stroll through the darkened city. It was late at night, and he should be getting home. Yet the cool night air felt good after a few too many drinks. Reaching the outskirts of the city he sat down on a rock and leaned back. Above him a stunning blanket of stars twinkled. The two moons hung silently in the darkness, casting their ghostly light upon the city.

He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, this was beautiful, this was peace. Yet, as he sat there, his happiness was marred by the thought of the next day. More ropes to build, work to be done, money to be made or else he would have nowhere to go. With a sigh he picked himself up and headed back towards his house. The few other people on the streets barely looked at him. Sarma was a gnome, and short enough to be easily forgotten. But that suited him, better to be forgotten, than persecuted.

 

° ° ° ° ° °

“That is unacceptable! I ordered twice this! And the quality is horrible as well!” The tall human angrily threw the rope at Sarma. “Out! I shall never do business with a stupid gnome like you again!”

With a scowl Sarma gathered up his merchandise and stalked out of the building. His business was failing fast, and he was running out of options. Making a living in Whitestone City was far more difficult than it seemed. He walked down the streets, now crowded with people in the middle of the day; passing through the market he reached his small home. He cursed as he reached his doorstep, the door was smeared with mud and white paint read ‘stupid gnome’. Gnomes were uncommon in Whitestone; it did get many races and numerous travelers, yet gnomes were not among the most common residents. Therefore, being in the minority Sarma was persecuted. He stored the rope in his room and went to find something to clean the door with. As he walked back towards his door he heard rocks landing on it, as well as yells and jeers from outside. Angrily he threw down the wet rag he was holding and yanked open the door. Outside was not a bunch of kids as he had suspected, rather a small mob of humans. At the head of the group throwing rocks towards his house, was a slender and pale human. He had simple brown hair, and common blue eyes. He was not much of a notable man in anyway, yet Sarma knew his face all to well.

“Hello Groden,” grumbled Sarma. Groden was a young human who delighted in making Sarma’s life as miserable as he could.

“Gnome! How dare you show your face in this city, you try stealing money from our humble people, while you sit rich and fat. You are a thief and an abomination,”

Groden would have continued for quite some time had not Sarma cut him off.

“Enough you lousy weasel, you hate me obviously, now can you not be content and let me go about my life?” Sarma yelled.

Groden smiled wickedly and raised his fist, which held a rock. Sarma paled and jerked inside the door just before the rock hit him. He closed and bolted the door as more rocks pounded the outside of his house.

Sarma walked back to his bedroom and looked around at his few possessions.

“I’m done,” said to the wall. “I’m leaving this sad city never to return,” gathering his things he walked to the rear of his house, next to his small dresser. A metal grate lay there, he pulled it up and slipped inside, and climbed down a ladder into the sewers. Eventually he found another ladder up and climbed back to the city, he was now on the outskirts. Brushing himself off he shouldered his pack and headed towards the gate. He halted as he exited the city, where was he going? He contemplated this for a moment, then looked south. Far away beyond where he could see, was the bay at which his life had first began. Setting out, he thought about what he knew of his origins.

He had been born in the small village of Lakeside; it would be 30 years ago in several weeks. His mother had washed up pregnant on the shores of the Riven sea, she had been found by the villagers of Lakeside and taken to the Inn. Where she had given birth to Sarma, and then died. The villagers had named him Sarma because of a necklace she wore that had the name engraved on it. Reluctantly they had raised him, yet to them he was strange and unnatural. As soon as he was able to fend for himself they turned him out of their homes.

Lot of good they were, thought Sarma to himself. As afternoon creeped into evening he reached lakeside village, he spent nearly all of the evening finding some place to stay. At last he located an old abandoned cabin on the village outskirts that he was told he could have. It was only one room, lacking any furniture whatsoever. He was content despite this though, it was a roof over his head, and walls to keep out any animals. Settling down on the dusty floor he rolled out his blankets, and let sleep take him away from his troubled life.

 

° ° ° ° ° °

 

The next morning he awoke to sun streaming in through the wall’s cracks. He lay there for a while, enjoying the peaceful silence and looking around the room. After a few moments, some board in the corner caught his eye.

Groaning he rolled out of bed to investigate. The floorboards in a square patch at the corner were new and fresh wood, while those around it were old and rotten like the rest of the house. Curious Sarma slid his fingers into a crack between the new wood, and the old. The fresh patch lifted easily from the floor, it hadn’t even been nailed down. Underneath it was not the dirt he had expected, instead there was a hole, with a ladder leading down into the darkness.

