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More from Blackwater
Got really unsatisfied of the first chapter of "Wrong Intentions". It sounds so stupid. So, since I neither could write the second chapter nor the little inbetween chapter I make together with Rahne, I got some inspiration after reading so much the last couple of days. Well, I guess you should blame Stephen King and Michael Stackpole for it (people who read certain books will see where I got exactly my inspiration from).
I redid the first half page of the chapter. Now it sounds way better (the text is not beta-read, nor did I correct all mistakes). You can feel more of the tension of the story. I like it.
The pic that goes along with it (I will late make a better one) is an old one I did a few month ago (the sketch) and colored it yesterday (fast done).
Well, enjoy it and PLEASE READ. Especially if you read the other first chapter. And tell me if it sounds better now.
Wrong Intentions - Chapter 1 (redone)
The desert was merciless. Hot, blinding, white. The heat made the far horizon-line look like a quavering ocean with white and yellow waves. No mountain, no tree was in sight, no signpost was there to guide the way. And still, he knew the direction. He didn’t know how he could knew it, but he knew it. It was a tickling feeling in his guts. Like the feeling before a coming storm. Or the feeling you have, when you’re in bed with a girl for the first time. Nervous, maybe excited, curious yet afraid.
No matter what it was, it was there. And it was the only thing that guided him through the northern part of this desert.
The northern territories weren’t far away anymore. He could feel it-and quickened his pace. His face was hidden behind a scarf to keep the sand away. His body under a shin-long black leather coat. Despite the burning sun and the long coat he shivered. Feeling cold waves running down his spine as he put one foot after the other.
The young delta wore a dark brown bag over his right shoulder. Each time he stopped to catch his breath he set it down like it was the most precious thing in the world. And, in case anyone would have known what he was carrying, they would have understood his wariness.
The way was long and the border between the territories nearly non-existent, but he knew he finally crossed the northern border Asalisbahds.
One last time he stopped before he finally could see his destination. A small town with yellow houses, the same yellow color like the sand of the desert. It was nearly invisible and only wanderer who knew this route through the northern territories knew it was there.
The young delta took a few ragged breathes before he lifted his bag again over his shoulder and walked the remaining part of the exhausting journey to the little town.
He reached it at sunset.
“Alisan”, he whispered, reading the old sign above the entrance of the town.
Dusty roads he hadn’t seen for years were still so familiar to him. Slowly he walked down the main road, twitching ears listening for every sign of live. Like a ghost town, he thought, and still he knew that many people lived here. Alisan was a little oasis. Not quite as huge as others, but the only oasis in this part of the desert.
In the middle of this little town, on the mainstreet the tavern was there like he remembered it, the old paint peeling, the partially broken blinds hanging on ancient rusty hinges. The half rotten wood of the sign above the entrance was there, too, telling everyone who entered in vanishing letters “Old Blackwolf Tavern”.
He still hasn’t repaired it, noted the delta, standing smiling before the old wooden door before he entered.
He didn’t make a sound as he opened the door. It was quiet. Even the old hinges of the door seem to fell silent in the presence of this young wanderer.
The barkeeper and owner of the tavern, an elderly dark brown wolf, already grey in some parts of his face, didn’t notice him until he stood right in front of the wooden counter that the man was busy cleaning.
He looked up, startled for a moment and, as the young wolf slowly uncovered his face – white-coated with recognizable black markings around the icey-blue eyes – the old man began to smile. Walking fast around the counter, he stood in front of the much younger boy, his arms spread.
“Leo, my boy,” he said with a huge grin on his face before the delta was pulled into a bear-hug.
“Uff…” Leo noticed that, despite the age of his old friend, he was still strong and despite of his round belly, he was still well trained, a fearfull enemy, if he happened to be your enemy.
But Leo was lucky to have him as a friend. A good friend. Closer to him than even his father would have been.
Leo pulled away a little too quickly. He looked at the aging barkeep, his eyes a bit tired from his long journey through the deserted territories.
“Aislynn, my old friend.” Leo, too, had a wide grin plastered over his face, but it still wasn’t as bright as it used to be. He was exhausted, more than he should be after this journey. Hoping his friend wouldn’t notice anything, he slowly sat down on the seat Aislynn offered him.
He already managed to gain a rank since he left his home. If you can call that a home, he thought bitterly, remembering the old base, still the moldy smell from rotten wood and rust in his nose. Now he had the fifth rank, he was a delta. He should be able to cross the desert in only half the time he needed and withouth even getting exhausted or tired.
But it was different. Things were different now.
“Anything to drink? It has to have been a long journey, my son.” Aislynn interupted his thoughts. His voice was as soft as Leo remembered.
