Fatmankev
Chef, Writer, and Midnight Toker
- Reaction score
- 240
This is the prologue to the novel I'm working on developing that hosts the characters I've posted in Cross' Build-A-Character thread. In the spoiler tags, I've got the first few paragraphs so you can decide if you think it might be interesting, 'cuz the prologue is twelve pages long and I know a lot of people don't have time to read that kinda stuff. It's based off of an old story I've got posted on the WC called Hellhounds, which is a lot shittier and has terrible, soap-operaesque dialogue. I aimed to make this a bit more interesting and the dialogue more believable, and an overall decent story, so I hope some of you have the time to check it out and give me your comments. I'd love to know what I can do to make it better, to improve it; as much as I love hearing that it was a good read, it doesn't help me write a better story, you know?
Anyway, thanks to all that check it out. I really appreciate it.
Anyway, thanks to all that check it out. I really appreciate it.
Tertia held his hand over his eyes, scanning the vastness of the valley sprawled out before him. The trees and vegetation were thick, there, much thicker than it was at his altitude, and he knew it’d make for slow-going. He growled to himself, trying to quell his anger as he stared into the soft orange glow of sun, trying to map the rate of its rapid descent. He guessed that he had about two hours until the sun made its way past the horizon, casting their world into shadow, and leaving him yet another day behind. He growled again, his earlier efforts to calm himself having failed, and lashed out at a nearby oak with the side of his fist. The tree cracked and shuddered, huge slivers bursting out and splintering off of the opposite side of the tree, and Tertia clenched his fist at the inconvenience; he was patient, no doubt, and prideful in his capacity to wait until the exact right moment until acting, but after more than one hundred years of searching, his patience had run well dry.
The Gate. That damned Gate. He’d searched the world twice over without so much as a hint as to its whereabouts. There’d been stories and myths, legends of a time when the Gate was first created between the worlds and the horrors of Abyssus were able to escape freely into their world, but they were only that. Only legends. Of course, Tertia knew that there was truth behind them, but relics of knowledge from ages long before even his time did him little good. Tertia grinned, in spite of himself. It had done them little good, as well, but they wouldn’t have the chance to gripe as Tertia did. Still, he’d traveled far and searched day and night, through rain or sun, in the sweltering summers and the frozen winters. He’d searched the cities and towns, the kingdoms and villages, the forests and the deserts and the tundras all across Mundus, all in vain. So far, he’d gotten no further than he had when he’d first begun his search. No further, but there’d been a lot of blood.
And for that, he held no regret.
He opened and closed his hand. No feeling, as usual. Stretching his neck out to either side, he rolled his head in a quick circle to pop his spine a bit and continued his descent down the mountainside, trying to cover as much distance as he could in the remaining light. He could see his goal, a small, riverside village almost in the center of the valley, the torches flickering into existence as they were lit one-by-one. It was tiny, secluded, and cut off from most of the rest of the world. His blood started racing as the excitement welled up in him, coursing through his veins. Where better to hide a prophet than in the middle of nowhere? Its obvious simplicity was almost amusing. He forced his breathing to even, calming his racing heart, forcing his hopefulness aside; he’d been close before, he’d thought, only to come to another dead end. There was no reason to suspect that this time would be any different, but there was something about this place, something he could feel. Whether it was in the air or his bones, he couldn’t tell, but it damn well didn’t matter. If this human could answer his questions, then all of his efforts would be realized. Realized, and vengeance would be at hand. Tertia grinned all the wider.
He couldn’t wait.
The Gate. That damned Gate. He’d searched the world twice over without so much as a hint as to its whereabouts. There’d been stories and myths, legends of a time when the Gate was first created between the worlds and the horrors of Abyssus were able to escape freely into their world, but they were only that. Only legends. Of course, Tertia knew that there was truth behind them, but relics of knowledge from ages long before even his time did him little good. Tertia grinned, in spite of himself. It had done them little good, as well, but they wouldn’t have the chance to gripe as Tertia did. Still, he’d traveled far and searched day and night, through rain or sun, in the sweltering summers and the frozen winters. He’d searched the cities and towns, the kingdoms and villages, the forests and the deserts and the tundras all across Mundus, all in vain. So far, he’d gotten no further than he had when he’d first begun his search. No further, but there’d been a lot of blood.
And for that, he held no regret.
He opened and closed his hand. No feeling, as usual. Stretching his neck out to either side, he rolled his head in a quick circle to pop his spine a bit and continued his descent down the mountainside, trying to cover as much distance as he could in the remaining light. He could see his goal, a small, riverside village almost in the center of the valley, the torches flickering into existence as they were lit one-by-one. It was tiny, secluded, and cut off from most of the rest of the world. His blood started racing as the excitement welled up in him, coursing through his veins. Where better to hide a prophet than in the middle of nowhere? Its obvious simplicity was almost amusing. He forced his breathing to even, calming his racing heart, forcing his hopefulness aside; he’d been close before, he’d thought, only to come to another dead end. There was no reason to suspect that this time would be any different, but there was something about this place, something he could feel. Whether it was in the air or his bones, he couldn’t tell, but it damn well didn’t matter. If this human could answer his questions, then all of his efforts would be realized. Realized, and vengeance would be at hand. Tertia grinned all the wider.
He couldn’t wait.