Sarma was very intrigued now; throwing caution to the winds he grabbed his lantern and slid himself through the hole and onto the ladder. He climbed slowly down, the passage was tight, even for a small gnome like Sarma, he couldn’t think of how anyone but a child could have gotten through the tunnel.

He thought perhaps a dwarf, but why would a dwarf be digging tunnels in whitestone? They had their own lands and mines, and though they came to whitestone for trade, it was unlikely they would make it a residence long enough to be digging tunnels around the coast.

At long last the shaft opened up into a tunnel running south and slightly west. He stretched his legs for a moment, then stooped to make his way through the tunnel. The ceiling was low and his back ached as he bent over for so long. Small spiders and rats darted in front of him, then back into the shadows.

He began to notice the tunnel was starting to slope up slightly. Suddenly out of the darkness there was a ladder ahead of him, the tunnel ended and turned straight into another shaft, far overhead Sarma could see light. Eager to see what the purpose of this mysterious tunnel was he climbed up as fast as he could.

Stumbling from the darkness into the sudden daylight he looked around. He was on the beach! Stunned he looked behind him. The rocky hills that normally posed an obstacle for anyone trying to reach the beach lay directly to his back. Satisfied with his discovery he stood and looked around. The beach was small and had coarse white sand.

He looked around trying to imagine where his mother had washed up. He had never actually seen the beach before. Few people ever came to it; his mother had been lucky enough to wash up when the villagers had held a celebration on the shore.

Settling himself at the waters edge he stared out to sea. A small island lay in the water not far of shore, beyond that though it was water as far as the eye could see. He silently wondered what lands lay out there, perhaps one full of gnomes? No, gnomes are odd creatures, uncommon remnants of some old race, he thought to himself. What if they aren’t? Questioned a different part of him. What If there are other lands out there with gnomes everywhere? He looked behind him at the rocky hills, at the ladder, which led down to the tunnel and then back to his pitiful cabin.

What do I have here? What do I have to loose? And somewhere deep inside a voice whispered, nothing. I will build a boat, and sail across the oceans until I die or find some land out of legend. Irillion, the fabled continent of Irillion! Myths start somewhere don’t they? He tossed this thought around in his head. Every myth has a grain of truth, perhaps there are lands out there, and if they are, I will find them!

 

And that is the end of chapter 1 :) Chapter 2 is well on its way already, I shall post it as soon as its ready.

Edited by Enly

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

Chapter 2

Dragon bones

 

Sarma grabbed another nail and pounded it into the hull of his boat. It was almost a week now since he had discovered the beach. The villagers seemed perfectly happy that he kept to himself and stayed out of town. He spent his days in the forest, gathering the wood to build a boat. He had spent two days digging out the tunnel and widening it into a large shaft. The floor of his small cabin was now covered in dirt from his excavation, yet he didn’t mind. It was summer and the days were hot and long, while the nights were comfortably cool, he slept on the beach nearly every night.

His boat was coming along quickly, Sarma had nothing else to do, and he spent all his days hard at work on it. Very soon a hull had begun to take shape. It was a small boat, yet he built it strong and sturdy so that it might hold up to the sea. He had been taught to build with wood when he was very young, the people of lakeside often made boats whether they are large or small. Sarma knew very little of sailing though, the only time he had actually been on the sea was a journey from lakeside to Corren village when he had been only a boy. He resolved he would teach himself to sail while at sea, and put no more thought to that matter.

 

° ° ° ° ° °

 

Three weeks after he had arrived at the coast, Sarma decided to take the day off and walked to Grahm’s village. Few people there knew him, and though they stared and gave him scowls, they acted polite enough. He spent the day enjoying the village, then set back towards his home in the evening. He reached his small cabin late at night and decided to sleep inside that night. Drawing his blankets over him he slept soundly unaware of the person that had followed him home from the village.

He awoke then next morning to another fine summer day; it was the month of Viasia, the last of summer. He got out of bed stumbling, and with a slight headache, likely due to the wine from the day before. He crawled into the tunnel and soon found himself on the beach. Blinking sleep from his eyes he yawned loudly and stretched then stopped as his eyes settled on his boat.