“Only some water,” came the quiet answer; his raspy voice indicated that he really had to be thirsty.
Raising an eyebrow, Aislynn eyed him suspiciously, took a glass from under the counter and filled it with the cold liquid before setting it in front of Leo. He didn’t say anything, but still noticed the strange look in his friend’s eyes; Leo never only drank water. Something was strange about him, but Aislynn couldn’t quite put a finger on it. He let it fall, still knowing that Leo could take care of himself. He could years ago and he could it now.
Knowing that the boy wasn’t here because he wanted to enjoy the good weather, Aislynn sat down on the opposite side of the counter on an old bar stool, resting his left arm on the wooden table and let out a deep sigh.
“What is it?”
Leo looked up startled, a bit confused, and eyed Aislynn through the bottom of his glass, as he drank.
Aislynn was good at reading people like books; only Leo was never easy to figure out. He knew the boy wanted something, and that something was wrong, but he couldn’t figure out what. So he did the next best thing he could think of: He asked.
“What is what?” Leo swallowed. Suppressing a cough, he looked into the dark brown eyes of the older man.
“What do you want? You look like you lost something.”
“Yeah, you hit the mark.” He looked down on the counter, a sarcastic yet tired smile on his face.
“I’m looking for S’ren. But, you know, she is hard to find.”
“Just like you, my friend.” Aislynn answered with a fatherly smile.
Leo always liked to think of him as his father. He was strong by himself, a fighter, a born soldier. But sometimes, only sometimes he wanted this kind of comfort only a father can give you. Protection, yes, comfort and guideance. Guideance. A word he never forgot. He may be a good soldier, but he never was a good leader. He worked alone. And his work was dirty. But now all of that lay far away in another country. A country he left to find the answer to a question he never dared to ask.
Why is he looking for her? After how they met the last time I never thought he wanted to see her again. Aislynn was tempted to ask this question, but he thought it was a fairly bad moment for it.
He again eyed Leo suspiciously. And waited. There was something on this boys mind. He knew it the moment the boy entered the old tavern. But he couldn’t ask about it. He had to wait.
Leo’s voice was still a bit raspy. He spoke quietly. Didn’t look up as long as he spoke, just stared at his half emtpy glass, turning it over and over in his hands.
“You know, many things have changed since I was here the last time.”
Turning the glass.
“Things happened the past years, things I cannot and will not talk about.”
The glass turned again.
“I never said thank you for what you’ve done for me. But I’m afraid it’s still not over.”
And turned it again.
“All I know is, that I maybe will never have the opportunity again to thank you at all.”
With a thud the glass stood on the counter again, motionless. Just the water didn’t want to stop his restless movement. The boy looked up for the first time since he began to speak.
His voice merely a whisper and Aislynn had to lean forward to understand everything.
“Were is she? I know you know it. You know everything about this desert. Not even she can cross it without you noticing it.”
He had never heard such an icey undertone in Leo’s voice.
The old wolf sighed. Why had it to come to this?
“Boy, don’t do anything stupid. I…”
“I’m already beyond that point, my friend.” He interrupted him harshly, speaking in a calm tone.
I redid the first half page of the chapter. Now it sounds way better (the text is not beta-read, nor did I correct all mistakes). You can feel more of the tension of the story. I like it.
The pic that goes along with it (I will late make a better one) is an old one I did a few month ago (the sketch) and colored it yesterday (fast done).
Well, enjoy it and PLEASE READ. Especially if you read the other first chapter. And tell me if it sounds better now.
Wrong Intentions - Chapter 1 (redone)
The desert was merciless. Hot, blinding, white. The heat made the far horizon-line look like a quavering ocean with white and yellow waves. No mountain, no tree was in sight, no signpost was there to guide the way. And still, he knew the direction. He didn’t know how he could knew it, but he knew it. It was a tickling feeling in his guts. Like the feeling before a coming storm. Or the feeling you have, when you’re in bed with a girl for the first time. Nervous, maybe excited, curious yet afraid.
No matter what it was, it was there. And it was the only thing that guided him through the northern part of this desert.
The northern territories weren’t far away anymore. He could feel it-and quickened his pace. His face was hidden behind a scarf to keep the sand away. His body under a shin-long black leather coat. Despite the burning sun and the long coat he shivered. Feeling cold waves running down his spine as he put one foot after the other.
The young delta wore a dark brown bag over his right shoulder. Each time he stopped to catch his breath he set it down like it was the most precious thing in the world. And, in case anyone would have known what he was carrying, they would have understood his wariness.
The way was long and the border between the territories nearly non-existent, but he knew he finally crossed the northern border Asalisbahds.
