Chapter 1 - TFS Zepher

deastany calls, or more splutters... do wat will he do? when meeting of friends becomes a quest for truth

Chapter 1

TFS Zepher

 

The young boy was brought up in there small village in the trees, he trained his skills, his skill with a small sword and dagger grew, his bow skill was top of the class and he grew in dexterity and agility from hunting though the trees, soon the boy was a man, he had maid his first hunt and they gave him his name, he knew his family name so they called him Keylan Davidson. Soon he felt he could control a air around him like the elevens of the forest could. But they knew he had to leave the village, the elders gave him one last trinket, to send him on his way. They gave him an enchanted chest plate, enchanted to protect him on his way. it was a peace of armour from the ancient suit of armour that once belonged to a great elf worrier.

 

They where sad to see him go, but they knew it would come. The boy now 22 years old, was ready to start his life. Being rased by the elves meant that he had a higher intellect, able to talk to the greatest minds of the human learning, and not be challenged. He was told by his Elvin teacher that if he where to talk to the lower hub of human life they may feel threatened by his intelligence and that he should look out for himself. He went out with a basic knowledge of magic for though the elves trusted him they still didn’t share all there secrets.

 

And so he set off on his path with nowhere in sight, only his chest plate, the robes that covered it and his staff.

 

He got to the city where his sorry tale had started, but he was filled with hatred and felt he should leave quickly. The sounds of the market overwhelmed him for he had known the forest for so long but soon he got his whit back, remembering what he had to go though as a child in Hather. A young child un like himself back then bumped into Keylan. The boy had stolen his money that had been hanging from his belt, it seemed that he had not become acquainted as much as he wanted. Now with no money and nowhere to go, he thought he’d try to stow away on a new machine named a zeppelin. He hears from other passengers that its name is the TFS Zepher,  an unusual name for something thought Keylan but he was not as clued up on human traditions.

 

As the zeppelin set off across to distant land, he was filed with excitement. But thought how would he get off… this perplexed him as the  cruse went on. He staid hidden, something he had leant to do well wen hunting. He herd the suedes enounce that they will be arriving in a few hours. They had been flying for a few days, but still Keylan remained still, he had done this for weeks on end so it did not bother him. The distant sound of more engines quietly whirled in the background, going un noticed by all but Keylan.

 

All of a sudden the cabin started to shake shots rang out from the engine sounds coming from the outside of the zeppelin, there were several loud explosions as the craft that they where on started to fall from the ashen grey sky. There was one more loud explosion and the craft was sent crashing into the ground below.

 

The grand TFS Zepher had crashed horrifically into the ground in the mountains. Keylan, though with a broken finger, was completely fine…. Not a scratch on him. It seemed his chest plate really worked. He herd the quirt voice of another survivor crying out, Keylan brought himself to his feet, following the sound of the weak voice, he searched the wreckage. He moved a peace of metal, revealing a larger than normal gnome. He was still very short but sickly white, he was not going to make it. He looked at Keylan, his face wrinkled and ravaged with time. He had blood rolling down his face, but the main problem was that he had a large un moveable cog laying upon him. He said in a weak frail voice, 

 

“oh, thank you my friend…. I haven’t got much time… cough… You must find the boy…. Find the boy, and give him back his ring. He will know what needs to be done…. Cough, cough splutter…. We had ti do it, he did unspeakable things. But we had to do it….. we where so close to finishing it…. But….. there where so few of us left, and then THE EVAL!….. cough… he’s coming back…. To destroy everything and everyone… you have to get the ring to the boy….. he will know what to do… splutter… he will know…. It’s all up to you…”  he lays his weary head down on the dirt his hand culched around a ring. Keylan takes the ring off the old gnome, putting it in his pocket.

 

Surly the just the ramblings of an old man…. But worth looking into. You don’t take words like that lightly.

 

The fire burns around him, smoke clogging the suns rays, a dark mass steps though the smoke pulling Keylan away from the wreckage. Keylan starts to ague with his supposed savour. “I say! Stop at once!” he yells.

 

“sir, I cant I have to help the living”

“get your hands off me now! I am perfectly capable of helping myself.” Keylan says climbing to his feet. And pulling away from the man. He was a average sized human, about 5”9’ at first glance, he wore a long white monks robe, stained from walking, a gold pendant with a symbol that Keylan did not recognize. He is a thick set man but not over weight, and not over muscular. He was a young man like Keylan, but you could see he had lived the easy life of a monk in the monastery. He picked up the staff asking “have you seen any other survivors in the aria?”

“n-no no one I have seen…. All dead.”

“well you’re the first I have seen. This must be a sign, a sign from our gods.” Keylan looked at him not knowing what he was talking about

 

“what are you on about.”

“oh I am sorry my friend, I lose my manors my name is Tavscot. Please take a seat over here. I am just going to look for some more survivors.”

“it is useless my friend, there could not be any survivors from that crash”

“but sir, you have survived?”

“only dew to my chest plate.” Tavscot, confused at the statement steps closer,

“your chest plate sir?”

“yes my chest plate, it is enchanted…”

“don’t say any more…” Tavscot interrupted. “magic is illegal in this province, I would keep that under your robe my friend.” Keylan proses for a few seconds, looking estonished, he had never seen a place where magic was outlawed, he had always been around magic, so much that it had infused into him. But he would keep his head, this was a new world to him and he did not want to stand apart quite yet.