He ran towards his boat then swore loudly. The boat was a mess; the wood was shattered and strewn about, then coated with mud and dung. A piece of parchment lay in the sand at the center of the wreckage. Sarma angrily picked it up and read.

 

Little gnomes shouldn’t build boats

-Groden

 

Sarma swore again and punched his fist against a piece of wood. He hit it so hard that the skin on his knuckles cracked and his fingers bled.

“Sarma, calm down old friend,” spoke a voice from behind him. Sarma whirled around in surprise.

“Clark?” asked Sarma shocked. A tall black human stood behind him.

“Who else Sarma? I came to greet you for your birthday, and found that worm ruining your boat, I sent him scurrying away before he did more damage,” said Clark.

“Its to late, he ruined my boat, all that hard work! Now I have to start completely over!”

Clark laughed. “You didn’t know how to sail anyway dear friend, besides, I have brought you a birthday present which I believe will lift your spirits,”

Sarma sat dejectedly in the sand, the wreckage of his work around him. “What could possible lift my spirits from this solemn depression?” he muttered.

Clark was silent for a moment, and then sat down beside Sarma in the sand. Clark was an old friend of Sarma’s one of his few. He was a mage from Portland, and visited Whitestone often, as he was friends with the owner of the city’s magic shop. He had met Sarma once, and the two had fast become friends.

“I have another way for you to complete your goal,” said Clark at last.

Sarma turned puzzled to Clark. “Besides building a boat?”

“Well, it would be a boat, of sorts,” spoke Clark in reply.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, here, let me start at the beginning, it’s a bit of a tale so listen well,”

“Alright,” Sarma looked at Clark expectantly curious what he was talking about.

“Well, long, long ago, before many things happened, there were dragons all across these lands. In the changing of the world, many died, some fled to other lands, some turned from wing to fin, and became creatures of the sea, yet several lingered. One of these that lingered dwelt in the land surrounding Portland. At that time the city was only a village, struggling to survive in the hard times of the world. The dragon roamed their lands unchecked and the people could do little about it. At long last a rescuer came to their aid, his name his long been lost in time, but he is now known as the The Slayer. The Slayer was a powerful mage from a mysterious land across the sea. He defeated the dragon with ancient magic forgotten by us now. The scales he gifted to the villagers of Portland, in the hopes it would help them rebuild their lands plagued by the beast. The scales were worth so much that they helped Portland become not only what it had once been but also more, a thriving port city, rich and grand. The mage took the bones for himself though and hid them away; he settled down in Portland and took an apprentice. Eventually the mage died, and he passed on his position and belongings to his apprentice. Right before his death, the mage told his apprentice that bones had the magic of dragons woven into them, and that they still held the power of flight. He prophesized that one day, someone like him would use the bones to return his body to the land from whence he had come. Time passed, and the world grew and changed. The mages of Portland came and went, passing on their position to an apprentice. Eventually the bones came to me, and I was told what The Slayer had told his first apprentice. Now, here I sit on this beach, I believe you are the one that is to return The Slayer to his ancient home,”

“What? Now this is magic Clark! I can’t do magic!” Sarma had listened politely but this was beginning to seem strange. He wasn’t part of any ancient prophecy.

“I know, it is my job to awaken the spells that came from the time of dragons. It is your job to build the bones into a vessel, and with them venture to The Slayer’s home. I have studied many myths and legends of old, and I believe The Slayer came from Irillion,”

“You think its real then? Irillion?”

“Yes, I do,” Clark stood and beckoned to Sarma. “Come, I want to show you what I have brought, I hid it across the water,”

Sarma stood, and followed Clark to the very edge of the beach.

“I created a hidden path under the water as well,” Clark waded into the water and Sarma watched fascinated, as the water never went above his books. Cautiously Sarma followed, sticking close behind Clark so as not to loose the hidden underwater path. Before he knew it Sarma was standing on the island he had seen, a small cave entrance before him.

Clark ducked his head and went in, Sarma followed. He looked around as his eyes adjusted to the light. He gasped and walked forward, lying on the floor of the cave was the huge skeleton of a dragon. It was laid out flat, yet it was obviously a dragon that was the only monster that huge.

“These are the bones of the dragon killed by The Slayer,” said Clark.

“You want to give them to me?” questioned Sarma completely shocked.

“Yes,” Clark replied simply.

