Chapter Excerpt: Valley of the Dead, 2/3

Excerpt of a Chapter in a Fantasy work that is part of a hopefully epic saga. It is very incomplete in and of itself.

This is an excerpt of a chapter of a Fantasy book. For context, there are five main characters (four of whom speak here, I believe), Stephanie, Stacy, Andrew, Timothy and Patrick. A sixth character, Bruskar, is a local sage and serving as a guide during a perilous part of the main characters' adventure.

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They pushed past the vines that hung as though sentries, posted to mind the entrance to this long-damned place. As soon as they were past the rusty, broken gates, the air went still. The gentle woodland breezes they'd noticed as they descended into the valley seemed to all but disappear at they passed through the gates. The air was thick with the stench of rotten plants and deep, foul bogs that spread out before them. With a wistful look back towards the oaks and the willows behind them, they continued on their journey.

As they pushed further along, the thicker the air became, the ranker the smell, and the fouler the feeling. No doubt there was a reasonable explanation for the genuine sickening feeling they had in the stomachs: gases, lack of air, any number of reasons. But none were offered by any of the new arrivals who might have been of a mind to do so. The heavy stillness of the place seemed to force silence on them.

The path from the gate ran very nearly straight, with few twists and turns, but as it did, the bog, the swamp and the weeping cypress-like trees began to move closer and closer towards it's edges. It was not long before the path was winnowed down by the swamp into a narrow strip of sward, ultimately forcing the group to trudge single file on nothing more than a band of firm bog, held close by the foul, oozing mire around them.

Despite the dampness and lush, if foul, vegetation all around, the companions found themselves beset by no insects of any kind. What's more, there was not a single croak, hiss or chirrup of any creature as one would expect to find in such a pace. Not a flutter of wings, nor sounds of water being broken by something-or-other leaping in or out of the ponds and pools all about them. Like the air itself, not a thing stirred.

The only movement at all was that of the weary yet nervous travelers, who had they put much thought to it, might have rethought this venture entirely. Instead, the group trudged on, into the Valley of the Dead, the meaning of the name becoming clearer with each moistened, silent footfall.

Not too deeply along into their treak, the path came to what could only be described as a fork, though neither tine was really much of a trail at all anymore. Down each path the bog seemed to be claiming more and more of what well-trod path might once have been, leaving but tufts of earth and chunks of sward.

Bruskar came to a halt, and finally broke the silence of the valley, his normally quiet voice seeming far louder than it should have, for the eerie quiet of the place. “We must choose” he informed his companions. “I know not which path is the right one, though this path” he said, pointing in the direction which they'd been generally heading “seems to be the direction we should go. We are at the lowest part of the valley now, and the trees and haze prevent me from being sure which direction is which anymore.”

“Well that doesn't make me feel too confident” Patrick replied.

“Knock it off” Timothy shot back.

“No, he's right” Bruskar replied, brushing off any sign of being insulted by the remark. “I'm not confident either. That is why we stopped, so that I could ask you all to help make the decision. We should sit down and take time to commune with our own gods, and perhaps they will see fit to send us to our destiny.”

“Our God doesn't work that way” Stacy said. “We can't exactly stop and call him up, asking for directions.”

“He does not?” Bruskar replied quizzically.

“Don't go listening to her” Stephanie burst in. “Where we come from, not everyone listens to our God, or even believes in Him anymore. Some have never stopped to ask his guidance, and wouldn't even know how to listen for an answer.”

“So God gives you directions when you get lost, Steph” Stacy asked, the sarcasm dripping as heavily as the swamp air. “You probably saved money when it was time to get a GPS system.”

“You knock it off too” Timothy interjected again.

Stacy responded by rolling her eyes and crossing her arms across her chest, removing herself from the discussion.

“I don't see how it could hurt, really” Andrew broke in. “If you're not the praying type, just keep quiet while Bruskar and Stephanie and whoever else wants to, does it.”

“How do you pray for an answer, Steph?” Timothy asked. He'd never really thought about prayer with any particular depth before. You learned your prayers, you said them at church, and before bed when you were young, and that was it. But in this place, where nothing made sense, things taken for granted, or not thought upon, needed a second look with new and open eyes.