“thank you for the tip, speaking if provinces, where am I my good man?”

“well the grate state of Arcanum… the province of Terant. After the great war, the emperor outlawed magic, he said that ‘magic is too powerful, there is no way we can control it, it must be removed.’ or something like that sir. why? Where are you coming from? Caladona?”

“why yes I am” Keylan’s tone rasing slightly and standing he continues “do you have something against that?” Keylan, now grown, stands taller than the man in front of him.

“no sir, not at all.” Tavscot says slightly cowering. “no please I was only asking”

Keylan readjusts his robe and plate. “good, I think we should look around, find some clues as why the zeppelin crashed.”

“agreed”

 

the two searched only finding a few dead bodies, thinking that this was a lost corse they decided to leave, but as they where heading away from the crash sight, Keylan notice something out of place… something odd. “my friend wait, what is that over there?” Keylan pointed over to a second peace of wreckage, except it was different, more like a one maned air craft, and the dead body of a orc.

 

“it looks like a one maned air craft, but that’s not possible, I’ve never seen anything like it. And no balloon? It cant be” looks at the wreckage in astonishment, this had not been made at all, nether of them had seen such a thing. But what was more astonishing was an orc was the pilot. “an orc?” Tavscot exclaimed. “there is no way there race made or even piloted this…”

“obviously not very well, he did crash.”

 

The orc are a very dumb race broadish and aggressive, if predicated will lash out at a moments notice. They are normally very big creatures, not as big as the more civilised ogres, but bigger than the human. They have large heads and a green tinge to there skin, there smell is offensive. Very hairy with up turned noses, large brows and don’t normally dress in much at all. Because of there normally dim wittedness the humans use them as the muscular in there mines, factory’s or other such manual labour. They are happy to work for food but attack and may destroy at any time, for as the humans say, ‘you can take the orc out of the wilderness, but you can’t take the wildness out of an orc.’

 

Tavscot points out that he was wearing a pendant, Keylan leans down, and takes it off the creatures neck. The symbol is un familiar to Keylan, he holds it up to Tavscot, who shakes his head not knowing the small triangle inside a pentagram. Keylan puts it in his pocket and they start off away from the crash sight.

                       

“Tavscot?… there was one other survivor… well just for a few moments.” Keylan says hesitantly.

“what do you mean?” he asks

“there was a gnome, dieing, among the wreckage. He gave me this” he pulls the ring out of his pocket, not yet actually looked at it himself he notices it was a bright and deep blue stone, set in a silver ring. Tavscot leans in and looks at the ring.

“I cant say I know what it is, but I’m know expert, but I know someone that might… there’s a small mining town just outside of this valley, I’m sure there’ll be a store there that can help you.”

 

 

 

Author's Note

thank you for reading.... chapter 2 befor/by 20/8/11

Reviews

[Key The bard]

it is ment to be written in 3rd person, so that part would be the narrative voice.

[Matthew Ian Herrawood W]

this is good so far as a story and plot but it needs some serious editing and somtimes rewording. Misted Eyes didnt understand the discovery of the orc while i assumed Keylan would have seen one at some point in his life or lernt about them with the elves but perhaps it would be best to mention that he got some basic world skills and lernt about diffrent races when he was with the elves to avoid that sort of comment from others. cheers

[Misted Eyes]

The first five paragraphs are too short, in the first the word skill appears too much and its use is redundant; in general these first five paragraphs could be expanded into individual chapters if you feel like adding much more details or could consist of most of the chapter's contents.
The part where Keylan at first sees the zeppelin he acts as if he had already seen it, too many times in fact, and although it's mentioned that these machines are new he known immediately how they work, how to stow away in one and he is not even one bit surprised or amazed by them.
The events following the crash, the meeting with the dying gnome and Keylan's rescue, are told too quickly and I find them lacking in details; in addition they, too, could've been a separate chapter. His meeting with Tavscot is on one hand quite well-written and informative, but on the other it lacks emotion on the latter part of it--when they talk about the dead neither of them seems as caring or saddened as they should be, nor do they breathe in relief for their survival, in fact they seem quite uncaring, too-coldly so.
The final part, the discovery of the orc, is something I can barely understand--Keylan grew up as a penniless orphan, wandering from place to place, uneducated and poor, until the elves found him and raised him; since that moment he grew up amongst the elves, apart from other societies, and here he seems to know quite a lot about orcs, ogres and what-not, which doesn't make any sense.

I'd recommend you to work on your spelling and grammar further as there's a clear improvement visible from the prologue. And, as I've mentioned before, your writing makes something large and important--again, the first five paragraphs--into something small and seemingly insignificant; if it were me who could've made up a story like this I'd have expanded further Keylan's departure from the elves, who I imagine were his family for quite some time, and add more details about his journey to the city, giving a more closure-esque meaning to his return, and instead of making him look pathetic when a child steals his money I'd make him look more generous and compassionate by stating, in his narrative view-point, that he let the child steal his money and did not give chase because he wanted to better the life of someone like none has ever done for him.
Hope you find this constructive and helpful,
Courteously,
The Misted Eyes Gazing from beyond the Veil of Frost