“How does one build a flying ship then? Since you seem to know all about this,” asked Sarma.

Clark smiled. “I’m about to teach you little friend,”

 

 

Uh... yeah, not much to say about it. Chapter 3 to follow within the century :D

 

-edit-

fixed a typo Acelon kindly pointed out. As well as a few I found myself

Edited by Enly

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

I love it, it's really great!

 

Just a comment on this:

Gnomes were uncommon in Whitestone; it did get many races and numerous travelers, yet gnomes were not among the most common residents.

 

He thought perhaps a dwarf, but they were as uncommon in Whitestone as gnomes.

 

Dwarves definetly would be more common that gnomes. They mainly would stick to their lands, but they'd go to WSC to trade(not to live there, although a few may).

 

The draegoni/gnomes/orchans would be really very rare in Seridia before the dragon ship gets built creating travel between continents. With the majority of people never even seeing them, and I'd think Draegoni would be the rarest, with gnomes being the most common out of the 3.

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

Hmmm, alright. As I stated in the sentence after i was going for the fact that dwarves tend to LIVE in their own lands. Perhaps i should make more clear what i meant, how about this:

 

He thought perhaps a dwarf, but why would a dwarf be digging tunnels in whitestone? They had their own lands and mines, and though they came to whitestone for trade, it was unlikely they would make it a residence long enough to be digging tunnels around the coast.

 

That better? ;)

 

(I'll edit it into the story if you approve)

 

-edit-

It has now been added to the story :)

Edited by Enly

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites
Guest MacNathan

As I said before Enly, you have a great talent! This story is even better than the last :P

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

As the story develops and comes together more in my head, I believe it will make more sense for Sarma to end up on Arius in c2, rather than Idaloran as my summary states. Just thought I might mention that intended change in my summary. :P

Edited by Enly

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

Chapter 3 :D

 

Chapter 3

The blessing of the gods

“A little higher, and more to the left,” shouted Sarma as he and Clark positioned another board on the boat’s frame. “There, perfect!”

Sarma nailed in the board as Clark held it up for him. They had been working hard for nearly a month now. The magnificent ship was near completion. Sarma and Clark had built the boat and the dragon bones into one huge structure. Clark had yet to explain exactly how the ship would fly, but Sarma was patient. This boat was much harder to build, it was far bigger, and Clark insisted that everything be a certain way.

After putting in a few more boards, the two of them sat down for a moment of rest.

“Coming along very nicely, don’t you think Clark?” asked Sarma.

“Yes, not much left to do,” responded Clark with a grin.

“How about telling me how it’s going to fly?”

“Patience, I’ll explain in time,”

Sarma scowled but let the subject drop, there was work to be done.

 

° ° ° ° ° °

 

A little over a week later, Sarma and Clark stepped back to admire their work.

“We’re done, aren’t we?” questioned Sarma amazed.

Clark smiled widely. “I believe so little friend, all that remains now is the magic,”

Sarma sat down amazed and looked around. They had knocked out one wall of the cave that had been crumbling stone already nearly completely eroded by seawater. They had then built a huge wooden door over the gap, which would allow them a way to easily get the boat out of the cavern.

Clark had brought something else with the dragon bones as well. A long ornate coffin lay tucked away at the side of the cavern. According to Clark, it held the body of The Slayer, or what was left of it. Apparently The Slayer had come from a race, which at the time was very superstitious about death. The Slayer had wanted his final resting place to be in his home, so that his soul could carry on. Sarma wasn’t to sure about that stuff, but he didn’t especially mind taking a coffin along. Besides the fact it was rather creepy.

The boat itself was the real wonder. A huge ship of wood with an entire dragon skeleton built into it was a sight to behold. Sarma was at a loss for how it would ever fly, but he trusted Clark.

“Well my friend, there are things I need before I can perform the spells necessary. I must return to Portland for a short while to gather them. Do you wish to accompany me? Or remain here with your boat?” Clark looked at Sarma, awaiting his reply.

“As much as I would love to see your fine house again, I would prefer to stay here with my boat. I still fear sabotage, and I need to gather supplies from the village anyway. Who knows how long this journey will be. Its more than likely it will be my last,” Sarma looked regretfully at the dragon ship, he knew what he was getting into, and he didn’t expect to get far. A flying ship was a dangerous thing, and a journey to a continent that may not even exist was as well.

