Burning Utopia

Aceedwin · May 30, 2009 10:26 AM

The town was quiet. Or at least, it was quiet other than the sound of crackling fire. The spires of the great buildings, were lit up by the burning of the fires that crept up from the ground, slowly eating up the buildings. There weren't many dead bodies. A few more than necessary, but less than expected. Their bodies were given a rough cremating together. It was the least the attackers could do.
There was a little girl, not crying, just watching the carnage from a hilltop. She hadn't fled with the others. She'd stayed with her parents, but... She watched as the fire claimed her past. She watched with dry eyes as the attackers left the village, not smiling, not enjoying what they had done, but with the knowledge that it was done, and could not be undone. The little girl dug her claws into the soft, slightly ashe-strewn ground and screamed. Then she fled. The attackers didn't chase.

In the imperial city of Golloban, a dragon stroked a glass statuette gently. It was a rough map of the universe, put into theoretical perspective by the laws of Herr. The dragon had made it. He stared at it for a moment, then shook his head. Another mistake, he must be getting old. He stroked the glass with a reddened claw and the glass curled and moulded to his will. He settled on a double helix quantified by pi times by the square root of 2. It looked like a wine glass. A knock at the door to the tone of G#.
"Come in." A shy looking earth dragon entered with a message belt strapped around him. "Ah, I don't believe we've met, take a seat."
"Thank you, high Depor." The dragon seemed a little more relaxed. He'd been expected some kind of strict leader. "I have a few messages for you. High importance, my lord."
"Well then do go on."
The dragon nodded, "Firstly, the tax records from the Western towns."
"Leave them on the table. I do so hate paperwork."
The dragon smiled, "Secondly, the guardian Thoroan desires a meeting to discuss the threat of the Northern natives."
"Oh, the paranoia. Fine, I'll organize something."
"And finally, there are reports of the destruction of the town of Cifilhal. Damage seems extensive, but most of th-"
"What do you mean destruction?"
"The town was decimated. Most of the survivors that reported said that the attackers were Future league."
"They would go as far as to destroy a town? Then we have little choice... You are dismissed."
"Uh, yes my lord." The dragon left the room, his feet tapping out an uncertain beat. Future league? Nothing but thugs. Thugs that would need to be restrained.

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Yo. Finally got round to doing a proper story. The story is set a long while after the TLOS series, after Spyro's death. I think I might keep Cynder alive for a while, but the story is based around the unstable political situation induced by Spyro's death.

Sparx is dead as well. Oh dear.

No hating just because I killed off a fair deal of the characters. It was necessary! I don't take pleasure in killing characters. Much.

Comment if you want and do be honest. I'd rather have horrible honesty than suger-coated LIES.

Aceedwin · May 31, 2009 8:22 AM

Sinque lay in the grass, stalking her prey. Her tail was arched like a scorpion's stinger. She took a light breath and tightened her muscles. She pushed hard off the ground and hit her prey head on. She rose up, the mushroom in her mouth. Sinque liked mushrooms. For a fleeting moment, Sinque wondered if eating random mushrooms was healthy. Then she ate the mushroom. Sinque was a pale blue dragon, but with few powers. That was to be expected. She was also mute. She tromped through the forest, making as much noise as possible. She fluttered herself down from a rotting log over a little stream. Sinque dipped her tail into the water as way of experiment. Nothing happened. She felt somewhat disappointed.

Sinque skipped over a little hill, and pciked up the low rumbling of a girl's crying. She cocked an eyebrow and followed the sound. Most dragon's could follow a scent, Sinque could follow a sound, she'd spent most of her life listening, so it was hardly suprising. She found a log where the echoy sound seemed to originate. She poked it with her foot, and nothing happened. She kicked it, hard, and the crying stopped with a choking sound like a drain. Sinque noticed a little hole in the side, and stuck her head through. It was to dark to see properly, but she could see the outline of a small dragon, crouching away from her. She smiled and gave a weak whistle, which startled the creature. The dragon scrambled out from the log and tried to run away. Sinque chased, but at a less threatening distance than she usually would. The little dragoness, which Sinque was now sure she was, slipped on some damp leaves and slid, hitting her head on the base of a tree. She slipped down and lay, choking tears. Sinque walked up, and sat there. Eventually, the little dragoness lookedup at her. Sinque smiled. She was good at that.

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I don't know why, but I really wanted to make a mute character. Sinque's a little... quirky... She'll be a very secretive character. Also, is she the only person I've given a name yet? Wow, that's weird...

Aceedwin · Jun 04, 2009 5:34 PM

Sinque led the little girl back to her, well, you might call it a home, by a constant string of meliduous whistling. The little girl was an electricity dragon by the look of her, but then, looks could be deceptive. Sinque whistled a little wavily to signal to the girl. She looked up and noticed she was going the wrong way. Sinque wasn't sure how broken the little girl was. She wanted to ask for the girl's name, but... Well, it wasn't rocket science. She faltered in her tune and began to focus on the tune again.

