Manbatapus
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Here is the beginning section of a novel that I have started work on, presently going by the title "Trial by Fire". It is a fantasy novel based in an entirely fictional world. All characters and places belong to me.
Feedback and constructive criticism are appreciated. Thank you for your time.
***
The wild waters of the Ebony Sea threw the ship back and forth like toy, but the Azakul held true. The large figures on the deck ran wildly from station to station, keeping the ship from ruin. The Azakul was a hundred foot wooden ship, propelled by sail and oar. The prow of the ship was carved in the caricature of a Dragon of ages past, its jaws open wide to devour any that stood in its way. At the prow of the ship, the largest of the beings on board stood there absent-mindedly, despite the torrential downpour that assailed them. He stood with a proud gait, his gore-red scales glistening with moisture, one back-jointed leg on the deck, the other on the prow, idly running his clawed hands over the long black lance he held, his fingers running over the engraved dragon that coiled around it. “Chieftain.” He turned his head to meet the reptilian visage of one of his crew. A fledgling, whose horns had barely begun to sprout, whereas his were fully grown, curled like that of a goat. “Our destination is visible. We should arrive soon.” The chieftain nodded in approval. The crewman stood only eight feet, whereas the chieftain stood at a towering ten feet, though the blood-line of the chieftain was much stronger than that of a simple crewman. Also, where the chieftains scales were red, the crewmans’ were a bright silver, akin to metal.
“Will we make it by daybreak?” The chieftain rumbled, his voice similar to that of a landslide.
“We would have to push the crew to the extreme, chiefain.” A gust of wind punished the ship, knocking the smaller Drakkarin to his knees, while the larger remained straight.
“Make anchor. We will continue at daybreak.” The crewman nodded, but seemed hesitant to leave the chieftains side.
“What else?”He asked, turning to face the whelp fully. “I do not mean to insult you, mighty Kharaddon, but the weather out here is not suited for the captain of a ship, much less the chieftain of-“
Kharaddon roared to the sky, releasing a plume of harsh, crimson flame that turned the rain to a mist in an instant. The deckhand stumbled backwards, his eyes fearful at such a display of power. The chieftain grabbed the Drakkarin by the neck and drew him up, holding him in a grip two feet above the ground. “Relay my orders.” Kharaddon growled, throwing the deckhand to the deck. “And bring me Balgor. We have matters to discuss.”
Feedback and constructive criticism are appreciated. Thank you for your time.
***
The wild waters of the Ebony Sea threw the ship back and forth like toy, but the Azakul held true. The large figures on the deck ran wildly from station to station, keeping the ship from ruin. The Azakul was a hundred foot wooden ship, propelled by sail and oar. The prow of the ship was carved in the caricature of a Dragon of ages past, its jaws open wide to devour any that stood in its way. At the prow of the ship, the largest of the beings on board stood there absent-mindedly, despite the torrential downpour that assailed them. He stood with a proud gait, his gore-red scales glistening with moisture, one back-jointed leg on the deck, the other on the prow, idly running his clawed hands over the long black lance he held, his fingers running over the engraved dragon that coiled around it. “Chieftain.” He turned his head to meet the reptilian visage of one of his crew. A fledgling, whose horns had barely begun to sprout, whereas his were fully grown, curled like that of a goat. “Our destination is visible. We should arrive soon.” The chieftain nodded in approval. The crewman stood only eight feet, whereas the chieftain stood at a towering ten feet, though the blood-line of the chieftain was much stronger than that of a simple crewman. Also, where the chieftains scales were red, the crewmans’ were a bright silver, akin to metal.
“Will we make it by daybreak?” The chieftain rumbled, his voice similar to that of a landslide.
“We would have to push the crew to the extreme, chiefain.” A gust of wind punished the ship, knocking the smaller Drakkarin to his knees, while the larger remained straight.
“Make anchor. We will continue at daybreak.” The crewman nodded, but seemed hesitant to leave the chieftains side.
“What else?”He asked, turning to face the whelp fully. “I do not mean to insult you, mighty Kharaddon, but the weather out here is not suited for the captain of a ship, much less the chieftain of-“
Kharaddon roared to the sky, releasing a plume of harsh, crimson flame that turned the rain to a mist in an instant. The deckhand stumbled backwards, his eyes fearful at such a display of power. The chieftain grabbed the Drakkarin by the neck and drew him up, holding him in a grip two feet above the ground. “Relay my orders.” Kharaddon growled, throwing the deckhand to the deck. “And bring me Balgor. We have matters to discuss.”
***