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Post by fruitbat on Jul 3, 2013 10:04:42 GMT
Excellent. I get the idea of where the story is heading next and I like it. I will give it some thought and continue on in the morning (it's my night at the moment - I'm in Melbourne) when I have better focus. Back soon!
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Post by kei on Jul 3, 2013 10:06:50 GMT
 Good night Fruitbat |
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Post by fruitbat on Jul 4, 2013 2:59:22 GMT
Wide awake now. Here is my suggested next bit:
“Sir, I will do as you request, but I fear our offering may be insufficient.”
“Ahura, for the sake of the cargo, it’s a risk I am willing to take.”
Tegraine was less afraid of the hostile beings than he was about the books in his care. As soon as Ahura had finished her transmission, Tegraine made his way to the hold to assess the damage to the cargo. As he feared, the missile had caused a hole large enough for at least two humanoids to pass through, and he could see that several of the neatly parceled tomes were damaged. What he feared most was assessing which of the precious volumes had been lost, possibly forever. An idea struck him.
“Was there a way,” he thought, “that Ahura could replay the ship’s flight record to calculate the exact time of impact and cross reference this with their position to obtain the likely trajectory that the lost books would have made?” It was certainly possible. Ahura could do many things, unless, of course, the vital circuitry that allowed her to access this information was now also damaged. They had taken several hits since the one that had brought them down. Tegraine frowned at the jagged opening that had destroyed his ship and moved behind the book stacks to keep out of sight. If the hostile beings saw him in here, he knew his life would most probably be terminated. He reminded himself that skills in combat were not something he had been taught on Yarbril.
Just as Tegraine moved out of sight, he became aware of a sound close by the breach. Tegraine tried to slow his breathing and strained to hear. The sound was getting closer but was too muddied by the echo of the ship’s interior for clear identification. With some trepidation, Tegraine focused his third eye to give him a view of what was happening outside. It was then that he saw them: a small group, possibly five or six beings of various heights and breadths, peering into the breach, metres from where he stood. He realised that the sound he had heard was their language. They communicated in a strange series of tones and clicks. The scholar in Tegraine was momentarily distracted as he listened to the alien sounds, thinking about the possibilities for archival enrichment that learning and transcribing this fascinating new language would bring about. Then he remembered, they were hostile and his close proximity placed him in peril.
“Professor, please state your location. I am unable to find you.” Ahura’s voice broke through the ship’s still functioning communication system. The voices outside the ship stopped. Tegraine knew they had heard Ahura and were listening. “Sir?” Not receiving his response, Ahura continued. “Where are you? Please state your location. The unidentified life forms were not satisfied with our offering. They repeated their demand for all of our cargo or our destruction is imminent. Sir, I believe a group of them have left their ship and are now seeking entry to our own. Professor, if you do not state your location, I am unable to secure your safety.”
Tegraine knew that he had no choice. Either way, he was trapped. Tegraine drew a deep breath and stepping out from behind the books, spoke in a clear voice.
“Ahura, I am here, in the hold, and it appears I am about to receive company.”
Tegraine stood very upright as the beings he had witnessed outside the damaged ship crawled swiftly into the hold. He noted that each of them moved with speed and grace, despite their variety of statures. He was face to face with the hostile beings.
“My name is Tegraine,” announced the Professor. “You are standing before the universe’s most extensive collection of rare and ancient archival material. I am their guardian.”
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Post by kei on Jul 4, 2013 8:16:32 GMT
Whoa! wow.okay. a very rich piece full of possibilities, ah, now i'm formulating a follow on idea. I can work with this, just need a few hours to think. hmmm...
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Post by fruitbat on Jul 4, 2013 9:55:58 GMT
Hope I haven't taken things off course. I was keen to introduce the Backlighters as I liked the idea of them and get them involved in the story but please feel free to change things if this is too early on for them. As you can see, I got quite involved!
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Post by kei on Jul 4, 2013 10:01:32 GMT
nah its very cool. and I love the idea of this clicking language. I'm happy with the direction it's taking Just figuring out the wording for the next piece. |
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james
Junior Member
Posts: 90 
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The Story
Jul 4, 2013 10:35:20 GMT
via mobile
Post by james on Jul 4, 2013 10:35:20 GMT
Ace! I can't copy and paste at the mo. Could some one paste my paragraph into the written in ink forum? Cheers James
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Post by kei on Jul 4, 2013 10:41:15 GMT
Got it James - will do
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Post by kei on Jul 4, 2013 12:07:54 GMT
Here's my next idea
One man, human, stepped forward and spoke clearly in the galactic language of the universe; “You have been warned have your crew step aside whilst we take your cargo or suffer the fate of death.”