Plira was sure it was a dream. It wasn't normal to have your family murdered and your entire world wiper out in a single evening. And it wasn't normal to be following some freak through a forest. It had to be a dream. But then again, you never knew in a dream. Never. It didn't make any sense. They were approaching a door. It looked overgrown with vines. The strange dragon walked past it ignoring it, but Plira was curious she lifted a paw to push the door, when suddenly there was one of the freak's warning whistles. Plira looked at her, she shook her head. That was enough. She would not be treated like a child anymore. She defiantly shoved at the door, and felt an impact in her side. She was flung to her right, and when she looked up, the dragon was getting up with a scolding look. "What's your problem! What's with the-" Then she noticed a quivering arrow, lodged in a tree. THe dragon watched as she realised what had happened. "I'm sorry..."
The dragon gave a sighing whistle and moved on, round the door and stood neara slope with a sharp, beckoning whistle. Plira slunk over, blushing slightly from her own impudence. The dragon pushed at the slope, which fell away. It was a makeshift trapdoor, it seemed. The dragon nodded, and hovered down to the passage below, lit by the waving flame of an old torch. Her whistling tune echoed through the caverns.

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That was fun. I really like the whistling idea, I don't know why, but it seemed like something Sinque would do.

In case you're confused, I do parts with different characters, in a sort-of Terry Pratchett style. Except without the brilliance and humour. Whenever I do this:

A double line, it means I've switched characters. I sincerely hope you all had that figured out already. It's just worrying if you hadn't.

DragonOfDrakness1992 · Jun 04, 2009 9:45 PM

Aceedwin · Jun 06, 2009 6:59 AM

"So where did you find her? Oh, I suppose she's a survivor. Why bring her back here? God you're so sensitive for an assasin." Plira concentrated on hearing the muffled voices, or rather, voice, with her ear clamped onto the floor like some kind of fungi. Assasin? Assasin. Did that mean they were killers. Maybe she'd heard wrong. Footsteps on the stairway. Plira startled back and leapt onto her bed. The door creaked just like a horror story as it swung open. Danio peered through, face pasted with a smile. Danio had been the only one here when she had arrived. He was a young earth dragon and seemed optimistic. He carried a tray of stew, probably made by him, he seemed like the cook.
"Danio..." Plira began.
"Yeah, shorty?" Danio grinned, a little patronizing perhaps, but Plira welcomed it. It felt normal.
"Why do you guys live here? It's a little out of the way."
"Well... Everyone likes it here, out in natu-"
"You're lying." Plira was on the edge, and had decided that she wouldn't take any rubbish from anyone. Danio said nothing. "I'm not as young as you seem to think. I'm old enough to know that floorboards are an excellent source of information." It was almost an insult.
Danio put down the tray on the edge of the bed. "Okay. What do you know already?"
"That you're assasins."
Danio laughed for a while and then judged by Plira's face that it wasn't going to work. "Yeah. We're assasins. But- I mean-" Plira's face turned to a scared expression. "But we're not the bad guys!"
"You kill people..."
"Uhh... Well yes, but we- Alright see if you can picture thi-" He stopped and winced. Sinque grunted in an angry way. She stepped to the side to allow another entrance. This one was a shadow dragon. Female, older than both of the others.
"Hello, I believe your name's Plira. Correct?" Plira nodded slowly, suspicion radiating from her. "My name is Flir. Pleased to make your acquantence. Now, Danio her is somewhat lacking in the brain department, so I'll explain it. Besides, the stew's burning." Danio's eyes widened and he dashed down the stairs, legs hardly touching the ground. "Now," Flir continued, "Let me tell you our story."

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Dramatic interval!!!

Heh, I think I'll introduce one other into the club.

Aceedwin · Jun 13, 2009 9:08 AM

"You see, the world's a lot more complicated that you ever expect. Especially when you're a kid. Many people thought everyone could live in peace with a leader like Spyro at the helm, but that's wrong. There's always an ambitious young dragon, an angry old warrior, something or other that seems innocent, but has serious implications. Spyro couldn't be everywhere, especially since the public expected him to be "around". So he recruited us. An elite troop of killers, designed to halt trouble in the empire, and bring peace.
"That's why we kill. To preserve peace. People we kill are generally insane, dangerous, or are just too agressive. That's where we got our nickname, "The midnight peace"." Flir smiled to herself.
"So, the three of you kill, for the greater good?" Plira asked tentively.
"Actually, Rarpe isn't back yet. He's the last member. I'm sure you'll meet him later, eh?"
"Is he nice?"
Flir licked her lips, "I wouldn't say that, but once he gets used to you, he's a nice guy." Plira nodded and took her soup bowl. She took a sip, and blaunched. "You don't like it?" Flir chuckled, "Danio's never been great at cooking, but he's the best here."
Plira stared at her for a while, then at Sinque who whistled comically, "God, you guys must be terrible at cooking." Everyone laughed at that, and for a few moments, Plira felt normal. Just for a while.

beautygirl05 · Jun 20, 2009 11:31 PM

......I guess I'm gonna have to say the truth....it's a good story....