Clark nodded to Sarma, and slipped out quietly not wanting to disturb his friend’s thoughts.

Sarma guessed that his friend would probably be gone until the next day, or later.

 

Sarma headed into town to gather some supplies, food and drink, the basic necessities. Perhaps he could buy some fresh clothes from someone off the street as well. Lakeside village was crowded and bustling with afternoon activity. Boats left the small dock heading towards Corren Village, beggars sat hunched in street corners. And the general store was crowded and busy. Sarma gathered what he needed from the general store, and managed to find someone selling clothes in the streets. Then he head over to the tavern, to get some food for the journey, and to rest and have a drink as well.

At long last he got his drink and settled into a table in the corner. He sighed and closed his eyes after he took a sip from his mug. The usual sounds of a tavern met his ears, laughing, music, talking. It was evening now, and more people came to the tavern.

Relaxed and content he opened his eyes. By chance, or perhaps the will of the gods he opened them to look right at Groden, who was staring at him from the bar. As soon as Groden and Sarma made eye contact, Groden jumped up and ran for the door.

Sarma sat up so quickly he spilled his drink across the table. Cursing he grabbed his things and rushed after Groden. Groden had exited the tavern and was already running full sprint towards Sarma’s cabin. Sarma had the short legs of a gnome, he wasn’t going anywhere fast. He chased after Groden as quickly as he could though.

What is it with him! Sarma thought as he ran. He spends his life trying to ruin mine; it’s beyond just bullying. What purpose does it serve for him! Far ahead of him, Sarma watched Groden dart into his cabin, closing the door behind him. Sarma stumbled towards his house and fell against the door, he turned the old handle and pushed but something was blocking him on the other side. He could hear Groden scrambling into the tunnel.

Enraged Sarma drove his whole body against the door as hard as he could, it wouldn’t budge at all. Standing back from the door panting heavily, Sarma tried to think straight. The back, there was a large crack in the back he could probably widen and get into. He ran around the house and started prying away the boards. Finally a gnome-sized hole was in front of him, he dove through it.

Scrambling to his feet he started towards the tunnel then froze as he glanced towards the door. A cyclops was seated against the door. It slowly turned its lazy eye towards Sarma. Before the cyclops could even begin to get up to attack him, Sarma darted into the tunnel.

As he scrambled through the darkness, things began to fall into place. Groden was a servant of Selain, the god of summoning. That’s how the cyclops had gotten into the cabin. Perhaps the priest had given Groden some mission against Sarma, and that was why he wouldn’t stop harassing him. That didn’t really matter to Sarma; all that mattered was that Groden was already at his boat, tearing it apart.

Sarma reached the end of the tunnel and ran towards the shore, rushing through the water he looked for Groden, he wasn’t anywhere outside. Sarma felt the water splash up onto him as he stumbled as fast as he could towards the island.

He staggered into the cave, with no idea how he would stop Groden if the accursed human was strong enough to summon a cyclops. Luckily for Sarma, it turned out he didn’t have to do anything.

Groden was several feet away from the boat, but he was standing petrified looking at something in front of him. Sarma slipped to the side so he could see around Groden, and stared as well. Standing before Groden, hovering slightly off the floor was a translucent gnome.

“Selain help me,” whispered Groden terrified.

“Away with you! Scum of Selain! You have no business here!” roared the figure. His voice was deep and haunting, and reverberated throughout the cavern.

Groden shook in terror then turned and bolted out of the cave. Sarma was as terrified as Groden and had no idea what to do. The figure turned to him and smiled.

“Return me to my home, so that my soul can rest in peace,” The figure whispered this time, yet Sarma could hear him clearly. A slight breeze came in through the cave entrance, and suddenly the apparition was gone. As Sarma still stood their staring in wonder, the voice of the figure whispered again.

“The gods are watching you Sarma, your decisions will affect the fate of the world. Go with the blessing of the righteous ones,”

Shocked and exhausted Sarma’s knees buckled, and he collapsed into the dirt.

 

Chapter 4 to follow, I suppose thats a little bit of a cliffhanger there, unintentional, but hey, leaves you plenty of room to imagine what comes next :medieval:

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

Oh goodie goodie goodie!! :happy:

Wonderful! You are really good Enly, can't wait for next chapter! :happy:

Keep up the good work :icon13:

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

Chapter 4

To Fly

 

“Sarma, Sarma!” Clarks voice broke through the darkness and Sarma’s eyes cracked open. “What on earth happened!” Clark yelled as soon as he saw Sarma was conscious.