Tegraine held his ground giving an appearance of complete fearlessness while his third eye began searching around for something to help him. “ I carry only books, books. And a good supply of coffee, all other supplies are running low. I carry nothing of worth to you.”
His third eye settled on a book, the book he had found in the space stations of Kapetika. It told the story of a temperamental dwarf with a good strong axe and no love for humans.
Turning all three eyes to the pirates Tegraine continued; “I have the commission to find these books and take them back to Yarbill. As a guardian of the library it is a commission I must guard with my life. Will you not step aside and allow me to continue my journey?”
The human looked from side to side at his companions of other species and the clicking language continued with a note of hilarity. Focussing back on Tegraine the human put one leg forwards and drawing a gun he placed his arm on his knee pointing the gun loosely in Tegraines direction.
“Step aside, guardian, your commission is done.”
Focusing his third eye on the book of the dwarf the professor closed his main eyes and began to mutter under his breath, the pirates stepped back as the air around Tegraine began to prickle with magic. Then, with a cry one of the pirates charged forward his wings thrusting him forwards with an alarming speed.
The professor, all of his focus on bringing help out of the book didn’t hear the cry of the charge or the warning given by Ahrua but his eyes snapped open as the iron shoulder cracked into his own knocking him to the ground. The magic broke and shards flew all over this ship.
Books were bursting open around him.
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The Story
Jul 4, 2013 19:52:08 GMT
via mobile
Post by fruitbat on Jul 4, 2013 19:52:08 GMT
Terrific next section, kei. I love the tension. Great how you've brought in the books coming to life.
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james
Junior Member
Posts: 90
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Post by james on Jul 6, 2013 18:54:25 GMT
Sorry for the delay!
Pure white light streamed from the book of the dwarf, filling the room. The watchers were blinded. As the light ebbed back into the book, the consciousness of the watchers was dragged along. Words that only the librarian could read sped across the vision of the watchers, but despite the differences in language all the watchers experienced the events in the book...
Stacius shuffled his feet forward, the noise they made was sucked away instantly by the shale that coated the tunnel. He had a sudden fear that he had travelled too fast and too far away from his party. The second he turned his head to look, the Scuttler that had been hanging from the ceiling ahead launched itself at him. The suit's movement sensors squealed a warning that saved his life. He thrust the haft of his axe forward, keeping the head by his shoulder. The haft took the force of the blow that was meant to knock him backwards, and leave his throat exposed. Stacius staggered before falling backwards trying to push the Scuttler away as it flailed its legs leaving deep gouges in his abdomen plate. He was yelling nonsensically at the top of his voice. He brought his knees up towards his chest, instinctively trying to protect his groin and midsection from the slashing legs. He tried pushing with his axe, any pretence of technique rapidly falling away as the crawler settled on top of him. Its legs started methodically hunting for the edges of his armour. He tried to roll, to throw the monstrosity off himself, but he could barely move. He stopped yelling; all he could hear was his own panicked breathing. The hot air from his lungs was rebounding off his face plate, stinging his eyes. Suddenly the Scuttler sprouted an axe blade from its side. As the Scuttler changed its focus away from him Stacius tried to curl up, afraid of the swinging laser blades of his fellow dwarfs that were hacking at the dying beasts.
As the weight of the Scuttler left him completely he kicked his legs, still on his back, he pushed himself away from the thing as fast as he could, only stopping when his back soundlessly hit the shale.
His breath was coming out in panicked gasps as he frantically checked himself all over for blood. He remembered the marble white face of his friend Ysac, still smiling in victory having just killed a Scuttler, not realising that the Scuttler had also killed him by opening his femoral artery. He had died seconds after the creature's own death. His panic raised in pitch, suddenly he felt like he was fainting, his vision contracted to a single pinprick of light. When his vision expanded again he found himself sprawled inside some kind of metal cavern, strangers, human and alien surrounded him. He fought down his panic as he reached for his axe.
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Post by kei on Jul 8, 2013 9:19:40 GMT
very cool James! what a ride! and I just love the name Stacius, it feels like you're in your element in writing this piece.
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Post by fruitbat on Jul 8, 2013 11:01:29 GMT
I like the new section introducing the Dwarf character, James. I will write a new bit tomorrow. I think I might introduce the Pixie character (will have to think of a name for her) but will see how the ideas flow once I get started.