Aceedwin · Oct 18, 2009 11:09 AM

Looks like I'm back in business. Time to show you lot how writing is done, aye? I really can't do a big installment right now, though.
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"The depressing thing is that I don't even have to bother asking." Rarpe muttered as he entered.
Flir grimaced and tried to explain, "Sinque brought her back, she found her in the forest and she's from that village that was burned, and, well, we thought she might be useful." Flir hated being the one held responsible.
"I really couldn't care less. But I doubt a child is going to be able to help. And I don't want to have to spend on some girl Sinque felt sorry for. You realise we now no longer have our provisions allowance? We'll have to start working for food." Rarpe didn't even bother making eye contact with Plira, but she noticed bandages lining his right arm. "Anyway, I've got a lot to talk to you guys about. A lot's been happening. We've got a good month or two of work ahead of us."

Apoc · Oct 18, 2009 11:23 AM

Not bad.

I see you have an interest in science

Aceedwin · Oct 18, 2009 11:24 AM

Where did you get that idea?

Apoc · Oct 18, 2009 12:37 PM

The first part. When you were talking about the double helix.

The term "double helix" is commonly encountered in molecular biology, where it refers to the structure of DNA. The double-helix model of DNA structure was first published in the journal Nature by James D. Watson and Francis Crick in 1953, based upon the crucial X-ray diffraction image of DNA from Rosalind Franklin in 1952 , followed by her more clarified DNA image with Raymond Gosling, Maurice Wilkins, Alexander Stokes and Herbert Wilson, as well as base-pairing chemical and biochemical information by Erwin Chargaff

Aceedwin · Oct 18, 2009 1:02 PM

Straight off wikipedia, huh? Honestly, double helixes are shapes, not automatic science. But thanks for reading all the same.

Apoc · Oct 18, 2009 1:49 PM

I do that every time I too lazy to write it in my own words. Wrist problems, if I get carpal tunnel I'm screwed.

Still a good story, keep it going I want to see more.

Aceedwin · Oct 22, 2009 9:00 PM

A lot had happened since Spyro's death. The thing was, that dragon's had expanded, as a species. They'd needed more of a government than the elders, and Spyro provided the figurehead for that government. In truth, he'd not been entirely sure of the effectiveness of a dragon leader, but by then he'd been sworn in and it was official, and no matter how hard you try, official tends to stay.
People yearn to be governed. Not just dragons, but all the species. Moles put themselves to the cause immediately, and so did many of the tribes that had made contact during the recent war. The cheetahs retained their independence. They had what they wanted, their tribal life was all they needed really, so despite a small amount of pressure from a few younger, more rebellious cheetahs, they stayed in their valley.
When different species form a union, disagreements are rife. Dragons were made the elite governors, judges, watchmen, and so on. There wasn't any disagreement in that, even though the various tribes were in effect, surrendering their position in politics, there was not a word. For some people that was the worst.

The unfortunate truth of politics is that everyone is used by everyone else, but somewhere, there are people who use others a lot more than they are used. These are not the leaders. They are the grand viziers, the chacellors, and sometimes the "Concerned Citizens".

But when a leader is taken out of the equation suddenly, there is a power struggle, as everyone lunges for the crumbs...

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A little bit of background there. Boring perhaps, but useful as a scene setter.

Aceedwin · Nov 17, 2009 7:54 PM

Plira carried the basket suspended on her horns. It was filled with roast meat. Right now, she was focused rather intently on her basket, because Danio had made it very clear that the things that were happening at the edges at the hall were certainly not interesting in any way, and certainly not to the taste of a sweet young girl like herself. She wandered closer and closer to the target. Targets had names, but they were, essentially, targets and nothing more.

He was a fairly old one, scars badly covered up with some kind of cosmetic. She twitched lightly, unconsiously. This man could, with two words, have her lying dead on the floor. If this was some kind of thrill to the others, she really worried about their sanities. But in the end, what is done, is done, and what will be done, will be done, by definition. There was no point trying to change it. So Plira, in a daze of faulty logic, made her way to the head of the table.