“Well, you're not really asking a question and waiting for a voice to answer, like a response or something” she replied, happy that someone was at least listening to her and considering the idea. “You think about the problem, and just sort of conduct your side of a conversation with God from your end. You think it out in your head, ask Him for answers, just talk with Him. Keep talking with Him, and if you're asking the right questions, with a clear heart, the answer will become obvious to you.”

A sound of contemptuous disapproval came from Stacy's direction, and she was met by a few cold stares, and maybe a chuckle from somewhere in the group.

“Is that how you talk to your gods, Bruskar?” Stacy then asked, though with not nearly the same level of sarcasm she'd aimed at Stephanie just moments before.

“Well, no” he replied. “But I do not think we are praying to the same gods, so I am not surprised you would use different methods.”

Stephanie, empowered by the deference she'd thus far received, replied “There's only one God, Bruskar. So while you may call Him something else, and pray to Him differently, he's still the same God.”

“One god! Oh my, no! There are many, many gods” he replied almost laughing. “Even among my people we have gods of earth and sea and stone, of the sun and the moon, and more. To say nothing of the spirits who watch over us. Or the spirits and gods of our enemies, the ones who stalk us to take advantage in times of weakness. No, there are many gods, Stephanie. Of this I am sure, so whatever way you are praying to yours is your own.”

“Now Bruskar” Stephanie began to reply, a touch of annoyance in her voice.

“Can it, Steph” Patrick broke in. “Y'all can have any manner of religious debate later if you really feel the need to. But for now, we have to get through this rotten place, and the sooner the better.”

It was Stephanie's turn to stand arms crossed, stung, with a mild scowl upon her face.

“Come, no more bickering, my young friends” Bruskar said. “We must all be of sound, calm hearts and minds to pray to any god at all. So let us find that place we need to be so that we can pray. I will make my preparations, and you all should do the same.”

Bruskar then began rummaging through his pack. As he did so, Stacy came over to him and asked earnestly “Who are you going to pray to, Bruskar?”

The sage lifted his head up from his task and stared out into the bog for a moment in quiet contemplation. “I am not sure. As we walked, I wondered to whom I would implore favors should we need assistance in this place. Naturally, if I were in a swamp, I would seek guidance from [***], our god of trees and plants. But this swamp, it is not a normal swamp. It is rich, but it is also foul and despoiled in a way. I fear that something else holds dominion here, something that would mislead me if I prayed to [***].”

He turned his attention back towards his pack, rooting about for something else. “So now I wonder, they call this the Valley of the Dead, and I see now for good reason. Maybe the god of the dead would be more likely to hear a plea from this valley. But I don't know. This place fills my heart with a dread I have not often known, and I feel unsure here. That is why we all should pray to our gods for guidance, and we can all come to an answer together.”

Though none said it openly, their faith in their guide was now thoroughly shaken. Since meeting Bruskar, they had followed him as children followed a parent. Unsurprising, really, since they were all still basically children themselves, even though in this land even their young frames were a good head or two higher than any of the people they'd encountered. Now though, the one adult, tiny as he may have been, was unsure of what was next.

And though the group didn't realize it, Bruskar's own courage and comfort with their adventure had up to now been fortified by what he called his young giants. Men and women of such great stature, no matter how young, surely offered him safety to be in their company. If the tale they told of defeating the Prince's throle* were true, surely they could be hardy warriors. Yet now he had brought them all someplace where neither size nor strength would soon seem to matter, and young men and women, giant or not, were ill suited for what he feared lay ahead. Regardless of the path down which the gods would send them.

[***] the names and types of dieties of this imagined world are still being worked on, so no names are given yet.

* a "throle" is the name that the people of this imagined world have given to a particularly monstrous beast, the kind that in our world that is used to scare children in fairy tales, but in the world of my story are very real, terrible beasst.

Author's Note

This is an excerpt from a chapter. There is some before and after, so by itself the work is incomplete and clearly lacks context. However, from what you can see/read, do you find this part compelling? Are the descriptions of the environment enough to convey a mood and feel, but not so verbose as to derail the momentum of the tale?

I've never subjected my fictional writing to any scrutiny, I just felt like I had to put something out there to conquer my fear, and hopefully spur me on.

Reviews

[DesRee]

You have nothing to fear. The excerpt had me confused in the beginning for a bit because I was to busy trying to figure out what was happening, but once I figured it out the story just got better. I like how there was a religious debate even though they were trying to figure out where to go, honestly it made me laugh and question Bruskar. I hope you add more.