One last time he stopped before he finally could see his destination. A small town with yellow houses, the same yellow color like the sand of the desert. It was nearly invisible and only wanderer who knew this route through the northern territories knew it was there.
The young delta took a few ragged breathes before he lifted his bag again over his shoulder and walked the remaining part of the exhausting journey to the little town.
He reached it at sunset.
“Alisan”, he whispered, reading the old sign above the entrance of the town.
Dusty roads he hadn’t seen for years were still so familiar to him. Slowly he walked down the main road, twitching ears listening for every sign of live. Like a ghost town, he thought, and still he knew that many people lived here. Alisan was a little oasis. Not quite as huge as others, but the only oasis in this part of the desert.
In the middle of this little town, on the mainstreet the tavern was there like he remembered it, the old paint peeling, the partially broken blinds hanging on ancient rusty hinges. The half rotten wood of the sign above the entrance was there, too, telling everyone who entered in vanishing letters “Old Blackwolf Tavern”.
He still hasn’t repaired it, noted the delta, standing smiling before the old wooden door before he entered.
He didn’t make a sound as he opened the door. It was quiet. Even the old hinges of the door seem to fell silent in the presence of this young wanderer.
The barkeeper and owner of the tavern, an elderly dark brown wolf, already grey in some parts of his face, didn’t notice him until he stood right in front of the wooden counter that the man was busy cleaning.
He looked up, startled for a moment and, as the young wolf slowly uncovered his face – white-coated with recognizable black markings around the icey-blue eyes – the old man began to smile. Walking fast around the counter, he stood in front of the much younger boy, his arms spread.
“Leo, my boy,” he said with a huge grin on his face before the delta was pulled into a bear-hug.
“Uff…” Leo noticed that, despite the age of his old friend, he was still strong and despite of his round belly, he was still well trained, a fearfull enemy, if he happened to be your enemy.
But Leo was lucky to have him as a friend. A good friend. Closer to him than even his father would have been.
Leo pulled away a little too quickly. He looked at the aging barkeep, his eyes a bit tired from his long journey through the deserted territories.
“Aislynn, my old friend.” Leo, too, had a wide grin plastered over his face, but it still wasn’t as bright as it used to be. He was exhausted, more than he should be after this journey. Hoping his friend wouldn’t notice anything, he slowly sat down on the seat Aislynn offered him.
He already managed to gain a rank since he left his home. If you can call that a home, he thought bitterly, remembering the old base, still the moldy smell from rotten wood and rust in his nose. Now he had the fifth rank, he was a delta. He should be able to cross the desert in only half the time he needed and withouth even getting exhausted or tired.
But it was different. Things were different now.
“Anything to drink? It has to have been a long journey, my son.” Aislynn interupted his thoughts. His voice was as soft as Leo remembered.
“Only some water,” came the quiet answer; his raspy voice indicated that he really had to be thirsty.
Raising an eyebrow, Aislynn eyed him suspiciously, took a glass from under the counter and filled it with the cold liquid before setting it in front of Leo. He didn’t say anything, but still noticed the strange look in his friend’s eyes; Leo never only drank water. Something was strange about him, but Aislynn couldn’t quite put a finger on it. He let it fall, still knowing that Leo could take care of himself. He could years ago and he could it now.
Knowing that the boy wasn’t here because he wanted to enjoy the good weather, Aislynn sat down on the opposite side of the counter on an old bar stool, resting his left arm on the wooden table and let out a deep sigh.
“What is it?”
Leo looked up startled, a bit confused, and eyed Aislynn through the bottom of his glass, as he drank.
Aislynn was good at reading people like books; only Leo was never easy to figure out. He knew the boy wanted something, and that something was wrong, but he couldn’t figure out what. So he did the next best thing he could think of: He asked.
“What is what?” Leo swallowed. Suppressing a cough, he looked into the dark brown eyes of the older man.
“What do you want? You look like you lost something.”
“Yeah, you hit the mark.” He looked down on the counter, a sarcastic yet tired smile on his face.
“I’m looking for S’ren. But, you know, she is hard to find.”
“Just like you, my friend.” Aislynn answered with a fatherly smile.
Leo always liked to think of him as his father. He was strong by himself, a fighter, a born soldier. But sometimes, only sometimes he wanted this kind of comfort only a father can give you. Protection, yes, comfort and guideance. Guideance. A word he never forgot. He may be a good soldier, but he never was a good leader. He worked alone. And his work was dirty. But now all of that lay far away in another country. A country he left to find the answer to a question he never dared to ask.
Why is he looking for her? After how they met the last time I never thought he wanted to see her again. Aislynn was tempted to ask this question, but he thought it was a fairly bad moment for it.
He again eyed Leo suspiciously. And waited. There was something on this boys mind. He knew it the moment the boy entered the old tavern. But he couldn’t ask about it. He had to wait.