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Post by kei on Jul 8, 2013 11:03:05 GMT
Its a good idea - there's certainly enough magic in the air to draw in our characters and maybe one or two others. |
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Post by fruitbat on Jul 9, 2013 1:44:15 GMT
Hello again. So what I have decided to do in this section is continue Tegraine's story rather than Stacius' as I felt that might be something James would like to do rather than have me take it off on a tangent you hadn't intended. As you will see, I mention that Stacius is nearby helping to keep the Backlighters at bay, but what is happening in that regard, I will leave up to James at it is your character. I have now introduced my pixie, just at the end of my next section. I have decided that she will be called Raisa. Anyway, enough waffling. Here it is:
Tegraine felt the cold metal beneath him as consciousness began to return. Experimentally, he raised his left index finger and found it was still working. His head ached. With his third eye, he tried to take stock of his surroundings whilst keeping his main eyes closed. He was no longer on the ship, of that he was sure. The surrounding walls echoed with the sound of conflict. Not too far away someone, or something was putting up quite a fight. The librarian reached out with his third eye and saw that he was in a dark cavern. It was unlike anything he had encountered before. He was surrounded by something familiar but he sensed no other being close by. He was alone here, although he knew that others were not far away. He listened hard to make sense of the sounds. A deep voice he recognised bellowed a familiar battle cry. It could be no other than Stacius, the dwarf. Tegraine could hear that he was engaged in fighting off what sounded like far more than one opponent but he knew from all he had read on his world that Stacius could more than hold his own. Unlike him, he was a warrior.
Tegraine tried to move his other fingers on his left hand; the right was trapped beneath something very heavy. It ached abominably but one by one, he managed to regain use of the full five digits. He tried to feel around him in the darkness. His third eye seemed hazy and its vision was limited in this strange environment. As Tegraine moved his arm, he realised that it was not just his hand that ached. His arm, neck, head and shoulder all sang with pain when he tried to move them. As for his legs, he wasn’t even sure that he could still feel them at all.
He tried to recall what had happened. He remembered being in the hold, facing those strange creatures. What were they? Renegades or a deputation from Khula’s governing body? Tegraine hoped it was the former. If he could find out where he was right now and get Ahura to send out a message to Khula’s real leaders, explain his purpose here, he was sure this matter could be resolved.
Tegraine listened again to the sounds of battle coming from a nearby chamber. It sounded as if Stacius was doing a bit of his own resolving already. He hoped that this would not jeopardise their chances of a cordial welcome here. Stacius had come from one of his books, after all. He was one of his crew. He had pulled him out of his world because he knew he would be a useful ally and right now, he sounded as if he were being very useful indeed. He was keeping the rebels away from him, buying him time. With a jolt, the professor realised that time was the one thing he could not waste. He had to get moving. With a supreme effort of will, the librarian used his left hand to try to release his right from whatever held it prisoner. He gave it a sharp tug, which was followed instantly by a booming crash, the echo in the metal cavern resonating like thunder. With his right arm free, Tegraine performed the simple spell that brought forth light enough for him to see his immediate surroundings. Now he could see why he was unable to feel his legs. Stacks of heavy tomes pinioned the lower half of his body. On every side, there were towers of books. His books. One large pile to his right, now scattered severally about the floor had, until recently, trapped his right hand. Tegraine rubbed his aching hand and frowned. His books were safe; at least the pirates had been curious enough to take them from the ship. But how had they got them here so quickly? There were thousands! Unless he had been unconscious for longer than he realised? Unless there had been far more rebels on board that ship than the librarian was aware of? And what of Ahura? What had become of his trusty interface, his ship’s protector? Tegraine felt his anger rise at the thought that they may have removed her circuits or worse, destroyed her completely. She had taken years to build and many months to program. If there was one thing Tegraine hated it was seeing vital resources destroyed. That was why, he supposed, he was the guardian of such a valuable resource as the library and why he had to protect it at all costs, even if it meant with his life.
As he attempted to wiggle the feeling back into both sets of toes, his right foot jerked involuntarily and knocked a large volume from one of the piles of books. Tegraine recognised it immediately. It was the book on gothic fashion he had been working on when all this business had begun. The pixie winked back at him through the front cover, just as she always had.
“Time to call up a little more help,” whispered the librarian. Focusing all his remaining energy on the book, Tegraine pushed out. A shard of brilliant white light cut through the darkness and then there was silence.
Tegraine uncovered his eyes to see black smoke tinged with wisps of purple emanating from the Book of Goth. On the now open pages, no bigger than two feet high, sat a small pixie, her knees drawn up to her chin, shivering with cold. Her large, dark eyes regarded the librarian balefully.
“Well? What are you staring at? Get me a blanket! It’s the least you can do for bringing me here. You know I hate the cold!”
The librarian began to chuckle, more from relief than amusement.
“Hello, Raisa. I see that the last century has done little to improve your mood.”
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Good night Fruitbat