“Clark! Oh dear you’re back? I’ve been out that long?” Sarma was shocked.

“How long? When did this happen? What happened?” Clark was horribly concerned, Sarma tried to explain what happened as Clark listened intently.

“Aluwen have mercy! A ghost?” Clark exclaimed as Sarma finished.

“I guess that was what it was, by all appearances it was the ghost of The Slayer,”

“Amazing, but he didn’t harm you at all? Just scared away Groden?”

“No, never touched me, and he sure scared off Groden. Then he blessed me in the name of the gods!”

“Oh what I would have given to be here! The spirit of The Slayer himself, how lucky you are my friend!”

“I would have gladly traded places with you, it was frightening!”

“Here, drink this,” Clark handed Sarma a vial. “It may taste foul but it will help you feel better,”

Obediently Sarma downed the bottle, it had a bitter taste, yet he began to feel his strength return right away.

“There better?” smiled Clark.

“Yes, thank you,” Sarma nodded and hauled his body to its feet. He stretched his limbs out; lying in the dust for over a day had been quite uncomfortable. He wondered why he had not awakened sooner.

Clark watched Sarma concerned as the gnome looked over the ship; Sarma seemed well enough though, so he figured they could get to work.

“Are you ready then? To make this thing fly?” asked Sarma.

“I suppose, I really am not all to sure what I’m doing, and I have no idea how long it will take,” admitted Clark.

Clark walked silently over to the boat; he stooped to the ground and grabbed a book that sat near the ship’s hull. Flipping through the pages he looked for something. At last he stopped and started reading to himself.

Sarma left him be and took a stroll around the cave, he gave the wall with The Slayer’s coffin a wide berth, helpful or not, ghosts were creepy. Sarma glanced back at Clark who was still reading and exited the cave. Sitting down on the sandy shore he looked towards the mainland.

Am I read for this? He thought to himself. Am I really going to leave behind everything I know in search of a land that is likely a myth? He scratched a stick in the sand as he thought about it, he wasn’t leaving behind much. But this was all so much for him, an appearance of a ghost, the blessing of the gods, the knowledge that whatever he did would have lasting effects on the world. He had just wanted to get away from the persecution of his home. At first the idea for leaving was not really with a goal for getting anywhere, it was more of a suicidal mission in order to make himself feel like he would die doing something noble. Now, Clark was casting spells to make a ship fly, perhaps he would actually make it through this. Do I want to make it through this?

Sarma stood and looked at the mainland again, then turned and walked into the cave. There was no backing out now, he would go, and what would come would come.

“Ready yet Clark?” shouted Sarma to his friend who was in the boat.

Clark’s head peered out of the vessel. “Nearly, I’m trying to set up the proper equipment so you can steer this dragon,”

Sarma sat against the cave wall and watched the boat quietly as he listened to Clark rummaging around inside. There was a flash of green light and Clark yelped. Sarma jumped up worried.

“Clark?” Sarma yelled.

“I’m alright, rudimentary mistake, not to worry,” Clark replied quickly.

Sarma was concerned, yet there was really nothing he could do, it was all up to Clark now. A few more minutes passed and Clark continued to scramble throughout the boat. Finally he went to the front and sat down, Sarma could just make him out through the one glass window they had put into the ship.

Clark laid his hands on the boat on either side of him then began to murmur something under his breath. The book he had been looking at was in front of him he was reading whatever ancient spell the pages had hidden on them. This continued for several minutes before suddenly the entire vessel flashed red for several seconds, the light then faded to a orange, and eventually the glow was gone all together, leaving the boat sitting looking just as it had before. Clark jumped out of the boat.

“I think I did it!” he said with glee.

“You think?” Sarma questioned a little unsure.

“I did it,” Clark said with more confidence. “This boat will now fly. For how long or far, I do not know I’m afraid. Nor do I know how fast, this was an ancient spell not used for centuries, I can only hope it will work well enough to get you to Irillion,”

“So how do I fly it?” asked Sarma confused.

“Come here, its quite simple,” Clark scrambled back into the boat and Sarma followed.

“I have connected the entire spell to this orb here,” Clark pointed to a round small glowing ball that lay in a rounded out circle on the floor. The orb was only a little bigger than a fist.