Leo’s voice was still a bit raspy. He spoke quietly. Didn’t look up as long as he spoke, just stared at his half emtpy glass, turning it over and over in his hands.
“You know, many things have changed since I was here the last time.”
Turning the glass.
“Things happened the past years, things I cannot and will not talk about.”
The glass turned again.
“I never said thank you for what you’ve done for me. But I’m afraid it’s still not over.”
And turned it again.
“All I know is, that I maybe will never have the opportunity again to thank you at all.”
With a thud the glass stood on the counter again, motionless. Just the water didn’t want to stop his restless movement. The boy looked up for the first time since he began to speak.
His voice merely a whisper and Aislynn had to lean forward to understand everything.
“Were is she? I know you know it. You know everything about this desert. Not even she can cross it without you noticing it.”
He had never heard such an icey undertone in Leo’s voice.
The old wolf sighed. Why had it to come to this?
“Boy, don’t do anything stupid. I…”
“I’m already beyond that point, my friend.” He interrupted him harshly, speaking in a calm tone.
Category Artwork (Digital) / Fantasy
Species Wolf
Size 680 x 680px
File Size 234.9 kB
There isn't much I can say for this just yet. There needs to be a bit more character development which I guess will be revealed as the story progresses. Especially involving who S'ren is to get a feel for the general condition of your main character.
Although the first similie doesn't seem to fit the otherwise anxious yet dark? mellow? tone of the story. It seems like everything is a bit run down and there is caution in the air about the main character concerning his quest. Although yes, this happens during someone's first time in bed with someone else, there is a general feeling of excitement, celebration and love that comes to mind with that image and I don't really feel it in the story.
Overall it is pretty good, a bit fast paced, but openings seem to be pretty awkward the first few times around. I know mine are, and they are the part of a story I have the most problems setting up.
Although the first similie doesn't seem to fit the otherwise anxious yet dark? mellow? tone of the story. It seems like everything is a bit run down and there is caution in the air about the main character concerning his quest. Although yes, this happens during someone's first time in bed with someone else, there is a general feeling of excitement, celebration and love that comes to mind with that image and I don't really feel it in the story.
Overall it is pretty good, a bit fast paced, but openings seem to be pretty awkward the first few times around. I know mine are, and they are the part of a story I have the most problems setting up.
It certainly has interesting parts, and here is something for a few thoughts. In your first paragraph, the first two sentances would probably work better as a single sentance, granted some minor rewording would be needed, but you could still pass of the feel you want, if not better. also try saying your characters names sooner dependant on how far into the chapter they appear, and ominous names work better if they are carried for a longer period, cause it's not very understandable to have him not named, then suddenly named in the first chapter. One other thing that is good to know, lots of people don't like to think, and I'm not saying make things obvious, cause then it would be boring. That happy medium is hard to find, so don't kill yourself over trying to, just remember to explain things that might get alittle too far out there. Lastly, and I'm sure this is the last thing you want to hear, try not writing a chapter like it is it's own short story, you may find it easier to fill more pages with each one.
Now for the good parts, cause after that, I feel like I just smacked you around. The way you introduced the second character was good, cliché, but good, as is his profession. I'd be interested in seeing more of their history, it could be very interesting to know more about their bonds. Your ideas are relatively well written, though some places could use better execution, all in all your idea for this story is nice.
Nothing happens over night, writting included, so don't be afraid to slow down, take a day, some of the best writing in the world happened just by accidental thinking.
Now for the good parts, cause after that, I feel like I just smacked you around. The way you introduced the second character was good, cliché, but good, as is his profession. I'd be interested in seeing more of their history, it could be very interesting to know more about their bonds. Your ideas are relatively well written, though some places could use better execution, all in all your idea for this story is nice.
Nothing happens over night, writting included, so don't be afraid to slow down, take a day, some of the best writing in the world happened just by accidental thinking.
"He didn’t know how he could knew it, but he knew it."
um...that just needs to be fixed. I'll offer my idea, but there are plenty of other ways to write it.
Here:
"He didn't understand how he knew, but he could feel something guiding him. A tingling sensation in his gut that urged him in the right direction"
otherwise, its actually quite good, and I love the art that goes with it. No matter how fast that was, its 100x better than what I could do, I suck at digital coloring.
um...that just needs to be fixed. I'll offer my idea, but there are plenty of other ways to write it.
Here:
"He didn't understand how he knew, but he could feel something guiding him. A tingling sensation in his gut that urged him in the right direction"
otherwise, its actually quite good, and I love the art that goes with it. No matter how fast that was, its 100x better than what I could do, I suck at digital coloring.
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