She felt almost frozen as she felt a sleepy hand pass over her head into the basket. It emerged, making her weight noticeably lighter. He'd taken some meat. Now, hopefully, if all went to plan, she wou-

"Slave! What filth is you serving Grugnak! Pathetic excuse for food is what it is!" The target lunged and grabbed her by the throat. "Now, I bet I could get much better meat from yous." he murmured slyly as she struggled for air. "Let's be getting to work..."

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OMG Cliffhanger!

Yeah, in my opinion, cliffhangers don't work as well as they're worth. But I suppose I might as well throw a few spin balls to you lot.

cooldude22345 · Nov 19, 2009 6:09 AM

Hmm, pretty good. I like the whole political situation the story is set in, kind of adds a more sophisticated plot to the story.

Aceedwin · Jan 15, 2010 5:13 PM

I tell you what, I totally forgot what I was going to do here. Ah well, these things happen when you don't put any focus on your stories, eh?

______________________________________

A snap echoed, and what had been a frenzied din was silenced. Plira dropped, and looked up at the frozen eyes of Gragnok. Behind him, holding his neck at a horrifically awkward angle, stood Flir, obviously thinking about how they were getting out. She held the gaze of the assembled soldiers, in a manner that reminded Plira of a myth she'd heard. When cornered, it was said, a rabbit could stare at a snake's eyes, to freeze it with fascination. But the moment the rabbit blinked, the snake would strike. In this case, the blink came at the moment Flir dropped the dead warlord.

Flir kicked over the table, and set fire to it for good measure. Smoke made Plira's eyes water, and she stumbled towards a memorised exit as quickly as possible. Danio was waiting, and gestured towards a small window while squinting through the smoke for Flir. He saw her bouncing off a wall to elude the hoard of gritted teeth that followed her. She recognized Danio, and dived under a table, setting it on fire as she went. With an impressive leap, she landed on the windowsill, before executing a beautiful spiralling manoeveur out. She headed over to the lake, and took a swan dive down, just as a few fireballs and rocks flew at her. The horde crowded around the lake, and held for a moment. They crouched for a minute, waiting for the assassin to surface. Eventually, a paticularily loyal brawler dived in with a challenging roar. He surfaced, and after a gasp muttered out that the assassin was absent. A few more rogues dived in disbelieving, but surfaced with the same result. Eventually, they resolved that the assassin had simply escaped the pond without being seen, and they dispersed to find her. Eventually, they gave up, and a funeral was arranged. Only sixteen of the ten dozen soldiers attended.

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Just thought I'd put up my personal scoring system, which I'll be using when critiquing all your stories. All out of ten.

1 - Basically spam with what some may describe as a plotline. Clichés to the point of plagarising off everyone, idiotic plotline. Save your brain and leave it alone.

2 - Awful, barely recognizable as a story. Storyline is either boring or clichéd. Spelling and grammar likely to be terrible. May make you weep for the future of literature.

3 - Bad, and thoroughly unenjoyable. Storyline is silly, characters feel unnatural. Badly thought through. What you tend to get from first attempts at fan-ficiton.

4 - Pretty bad, but may have it's merits. Storyline likely to be understandable but not much else, characters are probably boring and stereotypical. This tends to be the average level for fan-fiction, depressingly.

5 - Decent, and perhaps even enjoyable in places. Storyline won't be interesting, but you won't be bored out of your mind either. Characters make sense, and you might even find an original and likeable part of the story.

6 - Not bad, and somthing definitely worth reading. Characters will stay true to their personalities, and the storyline will feel neat. Authors at this level may well be worth watching.

7 - Actually pretty good. A basic, but interesting storyline, moderately inventive characters. There's a lot to like from this level of story, but they may also suffer from severe weaknesses, such as an aimless nature, or clichéd beginnings.

8 - Applaudable, with an original storyline, very likeable and diverse characters, and barely a hint of cliché to be seen. Very enjoyable, and you may find yourself losing time to such a story.

9 - Brilliant, with intriguing characters, and quite possibly parralel storylines that actually work well. A shining gem in the sea of grubby pebbles that is fan-fiction.

10 - Publish-worthy, with brilliance scattered around like chicken-feed. Authors at this standard are worthy of worship.

#1 May 30, 2009 10:26 AM

Burning Utopia

#2 May 31, 2009 8:22 AM

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#3 Jun 04, 2009 5:34 PM

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#4 Jun 04, 2009 9:45 PM

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#5 Jun 06, 2009 6:59 AM

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#6 Jun 13, 2009 9:08 AM

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#7 Jun 20, 2009 11:31 PM

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#8 Oct 18, 2009 11:09 AM

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#9 Oct 18, 2009 11:23 AM

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#10 Oct 18, 2009 11:24 AM

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#11 Oct 18, 2009 12:37 PM

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#14 Oct 22, 2009 9:00 PM

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