“Place your hand on the orb,” instructed Clark. Sarma hesitated, and then reluctantly placed his hand on the orb. His fingers tingled and he yanked away.

“It is alright, it won’t hurt you,” laughed Clark. Sarma smiled nervously and put his hand down again. “Perfect, now all you have to do is move the orb. There is an invisible circle of magic enclosing the orb that it can’t leave. Just image that orb as the boat, you move it up, the boat goes up, you move it forward the boat goes forward. Understand?”

“Yes, I suppose. How in the world did you do this?”

Clark only winked, then backed out of the vessel. Sarma followed and they stood looking at it.

“When do you leave Sarma?” asked Clark. Sarma noticed a hint of sadness in his friend’s voice.

“Can’t you come with me?” Sarma questioned quietly.

“I’d love to! But I just can’t, unlike you I have responsibilities here on Seridia. You did not answer my question, when do you leave?”

Sarma looked around for several moments, thinking about it. He knew Clark would appriciate Sarma staying another night or two, allowing the two of them time to talk and say goodbye. Thats not what Sarma wanted though, he wanted to leave and explore as soon as possible. Finally Sarma answered.

"Tomorrow morning," he said "I want a chance to rest before I rush away,"

Clark smiled relieved, he had thought Sarma would leave right away without spending time on proper farewells.

“I loaded your supplies onto the ship while you were out,” spoke Clark. “I see you have enough for only a week,”

“Yes, I don’t want to be floating around in the middle of nowhere for anymore than a week. I’ll be done if I don’t make it in a week,”

Clark frowned but said nothing. He and Sarma spent the rest of the day talking, reminiscing on the time they had spent together.

The two had met long ago; Clark had been staying with his friend who owned the magic shop in Whitestone City. Sarma had run into him at a tavern and the two had struck up a conversation. They were instant friends, and sent letters back and forth when Clark was at home in Portland. Sarma had traveled to Clark’s home in Portland once and learned Clark’s daily life at his magic shop. Sarma had been with Clark as he tried many different new spells, and stood by his friend when Clark tried to teach them to residence of Portland.

By far one of the most memorable times for both of them was when they had traveled to the city of Corren. The two had spent the night in the tavern and always remembered getting kicked out after they had gotten drunk and started singing.

It was sad to relive so many memories, and know that they would soon be parting, perhaps forever. When finally morning came and Clark was ready to bid Sarma goodbye, he had very little to say.

“Good bye my friend, I pray that you will return to tell me of the wonderful lands you have discovered,” he said sadly.

“I hope the same Clark, goodbye, I can’t begin to thank you for all you have done,” Sarma smiled.

“Oh, there is one more thing you can’t forget!” Clark gestured to the coffin.

“Ah, yes, of course, help me get it into the ship will you?”

Clark and Sarma carried the coffin into the boat and set it down.

“More than likely the old Slayer will have his final resting place at the bottom of the sea,”

“Don’t be so pessimistic Sarma! You have the blessing of the gods!”

“I suppose I do,” Sarma embraced his old friend in a final farewell.

“Goodbye Sarma,” whispered Clark as he left the ship. He walked around to the front of it and pushed open the huge wooden doors that left the cavern, they were bewitched to be light enough for one man, or gnome to open.

Sarma placed his hand on the small orb, and pushed it up and forward, he held his breath in amazement as the boat rose slightly into the air, and then moved slowly forward. He steered it cautiously from the cave. Clark stood in the cave still a hand up in farewell, Sarma returned the gesture then pushed the orb higher. The boat rose into the air further, Sarma nudged the orb farther forward this time and it went faster, heading away from the island, away from Seridia!

Sarma began to laugh as the amazing structure glided above the water. A sudden elation came over him as he relized that he was actually flying. “I’m flying,” he said to himself with joy, he yelled it aloud to the air a huge smile on his face. “I’m flying!”

 

I'm not very fond of this chapter, I thought I would change it but decided not to. I still don't like it much though, so its possible I could suddenly revise it.

 

-edit- fixed a place where I used Clark where I should have put Sarma

Edited by Enly

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

Create an account or sign in to comment

You need to be a member in order to leave a comment

Create an account

Sign up for a new account in our community. It's easy!

Register a new account

Sign in

Already have an account? Sign in here.

Sign In Now
Sign in to follow this  

×